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#his smile is the ONLY thing i’m thinking about
pedroshotwifey · 3 days
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?” 
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 
“Joel?” 
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 
“You feel so good,” you whine. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 
You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 
*****
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twirlyleafs · 1 day
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“Gold-digger.” (Pt2) (pt1 here)
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: nothing really, angsty? lol
A/N: oml so many of you asked for a part 2 and I’m just so happy you liked the first part!! thank uuu!!
~~~~
To say that you slept bad was an understatement. The moment Daniel let you in to his and Heidi’s hotel room you had started crying and it took almost half an hour before the couple got a sense of what had happened. They’d been at the dinner, hearing Maxs comments, and after piecing it together with what you were telling them now they began to see the bigger picture. Heidi sat with you on the balcony while Daniel made up the couch, insisting you should share the bed with his girlfriend despite your objection.
You hadn’t been able to sleep that much, and it wasn’t because Daniel’s snoring or Heidi’s tossing and turning. Every time you were about to fall asleep you could hear Maxs voice telling you what a shitty girlfriend you were, or you imagined him complaining to his friends that you used up his money like some sort of gold digger. You knew he didn’t think quite like that, and he definitely wouldn’t do any of those things but the knowledge of how he saw your whole relationship had you spiraling.
When Daniel woke, he was always an early riser, he found you already wide awake and anxious. The Aussie knew by the look on your face that you didn’t want to leave the safety of the hotel room alone and he quickly invited you to breakfast. Said and done, Daniel kissed his sleeping girlfriend goodbye before the two of you trudged out in the hallway. It was still early enough that everything was quiet and empty, the only sound being your yawn and Danny typing on his phone.
“You think they have pancakes?” You asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked. He hummed, looking up from his phone with a small smile.
“I hope so. I need some.”
“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Me too. And I need them to practically be swimming in chocolate sauce and-“ You stopped, both talking and walking, when you saw a door open further down the hallway. Daniel walked a few more steps, glancing between Max stepping out of the room and you with an apologetic pout. He must’ve told Max you were coming. Asshole. You met his gaze and he mouthed a sorry, making you shake your head before carefully looking over at the man standing in the doorway. He offered an unsure smile. Daniel grabbed your arm, giving you no choice but to start walking again. When the two of you reached Max he gave you an encouraging squeeze and patted Max on the shoulder before he disappeared down the hallway. You should’ve known you couldn’t trust Daniel.
“Hey.” Max said softly, making you look up at him. You took note of the dark circles under his eyes and judging by the way his face fell he probably noticed how red yours were.
“Hi.”
“You wanna talk?” Max opened the door a bit wider and with a soft nod you snuck past him into the room. You heard him let out a breath of relief and you found yourself being almost grateful that he seemed to be just as nervous as you were. You sunk down on the edge of the bed, watching as Max sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “How are you feeling?”
You shrugged and pulled your legs up under yourself, casting your gaze down on your fiddling fingers. “Not to good, I guess.” You answered honestly, Max answering with a soft hum, agreeing. Things were quiet for a while before he spoke up.
“Are you still angry?” You would’ve been annoyed at the question if it wasn’t for the genuine sadness in his voice. Instead you shook your head.
“No. Just a bit sad I think.”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad schatje.” His words were almost whispered. You looked up at him through lashes.
“Do you still believe we’re only together because you’re paying me?”
“That was never- that not what I meant.” He practically whined, shaking his head. “I love you.”
“You just don’t think I actually love you? I’m just using you for your money?” Max gave you a defeated look, shaking his head quickly.
“That’s not-“
“It’s exactly what you said Max!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You felt the tears pressing behind your eyes again. “Do you know how much of a bad fucking girlfriend I feel like knowing that’s how you see us? Me?” His eyes widened slightly but he didn’t have time to say anything before you started talking again. “I mean, I would’ve paid for my own food, my own travels- everything! If I just knew you felt like that I wouldn’t have let you spend your money on me but you always insist and you’ve always told me you wanted to-“
“I do want to.” He intervened quickly.
“But you want to for the wrong reasons. You want to because you think you need to, because you think I want you to.” When your eyes met again you could tell Max didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed again, no words coming out as his gaze faltered to the ground. You reached up and quickly wiped a stray tear, sniffing quietly as the silence settled. It felt like forever before you heard Maxs voice again.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t either.” You agreed.
“Let’s just-“ Max sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Let’s just go home, yeah?” When you didn’t answer he leaned forward slightly, trying to get your attention. You slowly raised your gaze to met his, both your eyes portraying to much emotions to process.
“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”
“Yeah, okay. Yeah sure.” He nodded, swallowing harshly. “I’ll- eh, I’ll go down to breakfast and you can order up? If you want to? And then I’ll text you when it’s time to leave for the airport?”
“No, Max.” You shook your head, face contorting in a sad frown. He paused, offering an encouraging nod. He wanted you to tell him what you needed, how to fix this. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. Or at least he thought so. “I think I need to be alone for more than a few hours. Like, I think I should travel alone back home, maybe even back to my parents for a bit. Just to-“
“Wait.” You hated the look of panic mixed with pure hurt that flashed across his face as he sat up a bit straighter. “Wait, no, y/n please.”
“I’m not saying that we’re breaking up Max.” You assured him, watching with a heavy heart as he stood, quickly making his way over to you. The second he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed his hands found yours and you could feel the panic seeping through his fingers.
“I get that I fucked up. I get that. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I didn’t mean it. Liefje please don’t-“
“Max.”
“Please don’t leave me. You know I love you, right?” With every word his voice lost its steadiness and you could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. “I love you so much-“
“Max.” You interrupted him again, pulling your hand from his grasp to reach up and cup his cheek. “I know, alright? I know. I love you too.” His eyes flickered between yours, unconsciously leaning into your palm.
“Don’t leave.”
With a soft breath you leaned in to press a light kiss against his lips before shuffling closer, letting him wrap his arms around your body. When you placed your head against his chest he tightened his grip, terrified of letting go. The two of you sat like that, just holding each other for what felt forever. You thought back on the past twelve hours. The words that had been said, the insecurities that’d bubbled up. You knew Max never meant to hurt you, you knew that even before you entered his hotel room this morning but the conversation you just had cemented it. The man currently holding you tightly against his chest was the love of your life, no doubt about it, but that didn’t change the fact that all you could think about right now was money. His money, your money, how you could ever let him spend even one euro on you ever again. The thought had your insides churning and that’s why you knew you needed time. Time to process and figure this out before you could come back to him.
“How long?” You snapped out of your thoughts at Maxs voice, so quiet and gentle that you barely caught it at first. When you asked what he meant he let out a breath. “How long do you need? How long til you come back?”
“I don’t know Max. But I’ll come back. I promise.”
~~~~
Ten days. For ten days the only contact between you and Max had been an occasional phone call and a few pictures. He sent you updates on Jimmy and Sassy and you answered with pictures of your parent’s dog, Bongo. Other than that he gave you the space you’d asked for, no matter how much it hurt him not to constantly beg you to come home.
During your time at your parent’s house you’d spent your time just being. Going back to your roots. You hadn’t been brought up traveling the world in private jets or expensive boats and despite loving your life with Max it felt nice to just trudge around your parents backyard in your pajamas, throwing sticks for your dog to fetch. Your father was the most logical person in your life, he’d always been the one you’d turn to when you needed advice and this time it was no different. Your parents both loved Max and they were obviously upset when you came home crying, but after a few days spent talking and reasoning with them you finally saw the situation in a different light. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you carefully slipped the keys into the door of your apartment, a deep breath leaving your lips when you stepped inside. You were relived to finally be home and you could almost feel yourself buzzing at the thought of seeing Max again. You spoke his name as you walked through the apartment, frowning slightly at the stillness of it. It took you a few minutes before you finally made it to Maxs office, stopping in the doorway when you saw him. He was in his gaming chair, one knee tucked against his chest and chin resting tiredly against it. The computer was turned off, instead his attention was on the toy in his hand as he bounced it slightly for Sassy to play with. You smiled softly at the sight, feeling your chest swell when you heard Max mumble something to the cat.
“Where’s Jimmy?” Despite your words coming out soft and quiet Max flinched, dropping the toy to the ground as he looked up at you. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly as he took you in, trying to convince himself you were really there.
“You’re home.” He stated and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, nodding.
“I told you I’d come back, right?” Max just shook his head, rising from the chair. In a few quick strides he reached you, immediately wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you tightly against his chest. Without a thought your arms snaked around his waist, feeling your whole body relax completely for the first time since before all this. You didn’t know exactly what it was that had you suddenly feel your throat closing up, the tears pressing behind your eyes as you turned your face even deeper into his shirt, but you knew they were good tears.
“Fuck.” Maxs voice was shaky, you could tell he was on the verge of crying too, and you squeezed him even tighter. “Fuck I missed you.”
“I missed you too Maxie.” You mumbled against his chest, breathing in his scent. You’d known you’d missed him while at your parents, but somehow you hadn’t expected to be quite this emotional reuniting with him. The two of you held each other for a moment, only separating slightly when Sassy pushed her way between your legs, loud noises leaving her small frame. As you leaned away from Max you chuckled down at the furry creature, softly assuring her that you’d missed her too, before your gaze moved up to your boyfriend. You found him already staring down at you, one hand reluctantly leaving your body to reach up and cup your cheek. When you leaned slightly into his palm you noticed him release a breath, finally a small smile making its way to his face. It disappeared too soon for your liking, a light frown taking its place.
“I’m so sorry.” He began, voice serious.
“Max-“ you sighed, but he shook his head and you pressed your lips together, deciding to let him talk. By the look on his face it seemed like he really needed to get this out.
“I realized a few days ago that I never actually apologized. I wanted to call and tell you straightaway but I didn’t want to disturb, I didn’t want to say it over text either but- baby I’m so sorry.” Max spoke slowly, he needed you to really hear him. “I never should’ve said any of that shit and even though I didn’t mean it like you think I did I should’ve realized how it sounded.” He paused for a second, hand slipping from your face to gently hold yours between your bodies. You nodded encouragingly, gently swiping your thumb across his knuckles as he continued. “For me it has always been sort of obvious that the things I have I’ve gotten because of racing. My dad always said that if I wanted something I had to be the best and I guess that just fucked with my head, fucked with the way I see myself and people around me. I’m used to people wanting something from me and somehow I applied that to you too, despite the fact that I’ve actually never felt like that with you. I fell in love with you because you made everything seem so effortless, like you just needed me and nothing else. You’ve never asked me for anything, even if you could and I’d happily give it to you, and I can’t for my life figure out why I would say what I said. I think it was my own insecurities, my fears, that had me place those thoughts on you and I can’t stress enough how fucking sorry I am for that.” He swallowed hard, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he waited for you to answer. Your eyes trailed over his face and you contemplated carefully how to respond before eventually speaking up.
“I know you didn’t mean it like- like I thought in the beginning. I realize that now, after some time. I understand your point of view- or maybe I don’t understand it but I accept it. I know you Max, I know the way your mind works and your insecurities. But you also know me and it really hurt me to know that even the thought of me being with you for your money crossed your mind.” His gaze dropped down to your hands at your words, nodding. He was ashamed, you knew he was, and despite knowing he might deserve it you really didn’t want him to. Not anymore. With a soft breath you pulled your hand from his, reaching up to cup both his cheeks. When Max met your gaze again you offered a small smile, thumbs moving over his skin. “We all let stupid thoughts cloud our minds sometimes, that’s human. I’m not holding it against you as long as you promise me you’ll tell me if you ever actually feel like I’m somehow taking advantage of you. Or your money.”
“I promise.” He nodded quickly and you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. Without another word you reached up on your toes, capturing his lips in a long awaited kiss. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a short and sweet peck the both of you craved more, having been away from each other for way too long. Max deepened the kiss and it didn’t take long until he hoisted you up in his arms, lips instead attacking your neck and shoulder as he mumbled scattered declarations of love against your skin.
Later that evening the two of you laid curled up in bed, legs tangled together and Maxs head placed securely on your chest. As your fingers combed their way through his hair his drew random shapes against your skin, both of you enjoying the sounds of Jimmy and Sassy’s purring from the other side of the bed.
“I’d love you every time.” Max mumbled suddenly, making you pause for a second before continuing your movement.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’d find you no matter what, I’d love you in every timeline and every universe. No matter what any of us were doing I’d find a way to be with you.” His words were almost a bit slurred, the sleepiness thick in his voice, but you heard him loud and clear and it made your heart swell.
“I’d find you too Max. Even if you worked at a gas station.”
~
Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <33 @brod16 @spookystitchery @witchsbitchestime @bingussthirdtoe @itsjustkhaos @tylerstacobell @ironmaiden1313 @bitchreader @sp1rl @marvelfangirl04 @kravitzwhore @darleneslane @amberpanda99
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luveline · 24 hours
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Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3
i love u!! fem!reader, 1k
You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 
“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 
Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 
“No,” you force out in a mumble. 
“Are you sure?” 
It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 
“I might be,” you decide. 
Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 
“Do you?” you ask. 
“What?” 
“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 
“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 
“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 
He glares for show. “So serious.” 
“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 
Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 
You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 
Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 
“Makes you sad?”
He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 
You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 
“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 
You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 
“How do you feel?” he asks. 
“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 
“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 
“I’m fine.” 
He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 
“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 
“I’ll be okay soon.” 
“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 
You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 
“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 
“I know.” 
Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 
“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 
He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 
He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 
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the one where YN has a one-night stand, who turns out to be her boss at the hospital where she now works.
author's note: surprise!! doctor!harry is here to surprise you! i know i've been radio silent for a while, and i apologise for that but work has been so busy recently that i've not had a minute to myself. but i've found it, and i've spent it writing this for all of you! thanks for all ya support!
word count: 10K of smut, fluff, angst and everything in between (and also harry being the cutest paediatric doctor anyone has ever seen)
let me know what you think of good omens here! mwah <3
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#1
The first time it happened was completely accidental. Well, as accidental as sleeping with a co-worker could be. A co-worker who she didn’t know was a co-worker just yet.
It was YN’s first day as a paediatric surgeon in a new hospital, in a new town and she couldn’t save him. She couldn’t save him. He was twelve years old. It wasn’t the first time that YN had lost someone, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. But, for a day that was supposed to be filled with new beginnings — ones that were supposed to last — it just didn’t feel like a good omen in YN’s eyes.
That’s how she ended up at the bar, on her third or fourth drink of god-knows-what when she knew that she shouldn’t. YN knew, in the back of her mind that there was no way that she could have saved that boy, no matter what she did. It was too late, and she had done her best but today her best just didn’t seem good enough.
When the handsome stranger sat next to her she didn’t think anything of it at first. He ordered his drink and just sat there. He didn’t look at YN, and YN didn’t look at him. They just sat there. From the sparing glance that YN took of the man he was attractive but that wasn’t on her mind right now — how could it be?
That was until her drink was placed on the bar in front of her, when she had just finished hers and she hadn’t asked for a new one. YN cast her eyes on the bartender, who just motioned in the handsome man’s direction. YN turned to him, and this time instead of facing forward he was looking directly at her. YN’s eyes dropped down to the drink in front of her one last time, before looking at the mystery man again who was smiling, a very pretty smile at that.
“Looked like you needed it,” He shrugged, lifting his own drink to his lips, and taking a sip.
YN scoffed a laugh, “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”
“Smart girl,” The man nodded before turning back to the bartender, “But Benny can vouch for me, can’t you Benny? Went straight from Benny’s hand to in front of you.”
YN sighed again, dropping her eyes down to the glass in front of her before lifting back up to the stranger.
“First name basis with the bartender,” YN lifts an eyebrow at him, “Come here a lot?”
The man shrugs, “Only when I need to.”
YN sighs, contemplating what she was or was not going to do before she just did it. She picked up the glass and took a sip, placing it down with a slight thunk on the counter. The smile on the man’s face was all she needed.
“I’m YN,” She holds out her hand for the man to shake.
He looks at her, then at her hand and drops his into it, “I’m Harry.”
An hour later YN had hardly made it through her front door before his lips were on hers. The door shut with a bang, one that YN would have probably cared about if she wasn’t being hoisted up against it. Harry’s hands slipped down from her waist to her ass until he was gripping her thighs and lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, but the entire time their lips never left each other.
“Bedroom,” Harry mumbled against her lips, before starting an assault down her neck.
“Down the hall,” YN gasped, trying to hold in her moans as his teeth nipped along her neck.
They bumped into a few things along the way, a chest of drawers that was conveniently placed right outside the entrance of her bedroom and then the doorway that neither of them could have moved. When they did make it into the room, it wasn’t long before Harry’s lips were back on hers.
“You sure about this?” Harry murmurs against her lips and YN pulls away.
“I am,” YN runs her hands down through Harry’s hair until it is at the collar of his blazer, “Are you?”
“Hell yes,” Harry reattaches his lips to hers just as her hands slip from the curls at the nape of his neck before they run themselves along the collar of his blazer and help him shrug it off. YN brings her hands around the front to the collar of his shirt now, unbuttoning it from the top down to the bottom until she can pull that off his body also.
Her eyes widen in surprise at the ink across his chest and arms. From what she could see (which wasn’t a lot with his blazer and shirt on) she hadn’t suspected his body to be littered in the dark ink, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers along the ink, following the designs with her fingertips.
“Tattoos?”
Harry chuckles, tapping her chin with his finger so she moves her eyes up from his chest to his eyes. Her body nearly gave out in that exact second.
“What?” He chuckled, a playful smile toying his lips, “You like them?”
YN just sighed, “Ask me again when I can think straight?”
Harry laughed, leaning back down to kiss her again. His fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, and they separated for the second it took YN to lift her arms up and for Harry to pull the shirt off of her body. YN moved to unbutton her trousers, a giggle escaping her lips as Harry helped her when they got stuck around her calf.
When YN had dressed for the day, she hadn’t factored this happening at all, and her mismatched bralette and panties (both a soft cotton instead of anything fancy for comfort reasons) weren’t the sexiest and she knew that. But, when her eyes met Harry’s again, and she saw his eyes flicker up and down her body, none of that mattered anymore.
Harry placed a few chaste kisses onto her lips once again before moving down her neck, down to the exposed skin of her breast above her bralette. A shiver ran down her spine when his hands moved around her back, his fingertips dancing across her skin before skilfully unclasping her bra and allowing it to fall from her body, exposing her breasts to him. The material was discarded on the floor, and YN swore she saw his eyes widen at the sight of her chest exposed to him.
He dropped back down to the top of her breasts, kissing and every once in a while nipping slightly. Once he wrapped his lips around her nipple, YN’s entire body lurched forward. Her thighs tried to tighten, just to relieve some of the pressure that was building within her. Instead, YN found herself pulling Harry closer to her by her thighs, the thing cotton of her panties not creating much of a barrier between her and Harry’s crotch. YN bites her lip in hopes of suppressing the moan that was attempting to slip from her lips.
YN can’t help but grind her hips forward towards his, shivering slightly when Harry’s teeth nip over her nipple.
“Harry,” YN almost mewls, her hips bucking up again, “Please.”
“Please what, darling?” Harry taunts, releasing her nipple with a slight ‘pop’.
YN just rolls her hips towards his once more, and Harry seems to get the hint. From there he moves downwards, littering kisses down her ribs and towards the top of her panties.
“Can I?” Harry asks, his fingers moving to the hem of her panties, slipping them just underneath upon her skin. YN shivered, her hips involuntarily bucking up towards Harry’s touch.
“Yes,” YN gasped, the cool air of the room hit the heat between her legs as Harry tucked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, “Please… Harry.”
YN sighed into the feeling of Harry’s lips pressing into her thigh as he pulled her panties completely off. Even though this man was a complete stranger to her – the way that he was looking at her. The way that his eyes danced down her body, the way they looked into hers as he placed kisses on the inside of her thighs, itching closer and closer to the heat inside of her legs – her judgement was clouded as to whether they were actual strangers.
“Am I getting warmer?” Harry jokes, his fingers coming to rest on YN’s stomach, trying to stop the way that she was lifting her hips upwards.
“You’re such a tease,” YN sighed, her body withering once more as he pressed a kiss right on her pubic bone.
Harry just grinned up at her, a playful smirk toying on his lips once more, “Have I found it?”
“You’re there. Bingo. Please.”
One last pleasing look to Harry, and it was as though he dived in. He didn’t even hesitate, his mouth dropped down and his lips attached to YN’s clit. Her entire body lurched forward, and without even thinking her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to conceal the sounds that were threatening to escape. His lips applied just enough pressure, changing every so often to bring her closer and closer. When his hands reached forward and rolled her nipples between his fingers, she was gone.
“Wanna hear you,” He mumbles against her, the vibrations of his words transferring to her skin, “Need to hear I’m making you feel good.”
“You’re making me feel so good,” YN reassured him, a gasp leaving her lips as he started to flick his tongue against her. YN’s hands dropped down and slipped through his curls, allowing herself to grind against his face. The hand that was rolling her nipple moved to slip down between their bodies. He pulled away for a second, just to rub his pointer finger across her clit before dipping it inside her. YN mewled, her hands reaching out to grasp the duvet beneath her, “Don’t stop, so fucking good.”
The way his fingers and tongue worked simultaneously brought her closer and closer with every movement. YN had never in her entire life had a one-night stand where the first thing the man did was eat her out. It was not only unheard of, but it was divine. The mewls and groans that left her lips were only heightened by his quickening pace, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.
“Harry,” Her thighs attempted to close, only for Harry’s hand (the one not currently inside of her) to push them back open. There was something about him not only bringing her closer and closer to orgasm with his tongue and fingers but also the way he was manhandling her that YN couldn’t handle, “I’m so close.”
He brought his lips away from her clit, only to immediately start rubbing it up and down with his thumb.
“You going to come for me?” He asked, a boyish smile crossing his lips, ones that were glistening with her juices, “Come on. Come for me, baby.”
That one pet name was all that she needed. Her hips were rising from the bed, and her legs started to shake from over his shoulder. She could feel the orgasm from the tip of her toes right up to her head. Small gasps left her body, but Harry worked her through it.
Once the initial wave had stopped, YN dropped her body back on the bed and tried to gain control of her breathing. Harry didn’t wait a single second before he was climbing up her body, so he was hovering over her again, leaning down to capture her lips with hers. She could feel his cock pressing into her leg, and by the slight movement in his hips she knew that he was waiting for his time, and she was more than happy to oblige him.
Her hands snaked down his body, from his shoulders down to his stomach before they toyed with the button on his trousers.
Harry pulled away, only for a second to drop his eyes to where her hands were on his trousers, “You want to do this?”
YN nodded, “Wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”
Harry chuckled, helping her to push his trousers down along with his underwear until his cock sprung out at her.
“Then who am I not to oblige?”
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The next morning YN woke up with a slight pounding in her head. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but she guessed the fully drunk bottle of water that was on her bedside table had done the trick. Her alarm had been set for seven, and that sound was the only thing she could hear in her room.
Just as YN was about to peel the covers back off her body and start getting ready for the day — she felt it. It was light, but she could feel it. A leg, presumably belonging to the person that she had just realised was sleeping next to her, just skimming the side of her leg. They weren’t facing each other, but the second that YN turned her head and saw that face looking at her, all the meme flies of the previous night came flooding back to her — work, the drinks, the sex.
Without even thinking she reached her arm out to tap Harry, lifting him from his slumber in a less-than-calming way. His eyes opened for a second before a groan left his lips and he immediately closed them, dropping his head back down to the pillow.
“Harry,” YN mumbled, slipping out of the bed, and clutching a blanket to her body to preserve at least a smudge of the dignity she had left, “I need to go to work, and you need to leave.”
He sighed, turning his head on the pillow to face her again, “What time is it?”
“It’s seven,” She responded, “I need to shower and get ready and I’m going to be late to work.”
Before she could even finish her sentence he was jumping out of bed, leaning down to grab his discarded clothes, and starting to pull them on his body. YN just stood there watching him, still clutching the blanket to her body.
“You’re not the only one that’s going to be late for work,” He sighed, throwing his shirt back on his body and taking quick steps towards her. He stops, leans down, and presses a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll let myself out.”
“Okay,” She nods, not completely trusting herself with her words, but she has no idea why, “Bye.”
“Bye!” He called out and just like that he was out of her room and a few seconds later she heard the front door slam, and he was out of her apartment.
It wasn’t as though she expected anything else — this was a one-night stand after all. However, there was a part of her that wished she had the balls to ask for his number or something. There was a part of her that was disappointed that the man who had given her the best sex she’d ever had didn’t seem interested in wanting her number or rushing out the way he had.
YN’s shock was short-lived, especially when her alarm clock beeped from the side of her, and she had no choice but to get on with her day. Dropping the blanket she made her way into the bathroom, sighing when she saw the state of herself in the mirror.
Despite the lack of headache, her body looked as though it had been through the wringer. Her hair was a mess, knotted and tangled all over the top of her head — just from looking at the front she dreaded to think what the back looked like.
Once her eyes had left her head, they fell to her neck and drew a line down to her breasts. From around her collar gone down she was covered in marks, some of them small and some of them bigger. The ones around her breasts were the biggest, and just the sight of them sent YN’s mind back. She ran her fingertips along the tender skin, reminding herself of the kisses and the touches that they had shared. With a shake of her head, YN pushed all of the thoughts of Harry out, turned her shower on and waited for the water to heat up.
It was her second day. Her second day. Her thoughts weren’t supposed to be clouded by the man she had met in the bar whilst trying to get drunk, trying to forget what a disaster her first day had been. Instead, she wasn’t thinking about everything she needed to do today, or what could potentially come through the door of the hospital that she would need to focus her strength on, she was reliving the night she had just had as she ran her loofah across her skin, tracing the pattern that Harry had taken.
As she stood with the warm water running over her body, she scolded herself for not doing something. She could have said something, anything to ask him, or followed him before he left the flat. But she didn’t, and she would probably never see him again — and she would have to live with that.
Shampooing her scalp helped remove the stress that was starting to build up in her body. Whilst the irrational side of her brain was telling her all of things that she could have done, the more rational side of her brain was letting her know that it was just a one-night stand. That it was just a one-night stand that she was never going to see again, and that was fine. That was fine.
The more YN thought about it, and the more that she scrubbed her scalp (it was starting to potentially hurt at this point) she brushed (scratched) all of these thoughts out of her head. She had to focus on the most important thing here, and that was her second day of work.
Once she was scrubbed and sparkling and fresh from the night before, she dressed and made her way to work. There was something that made YN feel powerful about her line of work. Maybe it was the fact that she got to save lives every day, or maybe it was the fact that those lives were children, but she felt powerful. Yesterday was just a slip-up, and everything will be fixed today she knew it was.
Once she had pulled her white coat on, and attached her I.D. to it, she made her way over to the nurses’ desk where some of the other doctors on the wing were. Iris, one of the trainee specialists that YN had met yesterday and was going to be working under her was already there, flicking through some paperwork for some of their patients for the day.
“You look…” Iris looked YN up and down, “Different.”
“Different?” YN just laughed, “You saw me stressed yesterday. Today I’m not stressed. Today I’m fine. Today I’m ready for work. Today is a new day. Today is a new day, and it is going to be a good day!”
Iris stared at YN, watching as the woman tapped her nails against the top of the desk waiting for Iris to pass her the files for their patients today so she could get on with the day. She could feel today was going to be a good day. No room for distractions, just her and her work.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Iris raised an eyebrow at YN, watching as the girl just smiled at her.
“I’m feeling fine. I’m feeling good,” YN smiled, finally stopping the tapping on the desk to hold her hand out to receive her first patient file, “Now, I have a bladder to operate on in an hour and I need to read my patient’s chart.”
Iris didn’t seem too convinced by her answer but carried on anyway, “I don’t have it. The peds consultant, Dr. Styles just went in for a consult.”
“Oh,” YN looked surprised, looking over her shoulder to look at her patient’s room but she couldn’t see anything through the door, “I haven’t met him yet. How long has it been since he went?”
“He wasn’t working yesterday,” Iris shrugs, “He’s lovely. Really. Everything you expect from someone who has spent years of his life saving kids.”
YN wasn’t surprised at that. There is a certain type of person who worked in paediatrics. These people had to be kind but stern. They had to be strong but compassionate. Being a doctor, or a surgeon anyway was tough but when children are involved, it complicates everything – makes everything more emotional. There had to be a type of detachment in the person – knowing that these patients were children, and there is a certain higher level of emotion attached to them but how you couldn’t let that emotion rule takes guts.
When YN first went to medical school paediatrics was the last thing on her mind, but by the time she had finished, it was the only thing that she could think about. Now – here she was.
“Well, I hope he’s not going to be long,” YN sighs, tapping her nails against the desk again, “Got pre-ops to do, and I don’t really fancy standing and waiting here for any longer.”
“Stop complaining,” Iris sighs, standing up and moving around the desk so that she’s next to YN, “And he’s here.”
YN sighed, pushing herself up and turning around. She was used to the introductions by now. Whilst peds doctors are lovely and have some sort of emotional intelligence they are still doctors, and that comes with some sort of arrogance. All she needed to do was introduce herself and then she could get into the operating room – where she wanted to. That’s all she thought she would do, but the second she turned around she knew that wasn’t going to be the case at all.
“Hi,” He stopped right in front of her, his hand reaching out as though it was going to shake hers, “I’m Dr. Styles.”
Turns out she didn’t need his number. Turns out she was going to be working with him.
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#2
The second that it happened YN had just finished surgery. A kidney transplant on a nine-year-old boy. She was exhausted. She was stressed, and all she wanted to do was go home and go to bed – that was what she needed to do. Just as YN pulled her scrub cap off her head and followed that with a yawn she felt a hand wrapping around her waist. Just a second later she was being pulled into the closest room, which just happened to be a janitorial storage room.
YN sighed, facing the back wall, and taking in the musty scent along with the brooms and mops that were lining the back wall. She didn’t need to know who was with her, and that was the problem.
“You’re avoiding me,” He spoke, and YN still didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to turn around, “You’re avoiding me, and you can’t avoid me.”
YN sighed, “I’m not avoiding you. I see you every day.”
“In consults, YN!” YN ran her hand over her forehead, still looking at the wall, “In consults, where you don’t even look me in the eyes! I’ve tried and tried, and you won’t talk to me!”
“Because you’re my boss!” YN flung around, looking Harry directly in his eyes. The way she raised her voice caused Harry’s eyes to widen, and the way he immediately saw her eyes start to fill up caused them to soften straightaway, “You’re my boss, and I slept with you!”
“YN,” Harry sighs, taking a step towards her with his hand out. Before YN could flinch she pulled away, “You didn’t know that that I was your boss, that is not your fault.”
“You are still my boss, Harry,” She sighs, trying to stop her lips from turning into a frown, “You are still my boss, and I’ve slept with you. You’ve seen me naked! I’ve seen you naked! You’re my boss!”
“YN, you need to listen to me,” Harry was the one sighing now, running his finger across his eyebrow, “You did not know that I was your boss. I did not know you were a surgeon, never mind the surgeon on my staff! We both didn’t know and if we don’t talk this out – we’re not going to be able to work together and that’s dangerous. I know it, you know it. How can we treat our patients, those children out there if we can barely look at each other in the eye?”
YN sighed, knowing that it wasn’t the most sanitary, but she was tired. She dropped down to the floor, her back leaning against one of the shelves covered in cleaning supplies. Harry sighed and dropped down next to her, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Why didn’t you ask for my number?”
YN had interrupted the silence that had washed over them, and Harry didn’t say anything straight away. He turned to look at YN, but she was staring straight ahead – at the other shelves with boxes of cleaning supplies on.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you ask for my number?” She asked again, “Before you left. Why didn’t you ask for my number?”
“I wanted to,” Harry responds this time, but YN still doesn’t look at him, “I wanted to, but I was late. I forgot.”
YN laughed. She couldn’t help it, “You forgot? You slept with me, and then you forgot to ask for my number?”
Harry’s head turned to hers quickly, his eyes laced with shock, “You didn’t ask for mine. You could’ve asked for mine, you could’ve.”
“I could’ve if you didn’t race out of the room like there was a fire under your arse!”
Harry sighed again, looking straight ahead at the shelves. They were in silence again, and then his hand reached out to grasp hers. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Instead, she snaked his fingers through hers and pulled her hand so that it was resting on her knees.
“Oliver,” Harry sighed, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “The patient that you did the bladder operation on, you removed his tumours.”
“Yeah?” YN sighed, unsure as to where this was going.
“That was my friend's kid,” Harry sighed, not stopping as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, “Oliver. Oli – that’s what we call him. He’s a bubbly kid, kind, good at sports. He was fine. Then one day he wasn’t. His parents took him to his GP, he said it was a bladder infection. They came to me, and I said the same. I said the same. They begged me to run more tests, begged me. I didn’t, he got worse, and they came back. I ordered the tests and –”
“He had cancer, and I removed his tumours,” YN sighs. Before she could help it, she pulled his hand on top of her knee and ran her thumb over the back of his hand.
“I went to the bar because I was trying to not think about it, and then I saw you,” Harry sighed, shrugging slightly, “And I, for that night could push everything out of my head. I could push the fact that I missed it out of my head. Then I woke up, and I forgot to ask for your number because I was late to make sure that he was alright before his surgery, and I wanted to be there for his parents. Then I saw him, and then I saw you and then I remembered – I should have asked for your number, but it didn’t matter.”
“Because I was here,” She sighed, and he pursed his lips together and nodded, “But then I ignored you because I slept with my boss, and I thought you didn’t care.”
“I did care,” He sighed, “I do care. It was just…”
“It was a bad day,” YN sighed, a small smile gracing her lips, “We all have bad days. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”
“It’s okay,” Harry smiled, “Can we not ignore each other anymore? I know it’s weird that you’ve seen your boss naked but –”
“We’re okay,” YN laughed, “As long that you don’t find it strange that you’ve seen your colleague naked too.”
He joined in with her laughter, the sound filling up the once-silent room. It had been a month of this silence, this lack of communication between them and even though YN was exhausted – she felt better. Once the laughter had died down, YN realised that she was still holding his hand, her thumb still rubbing on the back of her skin.
YN looked up at Harry, her breath catching in her throat when she realised that he was staring right at her. It was as though the room around them had shrunk, pushing them closer and closer together until their faces were only inches apart. They had just made up, and then all of a sudden his lips were on hers.
YN moved, their lips not separating so that she was straddling his lap. The room now wasn’t small, and it wasn’t just filled with cleaning supplies – it was filled with their deep breaths, their moans, the sound of their lips moving against one another. YN’s hands slipped into the curls at the nape of his neck, just as they had done that night a month ago. Harry’s hand slipped underneath her scrubs, grabbing against her waist, and pulling her closer to him.
That feeling was back, the one that she had felt before. The one where it felt good, as though (and she knew how crazy this sounded) that they fit together perfectly. The feeling of his hands on her, and his lips on hers was everything that she needed.
That was until there was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me!” The voice was deep, and not one that YN recognised, “I need to get into my storage cupboard unless you want the entire hospital to be dirty!”
YN and Harry pulled away, a string of laughs escaping their lips as they tried to pull their selves together. Harry pulled the door open once they looked a little more presentable, revealing Mark, the janitor, standing there with his hands on his hips.
“Sorry, Mark,” Harry nodded, clearing his throat slightly, “Bad day.”
Mark scoffed, watching as YN fluttered past them and started to move down the hall. She didn’t move fast enough to not hear him say, “Keep your bad days to the on-call room next time.”
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“So,” It was later on in the day, and YN had managed to get some sleep in one of the on-call rooms before she was back to it. She hadn’t seen Harry since their little adventure in the janitor’s cupboard earlier today, not until right now, “I was thinking.”
“Oh,” YN sighed, continuing to flick through the charts that were in her hands, “That’s dangerous.”
Harry laughed, and that was when YN turned to look at him. He was in his scrubs, his hands in his white lab coat. All YN wanted to do was wish that they were back in that cupboard, mainly so she could kiss him again.
“My thinking isn’t dangerous. I think I come up with brilliant ideas,” Harry leant against the nurses’ station, his body leaning towards her.
“Okay,” YN closed her chart so that she could angle her body towards his as well, “What is this brilliant idea you’ve come up with?”
“I think we should go on a date,” YN’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything to him he carried on speaking, “I think we should go on a proper date. Dinner, or a movie – something. A proper date.”
“This was your brilliant idea?” YN raised her eyebrow, “To ask me on a date?”
“Yes,” He beamed another smile at her, “Properly. We’re going to do this properly.”
YN cleared her throat and took a step closer to Harry so that they were not at a professional space away from each other.
“So,” YN’s eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, “This whole… doing it properly thing? Does that mean we can’t have sex?”
Just when YN thought he was going to kiss her, Harry stepped away. He walked away from her.
“Harry?” She exclaimed, her arms dropping open.
“We’re doing this properly!” He called back, not even turning to look at her, “I’ll pick you up at eight!”
YN sighed, shaking her head, and watching as he turned the corner out of her view. She turned back to her chart, but before she could open it her eyes caught Iris – who she had completely forgotten was sitting behind the desk when Harry walked past.
“I don’t even know what to say,” The girl spoke, eyes still open wide, “I feel like I’ve just watched some sort of soft porn. I feel like I’m at work, and I’ve just witnessed soft porn with my own two eyes.”
YN laughed, she couldn’t help it, “I think you’re in shock.”
“I think I’ve just watched soft porn between my two co-workers – my two bosses,” She adds, the shock on her face still not wavering, “Never mind that, one of my friends – my best friends, mind that – and her boss, who is also my boss.”
“Iris,” YN clapped in front of her face, snapping her friend out of whatever shock she was in, “You good?”
“I’m good,” Iris stood up, “I just think I’m going to wash my eyes out.”
A few hours later YN was waiting for Harry outside the hospital, dressed in an outfit that wasn’t exactly the best but wasn’t the worst. YN hadn’t expected to be going on a date this morning, but Harry had seen her in her scrubs, so a pair of jeans and a nice top wasn’t going to be the end of the world.
“You ready?” Harry’s hand hovered above her back as he joined her outside the hospital.
“I’m ready,” YN sighed, “I’m ready for our proper date. Can I find out where we’re going on our proper date?”
“Not yet,” He slipped his hand into hers, “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
YN groaned but allowed herself to be pulled to Harry’s car. Harry drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on YN’s. It felt comfortable. YN hadn’t been on many first dates, but the ones that she had never felt like this. Saying that many of the people she had been on first dates with she hadn’t already slept with, or she hadn’t worked with them.
They pulled up outside what seemed to be a diner of some sort. YN hadn’t lived here long, so she hadn’t explored anyway but her house, the hospital, and the supermarket.
“What is this place?”
“You’ll find out,” Harry opened the car door for her, “Not a fan of surprises?”
“I’m a surgeon,” YN stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Surprises normally equal either more work for me or death. I’m not a fan of surprises.”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
Harry opened the door to the diner for YN, allowing her to step in first like a proper date. This was a proper date.
“Harry!” An older woman called from behind the counter, “It’s so good to see you!”
“Hi, Mrs Chapman,” Harry didn’t even flinch when the woman came and placed a kiss on her cheek, “How are you?”
“I’m fine, doll, how are you?” The older woman pulled away but kept her hands firmly on Harry’s arms, “Still the best doctor that ever lived? My Harrison is doing his exams later this year thanks to you.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Mrs. Chapman,” Harry finally managed to pull himself out of the older woman’s grasp, “Are we okay to sit?”
Mrs. Chapman looked over at YN, then she gasped and nodded, “Of course you are! Your booth’s free, Harry. Let me know if you need anything.”
Harry just smiled, leading YN towards a booth at the back of the diner with a hand on the nape of her back. Each time that YN found out a little bit more information about Harry, it shocked her and didn’t simultaneously.
“Do you leach off a lovely woman whose child you saved?” YN asked, raising her eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from Harry.
“I do not leach,” Harry shook his head, passing YN a menu, “I found this place way before Harrison came to see me. Mrs. Chapman is a lovely woman, who now gives me free food now and then because I saved her grandson.”
YN just sighed, shaking her head, and looking down at the menu again. It had everything that a typical diner would have, but I suppose the thing that made it different from the rest was the connection that Harry had with it.
“Do you come here often, then?” YN asked, deciding on whether she wanted a burger or not, “To be on a first-name basis with the owner?”
“Maybe,” Harry shrugs, not even looking at the menu as though he already knows what he is going to have. He then sighs, “It’s the only place around here that’s open twenty-four hours. I come here because the food’s nice, the people are nice and I’m normally too tired to cook after a shift.”
“God,” YN sighs, leaning back in the booth and crossing her arms over her chest, “If I’d have known this place existed I would’ve saved so much money on crappy microwave meals.”
“Oh,” Harry shakes his head, “No, we can’t be having that.”
“Okay then,” YN drops her menu on the table in front of them, “What do you recommend?”
They end up ordering way too much food than what would normally be appropriate for two people to eat. They had burgers, and milkshakes and god only knows how many different types of pie. The only constellation that YN had for it was that they’d be able to take the leftovers home and that was one thing she loved more than eating out was the leftovers the next day.
“I’m stuffed,” YN sighed, dropping her fork down on her plate. She had just put back a burger, a handful of fries and half of two slices of pie (cherry and apple) in one sitting. In YN’s defence, she had been in the OR for the majority of the day, and that therefore meant scoffing a sandwich in the twenty-minute break she found herself having about six hours ago.
“So, you’re not going to help me finish this last slice of pie?” Harry pouted his lips slightly at her, pushing the plate with the last bit of cherry pie towards her.
YN sighed, but it didn’t take her long to pick up her fork and dig it into the last piece of the pie. YN ate half of it, and Harry had the other half. At that point, YN felt as though she was truly and honestly going to burst now. If it was socially acceptable to unbutton her trousers, she would have done that.
“That’s it,” YN shook her head, waving her hands in front of her, “Stop feeding me. I can’t take it anymore.”
“It was good though?” Harry nodded, “Right?”
“So good,” YN sighed, unable to hold the smile off her face, “I don’t think I’ve eaten this good since moving here.”
“Not much of a cook?” Harry laughed, wiping his hands with his napkin.
YN shook her head, leaning back on the booth. Even though she was having a lovely time, there was a part of her that was exhausted, but she wanted to stay. Even though every muscle in her body, every ache was screaming at her to go home and go to bed – she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave; she didn’t want this night to end.
“I’m not much of anything,” YN shrugged, “I’m a surgeon. That’s about it.”
“I don’t believe that,” Harry shook his head, “I believe that, yeah, you’re a surgeon, but I don’t think that’s all there is to you. That’s all I want to know.”
YN sighed, her teeth clamping down on the inside of her lip, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait.”
“I’m going to have to wait?” Harry laughed, “What am I going to have to wait for?”
“Our next proper date.”
Harry’s entire face beamed out into a smile, and YN couldn’t help but join him. In all honesty, whilst there was a level of comfortableness between them there was also a part that made her giddy. It was new and it was exciting and even though alarm bells were ringing for her that this was her boss, she had never felt this way about anybody before.
She didn’t think she ever would again.
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#3
The third time it happened, YN knew that this was going to be for good.
“You’re going to get married, and you’re going to have his babies and get a dog and I’m just going to be watching from the sidelines. Single. With fifteen cats. No husband, no cute kids. No sexy husband that’s good with the cute kids…”
“Iris?” YN interrupts before the girl could carry on her rambling.
“Yeah?” The girl beamed, a sad smile crossing her lips.
“You’re doing it again,” YN sighed, dropping her hands to the top of her charts, “The thinking out loud. The crazy cat lady thing. I know you think that you’re making yourself feel better by speaking into the universe, but it’s just sad Iris.”
“You know what’s sad?” Iris sighed, and that’s when YN saw the glaze over her eyes again, “That I’m not going to have a hot doctor husband, and cute kids, and –”
“That’s it,” YN sighed, picking up her chart and moving away from her boyfriend, “I’m leaving. I can’t listen to this anymore.”
YN had taken all but two steps away from the desk when she felt someone’s arm knock into hers. She didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
YN and Harry had been living in bliss for the past six months. They had done this properly. They had been on dates, ‘proper’ dates as they had continued to call them, and every day just seemed to get better. That wasn’t to say that they hadn’t had their ups and downs. Two doctors, paediatricians at that, trying in a relationship would have its ups and downs. They were emotional, exhausted, and stubborn. That meant that every so often their heads butted together and it either ended up in them screaming at each other or just sitting in complete silence.
“What can’t you listen to anymore?” He asked, his shoulder brushing hers and they walked down the corridor.
YN sighed, “Iris is having her cat existential crisis again. I told you it was a bad idea for her to get a cat, and what did you say? You said it was a good idea, and now I’m –”
“Woah,” Harry stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down, “Now you’re having the cat existential crisis.”
YN sighed, lifting her hand to scratch her eyebrow, “She’s infecting me. Harry, we have to do something. You must have some single friends. Something. We need to fix this.”
“We don’t,” Harry shakes his head, “I know she’s your best friend and you –”
Whatever Harry was going to say next didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter because a scream came from down the hall. It wasn’t a good scream, and before anything else could be said the two of them were rushing down the hallway and into the room where the scream came from.
It was Paige. She was their latest patient, in for Lymphoma. It was a recent diagnosis – very recent and the girl was crying and screaming.  The nurse looked as though she was going to have a breakdown herself.
“She won’t let us put an IV in,” The nurse sighed, “We’ve tried everything, but she just keeps screaming.”
“It’s going to hurt!” Paige screamed back, wet hot tears streaming down her face as she looked between Harry and YN.
Harry looked at YN and she just nodded, “We’ll take it from here Kathy.”
The nurse nodded, leaving the room, and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. YN flinched slightly, but at the same time she knew how stressful children could be sometimes. She also knew that Kathy was coming off a long shift, and that could also factor into the stress.
“I’m sorry,” Paige’s mother spoke from the corner of the room, her eyes welling up just like her daughters were, “She’s never normally like this. I tried. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry smiled, dropping down onto the seat next to Paige’s bed, pulling some gloves onto his hands, “Needles are scary. They’re sharp, and they’re scary.”
“It’s going to hurt,” Paige whined, her chest wracking with more sobs, “It hurt last time, Dr. Styles, I don’t wanna hurt.”
Harry sighed, “It does hurt, I’m not going to lie to you, Paige.”
YN’s eyes furrowed as Harry spoke but shrugged off his jacket at the same time. He pulled the tourniquet out of the unopened IV kit and wrapped it around his arm, pulling it tight.
“It hurts, but only for a minute,” Harry smiled, “Dr. YLN here is going to show you how it’s done, and I’m going to explain every little step. Is that okay, Paige?”
Paige’s tears were still falling, but her breathing had slowed down slightly. YN pulled on another pair of gloves and prepped the needle.
“This rubber band is a tourniquet,” Harry explained, “You’ve probably had one before when you were having your blood taken. You see, it helps us to see your veins,” Harry pointed out the vein in his arm which had popped out. “Dr. YN here is going to insert the needle and… yes it’s going to hurt, and it’s hurting but now it’s not.”
When YN had finished putting the needle into Harry’s arm, she looked back up to see Paige’s tears had stopped and a small smile on her face.
“So,” Harry smiled, pulling the needle out and holding some cotton wool on his arm, “How about Dr YLN goes and gets a new IV kit, and your mother holds your hand whilst I do it, yeah?”
Paige smiles, nodding her head, “Yeah.”
Once YN had brought a new IV kit into the room, she just stood by the door – watching. She watched as Harry spoke to Paige through the IV, keeping the young girl calm throughout the entire thing. Just watching Harry and watching not only how good at his job he was but also how he acted around the children was everything that YN needed to know.
The icing on top of the cake was when he started to tease the young girl, pretending that he didn’t have any lollipops to give her, even though he had some in his coat pocket. YN smiled, watching as the girl who once had tears streaming down her cheeks was now laughing, playing with Harry, and trying to guess which pocket had the lollipops in.
YN walked out of the room with that cheesy smile on her face, trying not to make it obvious the reason why but she knew. Iris was still sitting behind the nurses’ station, and YN stopped in front of her and sighed.
“You’re right,” YN chuckled lightly, “We’re going to have really cute babies.��
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“We did good today,” YN sighed, placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of Harry. YN dropped down next to him, accepting the space underneath his arm to squeeze into.
They had been on their feet a long time today, and just the fact that they were both now curled up on the sofa, with a glass of wine to soften the blow was all YN needed. Paige’s surgery had a few minor complications, but it was nothing that YN couldn’t handle. When Paige had woken up, the smile on her face knowing that she could finally eat the lollipop in a few hours that Harry had given her was enough for YN to know that it was worth it.
“We did,” Harry sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Paige is going to make a full recovery and she’ll be back on her feet in no time – all thanks to you.”
YN sighed, “Wouldn’t have even been able to operate without you.”
Harry just sighed, his lips ghosting over YN’s head. There was a change in the atmosphere, and YN could tell. Harry didn’t say anything else, and YN didn’t know whether he wanted to talk or not.
“You want to talk about it?” She spoke quietly, her finger drawing lines along his knee that was sprawled out in front of her.
Harry sighed against her, pressing another kiss to her head, “Not now. I will later though, I promise.”
“Okay,” YN smiled, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Can I tell you something?”
Harry hummed. YN hesitated for a second, not knowing whether this was the right time to do this or not. But then she remembered today, and she remembered that feeling that she had whilst she had been watching Harry with Paige. She remembered the tightness in her chest, and it wasn’t worry or stress. She knew what it was, and all she could hope was that he’d feel the same way.
“I think…” YN started but then she shook her head slightly, “No, I know. I know that I love you, Harry.”
Harry lifted his head from the top of YN’s head, turning so that she was looking at him. When YN’s eyes met his, she was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly filling up. YN lifted her hand to his face, placing her palm on his cheek and making sure that he was okay.
“I…” Harry started, and YN’s heart pummelled to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t tell. She had admitted to the man that she was the love of her life, the man who was it for her and she couldn’t tell what he was going to say. She froze. She froze, and then he smiled, “I love you.”
YN sighed, and it took everything in her to not pick up one of the cushions next to her and launch it at Harry’s head, “Don’t scare me like that again. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
“What?” He laughed, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek and then to the nape of her neck, “What do you mean?”
“Your face, and the silence and –” YN pulled away from him slightly, moving so that there was a gap between them. Until a wave of something covered her and before she knew it she was standing up, “Then the hesitation! You hesitated and you looked like you were going to cry, and then you hesitated to tell me that you love me!”
Harry sighed, sitting up with his knees open in front of her. Harry reached out for YN’s hands, but she pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I love you. I love you more than anything YN, and I know that it hasn’t been long – but I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you.”
YN sighed, but reached out and dropped her hands into Harry’s, “You’re not upset with me then?”
“No,” Harry shook his head, “I just… today, with Paige. That girl. She was so scared, so scared. Her parents were scared, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m a doctor, that’s what I am and the entire time all I could think about was you. In the surgery, I wondered how you were feeling, and what you might have wanted for dinner tonight.”
YN sighed, reaching forward to place a hand on his cheek – his face leaning into her touch.
“Harry…”
“I have never, ever not thought of the hospital, and my patients the entire day since I was a trainee. Then you come, and you’re always there – in the back of my mind. I love you so much, YN, and I would never hesitate to tell you that.”
YN didn’t say anything else. Instead, YN took a step forward. She grasped Harry’s face in her hands. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer until his head was resting upon her stomach. YN’s fingers slipped through his hair, right until they were at those curls at the bottom of his neck that she loved. She could feel his lips pressing tiny pecks into her stomach over her shirt. Using the curls, she tugged lightly to pull his face away from her stomach, and she could immediately lean down and capture his lips with hers.
YN sighed into the kiss, her body collapsing onto his until she was straddling him. His hands picked up speed, slipping underneath her shirt as hers tugged on his hair – their lips moving together at the same rate.
“I love you,” Harry mumbled against her lips, not stopping his kisses for even a second.
YN pulled away for a second, pushing his hair off his forehead, “Then show me… please.”
Harry nodded, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before helping YN up and off of the sofa. The two of them stumbled into YN’s bedroom quickly, their hands never leaving each other’s body.
It was new, it was exciting, and it was good. It was love.
Harry dropped down on the bed, and YN followed – dropping on his lap just as she had been on the sofa. His fingers fiddled with the edge of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra (it being the first thing to come off her body when she came home), and his lips immediately started placing kisses all over her chest and breasts.
“I love you,” He mumbled against her skin.
“Do you love me? Or do you love my boobs?”
Harry chuckled, his teeth grazing her nipple lightly, “I love you and I love your boobs… equally.”
YN laughed, pushing him away from her body lightly, “You’re such an idiot.”
“I am,” He placed her kiss on her chest, “I’m an idiot,” he placed another kiss on her neck, “But I’m an idiot who loves you.”
Piece by piece their clothing was removed, and whispers and kisses and giggles were shared until they were both naked. They had moved further up so that Harry’s back was pressed against the headboard, YN hovering above him.
Their movements started slow, YN sliding herself down onto Harry’s cock. The feeling was full, and amongst that, it was full of love. Harry’s hands landed on YN’s hips, helping her move whilst YN’s clutched the headboard. YN gasped into Harry’s mouth as she started to rotate her hips.
“Harry,” YN moaned into his mouth, one of her hands leaving the headboard to grasp his shoulder. Harry started to help her, his hips rolling up to meet hers, causing YN’s nails to press into the skin of his shoulder.
“Keep going for me, baby,” Harry mumbled, his head dropping down to YN’s shoulder – his lips grazing her skin, “Come on, keep going for me.”
YN sped up her hips, listening to Harry’s words of encouragement. There was no way that YN could be closer to Harry than she was at this moment, but with each thrust, she wanted to be.
“So wet for me baby,” Harry mumbled, “Doing so well for me baby.”
“Harry, please,” YN whined, her hips moving quicker and quicker with every passing moment, “I need more, I need you more.”
“You wanna switch?” Harry pulls his head up from her shoulder, looking directly into her eyes, “Just tell me, baby.”
YN’s hips stopped and with Harry’s help, she lifted herself off him. YN whimpered slightly at the loss of contact, but the second that she moved so that she was on her back, Harry was hovering over her.
“Harry, please,” YN’s hands clawed at his back, pulling him closer to her.
“You okay?” He asked, one hand on his cock to line it up with her entrance and the other one holding his body up by her head.
“Please,” YN nodded, her hands scratching down his back again, pushing lightly on the top of his ass, “Please Harry, I wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”
Harry didn’t hesitate to push inside of her, taking YN’s breath away. He moved forward so that their foreheads were touching each other’s. This was what YN wanted – what she needed. Each thrust of his hips felt as though he was bringing her closer and closer – not only to her orgasm but also to him.
“Harry,” YN whimpered, moving her lips onto Harry’s, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Harry picked up the pace, moving his hips faster and faster until he saw the tell-tale signs. YN’s breathing turned faster, and one of the hands that was on his back reached out to the bed next to her, screwing the sheets into her fist. It hadn’t taken Harry long to pick up the signs, listening to all of the signs that her body gave him. Once that switch was flipped, Harry knew exactly what to do.
“It’s okay, baby,” Harry mumbled against her lips, one of his hands slipping down between their bodies so that he could roll her clit between his fingers, “Let go for me, always look so pretty when you come for me – so pretty.”
“Harry, I’m so close,” YN’s hips moved up to meet Harry’s. The mixture of both Harry’s cock inside of her and also his fingers on her clit, speeding the process along – that was all that YN needed. Her orgasm raked through her body, a line of whimpers escaping her lips, along with a string of Harry’s name. Harry coaxed her through her orgasm, not stopping his pace until he saw the signs.
Harry came not long after, his body going rigid against YN’s. Harry’s head leant down to capture YN’s lips with his again, slowing his hips down until he came to a complete stop inside her. He dropped down – his body weight falling upon YN’s. She felt comfort with it, his body weight pressed on hers.
Silence fell between the two of them, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later when Harry moved to slip out of YN that any sound was made in the room apart from the sound of their breathing. YN felt an emptiness inside of her, but once Harry was laid at her side she wasted no time in moving closer to him. She lipped his leg in between his, her arm wrapping around his chest and resting on his shoulder.
“I…” YN started, her finger lifting to run down Harry’s cheek ever so lightly, “Think you’re a good omen.”
“What?” Harry smiled, tilting his head down slightly so that he could look at her, where her head was resting on his shoulder.
“A good omen,” YN shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I think… you were brought to me to show me that everything is going to be okay.”
“It is going to be okay,” Harry nodded, lifting his hand to brush her hair off her forehead, “Everything is going to be okay.”
It wasn’t that YN believed in anything like that. She didn’t believe in signs before all of this but now. Now, she believed that Harry was her sign. He was her sign.
He was her good omen.
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lexirosewrites · 1 day
Text
Steddie as rival lawyers who have very different careers.
Steve became a prosecuting attorney after graduating from a top school at his parents’ insistence. It pays well and makes them happy, even if it’s joyless for him to fight for things he doesn’t believe in.
Prosecuting innocent people and fighting for the sake of money without morals.
On the other end of the spectrum is free-spirited Eddie Munson. He’s a defense attorney who shows up in ill-fitting suits that show off his many neck and hand tattoos. Piercings in his ears and hair that’s not tidy or tamed in any way.
He’s a rebel who barely graduated from some lower tier law school with no prestige whatsoever.
Steve naturally assumed their first trial would be a breeze.
But somehow— sheer dumb luck, bad jury selection, or just stupid fate— Eddie wins. And he keeps winning.
Over and over for months.
Steve’s long uninterrupted winning streak becomes a losing one. If Eddie’s in the courtroom too, Steve knows he’s already lost his case.
It’s humbling.
Actually, it’s frankly embarrassing to lose to someone who’s so unprofessional and doesn’t take the law seriously like Steve.
Eddie is respectful of course, but he doesn’t use lawyer-speak unless he’s referencing a precedent of a law. Other than that, he’s overly casual and friendly. Everyone’s favorite lawyer.
He doesn’t lack passion though. No, the guy all but hops up on tables to make speeches about freedom or the American dream during every trial. Utterly ridiculous.
It works though. The juries fall for his bullshit about being down to earth and his clients walk free because of it.
Steve can’t stand it. He can’t stand Eddie and his mockery of his career.
This ultimately culminates in a confrontation in the parking lot one night after a particularly tense trial conclusion.
Once again, Eddie’s guy walked free and Steve knows he’s gonna hear about it from his boss (who also happens to be his dad).
So he might snap a bit when Eddie comes out whistling and looking happier than anything.
“Hey, jackass!”
Eddie looks around like Steve might be referring to some other jackass, despite the otherwise empty parking lot.
He points to himself in question and Steve rolls his eyes in answer.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie finally greets him with a smirk. “Chinese takeout for tonight sound good?”
Steve’s stomach growls at the mere suggestion.
He’d accidentally skipped lunch earlier so he could make changes to his closing argument. Fat load of good that did him.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re not off the hook that easily though. What the hell was that brutal cross examination on my witness, you dickhead?”
Eddie smiles extra sweetly and presses a quick but affectionate kiss to Steve’s forehead first.
“All’s fair in love, war, and court, baby. You can whine about it later when we’re home if you really want to. I happen to know some very nice pillows that would love to muffle your pretty little moans.”
Asshole.
He blushes, glancing around to make sure they’re still alone before he pulls Eddie into an embrace.
They’ve barely spent any time together this week because of the tense trial and he really missed his boyfriend (not to be mistaken for the jackass who argues with him daily in the courtroom).
As much as they can separate their personal and work lives, it’s hard to not be on the same side of things.
“What if I want you to hear me moan, Eddie? I think it’s only fair since you seem to get everyone else off and I’m the one always suffering for it,” he mumbles snarkily into Eddie’s shirt.
Eddie laughs at the pun. He knew that he would.
“Is that why you’re sulking, babylove? You want me to get you off too?” He nods with a pathetic whine. Not getting to cum for a few days can do that to a person. “I think that can be arranged. You’ve been such a good boy for me lately. You’ve earned a treat.”
Steve melts into his boyfriend’s arms, feeling loved.
“I missed you.”
Another kiss to the forehead, but this time Eddie’s lips linger there as he speaks.
“Missed you too, sweetheart. Not sorry for winning, but I am sorry that you lost.”
Steve knew the defendant was innocent. There wasn’t much of a case to be made anyway. It still stings though.
“Yeah... I’ve been thinking about that and it might be time to quit my dad’s firm. I’d much rather be on the same side as you,” Steve confesses.
Eddie pauses.
“Does that mean…”
Steve looks up smiling and confirms, “Yes. I’ll accept the job offer if it’s still on the table.”
The rival lawyer had offered him a job months ago, before they even got together.
By accepting the position, it means they’d finally be allowed to be a couple publicly and they’d be sitting on the same side of the court for once.
It would also free Steve from his dad’s control and disappointment.
“Stevie, I’d love nothing more than to have you as my partner. In both the court and life. I love you, sweetheart.”
He can’t resist.
“I love you too… jackass.”
Eddie makes good on his promise to get Steve off that night. He even brings out the handcuffs for accuracy sake.
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f0point5 · 1 day
Note
i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
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✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
388 notes · View notes
multifandomlover01 · 3 days
Text
Not Technically Mine…But Still Unequivocally Mine
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (not AFAB specific)
WC: ~2.9k
Warnings: reader is undercover bait, very scummy suspect, very uncomfy situation and dialogue, touching, Spencer is concerned for her safety, biological male reaction mention, strangulation mention but not depicted, the b word is used to describe the reader, he spits on her too
Summary: (based off a post by @hereforhalstead and fic semi-requested by @ribbongrll) Reader has to go undercover as bait to lure in a suspect, and Spencer is not happy about it. He’s very protective and almost caused the mission to not be completed
Note: I envisioned post prison Spencer for this so it’s like S13-15 (JJ and Luke are in here), also third person and idk what’s happening with the tenses. Also a bit repetitive? Bit annoying?
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Spencer absolutely fucking hated it whenever he had to be in a club or a bar for a case. It didn’t matter how much time he had to spend in the building. He got anxious and overstimulated very quickly. The only thing that made it worse was when some guy flirted with his equally as anxious female coworker (who was also his best friend who he was also in love with). Every time a guy would flirt with her while she just stood there, uncomfortable and silent, his heart broke. He’d glare at the guy and if he still didn’t take that hint, say something. Luckily, this usually took care of any further interaction.
Apparently the only thing worse than some guy flirting with his best friend/crush was her being bait for a suspect. She was his exact type, physically speaking and personality wise. Spencer almost immediately objected when he saw the form fitting and revealing dress that JJ had helped her pick out. But he doubted he’d be able to convince Prentiss and Rossi to ditch the plan. It was the best one they had. At least Spencer got to go undercover with her as her date…although he didn’t know if this actually would make the situation better or worse.
He didn’t even notice that his hand was brushing against hers the whole ride. He also didn’t notice that he was sweating a little bit.
“You’d better not do that in the club…you’ll give us away.” She teases and he doesn’t know what she’s talking about until he is suddenly physically aware of the perspiration.
He chuckles. “I won’t. Don’t worry.” He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs his face and neck.
They arrive at the club. He gets out of the vehicle and helps her out. He suppressed a groan when she tugs on her dress to futilely get it to cover more of her thighs. He gingerly grasps her hand and leads her inside.
“Remember…be your shy sweet self but not too reserved and reluctant because we need-”
“The suspect outside, yes, I know, Spence. We’ll be ok.” She chuckles as she looks at him.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He frowns.
“You think I want to get hurt.” She furrows her eyebrows.
“Of course not.” He shakes his head, smiling some. “But it’s my job to protect you and…I don’t wanna fail.”
“I have to let him get me outside, isolated and alone so that JJ and Luke can apprehend him. You can’t protect me once I’m on my own with him.” She states what he was trying not to think about. She was right, though, of course.
“Just…be careful, ok?” He squeezed her hand.
“I will, don’t worry.” She squeezed his back. “Hey, I’ve done better for longer on my field training that you have, remember?”
“I remember when you had to help me pass my test to still be qualified to carry a gun and be in the field.”
“And now you don’t even need my help. You’ve gotten better and I’m proud of you. There’s always room for improvement…even for me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Spencer still wasn’t sure about this whole situation as they took a seat at the bar at the club. There was only one seat available. Spencer thought about letting her take it as the lady while he stood but then an idea he liked struck him. He sat down on the bar stool, took a hold of her waist and hoisted her up into his lap. He held her tightly to him as he had his arms wrapped around her waist.
“What’re you doing?” She asked, slightly confused by his behavior.
“I’m your date. I’m being…friendly.”
“That’s not why.” She huffs slightly.
“Alright…I’m protecting you, then.” His breath tickles her ear.
“Do I have to be in your lap?”
“I would say that…yes, you do.” He said rather definitively.
They ordered drinks (he made sure to order her a virgin cocktail so she had no actual alcohol in her system, not only was this regulation for an undercover agent, but he knew the last thing he wanted was for her cognition to not be at 100%). They sipped their drinks as she remained in his lap.
Spencer remained vigilant to his surroundings when she had to be more subtle about it to maintain her “oblivious” undercover role. He was grateful that it made sense for a girl’s date to want to ward off any potential girl stealers. He was not so grateful that the suspect did not care about that (even if the whole point of being bait and undercover as a couple was to lure him in to apprehend him).
It didn’t escape her notice that he’d tighten his grip around her whenever any guy got particularly physically close to her for whatever reason (even if it was as innocuous as standing beside her at the bar to order drinks) even if they didn’t even glance at her, let alone talk to her.
“You can relax some, you know. The suspect is going to be much bolder. You don’t have to spike your poor heart rate over every little thing.”
“I care about you. I won’t have you getting hurt.”
“We went over this. I’m perfectly capable of-”
“I know, I know you are, ok? It’s not…it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s-”
“Excuse me…” An overly charming and soft voice says, cutting Spencer off.
Their eyes immediately flit over to the man that had suddenly appeared. Spencer’s blood runs cold when he realizes that this is the man that matches the descriptions that the bartenders and patrons had given.
Spencer tenses, gripping her hips tightly as he holds her to him.
“I was just at that table over there and couldn’t help notice this…vision of loveliness right here.” He smiles as his hand rests on her knee. She cringes. Spencer’s blood boils.
“Don’t touch her.” He says in a dangerously low tone.
“Oh come on…I’m not gonna hurt the little lady. I’m merely…admiring her.” He steps ever so closer.
“Back off.” Spencer says, or rather…he grits it out. His grip on her hips tightens and she’s starting to wonder if they’ll bruise if he grips any tighter or if he does so for long.
“Oh come on…don’t be such a hard ass. What do you say, darling? How’s about…you and I…ditch this guy and I’ll show you a real good time.” Spencer wishes he could punch that stupid smirk off his face and break his hand as it slides further up her thigh. She’s squirming in his lap, pressing back into him (which doesn’t help another situation).
“You won’t. She’s clearly uncomfortable. You should take a hint and piss off.”
While she is in actuality very uncomfortable around this man, she knows she needs to get him outside.
“Well I…” She forces herself to scoot a bit off of Spencer’s lap and closer to the man. Spencer doesn’t loosen the grip on her hips and pulls her back against him.
“See? The lady here does seem interested.” His smirk hasn’t disappeared as his fingers are now at the hem of her dress.
Spencer has to fight between his instinct to get her as far away from this man as possible and his recognition of the mission. He just glares at the man. Reluctantly, he keeps his mouth shut.
“That’s it…listen to your girl here. Come on, honey. He seems like a real fun guy but…I promise to show you a night you’ll never forget. You’ll feel things you’ve never felt before.”
She scoots off Spencer’s lap a bit and he reluctantly loosens his grip. The man wastes no time sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. She lets him lead her away. Spencer’s knuckles turn white against the bar counter as he sees the bastard caress her and then sees his hand move lower and squeeze her ass.
He just prays that she can keep herself safe with her training. She couldn’t wear a wire or anything. But he had one to inform JJ and Luke that they were on their way out to them. All he had to do was wait. He heard the confirmation that they’d made it outside and had been spotted by the agents placed there in the alley.
“Guys…tell me what’s going on.” Spencer murmurs into the mic.
“She’s fine. Just sit tight, Spence.” JJ tries to calm him down. It doesn’t work.
“Don’t tell me to just sit tight, JJ. I…I can’t just sit tight knowing she’s out there with that monster. You’ve got eyes on her. Please tell me she’s ok.” Spencer says pleadingly.
“She’s handling herself, man, ok? She’s capable.” Luke now tries to assuage Spencer’s fears. This also is not successful.
“That’s also not what I asked, Luke.”
Spencer hears Luke sigh. “He’s got her up against the alley wall, ok?”
“Well what’s he doing to her?”
“Spence-”
“What’s he doing?” Spencer insisted.
“Well he’s…fondling her…kissing her neck.”
“Jesus Christ…when are you guys gonna apprehend him? What if he hurts her?” Spencer is starting to get very concerned.
“We have to wait.”
“For what?! For him to strangle her?!”
“We need to wait until there is probable cause for an arrest. She’ll fend him off and he’ll push too far.”
“But how far? Does her dress have to be ripped? Does she have to be humiliated coming back in here?” Spencer was getting angry at his friends. They knew how much he cared about her. He didn’t often get like this.
“Just another minute or so, then we’ll go, ok?” Luke says, hoping again that this’ll calm him.
“Ok…only that…no longer. You can’t leave her with him for longer than that. Please…please protect her.” Spencer says softly.
“We will, Spence. We promise.”
“Thank you.” He sighs in relief.
It is indeed only another minute or two before go time, with JJ and Luke revealing themselves to the suspect. He is startled when two FBI agents with guns come out of the shadows. But before he can get angry and lash out at them, he turns that anger towards his potential victim.
“You…bitch!” He seethes, spitting in her face, causing her to gasp. This causes Luke to push him against the wall as he handcuffs him.
“Alright. That’s enough, buddy. We’re taking you in now.”
“You set me up? This was a set up?! I didn’t do anything! You pigs set me up!” He yells as Luke wrestled him over and into a squad car down at the end of the alley.
JJ comforts her briefly as she stands shaking slightly against the wall.
“Go back inside. Spence is quite anxious to see you.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.”
She wanders back inside the club, tugging her dress to get it back in place, wiping her smudged lipstick off, wiping the spit off as well.
Spencer is out of his seat like a rocket and bounding towards her the second he sees her enter the door she’d exited out of. He doesn’t say anything as he engulfs her in a tight embrace.
“I’m so glad you’re ok.” He whispered softly in her ear.
“I’m always ok.”
“You don’t have to be. It’s ok to not be ok.” He caressed her back.
“I know. But I’m ok.”
“What if…what if I’m not?” He holds her tightly to him. He buried his face in her neck.
“Why would you…not be ok? I’m…I’m fine.”
“You don’t understand, hon. This whole thing…has been near torturous for me. Watching that man…talk to you…flirt with you…touch you and knowing he was…” He’s shaking now and he doesn’t even realize it.
She caresses his back. “Hey…hey…it’s ok. I’m ok. It’s all over now.” She whispered softly.
“I just didn’t want you to get hurt. If that monster had hurt you…”
“Why don’t we get out of here, huh? I think we should go.”
“Fucking finally.” He groans as he wraps an arm around her waist and swiftly makes his way with her to the front exit of the club. He takes a nice deep breath once he’s exposed to the cool night air. He didn’t even realize how suffocating that environment was to him.
He helps her back into the vehicle as it’s brought around and still keeps her close to him as they head to the hotel to decompress for the night.
Once in the calm peaceful safety of the hotel room, he grabs his sleepwear from his bag and then gets hers for her as well. She had retreated to the bathroom to remove her makeup and take the dress off. Spencer enters the bathroom without knocking. He gets an eyeful of his best friend in her underwear and his face turns red.
“Oh um…I’ll just…leave these here. Sorry.” He puts her sleep wear on the counter and turns quickly to leave, shutting the door behind him.
He changes outside the bathroom in the room, still very embarrassed about his faux pas. He should’ve knocked. He just had so much on his mind at that moment that he’d completely forgotten to do it.
He occupied himself with a book as he sat up on the bed. His head lifts when he hears the bathroom door open. As beautiful as she’d looked in that dress and makeup, she looked infinitely more comfortable in her sleep wear and with no makeup. And because she seemed so comfortable and relaxed now, she somehow seemed even more radiant to him.
“Hey.” He says softly as he smiles at her. “Feeling better?”
“Much better. Thank you.” She smiles back at him as she sits on her own bed.
He looks over at her as she gets her own book out to relax. She goes to put her earbuds in her ear and he stops her. He knows she’s going to listen to music.
“You don’t have to put those in. You can just…play it from the phone.”
She looks over at him. “Really? You’re sure? I dunno how you’re gonna feel about some of the music.”
“It’s fine. I’ll listen to whatever you wanna listen to.” He shrugged. He very much wanted to relax and listen to music together with her instead of it seeming like they were doing it separately.
“Ok. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” She chuckles as she puts her earbuds away and turns the volume up on her phone to prepare to play her music.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“You say that now.” She smirks as she presses play.
Classical music starts to play.
“What do you mean you warned me? That’s just Mozart!” He exclaimed.
“For now.”
“Oh for now.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “What’s next…Wagner? Don’t get crazy now.”
“Oh you just wait, Reid…just you wait.”
“Don’t tell me you have Hans Zimmer on there. That’d be really crazy.” He joked.
“Something wrong with movie and tv soundtracks?”
“No, not at all! I love them too. I’m merely amused at what you consider crazy.”
His smile falls when metal music starts playing. She laughs at his confused expression.
“I told you I warned you!”
“Now I’m concerned about what you consider relaxing.” He raises his eyebrows.
“I can always put my earbuds in.” She offers, pointing to them.
“No…no. It’s fine. Then I’d just be concerned for your hearing.” He shakes his head.
“You’re awfully concerned about me a lot of the time.” She notes, pausing the music.
“Of course I am. You’re my best friend. I care about you.”
“Well yeah but…how much?” She queried.
“What do you mean?” He cocks his head.
She scoffs. “You know what I mean, genius. Now answer the question.”
“Well…um…I suppose that…the answer is…a lot.” His gaze is averted from her.
“Spencer…look at me please.” She requests softly.
He obeys and his gaze lifts to meet here. “Yes?” He asks softly.
“Enough to almost blow our chance of catching that scum?”
He chuckled sheepishly, remembering what he’d done. “Yeah…that much.”
She puts her book down and stands up, going over to his bed. He looks up at her as she stands in front of him. She smiles down at him as she reaches up to cup his face. He smiles back up at her, letting her touch him. He wasn’t bothered by her touch.
“You were really scared, weren’t you?” She asks softly.
“I was terrified.”
“Even though I can handle myself?”
“I know you can. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was…” he trails off and his gaze averts briefly.
“Yes?”
“I couldn’t rationalize it in my mind. I knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t seem to matter. I was still scared. I couldn’t calm down. All of my nerves were on edge.”
“But why? If you knew I’d be fine…why worry?”
“Because…I care about you…because…because I think I love you. No…that’s not…I-I know that I love you.”
“You love me? Really?” She smiles.
“Oh absolutely.” He smiled back. “I think I have for quite a while now, I just…I just didn’t know how to express that to you. I could never…find the right words.”
“You couldn’t find the right words?” She chuckles lightly.
“Believe it or not, no. But I’ve…I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.”
“Well…the great thing about feelings is…you don’t necessarily need words to express them.”
“You don’t?” He looked at her quizzically.
She shakes her head. “No. You don’t. Actions work just as well.”
“Act-”
She cuts him off for the first time ever by leaning down to kiss him softly. He smiles softly and presses into the kiss. He’s waited so long to feel her lips against his. And it’s just as wonderful as he imagined it would be.
345 notes · View notes
kingkaizen · 2 days
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𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓬'𝓼
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∘ desc: breeding scenarios revolving around the jujutsu kaisen boys, hope you enjoy <3
∘ ft: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna,+ choso
∘ a/n: first post on the blog! im so excited for you all to read. pls let me know if you want something similar for different characters, i'm open to ideas!
∘ includes: nsfw, breeding, dirty talk, creampie, crying
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Gojo
↠ this man has one of the biggest breeding kinks, this isn’t up for debate he’s so serious
↠ he can’t help but love the possessiveness of it all, the way you squeeze around him so tight while he mumbles over and over about how much he wants to fill you up
↠ “Fuck princess, you’re clenching around me so hard..makes me wanna give that pretty pussy what it deserves.”
↠ “Yeah, you want me to cum inside you baby? How bad do you want it? Tell me baby.”
↠ he can’t really make out your desperate response, but he could tell how much his words are affecting you by the way your back begins to arch paired with your eyes rolling to the back of your head
↠ the thought of getting you pregnant turns him on much more than he’d like to admit to you, why wouldn’t he want to put his claim over you in the most primal way possible?
↠ gojo can’t stop himself from pounding into you harder, reaching impossibly deeper as he presses your legs against your chest 
↠ “I can’t wait to see you all full with my cum, with our child.” 
↠ his fingers stroke at your clit before moving up to rub your tummy
↠ “right here? im gonna fuck a baby into you.”
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Geto
↠ geto’s breeding kink isn’t something that he’s ever mentioned to you before
↠ truthfully, it isn’t really something that he’s put much thought into in the first place
↠ it’s more of an “in the moment” thing
↠ he’s always been very rational, but all sense goes out the window once he hears your voice
↠ “god, you always sound so cute for me. begging for my cum just how i like.”
↠ he wants you to tell him how much you want it. He won’t give it to you unless he knows how desperate you are
↠ but even then, he knows that there’s no way that he could ever deny you anything
↠  so when he finally does let it all go, he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking underneath him
↠ “i’m gonna fill you up again and again until i cant anymore, you deserve it all.”
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Sukuna
↠ breeding to sukuna is a privilege
↠ he doesn’t care how needy you get, if you don’t deserve it, he won’t give it to you
↠ he’s a huge tease, so even if you think you’ve been good, he’s still never going to make it that easy
↠ he loves it most when you work so, so hard just to prove it to him
↠ with your hands gripping the sheets beneath you, he has you on all fours, towering over you casually as you push back against him
↠ “god you’re such a slut, i didn’t think you were this desperate to get me off.”
↠ his laugh sounds so sinister coming from him, smiling so wide at the way your arms shook as they began to give out
↠ sighing deeply, he braces a hand against the headboard, other hand gripping your waist as he finally moves you on his cock himself
↠ “you’re so pathetic, making me do all the work when you promised you could make me cum yourself. i guess you’d rather have me finish on your back then, hm?”
↠ the sound of your whining in response makes him feel that much more powerful
↠ “calm down, im just kidding. i’ll make sure you take it all inside of you like a good girl.”
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Nanami
↠ nanami isnt someone that i can see wanting kids
↠ sure, he probably would be very good with kids but it isnt something that he necessarily wants for himself
↠ the only aspect of this kink that nanami enjoys is the mess
↠ sex with him is always so passionate, he puts his everything into making you feel good
↠ he can’t help but crave the sight of his cum leaking out of your cunt, and the way it always leaves you twitching and begging for more
↠ “you always feel so good, getting me so worked up already.”
↠ after he’s through with you, he never stops there
↠ carefully placing your sore legs back down from their previous spot on his shoulders, he slowly plunges his fingers into your core
↠ he’s almost ashamed of himself by how much he gets off to your fallen tears as he scoops his cum from inside of you, hushing your soft hisses with rough kisses to your face 
↠ “c’mon baby, i want you to see how good we taste together.”
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Choso
↠ breeding for choso isn’t about the potential risks or even the mess
↠ he simply just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, completely losing all and any sense of control
↠ he never really indulges you in this kink unless he really just needs to let off some steam
↠ seeing you wear literally anything is enough to get him in the mood, he’s so attracted to you
↠ you were both on your way to meet up with some friends, but he couldn’t help dragging you into the bathroom
↠ you soon found yourself being fucked against the wall, choso not having a care in the world about anyone who could just walk in
↠ “i’m sorry baby, i couldn’t wait, j-just wanna be inside you.”
↠ he thrusts into you with such urgency, so needy for his release so that he can watch the way his cum trickles down your thighs
↠ your nails dragging down his back while creaming all over him sends him right to the edge, loud and desperate groans making its way to your ears as he sets you back down
↠”now you’re gonna walk back out there and hold my cum inside of you until we’re done here, okay?”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
395 notes · View notes
13atoms · 2 days
Text
Airplane Mode (Spencer Reid x Reader)
A quick blurb about Spencer Reid and his SO finally getting a resort vacation! (Or holiday, because I’m a Brit and saying vacation feels weird). Insp by the slightly weird holiday I’m currently on lol | 1k fluff
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Holidays were a bad omen for the BAU. Like complaining a night shift in a hospital is too quiet, or that it hasn’t rained in a while. Holidays meant something was bound to go wrong. So you’d waited until the very last minute to book the flights. Packed your suitcases two hours before leaving for the airport.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited to go away, or even to tell many friends you’d be on holiday.
The louder you said it, the more likely it was that Spencer would be called into work, and the whole thing would fall to the wayside in a series of frantic phone calls. Ultimately, it would only mean Spencer felt awful, and guilty, and it would have been better if you’d never planned anything in the first place. It wasn’t his fault, you couldn’t resent him for it, people’s lives were at stake.
But you were so excited for a vacation.
Even in the airport, as Spencer passed through security with the lazy, efficient movements of a weary regular flier, you’d been waiting for his phone to ring. For it to all be over. You’d held his arm in the airport lounge, waiting for the gate announcement, not daring to speak a word in case the universe heard you and Spencer had to jump on a different plane before yours had even taken off. Then there would be the arguing with the airline. The money lost, the forms for it to be refunded by the FBI, your bags missing because they were already packed deep into the hold of the plane.
You had clutched your coffee cup, already feeling dread and exhaustion overtaking you.
Then the plane had taken off. You hadn’t quite believed it. Spencer put his phone on airplane mode, and showed it to you.
“We’ve made it,” he whispered, through a smile, “it would be in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration regulations to take a call from work now.”
You shoved your face into his neck, and let yourself begin to feel excited.
The resort was one recommended by a colleague of Spencer’s, boring and relaxing, adults’ only and pleasantly quiet. There was a time and a place for exploring and excitement, but truly the thought of Spencer spending a single week away from work felt like excitement enough.
In the taxi from the airport, when Spencer had turned his phone back on and not received summons from Gideon, you finally let yourself utter the words:
“I can’t believe we’re on holiday.”
“I know!”
Spencer was giddy, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d heard him giggle, and it was so wonderful you had to pull his hand into yours and squeeze it.
“I am so excited to do nothing,” he admitted, though you knew his e-reader contained a small library’s worth of books.
“I just want to eat good food, and spend time with you.”
“I think I’m going to turn my phone off,” he said abruptly, as though he’d only just had the thought he could.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! Garcia knows where I am, if there’s a real emergency. That way I won’t feel like I have to check it all the time.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
He smiled at you, and you watched as he shot off a quick text to Penelope, before completely turning his phone off. For a moment there was silence, and you both waited, listening to the sound of rubber on tarmac and feeling the heat of the sun outside. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The realisation made you burst out laughing at the same time as Spencer, and you caught a flash of the driver’s backwards glance in the rear view mirror.
“You know what, mine too!”
You turned your phone off in solidarity, and stacked it beside his on the middle seat.
“Swap?” Spencer asked, offering you his phone, but you shook your head.
“Straight into the safe, when we get to the hotel. They can stay there.”
“That’s an even better idea.”
You knew, if it came down to it, if a life was at risk, he’d get the message from the hotel reception and go back to Quantico. That was okay. It was part of who he was, he needed the BAU, as much as they needed him.
There was a chain of people between that decision being made and Spencer finding out, including Gideon and Penelope, who would do everything in that power not to ask him. And that felt good.
For the first day, you let yourselves do only what you wanted to, to explore, to lie in bed, to read. Spencer needed the reminders not to watch every little thing that happened, not to examine poolsides and restaurants like they were crime scenes, but soon that went away and the frown in his brow was smoothed.
He wore swim trunks. He tried sips of your cocktail while floating in a pool. He laughed, and cried at one of the books he read, and ate properly, and let himself spend hours lying against your body in bed.
When you left the hotel, you both forgot your phones, and had to pay the taxi driver to turn around and get them.
“We should just leave them,” you’d joked breathlessly, as the receptionist concealed exasperation and politely led you to the room you’d just checked out of.
“That would be pointless, I’d just have to buy another one –” Spencer was distracted, following the receptionist, working out whether you’d miss the plane in the worst possible scenario.
You could see the stress in him, as the taxi driver waited outside with your bags, his meter running.
“Not if we stay here forever,” you teased, and finally saw the fall of his shoulders, the smile lines appearing on his face.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
Spencer made it a whole 24 hours after landing without getting on another plane, and you considered it a small victory. When he called you on the jet you could almost see him, skin a little bit more tanned, his hair still a little curlier from the sun and the chlorine.
“You’d better bring a souvenir, jet setter,” you teased, and imagined Spencer wrinkling his nose before he replied.
“We’re going to Milwaukee.”
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bluehoodiewoozi · 2 days
Text
KIM MINGYU + "I’m gonna make him sorry"
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Your boyfriend stared at you, worry and curiosity obvious in his eyes. You were almost tempted to put your phone on speaker.
“What is it?” he finally dared to quietly ask once he realised you hadn’t said a word in a good five minutes.
You shushed him and offered your sister some last words of encouragement and a quick, “I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay? … Yes, I’ll bring ice cream.”
The moment you hung up the phone, Mingyu perked up. You never were good at keeping secrets from him, so you sighed and told him, “That asshole cheated on her.”
“On your sister?” His eyes just about bulged out his head as his jaw dropped. He recovered fast though and soon the confusion was replaced with an angered frown. “How could he do that? Does he have no shame?”
“Apparently,” you scoffed, equally upset on your sister’s behalf. “He said he’s sorry, but she only found out from the girl he cheated with.”
“Sorry? He’s sorry?” Mingyu’s jaw clenched and his frown deepened. He took a moment to think, glaring at the wall as if it had personally offended him, as you gathered your things to head out. Then, he looked at you again. “Where does that jerk live?”
You froze. “... What?” 
“Where does the cheater live?” You shouldn’t have found him so attractive when he stood up from the sofa and  reached for his jacket, jaw still squared and hands threatening to clench into fists. “I’m gonna make him sorry, that jerk.”
Oh. You really shouldn’t have found that so hot – not while your sister was in the middle of a literal personal crisis. But here you were, a little flustered at the mere mention of your boyfriend defending your sister’s honour.
Processing your silence, Mingyu looked up and raised a brow. “I’m serious. Give me his address.”
“Are you going to fight him? Like… physically?” you wondered, whether your heart was beating fast from excitement or fear you weren’t entirely sure.
He shrugged. “Maybe. Or I’ll just yell at him until he cries like he made your sister cry. Either way, she deserves better.” He reached for the car keys you had just picked up and said, “Come on, I’ll drop you off home before I go.”
You could only stare at him, dumb with adoration for the man in front of you. “You really are the most perfect man I’ve ever met.”
Mingyu blinked, puzzled, before his ears started turning red. “I mean… I’m just doing my duty as her friend…” When you didn’t speak up, he quickly added, “And, I mean, you’re my girlfriend so that in a way sort of makes her my family too and I wouldn’t let it slide if this happened to one of my siblings.”
“I love you so much, you know that?” you finally told him. 
He coughed to cover up a proud smile threatening to appear. “You’ve told me a few times.” 
You chuckled and pulled him towards you by the collar of his jacket. As he came close enough to just barely brush his nose against yours, you whispered, “How about instead of fighting him, you come and help me cheer up my sister?”
Your boyfriend sighed, feigning defeat. “If I must…”
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cheshirebitch · 2 days
Text
ℕ𝕠𝕥 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕆𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤
(Alastor x Angel Dust’s Sister!Reader) pt. 2
It really has been a long time, huh?
( previous ) -> ( next )
I have never seen Anthony look at me like that, as though I’m the villain destroying his life. But, last I checked, he was the one going by the real villain that actually did take his life. It was purely distasteful with his choice of name, let alone the fact that was his porno name. What was so wrong with his actual name?
“Listen toots, I didn’t want to ask you for help. We didn’t have any other choice.” The venom spat back at me made my eyes narrow at him. What the fuck is his problem? All of this attitude is not how Anthony would talk to me. It felt like this whole new persona was taking over who he really is. I wanted to rip him apart, but not in front of these people. I can’t let everyone know my weaknesses, even if they pretty much all knew tiny parts.
“I get that. So I’ll ask again, what did you need help with?” I seethed through my teeth, feeling the watching eyes of all his friends. I only tensed up at my own attitude when I remembered Alastor and Lucifer were here too. I rolled my eyes closed and took a deep breath in and out before having an eerily calm aura surrounding me. Knowing I wasn’t going to get an answer out of the pissed off porn star brother, I looked towards Charlie. I could tell I made her nervous, shivers running down her spine before she straightened herself out and answered me.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard that we- uh-“ She glanced back at Lucifer who was wide eyed back, shrugging slightly as a response.
“That you,” pointing at Niffty with a smug smile, “killed the great and Holy Adam? Yeah, hard to miss when it’s being broadcasted on every device in hell.” I crossed my arms, smiling. It was really amusing to see Lucifer step in with his slip up of phrasing. Alastor also put on a good show by standing against Adam. I never expected him to actually take on such a powerful Heaven icon.
“Yeah, well, we need help with reinforcement in case the angels decide to retaliate.” She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, Lucifer watching me with anticipation. They all were, really. I was honored they considered me for help against heaven. Pretending to be debating it, I took long strides between Lucifer and Alastor.
“With all things considered, that’s a lot of my members being potentially killed for you. What do you have to offer me to make it worthwhile?” My hand started to glow pink, flexing my fingers and watching Charlie. Lucifer couldn’t make a deal with me or that’ll make more problems, only leaving Charlie and Alastor. Not like Luci would ever make the trust between us obvious. It would be a poor move if he wants to keep his weaknesses unknown. Alastor would rather drop dead than to be on a leash of someone else, though I have a sneaky suspicion it’s because he’s already on a leash. I should ask him about it next time we have one of our talks. Also, I already knew what they were going to sell to me but I can’t just make an assumption with it.
“We will make sure Angel Dust gets redeemed.” My eyes light up pink, turning around to look at Alastor. He held his hand out casually, opposite of how Charlie held hers against her chest. What a bland, and predictable, deal offer.
“Alastor, baby, I already knew that. We both knew that.” I winked at him. “So, what else?” His smile strained, despite it appearing to become more entertained. I read him like a book. It wasn’t very hard since he loves to hide behind a smile, saying it made things more intimidating. I’d like to think it’s more so the idea of being able to bottle those emotions he loves to hide.
“What else? Darling, I think it’s more than reasonable for that to be a big deal.” He smiled his sharp teeth, my eyes watched them carefully. A sneaky feeling crawling up my spine as my eyes stuck like a magnet to him. That’s when Lucifer pushed Alastor’s arm down, rolling his sleeves up, walking towards me. He stuck his hand outstretched towards me, trying to intimidate me with a hard stare. I just smiled in response, awaiting for his deal. I guess they really are desperate if Luci won’t even let Alastor and I pretend to hash out this deal. It was already mutually understood what he was going to offer was more than just that. He was just toying with the rest.
“We will get your brother into heaven, and you.” My smile froze on my face. I couldn’t get into Heaven. No matter how hard any of us tries, I’ll always be stuck here in hell. That fate was sealed long ago. My hands have been permanently stained red and black from how many lives I selfishly took after the death of my two siblings. My hands crossed tightly behind my back as I pondered harder over what he was promising.
I don’t think I want to go to Heaven. I couldn’t place why but something small was trying to tug me to decide to stay in hell.
Something small. The idea of being in heaven with my two younger siblings was bigger. Hell, maybe even the forgotten sibling will be there too.
“Can you even make deals, Luci?” I purred out the nickname in a taunting manner, giving a small moment of silence between us. Since he wanted to air out dirty laundry, I’ll give more hints to how close we actually are. But, he definitely didn’t think he could make a deal either. Charlie tried reasoning with him while Alastor watched from the sidelines, an odd look in his eyes. They flickered to Lucifer before narrowing with displeasure. I guess someone doesn’t like sharing friends.
“I guess we will see, won’t we La Morte.” He was struggling to remain professional. Neither of us wanted to act like this. This was all just a show for our professional standpoints, but I hated it. I’ve had to act professional and put together all my life, no matter how hard I fought against my father to create a life for myself and my siblings who wanted out. That’s all any of us wanted. Lucifer was a good guy despite the title he carries. His daughter is also an amazing girl. I would have agreed to do this either way. But, too many eyes were watching in this moment, too many windows and vulnerability to be spotted for our soft realities of each other. My hand gripped his as pink and gold clashed together.
“You got a deal, Satan.” My smile turned poisonous as I gripped his hand. My magic branded his palm with a pink heart, healing itself just as quickly into a scar. I felt the searing pain of a tally mark etch into my back, ignoring the feeling and refusing to let it slip out that it even happened.
“Anyways, enough with the professional talk. If we are going to be a team, call me by my name. I’m (Y/n).” Whether they could tell or not, my smile was genuine when I reached to shake hands with Charlie, Lucifer still rubbing his hand where the heart was branded onto him. Alastor watched heavily, something else pulling the weight of his stare on me. There’s no way he knows about the reciprocating brand mark. What can he notice that I don’t have hidden?
“Your name is really beautiful! I’m glad I don’t have to call you Death every time I refer to you now.” Charlie smiled genuinely back. Trying his best to make it sound like he has never called me by my name before. My eyes raked over his figure, understanding it’s a secret he wants to keep.
“Well of course, any friend of Anth- I mean Angel Dust, is a friend of mine.” The sibling sense kicked in before I even had to turn around. Anthony just rolled his eyes at me. Quick movements led to my shoe being thrown at Anthony’s head, smacking him hard enough in the face to send him backwards.
“Che cazzo!” (What the fuck!) My head snapped 180 with my body facing Charlie still. Through a clenched jaw and wide wild eyes, I lectured Anthony under my breath.
“Schialla, stronzo.” (Chill out, Asshole.) He immediately stopped, slouching against the wall. Anthony muttered under his breath but at least it wasn’t as disrespectful and obvious. Husk found it amusing enough to stifle a laugh with Vaggie.
“So, what’s the war plans?” I beamed, excited to get murderous for a good cause. Those exorcists killed a lot of my people, pissing off my whole team and myself tremendously. That was our family they were murdering brutally, just so they could have their sick fun and somehow remain in the sky. That was something Charlie and I could get along with.
“About that…” Lucifer awkwardly smiled. You’ve got to be joking. They have nothing? My eyes glanced at Alastor, who was still staring at me. I narrowed my eyes on him, silently asking “you serious right now?” to which he looked amused and shrugged. Bastardo, it’s your skin also being risked here.
“Okay, what do I have to work with here?” Charlie reappeared with a stack of papers and dropped them into my hands. I blinked a couple times, gazing through the words scribbled on the papers. These were lousy attempts at battle plans or any sort of war plans.
“I’ll revise these and have them back to you soon. I do request to have somewhere nearby for me to stay, along with my members. Fifteen minutes away isn’t a good distance, doll.” Observing Charlie’s timid behavior. Lucifer peered behind his daughter, gauging my reaction to everything. I had my work cut out for me but any excuse to be involved in Anthony’s life again was something I was willing to risk everything for.
“Consider it done. Let’s take a stroll so I can show you where it’s at.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and excitedly held his arm out for me to take to walk with him. He was always trying his best to put on a front, but I know he’s still struggling. I mean we still meet and talk about ways for him to mend the broken relationship with Charlie. But, it feels like another negative energy was coming from where my other ally stood. When I turned to Alastor, his eyes were still locked onto my figure, wide and slightly terrifying. The look alone ran a chill down my spine. Why did it feel more exciting than terrifying?
“You coming?” Lucifer glanced backwards towards me, forcing me to peel my eyes away from the enticing ruby set still locked on me. Instead, my eyes met the pale yellow and glowing red set. The tension felt high, pushing me to leave immediately.
“Yeah, of course. Just taking the place in since I’ll be staying here, and potentially dying here.” I laughed sadistically as Lucifer frowned and elbowed me.
“Not funny. There is no way myself, or any of us, will let something happen to you. Unless you get redeemed, too.” He winked trying to sell the confidence he could get me into heaven with my brother. I doubt it, but no harm in trying.
Following down the hall, around back, there was a warehouse building directly behind it. It mirrored the looks of my warehouses that have been distributed in my territories. I could easily move a little over half of my people within this building, comfortably. The smile slowly dragged across my face before I could stop it. Lucifer was smiling back at me, satisfied.
“Che bello…” (How beautiful…) My whole body relaxed, feeling almost unnatural. I didn’t know how to handle how I was feeling at all. All this weight that’s been pushing down on my shoulders just lifted enough for me to breathe, to relax. No one has ever done something this tremendous for me. I could feel tears brimming my eyes, ripping me out of that relaxed feeling. Instead, it was replaced with a sense of dread and need to feel that relaxed again. Lucifer was smiling softly, hand snaked around my waist as he waited.
“You want to go see the inside, (Y/n).” A small smile remained as I allowed his arm to remain, feeling natural and familiar, but so wrong.
“We can’t keep doing this, Angel. We both know that!” Lucifer was having one of his episodes again. The thoughts of Lilith coming back any second, just to see him fucking some other girl and actually leave him type of thoughts. Not that I could ever understand what he’s going through and show sympathy, but rather I’m getting tired of fixing what I didn’t break.
“Listen, Luci, I know.” He stopped. In the poorly lit room, I could see his eyes glowing and a faint outline of his body shape standing on the opposite side of the bed. He knows what’s coming.
“What do you mean?” His eyes pierced mine. A hard stare swimming with all sorts of emotions. Panic was in the center of the tornado.
“Luci, we can’t keep having the same conversation every other day.” I sighed as he remained frozen in fear. One wrong move and I can destroy everything.
“I know you still love her. Nothing could ever change that. You have spent all of eternity together, created a beautiful daughter, ruled over hell. It’s not something you can just fix in seven years, and I never expected you to.” His eye twitched as his black hands started to curl in, making fists. I watched carefully how his breathing was now heavier. I didn’t want to make a bigger mess but I can’t mindlessly try and heal him again, no matter how badly I wanted to.
“What I did expect was some sort of progress to prove that you were learning to let go and love me.” It felt selfish how I was wording it, but my own abandonment issues were strangling me. It hurt to breathe and my vision was blurring. He huffed out, about to deny everything I’m saying.
“I know you love me, but not as much as Lilith.” My eyes froze on Lucifer in panic. Merda. (Shit.) I said her name.
“Don’t you ever say her name. Especially not like that. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have disappeared, abandoned me or Charlie. You don’t know anything.” I knew he didn’t mean it at the moment but my mom taught me one thing, never let a man tell you twice he doesn’t want you.
“It’s over, Lucifer.” I moved slowly to the door, refusing to turn my back to him and his eerie glowing eyes in the dark room, shutting the door quietly and carefully behind me.
During my walk back, it felt like a walk of shame. Opening and closing my door as quietly as possible to my office, sliding my back down the door. There is where I sobbed for hours, grieving a relationship where I actually felt loved, relaxed, and free from the impact my father has held on me all my life. This is where I vowed to never allow myself to get emotionally attached again.
(As always, the characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over! I love to hear feedback! I will also gladly try to write things for my supporters! I have put a LOT of research and planning into this series! I also researched Italian to try and make it as real as possible! Thank you for the love and I hope y’all have a great day! <3 :)!)
Tag List:
@pooka167 @serenity-songbird @readergirlstuff @nishayuro @lovingyeet @genderlessdude92 @slytherin4ever @random-3455 @mo-0-o @lucifers-silhouette @sadnessiscoldtea @idonthaveanameforthisacc @marxo5 @emonerdwinchester @macehysteria @tsukiko26
Tagged who I could, some it wouldn’t allow :(
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turcott3 · 1 day
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First of all thank you for the Rempe content
Second of all, I’ve been thinking about this:
You’ve been dating Matt since just after he got to Seattle. You’re openly aware of his fighting and you don’t mind it but once he gets to the NHL you can’t help but let the media and the backlash get to you about Matt fighting. When he gets ejected from a game on a match penalty, you find yourself going down to see him, clearly upset and trying to drill into it him that he doesn’t have to fight all these people, he has nothing to prove. He doesn’t see it that way and you two go back and forth for a little while. He turns to you and says ‘this is who I am. I am working on it, I ask you to accept that’ or something like that and then you have to accept that his fighting is a thing but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it still. So now every time he gets in a fight he brings you flowers and chocolate after the game
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kisses
matt rempe x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, mild arguing, fluff, kisses
masterlist
-
“matthew rempe.” you yell busting open the door.
“jesus you scared me.” he jumps, giggling.
“what have i fucking told you matt.” you say sternly as the boy sits down in front of you.
“what?” he shrugs.
“matt please for the love of god stop all this fighting crap. i mean it.” you press, tears welling up in your eyes.
“it’s fun, i never mean any harm by it.” he replies.
“matt, i know. but please. just stop. for your own sake and the sake of your health please. it hurts my heart having to stitch you up after every game. please just at least take a break from it, or only fight when it’s necessary. i just wanna see my boys face healthy again.” you say wiping a tear of frustration that fell.
“come here baby.” he says lowly, opening his arms for you to sit on his leg as you brushed his soft hair from his face.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way. i’ll try to dim it down okay? this is just the kind of player i choose to be y/n, and that’s how it is but i promise im gonna try to dial it down for you.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.
“but just know if any guy ever chirps about you they’re dead, okay?” he giggles wiping your tears away gently with his thumb.
“okay.” you smile lightly, finding it hard to ever stay mad at him.
“and i’m sorry for getting ejected again, i know you like staying for the whole game.” he giggles with his chin rested on your shoulder in a hug.
“it’s okay baby. i can’t be mad at being able to have you at home sooner. i always miss you when i can’t come.” you giggle, scratching his scalp with your nails, something he always loved you doing.
“is it bad that i feel that way too.” he says pulling away, locking eyes with you.
“no it just means you love me.” you smile, squishing his cheeks like a baby before he pulls your hand away.
“would you stop that, you know i don’t like it.” he laughs
“well i think it’s funny, and i feel in this moment you deserved it.”
“touché”
-
“matt.” you mumble under your breath as you sat on the couch with a load of emails on your laptop, the game on your tv. of course, another fight. a much more evenly matched one this time. you shut your laptop with anxiety waiting for the final buzzer of the game to sound, eventually dozing off as your mind scrambled at what possible injuries you would have to ice or stitch tonight.
“y/n?” you wake up to the sound of matt’s voice in a low volume, trying not to startle you as his hand rested softly on your leg.
“what, huh? oh my gosh.” you say realizing that you had fallen asleep.
“i got you these.” matt says, revealing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.
“awe matt what is this for?” you ask with your lip pouted, observing the sight in front of you. a beautiful bunch of roses and your beautiful boyfriend.
“for breaking my promise. i’m sorry baby.” he says as you lean over to kiss him on the lips.
“it’s okay my love, you know how hard it is for me to stay mad at you for literally anything. these are beautiful.” you smile lightly at him.
“i had to hand pick them, only the best for my beautiful girl.” he smiles kissing your hand delicately.
“but seriously, promise after tonight, im gonna try to be better.” he swears, setting the objects on the coffee table.
“all i ask is for you to try.” you reply as you stand up, wrapping yourself up in his large frame.
“i’ll think of you out there, every game. every time i get challenged. i swear to god i will.” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses you on top of the head.
“i love you so much.” you say looking up into his deep brown eyes.
“i love you too.” he smiles, leaning down to attach your lips once again.
-
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hughes86-43 · 3 days
Note
Luke Hughes request-
Y/n gets spotted with Luke leaving the last game of the regular season and they get stopped by fans to take photos together
anon you’ve read my mind; i thought about writing something like this all week; thanks for requesting! :)
-
Sadly, tonight was the last game of the regular season for the Devils, and they wouldn’t be going to the playoffs. After the game tonight, you waited for your boyfriend to get done getting dressed and out of the locker room. You and Luke had only been dating for a couple of months now, after deciding that both of you like each other a lot after being friends for years.
You both walked hand in hand to the garage to where his car was. He opened the passenger door for you, gave your thigh squeeze, and round the car to get to his side.
“I think Nico said there was some fans outside, I’m going to stop and sign some things, is that okay?” Luke asks, while buckling his seatbelt.
You give him a smile and a nod, “Of course, I don’t mind.”
He leans over to kiss your cheek, “Okay, I knew you wouldn’t, but I know we’re both ready to go home.”
Once out of the parking garage, he pulls infront of the fans standing outside the arena. Luke rolls down his window and starts engaging with the fans. You take this time to admire that despite how tired he was, he was still willing to sign and talk to them. A few fans noticed you, offering a smile your way or a wave. Most people adored yours and Lukes relationship.
While you respond back to your mom on your phone, you hear someone tell Luke to tell you something. “You better have told Y/N that she is stunning tonight!” Luke blushes as he looks at you, smiles and turns back to the girl. “Of course, I did! Although, she’s always stunning but the jersey she’s wearing adds to it,” Luke replies, still blushing. Tonight, you opted to wear his jersey with black leather pants and converse. You had gotten a ton of compliments on it, especially from Luke who had insisted on a bunch of pictures of it. You were also going to post an end of season photo of you and Luke, that you managed to take with him before the game, on social media later.
As he gets to end of the line of people, someone asks for a photo with Luke, but surprisingly they want you in it too. “Can Y/N get in the photo as well?” The fan asks Luke. He turns to ask you and of course you don’t mind. Luke helps you lean into the photo, a hand on your back to help you. “Perfect, thank you guys so much and enjoy your summer!” The fans says as you wave goodbye to them.
Once everybody has gotten their things signed, Luke pulls out onto on the main highway. Looking over at him, you say, “Can you believe someone wanted me in the photo as well?! My first photo with a fan! I can’t believe it!” As soon as the fan asked if you could be in the photo as well, you had to hide your giddiness of being asked. Again, most fans are nice about your guy’s relationship, and some people can be not so nice about it.
Luke beams at your excitement. “I know! That was so nice,” he says, smiling. “Thank you for not minding that I stop and talk to them.”
You wave him off, “Oh, stop, you know it’s not a big deal!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but still. Can’t believe the season is over, it’s so crazy,” Luke says, eyes focused on the road.
You reach over and grab his hand, rubbing small circles on it. “I know, but you guys did good and now you can relax for a bit.” Luke nods, taking in the comforting words from you.
Later that night, you lay in bed going through social media. The picture of you, Luke, and the fan was swirling all over Twitter. You couldn’t help but to laugh at some of the comments people were saying. From the bathroom, Luke peaks his head out, “What’s so funny?”
You motion him over so he can look, “I was on Twitter and some of these comments people are making about me being in the photo are so funny!”
Luke knows there can be come harsh comments about you from fans, so he braces himself for them, even though you’re laughing. When he looks at your phone, he reads
“Y/N’s boyfriend just finished his rookie year”
“I want a picture with Luke and Y/N now”
“Y/N looks so good, Luke could take a few notes”
“Forget about Luke, I need Y/N”
Luke can’t help but to laugh as well to the comments. “I’m glad that the comments are good, I can’t handle someone else saying something bad about you,” he says, kissing your forehead.
“I know, but hey, I’m taking your spot now, everybody wants me!” You yell as he walks back to the bathroom.
He turns around, “Well, they can’t have you, you’re mine! They can find someone else!” You giggle, turning back to your phone to read more comments. Luke just shakes his head and goes back to the bathroom.
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iluvmattsbeard · 2 days
Text
Wet Dreamz (m.s)
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master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smut and swearing
preview: matt and you were partners for a project. he unexpectedly started having sinful dreams about you, suddenly craving you ever since. one thing nobody knew; he was a virgin.
“y/n, you will be partnered with Matt.” the teacher says trying to grab your attention. “y/n? are you listening?” you snap out of your thoughts and look at him. “huh?” you ask. “you’re partnered with Matt for this project.” he replies with an unamused look. you look around before you look back at him. “who’s that?” you ask.
he lets out a sigh before speaking, “Matt raise your hand.” you look around again as you catch the eyes of a brown haired boy. you weren’t mad about it. he looked decent.
you get up and walk to where he was sitting. “next time y/n, i expect you to be paying attention. this project will effect your grade drastically if you do poorly.” you hear the teacher say looking at you. all you do is nod. you were barely passing the class.
Matt’s POV
i got paired with y/n. she didn’t even know who i was. i knew of her because she would get in trouble constantly due to her lack of focus. as she came to sit next to me, we clicked right away. we both dreaded school, but who doesn’t? as much as i didn’t like school, i still paid attention, unlike her, so i had to explain the whole point of the project to her.
we exchanged numbers after class so that we could talk about when we could meet up to work on it. we only had two weeks to complete it. i knew i had to stand on top of it because i know she won’t.
a few days pass, me and y/n still working on the project together, with us having to meet at lunch. i got to know a little bit more about her. she was pretty cool to talk to. we even started texting without talking about the project itself. so when this is done, it’d be cool to hang with her.
meeting during lunch really wasn’t a good idea. there was too much distractions. so i took the opportunity to invite her over to my place after school. she agreed and i ended up driving her with me once the final bell rang.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in his room as you sat on the floor. you were reading over some information from the website the teacher recommended and you were feeling overwhelmed. “all of this is hurting my head.” you say laying back on the floor. Matt lets out a small laugh as he responds, “me too. i don’t get how this will be beneficial in the future.” you shot up looking at him, “exactly! school is so bullshit to me. they don’t even teach real world shit.” you say sighing. “i agree. but i didn’t put up with almost 12 years of school just to fail.” he says. you groan, “right. it would be wasteful. i’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. my grades are literally on the edge of failing.” “well, i could help you.” he suggests. all you do is let out a laugh, “trust me, teaching me is hard.”
“i’ve been teaching you these past days. trust me i know.” Matt responds as you both let out a laugh. “it’s hot in here.” you say taking off your hoodie, pulling down your shirt as it lifted a bit. Matt looks at you as he catches a glimpse of your cleavage. he looks away quickly, clearing his throat. where has all of that been hiding? he wonders. “well let’s continue working on this.” he says trying to move past it. all you do is nod as you lay on your stomach continuously reading.
when you weren’t paying attention, Matt would stare at you slightly. he would stare at the way your tits were pressed against the floor, thinking how perfect they were.
after a few hours, Matt takes you home. “thank you for the ride.” you say smiling, slinging your backpack on one shoulder. “yeah of course” he replies. you open the door stepping out, but as you get up, your hoodie raises slightly revealing your thong peeking out above your jeans slightly. Matt catches a glimpse turning red. you shut the door and walk away. he sits there in his car for a bit as he gulps before driving away.
Matt arrives home tidying his room before going to bed. he picks up one of his notebooks as he sees a sticky note on it reading, ‘thank you for dealing with me as a partner - Y/N’.
he smiles at the note as he puts it down on his bed side table, getting into bed. as he lays there, he couldn’t help but think about what his eyes caught from you earlier. your cleavage and your thong. he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Matt stop that.” he whispers to himself before shutting his eyes going to sleep.
Matt’s dream POV
you and Matt were sitting on your bed working on the project. Matt wasn’t paying attention to you as much and you were bothered by it. you took matters into your hands and you closed the book he was studying. you got on top of him, sitting on his lap as he gets caught off guard. you pull him into a passionate kiss and next thing you knew, you were under the covers tangled together naked.
End of Matt’s dream
Matt’s POV
i woke up sitting up quickly with my breathing uneven. what was that?! my heart was racing. did i just have a wet dream?!
i pulled up the covers to see a wet stain on top of the crotch of my sweats. what the fuck. this has never happened before. with y/n?! why? because of what i saw yesterday? i never even had sex before. how could i have easily dreamed of it? i gulp before getting up. i head to the bathroom to clean myself. i really can’t believe that just happened. now all i could do is replay it in my head. i groan at the thought.
after i got ready, i headed straight to school. on the drive there, i still couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened in my dream. even if i tried to distract myself, it wouldn’t go away. i needed it bad.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in class as you tried to tell him a story. all he was doing was nodding and staying quiet. “Matt? are you okay?” you question. he shakes his head before speaking, “yeah- yeah i’m good. sorry.” you give him a questionable look as you reply, “well you weren’t really paying attention as i spoke.” you laugh a bit. “oh i was.” he says with a nervous smile. “yeah okay.” you say turning your body straight, pretending to pay attention to the teacher.
Matt does the same as he groans quietly to himself. he didn’t know if he should tell you or not about what he imagined. he decided to shrug it off.
it was the end of the day again as you both end up at Matt’s house. you were standing up as you rehearsed your lines on what to say for the presentation. Matt just sat there looking lost. “Matt seriously what is wrong? i can’t do this without you, you know?” you say frustrated. “i’m sorry. i’ve just been having a hard time.” he responds scratching the back of his neck. “well we really need to focus on this. if you need to get something off your chest, do it now so we can continue.” you say. Matt hesitates before speaking, “okay well i sort of had an odd dream last night.” you look at him confused. “okay?” you reply. “it wasn’t a normal dream.” he continues.
“what? were you like having sex or something?” you ask jokingly with a laugh. but he just sits there staying silent with a blank face. “oh. oh! you did!” you exclaim. “who was it about?” asking with curiosity. “some random girl from class.” he says lying through his teeth. “so what’s the big deal?” you ask. “this your first time having a wet dream?” all he does is nod. you widen your eyes, “really? that’s new. i would’ve thought you were like every other guy constantly thinking about sex.” letting out a laugh. “why is it bothering you so much?”
“because, it’s weird. especially with this specific girl.” he responds. you raise an eyebrow before asking a question, “have you ever had sex before?” the question takes Matt by surprise as he responds quickly, “of course i have!” he lies. you let out a laugh. “okay! sorry! well then you shouldn’t be so weirded out. now come on. lets focus.” replying to him.
it still was eating him in the inside.
*time skip*
after the weeks flew by, you and Matt got an ‘A’ for your presentation. you decided to celebrate by treating Matt with fast food. you both sat on his bed eating. “thank you for being such a good partner.” you say with a smile taking a bite from your burger. “no, thank you.” he replies. you couldn’t help but notice he still was acting strange these past days. “Matt don’t tell me you’re still on about the sex dream.” you ask wiping your hands with a napkin. “you should just shoot your shot already since it’s eating you up. maybe she’ll feel the same.” he shakes his head, “i wouldn’t know how to approach her. plus, that’s weird. i had a sex dream about her and what? i just walk up to her and tell her that? that's creepy.” he replies. you laugh at his response. “well not quite but, i don’t like how you’re acting so off.” you say taking another bite.
Matt sighs as he shakes his head, “just forget it y/n. i’m fine.” you stop in your place as you shake your head. “okay that’s it.” placing the unfinished food on his side table. you wipe your mouth with a napkin as you look at him. it was silent for a bit until you spoke up, “do you want to kiss me?” you blurt out. Matt’s eyes widen. “what?” he asks.
Matt’s POV
i hesitated for a bit. “to help distract you.” she says with a small laugh. "uh- uh yeah sure." I say hesitantly. i mean i couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. i scoot closer to her. i’ve only ever kissed one other person and i don’t think it was good so maybe this will be different. i can hear my heart pounding out of my chest. i put my hand on her cheek as i lean in and kiss her softly. she scoots closer without breaking the kiss, putting her hands on my shoulders.
to her she might think this is just a distraction but, little did she know my dream was about her. we continue to kiss as she swings her leg around to straddle me. i put my hands on her waist as the kisses get heavier. i could feel myself get hard beneath her and i could tell she notices. i pull away from embarrassment, “i’m so sorry.” i say. all she does is smile and respond with, “it’s okay.” pulling me into another kiss. i could feel her start to grind against my clothed dick. i let out a small groan from the feeling. i pull away as i lay her down gently. “d-do you want to do this?” i say nervously but, i couldn’t expose the fact this would be my first. she nods as she kisses me again. she takes off my shirt as i do the same for her. i unbutton my jeans and pull them off leaving me in my boxers as she does the same with her pants leaving her in her under garments. i gulp looking at her body. come on Matt play it cool. we kiss again as she rubs my dick through my boxers. i really hope i’m big enough.
i reach into my drawer as i pull out a condom. i bought a box just in case i were to lose it. which i am now, so it was good preparation. i open rip off the deal as i look at her. “uh.. i haven’t done this in a while so.. i might not be as good.” i warn her lying. i’ve never done this at all. i had to prepare her just in case i cum quick. “it’ll be good” she reassures me. she takes the condom from my hand as i take off my boxers slowly. i see her eyes widen a bit as she slowly wraps the condom on my dick. i lay her back down, sliding her panties to the side, and align myself at her entrance. she gives me a smile as i look down at what i’m about to do. i push myself into her slowly as i watch her relax.
i hear her moan softly as i continue to push my full length into her. “shit.” i groan quietly. i watch her face as i start to thrust slowly. she shut her eyes as she bites her lip softly. i can’t believe this is happening. my dream finally coming true. i pick up the pace as i put both my hands on her sides. “yes just like that.” she moans out putting her hands on my chest. i kiss her as i continue to go deeper into her keeping my fast tempo.
“fuck Matt you feel so good.” she moans. every time she spoke i felt my dick twitch. her moans were heavenly. “you’re so perfect.” i whisper to her. i lay myself on her slightly as she scratches my back. her scratches were hard as i feel the slight sting.
all my worries disappear once i find out i’m actually doing a good job. she made me feel a bit more confident. as soon as i was about to cum i pull out because i wanted to keep pleasing her. i pull her by her thighs as i put my head in between her legs. i start licking at her folds softly as she lets out a breath. i then start sliding my tongue up and down, swirling my tongue on her clit. i felt her grip my hair lightly. “oh Matt.” she moans. “you taste so good.” i say continuing to eat her out. “Matt i’m going to cum.” she says as i start to suck on her clit. she throws her head back as she arches her back, shoving her pussy more into my face. “yes Matt just like that!” she screams out as she cums all over my mouth.
i get back up as i lick my lips, realigning myself as i thrust back into her sensitive core. she gasps as she grips onto my arms. i thrust at a fast pace before cumming inside her into the condom. “oh fuck.” i moan out.
we were both catching our breath as i pull out of her. i take off the condom and throw it in the trash. "you must be a pro or something. that was incredible.” she says sitting up putting her clothes on.
good to know. little did she know, i ain't ever did this before.
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a/n: not my best work lol. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you :) - L 🤍
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seeingivy · 2 days
Text
sweet nothing
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting fic
previous part linked here
songs mentioned: minor mentions of slut by taylor swift, new year's day by taylor swift, end of beginning by djo, turning page by sleeping at last, sweet nothing by taylor swift, and must be love by laufey
--
It feels like every new piece of information that comes your way is overwhelming as the weeks fly by. And really, that sinking feeling that things are coming to an end only feels deeper, more final as the days dwindle down to the end. 
Jean and Mikasa are getting married in two days. Your last day of filming together as a cast is in three. Lana and Sukuna are having another kid and you’re almost positive that Eren is in love with you. 
You have two weeks together before you part ways. 
Every second that the group of you spent together felt like the moments were only slipping out of your fingers, like you were hopelessly trying to hold onto a needle in a stack of hay. It was almost impulsive the way you were trying to linger around everyone – to memorize every last detail of the memories so that you can’t forget them when they leave. 
Falco and Gabi eat cereal in the morning before they go to set, Levi has a mole near his left eye, Eren loses all of his guitar picks. 
You shuffle through the stack of polaroids in your hand – an endless stack of pictures of Miaksa and Jean – and get more frustrated looking down at the empty page on your notebook. Eren’s handwriting is perfectly lined up at the top, light scribbles of lyrics and words he’s changed for the song you were gifting Jean. 
I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?
Eren explained that Jean and Mikasa, after getting engaged (for the second time), took a two month trip where they just traveled together. Most of the pictures are from that time period actually – of Jean and Mikasa drunk in random bars, cheesing in front of billowing green hills, or napping on picnic blankets. 
You look up at the two of them, clearly relieving some wedding stress by getting tipsy, and dancing with Falco and Gabi a few feet away. You can’t help but smile as Mikasa teaches Falco how to dance – and how he profusely apologizes every time he steps on her feet. It’s almost as sweet as Gabi and Jean who are trying to do the most aggressive slow dance known to man and that neither of them seem to be taking seriously in the slightest. 
“Who’s getting injured first?” 
You look to your right to find Eren hovering over your shoulder, his hair damp from the shower and the sweet smell of his soap still emanating off of his skin. He gives you a boyish grin before taking the seat next to you on the couch, leaning his chin on your shoulder as you watch the group of them. 
“I’m sure Mikasa needs a bandaid already. Falco has stepped on her feet ten times already.” 
“Poor guy. I’ve never seen him stress out over something so bad.” Eren states. 
“What do you mean?” 
Eren laughs. 
“He’s freaking out about the wedding. He’s really worried that Gabi won’t enjoy it with him as her date – because he can’t dance and that sometimes he can’t think of things to talk about when he gets nervous.” 
You frown. 
“Baby.” 
“Tell me about it. Last night he was in my room asking my opinions on pick up lines and how you even initiate dancing with someone.” Eren states. 
“What did you tell him?” 
“I told him that he should suggest getting matching tattoos. I know girls love that type of thing.” 
You turn your head to glare at him. 
“I know you didn’t encourage my sixteen year old brother to get a tattoo.” 
Eren shrugs. 
“What’s the difference between sixteen and eighteen? He’s a big kid.” 
“He would get a tattoo of a cat jumping on a trampoline if he could. And that’s horrible advice.” 
Eren grins. 
“Worked on you, didn’t it?” 
You shove him in the side, earning you a laugh from him, as he takes the opportunity to peek down at the page – mainly at the fact that you haven't been able to write anything. You sink back into the couch as he offers you a smile, before flipping through the rest of the pages. 
“I have a question.” 
“What is it?”
“Are you ever going to release any of these songs? I really think some of them are great.” 
You lean over his shoulder to follow his line of vision, to all of the songs that you had produced out of the requests that you had been given. You eye the song he’s fixated on – called Slut, that you wrote for Sasha – as you shrug. 
“I do really like some of them.” you offer. 
“I really love this one. I think it’s perfect. And a lot of them are.” Eren adds. 
You lean back on the couch. 
“I know that…things are ending. And I have to think seriously about what I want to do after I leave here but sometimes it gets complicated when I think about it. But I am sure that...that I'll do something. In some capacity.” you state. 
Eren leans back to join you, leaning his damp locks against your shoulder. You mimic his motions, leaning your cheek against his hair and welcoming the cold touch.
“I like being here and…and being here makes the songs and the acting really easy. I feel like I have that support system, of people who care about me, who can kind of help me push through it. The thought of having to figure out things without people helping me when I leave here and…and not having that makes it seem impossible.” you state. 
“You don’t need other people to –” 
“I know I don’t need other people to do this, that I can write songs and act if I need to. But, I need them for me. I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I realized I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be here forever, I’ve…I feel like I barely appreciated the time I had here and now it’s almost over and I can’t do anything about it.” 
It’s horrible timing. That the song in Connie’s playlist switches. 
There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but 
You both sink deeper into the couch, cheeks pink as the song stops the conversation in full. You can feel that the group of them are all averting their eyes to where you and Eren are sitting, though none of them seem to comment on the fact that your love ballad is booming from the speakers. You turn to Eren and offer him a smile, one that he returns before nervously fiddling with his hair. 
“You still have time left here. You can make the most of it. And even after we leave here, we’re all still backing you up. It might not be all of us all in the same place but…but we’re here when you need us.” Eren states. 
“Yeah. I know that. But it’s just different.”
You pause, unable to put the garbled mess of feelings that’s rumbling in your chest into words. 
Three days ago Levi told you that they were going to put the house up for sale when you were leaving – and the thought of never being able to come back here, that someone else would be sleeping in your room and you’d never be able to return to it made you sick to your stomach. 
You had read the last bits of the script and it was perfect – except for the blank portions that Levi left in one of the sections. He had mentioned that he wanted you and Eren to do something similar to what you were going to do for the “what am I to you scene?” where he was going to ask you to improv whatever he had planned. 
There was a sense of urgency when he mentioned it, because that was actually going to end up being the last scene that you ever filmed. Because Mikasa and Jean were going to get married on Friday, the last day of filming with the entire ensemble was Saturday, and they were all out of there by Sunday night. 
And for the entire week that followed, you, Levi, Hange, and Eren were going to be in the house alone. Hange mentioned it as a sort of gift that Levi wanted to give you – that he wanted to grant the two of you time alone before you parted your separate ways. 
(Apparently he was just sentimental. Or projecting, according to Hange. And part of it was just that he understood because when he had his last weekend of filming La La Land with Hange, he just wanted them all to himself before he had to let them go. That he wanted that for you and Eren or just for himself instead.) 
The thought of being alone with Eren in the house, the way you were when you started filming all those years ago, made your stomach churn with anticipation. Only because you knew – that if something was going to blossom between you and Eren, if you were able to let go of whatever it was that was holding either of you back – it was going to be then. 
Or at the wedding. 
You had visited the venue with Eren a few days prior and the outdoor, woodsy venue that Jean and Mikasa had picked out was eerily similar to where Levi and Hange had their vow renewal. They were leaning into the same energy – of a backyard wedding, with all of their closest friends – and you were half convinced that the setting alone would have you word vomiting everything to Eren. 
Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day 
Eren reaches forward, placing his hand on top of your head, before he slightly rattles your head. 
“Okay, that’s enough being emo for today. Quit being sad and focus on writing the song. Jean is expecting something really great, you know?” 
You groan. 
“Don’t tell me that. I hyped it up so much to him just because he was being annoying but I’m really scared that he won’t like it. Every lyric I write is so ridiculously idiotic that I end up wanting to throw my entire book away.” 
“You’re trying too hard. Just do what feels natural.” 
You’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but right after it does it fills you with a bout of embarrassment. Because if you did what was natural, you’d lean forward and close the space between the two of you, only because you couldn’t help but feel like you were getting intoxicated by how much you wanted him every time you were alone like this. 
But that was just the thing. You weren’t alone. There were at least seven different people in the room. And the fact that it felt so intimate, so bare every time you talked to him like you were the only two people in the room made it impossible to be around him. 
Levi walks into the room with Hange, the two of them juggling cardboard boxes in their hands. Levi nearly drops all of them when Gabi and Jean almost salsa dance straight into him, but luckily enough, Niccolo is able to steer them in a different direction before they can. 
Hange and Levi set the boxes down at the center table, before gesturing for all of you to join them around the table. Eren holds a hand out to you – and it makes your stomach churn when he doesn’t let go as you both walk all the way to the table. 
You can’t help but focus on it. That you’re all circled around the table, that Niccolo is handing Sasha his water bottle, that Falco and Gabi are out of breath, and that Eren has his hand tucked into yours as he intently waits for Levi and Hange to explain. 
“As you guys all know, we’re going to be giving up the house in around a week. I know it feels a little early, but we need to start making preparations since things are going to start wrapping up really fast.” Levi states. 
“And this part is only logical. You guys were the ones who put the polaroids up. It’s only fair that you’re the ones who are going to take them down.” Hange adds. 
You feel your throat dry. 
“What?” Armin asks.  
“We can’t exactly leave them all up. Imagine how horrifying that would be for whoever moved in here after – just thousands of pictures of strangers that they didn’t know.” Levi states. 
“They would be so lucky. We’re literally famous.” Connie huffs. 
“Okay, Connie. Relax. Even then, I figured that you guys would want to keep some as you guys got ready to leave here. We can toss whatever it is you don’t want to keep.” Hange resopnds. 
It just keeps getting worse. You can’t even stomach the fact that they would even consider throwing any of the pictures away, let alone being so ready to pull them all off of their respective spots on the wall. 
“Are you insane? You can’t just throw our childhood away.” Reiner states. 
“Well, you can keep all of the stragglers. Drown in the polaroids in your penthouse apartment, Reiner.” Levi deadpans. 
“Oh, I plan on it.” Reiner responds, glaring at the two of them. 
You can tell that Levi and Hange were well prepared for the pushback. And you understand the frustrations, or at least the panic, everyone seems to be expressing. Armin’s trying to delay whatever this is to the best of his abilities – saying that the wedding pictures would be perfect with all of the polaroids in the background. Reiner said that taking everything down was only fair when Eren got to be a part of the death wall, and Sasha and Mikasa are already fighting over how they’re supposed to divvy up polaroids that we’re all in. 
And you get it, but all it does is fill you with the sinking pit of despair. 
This was the start. Taking all of the pictures down, wrapping your childhood into a little cardboard box and never returning to it again – at least not in the same way. 
The song from the playlist switches, finally mellowing out the ends of your voice, before changing to a different song. 
Levi’s ears immediately perk up at the sound of his own voice, booming through the speakers. 
Just one more tear to cry One teardrop from my eye You better save it for The middle of the night
When things aren't black and white Enter, Troubadour Remember twenty-four?
And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning
“Who is playing this?” Levi asks. 
“Connie.” Eren offers. 
Levi shakes his head, almost like it’s thrown him a distraction, before he hands each of you the boxes and a marker. You all start begrudgingly inking your name into the cardboard, before halfheartedly clutching it to your chests. A few of them make the first move, until it’s just you and Armin left lingering in the kitchen, unable to move. 
“Jesus fuck, Hange. Why would he play this song?” Levi whispers, stuck in a conversation under his breath with Hange. 
“The timing is uncanny. Don’t go crying on them now.” Hange states. 
The two of them shuffle out of the room as you turn to Armin, noting the warm tears that are filling his eyes, as you offer him one of your hands. He opts to link his hand through yours, as you both task yourself with walking over to the fridge first, as you stare at all six of the polaroids stuck under the magnet. 
“I really don’t want to do this.” Armin whispers. 
“Me neither.” 
He snags the first polaroid off of the fridge, of Erwin wearing a sparkly pink apron with Kiss the Chef embroidered into the front pocket. You distinctly remember when Eren had gifted it to Erwin for his birthday – and how he refused to stand in the kitchen without wearing it, even if he wasn’t cooking anything. 
“This picture doesn’t belong anywhere but here.” Armin states. 
You snort. You can see that Armin hesitates, but he settles for putting it in the box. 
“We’ll make a pile on the main table, of who is in each picture. Then…then people can fight it out for who gets to keep which one.” 
“Good idea.” 
It’s quiet, leave for Levi’s voice booming through the speakers, as you and Armin start yanking the pictures off of the wall. The wallpaper has been fading for years, but it’s only more obvious when you start ripping the pictures out to see the brighter color that was covered underneath. 
Armin stops you every few seconds, only to pull on your arm to show you a picture. It’s quiet smiles that you give each other, when you find one of him and Annie, or he gives you one of Hange, and it makes it the slightest bit easier. 
But some of the memories hit you like a bullet train, only because you can’t fathom how much of them you’ve actually forgotten. You only remembered that Falco and Colt had actually been to set before, years before they were even on the show, when Eren flew them out to surprise you for your birthday. Or that on that same day, Mikasa and Armin were the ones to gift you the first notebook that you had ever scribbled your lyrics in. 
They were so deeply intertwined in the memories – every single one. You suppose that’s probably why it was the hardest to let go, to walk away from all of them and limit them to just being pictures in a box. 
And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning (Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)
“Armin.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Do you ever think about that night? In Seattle?” you ask. 
He pauses, abandoning the polaroid fixed in his fingers – of you and Historia cheek to cheek – as he sinks against the wall and sits on the floor. You join him on the ground, looping in your arm through his, as you lean your head against his shoulder. 
“Sometimes.” 
“Me too.” 
“I try to pinpoint moments where it feels like things changed. And there are lots of them, but I do find myself always going back to that one. Things felt so weird and out of line in the months before that, I felt like we were all moving in different directions, and that really solidified it.” Armin states. 
You pause. 
“Yeah, yeah I agree. Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. But I also don’t.” 
“What do you mean?” Armin asks. 
“My first instinct when Eren and I started fighting was to ask him to tell the truth, to come with us and that we’d fix everything. Knowing what I know now, I wish that I had fought harder – that I trusted my gut more because I could clearly feel that something was wrong. But I also don’t, because sometimes I think the way things played out is how it needed to be, for me to feel how I am right now.” you state. 
“How do you feel now?” 
You pause. 
“I remember when we took Connie home with us and…and he started screaming at us. I felt really hopeless. I feel like watching him act like that, to be struggling so much, really sank me into that pit I was in. But I guess, I don’t know. Maybe I needed to see that and how he is now, to see how Sukuna was and how he is now, and Lana too to know that maybe there’s some way out of it for me too after I leave here.” you state. 
Armin smiles. 
“I’m really happy for Lana and Sukuna.” 
You grin. 
“I’m really happy for Connie too. And Eren and…and us too. So much has happened that I really can't even wrap my mind around everything that has happened, but sometimes all I’m left with is that I feel really grateful that we’re all here right now. Especially you and me. Sometimes I forget that you and I faced the worst of it together and…and that we’re here right now, the way that we are, just kind of…fixes it all in my mind.” 
“I agree. I feel like we saw the worst of it together, maybe acted at our worst together too, but it makes me feel better that we both came out of it the way that we did. I feel like we never learn and even though we burn bridges, we still ended up doing what was right at the end of the day.” Armin adds. 
Armin smiles, as he pushes up off the ground and holds out his hand to you. He pulls you up, averting his eyes to behind you, before you turn to find Annie and Eren standing behind. He gives you a knowing look before he switches places with Eren – and the two of them stalk off together. 
Eren gives you a smile, before aggressively sticking a polaroid in your face. You’re caught off guard by the suddenness, before you focus on the picture. It’s of you and Eren on the last day of filming Season Three – your arms wrapped around his neck as you both smile in the camera. 
“Yours or mine?” he asks. 
“Mine.” 
“Well, you should get a move on. I’ve already stolen whatever pictures there were on the wall near the bay window.” 
“No debate? No negotiating?” you ask. 
“Absolutely not. You snooze, you lose.” 
You and Eren fall into a quiet pace, the same way you were with Armin. It seems like it’s something everyone was adapting, because the house felt quieter as usual as you all pulled the memories off of the walls. 
He’d stop here and there and place a polaroid into the palm of your hand. It was getting almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, making that melancholy that seemed to reside in your chest almost impossible to breathe through. 
It was like watching yourself fall in love with Eren all over again.
Because all you can think about is the fact that you had really liked Eren at that award’s show, that you went on a date before that press event, that filming that scene was really fun because you had spent the entire day together. 
That you used to sleep in the same bed every night, that you made breakfast together every morning, that the safe confines of this little wooden house was the place that you and Eren got to be yourselves, where your love was saved from being touched and garbled by other people. 
“Eren.” 
“Yeah?” 
“What are you going to do with the pictures?” you ask. 
Eren pauses, eyeing the messy mess of pictures in his box, before he looks back up at you. 
“I’m staying at this place by the sea, in Ireland, for a few months after the show ends. It’s my parent’s cabin, but I just want to go there and take a break before I jump into anything again. I’ll put some of the pictures up there.” he states. 
You nod. 
You’re not sure why you ask the question, and it’s almost instant embarrassment when it comes out, but you have to stick with it after you do. 
“Will you tell other girls about who I am?” 
“What?” 
You bite your tongue. 
“I just mean. If people point to the pictures and stuff, you’ll tell them about us, right? All the pretty girls you’re going to take to your fancy cabin?” you joke. 
Eren seems to visibly relax when he figures that this has to be some weird idea of a joke that you’re making. 
“Oh. Yeah, of course. Trust me, when I take my children to that cabin, I’ll make sure they know the entire story before they leave.” 
You smile. 
“And what’s that?” 
“Oh, you know. That it was a moment in time, what you and I had. That people went crazy for it, that…that you and I did too.” Eren states. 
“Who said I went crazy for it?” 
Eren rolls his eyes. 
“You have not one, but two matching tattoos with me. We’ve written so many songs about each other, that people still listen to.” 
“I was just teasing. Relax.” 
Eren hands you a polaroid – a solo picture that he had taken of you at Hange and Levi’s vow renewal – that you tuck into your box. The walls are bare and empty as you peek your head through the other rooms. And you all group back together in the main room, boxes filled on the ground as you find too many of them locking their limbs together and swaying together in the air. 
You and Eren smile at each other as Reiner catches sight of you and makes a dramatic display of wrapping both of his arms around you. Jean and Mikasa follow next – somehow producing shots for everyone out of thin air. 
The only notable thing that stands out is that Connie’s standing by the far wall, stuck staring at the wallpaper. Normally, you’d expect him to be at the center of this, making some extreme, dramatic speech on top of the table about how we were all going down in history. 
You tangle out of Mikasa’s embrace to walk up next to him, only to feel your stomach churn when you find exactly what it is that Connie’s staring at. Because it’s not a blank patch of wallpaper – but instead, his shitty spelling marked into the wall, accompanied by the one polaroid you had seemingly forgotten all about. 
Of Marco, his tub of ice cream, and his bright smile when you had all inducted him as the start of the death wall. You look to your left to find Connie crying, as you lean your head against his shoulder, unable to stop your own. 
“I can’t take it down. He…he’s going to miss the wedding.” he whispers. 
It makes your stomach ache. That Marco won’t be there to see Jean and Mikasa get married, that he won't be at the wrap party, and that someone will have to come over here and rip him off of the wall for good. 
“I can’t do it either.” 
Eren’s the next to join the two of you, his arms warm around your shoulders, before you feel him physically tense at your side when he realizes. The crowd only seems to get bigger, until the entire group of you are standing there, limbs tangled in together as you all stare at the picture of him.
Levi and Hange, who are the last to join, are the first to break the silence. 
“No one can do it, can they?” Hange asks. 
You all shake your heads. Levi makes his way to the front – and you can’t help but study him as you watch him observe the picture. 
It was no secret to you that Levi had a soft spot for Marco, that it only intensified after he died, and that it was something that Levi was going to beat himself over forever.
You think about it often – that one time that Levi insinuated that what happened could be traced back to him, because Marco’s fame could be traced back to when Levi had cast him in the show. That if Levi didn't make Marco famous, the paparazzi would have called the ambulance instead of prioritizing the photo.
When he reaches for the picture, you realize that you can’t let him do it alone. 
You walk up to his side and pull on his arm. 
“Together.” you state. 
Levi gives you wide eyes, heaving a deep sign out, before he nods. You turn back to the crowd of them standing, as you gesture for them to join. 
You all place your hands on each other, making it literally impossible for you to all stand there as you try to jump and duck under each other to secure your hands on the picture. It’s all giggles because Connie asks Reiner not to touch his butt and they start bickering before you all pull. 
But on the count of three, you all pull it off of the wallpaper, before letting go. It’s left in Levi’s hands at the end of it. 
You all let him keep it. He shoots you a grateful smile for the assistance.
--
The air is palpable the morning of the wedding. You can feel it thrumming under your skin – the anticipation – the second you spring your eyes open. It reminded you of how you used to sleep the night before a field trip, unable to contain your excitement to the point where you were unable to quiet your mind before sleeping. 
You nearly shoot up because of it, unable to stop staring at Mikasa at your side. Her hair is tousled around the pillow, the sleep mask that she put on last night sticking to the side of her face, and she’s snoring horrendously loud. 
In your excitement, you lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. 
“Jean?” 
You snort. 
“No. Don’t insult me in the early hours of the morning.” you state. 
Your voice is enough to wake Mikasa up, and similarly enough to you, she shoots up the second she’s regained consciousness. The green mask is falling off the right side of her face and her eyes are so horrendously wide that she almost looks like an alien. 
“Holy shit. “
“What?” 
“I’m getting married today.” 
You can’t help but smile from ear to ear as you wrap your arms around her neck and squeeze hard. It’s a mix of giggles, of the two of you squealing like you were fifteen again, and of you and Mikasa tickling each other in your hug.
The morning goes by relatively slowly. 
Whatever that feeling is, the warm, sweetness in the air – it’s hanging in the air. The group of you are all holed up in Mikasa’s room – Gabi, Falco, Connie, Historia, Armin, and Sasha. The rest of them were all stuck with Jean. You can already anticipate that there’s more panic and high energy in that room just from the sheer fact of Ymir being stuck with Reiner, Eren, and Jean in there alone. 
You were all in charge of getting Mikasa ready, of getting dressed yourselves, and getting her to the venue. They had to do the same with Jean – but you and Eren had to be there before to pass out the corsages and pin the boutonnieres. 
There was a slight panic in the background, but the calmness was making it taper into almost nothing. And really, the entire ordeal felt so homey, so ordinary that you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling as you all went about it, because you had been thinking – planning for it – for so long. 
Connie and Sasha tasked themselves with making iced coffee, Falco and Gabi had spent twenty minutes tracking down the Doordash order with the breakfast, and you were left alone to do Mikasa’s hair. 
It was just the two of you, humming in the bathroom to the quiet little playlist Jean had sent Mikasa as a gift this morning, as you quietly tasked yourself with doing her hair. It was relatively simple, just two braids at the front to tuck behind her ears, with little flowers intertwined in between. The veil was going to take up most of the space in the back, so you were just curling the ends for her. 
It’s quiet until you can hear her sniffling, only to look up in the mirror to her trying to blot her tears away from her eyes. You try to focus on the song that’s playing – only to find that Jean had put invisible string in the playlist – and you can’t help but smile. You pause, placing your hands on her shoulders as you squeeze hard. 
“Oh god. Are you getting cold feet because he’s ugly?” you joke. 
She glares at you. 
“Fuck off.” 
You laugh before tucking wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your chin on her shoulder. She gives you a smile in the mirror – one that you return – as she finishes wiping her tears away. 
“Now really. What is it? You can’t be sad on your wedding day or else I’ve failed as a maid of honor.” 
She shakes her head. 
“Not sad. Just…I don’t know. I was reflecting. Feeling really introspective about a lot of things and I realized that there was a point that I thought this would never happen for me. And god, I’m so fucking happy it is.” Mikasa states. 
“This meaning…?” 
“You. Braiding my hair for my wedding. Jean. Actually marrying me after everything that happened. Getting to leave here with him.” 
You swallow hard. She turns around, placing her hands on your shoulder. You distract yourself by messing with how the ends of her bangs were falling, brushing them into place before you give her a smile. 
“Thanks for coming back. I would never want to do this without you.” she states. 
“Thanks for letting me. It would be agonizing to watch this from the sidelines.” 
She leans forward and hugs you, so hard that she’s leaning her entire weight on you. And every inclination that you made of letting go gets ignored, because Mikasa holds on to you for a long time. 
“You’re my best friend.” she mumbles. 
You can feel the tears accumulating in your own eyes, the sniffling coming from your nose this time, as you hear Mikasa spare a quiet laugh. 
“Seriously?” 
“I just started getting all fucking…introspective like you were. I’ve spent my entire life here, my entire childhood sleeping next to you and when I wasn’t, it was because Jean was in here. And now you’re getting married to him and I’m going to be right next to you when it happens, and I just…” 
You pause. 
“I don’t remember when we grew up. I’m glad I got to do it with the both of you.” you finish.
You try to etch it into your memory – this moment – so you can remember it forever. The two of you in your pajamas, barefoot on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, breathing in tandem as you held each other while crying. 
She was hours away from being a wife. You were about to watch Jean and Mikasa get the perfect ending, that the nights that they spent together in your room all led to the two of them standing on that altar, exchanging vows. You would be two feet away from Eren, who was going to smile at you with his perfect green eyes and make your stomach do a somersault. 
You were going to hold hands, he was going to dance with you, and that might be the end of it. Or the start, if you’re both able to muster and get over that block that was always stuck in your throats. 
Connie and Sasha return with the coffee soon enough and Falco and Gabi with the food. You all sit in a circle, sharing bites and switching drinks, until Sasha locks herself and Mikasa in the bathroom to do her makeup and fit her into her dress. 
You take the free second to sit at the vanity, using the sweet free time to style Falco’s hair for him before you do your own makeup. You can see Connie brushing Gabi’s hair through the mirror, intently focused as he holds the bobbi pins in between his lips, and gathers her hair together at the back of her neck. You can’t help but smile as you focus back on Falco, trying to tame the unruliness of his hair with the mousse. 
“Be careful with Eren’s cufflinks today, Falco. He’s expecting those back.” you state. 
“No, he isn’t. He gave them to me earlier and he actually said that he wants me to keep them.” 
It makes your heart sink a little – only because you don’t know what it means. If he was giving it up to Falco out of good will because he was your little brother and he loved him or because he wanted to get them straight off of his hands since you two were going to be leaving and parting ways soon. 
“Well, be careful. They’re very nice. And they’re special too, so just. Take care.” you state. 
Falco frowns at you through the mirror, before turning back to look at you. 
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” 
“You seem sad.” 
“No. I just feel really sentimental. My best friend is getting married and we…we’re all going to be leaving soon. I’m watching two people who have been in love forever seal the deal before I won’t ever live with them ever again.” 
Falco frowns, before he reaches forward and wraps his arms around you. You can’t help but smile as you bury your nose into his shirt, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and laundry detergent mixed together. 
“You’ll have a lot of fun today. You’ll have Eren with you. And you’re performing your song, which will be amazing. Levi also told me that you have to save a dance from him and Connie said he’s going to mix drinks after the reception, so you have a lot to look forward to.” 
You glare at him. 
“The only thing you’re mixing is soda, Falco.” 
He gives you a grin. 
“Right!” 
“I’m going to tell mom.” 
He glares. 
“Don’t be a narc. I was trying to be nice to you.” 
“You’re going to get liver disease, Falco.” 
“Gabi and I have never tried it. We just wanted to do it together.” 
You pinch your lips together, before shaking your head. 
“I’ll just pretend like I didn’t hear that.” 
You watch as Falco’s eyes light up, before he presses a wet kiss to your cheek. You push him off, as you finish the last touches on his hair, and lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 
Falco runs off, mainly to Gabi’s side as he starts admiring her hair and she does the same to him. And as you quietly start smearing the makeup on your face, Connie takes the seat at your side at the vanity. 
It’s quiet. Mainly because he’s messing with the ends of his own hair and you’re focused on smearing the glitter on your eyelids that you don’t really acknowledge each other. You only break the concentration – and start the conversation – as Connie watches you struggle with your necklace. 
“Yikes. Want help?” 
You smile. 
“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” you state. 
You hand the necklace over to him – and watch the smile spread across his face as he eyes the little Saturn charm – before he signals for you to turn around. The necklace falls perfectly into place before you turn back to him and silently thank him. 
“Eren’s wearing his pin too.” Connie states. 
“He is?” 
“Well, planning on it. I saw him walking around with it downstairs when we were making the coffee.” 
You hum in response, as you place the blush on your cheeks. 
“How did he seem? Is he stressed out?”
“No. He’s pretty zen, considering how batshit he was acting last night when you were running through the checklist.” 
You smile. 
“I just think he’s excited for the wedding. You know how much he loves Jean and Mikasa.” you state. 
Connie smiles at you through the mirror, before leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. It’s a weirdly antagonistic look that he gives you, that you ignore as you rummage through the colors of your lip glosses and lipsticks to find the perfect one. 
“I know how much he loves you.” 
You give him a weary look. 
“You kissed three times. He smiled into the kiss. You used your tongue. We’re not about to play this shitty game.” Connie states. 
“I didn’t say anything.” you state. 
Connie smiles and really, the fact that he was rooting for the two of you so hard, that he approved, only made your excitement to see him later grow tenfold. 
“So you know that he loves you?” Connie asks. 
You swallow hard, before shaking the thought away. 
“Well, of course he does. We’re good friends.” 
Connie gives you a glare and it makes you fold. 
“Just…don’t tell him, okay?” 
“I won’t. But you…you do know, right?” 
You sigh. 
“Yeah. I’m just stuck on how to tell him, when the right time is, if…if he really wants to. I know that he loves me but that…that doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants to give our relationship another try.” 
Connie frowns. 
“He doesn’t know that’s on the table.” Connie states. 
“What do you mean?”
“You know he loves you. He has no idea that you love him too.” 
“There’s no way. It’s…it’s obvious. I’ve given him so many signs.” 
Connie shrugs. 
“Yeah. But he’s insecure. His mind plays tricks on him…and he won’t believe it unless you tell him, explicitly. Some days he says that he thinks you reciprocate and in the next hour, he’s moping in my room about how he’s lost you forever.” 
You deflate and give him a nod, as you secure your hands around one of your tubes of lipstick. Connie shakes his head, before taking it from you and digging through the little pouch himself. 
“No, you can’t wear that.” Connie states. 
“I didn’t realize you were so opinionated about the makeup I wore.” 
“No. Well, yes. But no, no Eren likes it when you wear glossy stuff on your lips.” 
“Why do you know that?”
“He’s down horrendous.” Connie affirms. 
“I’m not picking my makeup look based off of Eren.” 
Connie pauses and gives you a look. You sigh. 
“Okay, fine. Give it.” 
He gives you a bright smile, before handing it over to you. And you smear it over your lips, before taking the open room on the left so slip in your dress and meet Eren downstairs. 
--
You slip into your dress before you meet Eren downstairs, to make sure that everyone gets tucked into the correct cars, with flowers pinned to their jackets and secured around their wrists. You carry the pair of shoes you had chosen – black kitten heels to save your feet from the walking – as you make your way down the stairs. 
You can already see Eren standing in the kitchen, placing the boxes in a line, as you feel the nervousness prickle all over your skin. His hair is pushed back, tucked behind his ears. He’s not wearing his jacket yet, the sleeves of his white collared shirt pulled up to his forearms, and he looks perfect. 
You nervously knock on the frame of the door, as you drop your heels to the ground and join him at his side. 
“Hey. Want my help?” you mumble, feeling the shake in your voice. 
Eren’s fumbling with the plastic box in his hands, his throat bobbing, as he doesn’t respond, until it’s awkwardly been too long. And it’s almost like he’s realized it – that he was staring full on, that he had ignored what you had said – as he shakes his head before looking up at you. 
“Did-did you say something to me?” 
You can’t help but laugh, as you nervously rub at the sides of your biceps. 
“Yeah. I was asking if you wanted help.” 
“Right. Yeah, yeah. I was just making sure that the boxes had everyone’s names on it.” Eren adds. 
You hum in response, as you join him at his side, and eye the little list that he had set in the middle of the counter. You start to eye the little labels, leaving little star marks next to each one you found on the paper, as you try to distract yourself and the burning in the pit of your stomach. 
“You look beautiful.” 
You feel your eyes widen. 
“Huh?”
“I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful, but you…” 
Eren lifts his gaze from the plastic boxes, as he looks over at you, eyes striking and piercing. It sends a shiver down your spine. He places both of his hands on your elbows and you mimic the motion by resting yours against your forearms as you look up at him. 
You watch as his eyes waver – first to your lips, before they drop down to your necklace. He reaches up, twisting the little Saturn charm in between his fingers, before he smiles up at you. 
“Mine is on my jacket.” 
You smile. 
“He has to be there some way, right?” 
He sighs. 
“Yeah.” 
“Speaking of…” 
He looks around the little plastic boxes, before he reaches for one that has your name scribbled over the top. You reach for it, before he pulls back, giving you an offended look. 
“Are you insane?” he asks. 
“What? That’s literally mine.” 
“What kind of guy do you think I am? You’re my date, I obviously have to put it on for you.” Eren states. 
“Oh.” 
Eren smiles.
“Yeah. Oh.” 
Eren opens up the little plastic box, pulling out the little corsage, before fidgeting with the little flowers until they fall perfectly. You hold out your left hand to him and he slides the little ribbon across your wrist, until it’s set in place. 
He lifts your hand and presses your knuckles against his lips, leaving a quiet kiss on your ring finger. It makes your chest burn. 
“Perfect.” he whispers. 
You swallow hard, trying to swallow the dryness in your throat, as you look up at him. 
“Can I do yours?” 
“I don’t have a corsage, sweetheart. Such a shame.” 
You shove him. 
“You know what I meant.” 
He smiles, as he reaches for his coat hanging from the chair. You find the box with his name on it as he pulls his jacket on, adjusting it. You take the little silver pins and the boutonniere as you press it to the lapel. And it’s going well until you poke a little too hard, in the wrong direction. 
“Ow.” 
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Eren.” 
You can feel your hands shaking as you try to pin it properly this time, which only gets worse when you can feel that Eren’s watching you – and that he’s amused by how hard you’re trying not to stab him with the pins. 
“That didn’t actually hurt, Y/N.” 
You place the last pin before you unclench and look back up at him. You take the second to admire the little purple flowers on his coat, before smiling up at him. 
“Perfect!” 
Eren smirks, before he leans forward. He’s so close that you can feel the breath tickling your nose when he talks and the mint in his breath. 
“No kiss for me?” 
“Huh? Did…did you want one?” 
“It’s hardly satisfying when you have to ask for it. You have to offer it to me.” Eren states. 
And you were about to, but that’s right when Jean and Niccolo come tumbling down the stairs, readjusting their collars. You can hear the cars pulling up against the gravel outdoors, as Eren hands both of them their boutonnieres, and they run out the door. 
Everyone tumbles through like a stampede – as you get stuck handing all of them the boxes and get too distracted to hand them all out. You feel your heart burst when Historia realizes that she gets two corsages – since Reiner and Connie are both her dates – and the dramatic display that they both make of kissing her hand and her cheeks when they put them on her has you giggling. 
Levi and Hange are the last ones to leave, until it’s just you and Eren standing in the kitchen, facing each other. 
“Ready?” 
“Yeah. Just have to put my shoes on.” 
Eren gives you a nod, before grabbing them from the side and getting on his knees. His arms move around your leg, exposed from the slit in the side of your dress as he secures the buckles around your ankles. 
“Too tight?” 
You clear your throat. 
He has to know what he’s doing to you. That he can’t just place his head in between your legs like that. 
“No. That’s good.” 
He mimics the motion with the other shoe, fingers featherlike around your ankle, before he looks back up at you. And he holds his hand out to you, circling it around yours as the two of you walk out onto the gravel towards the car. 
--
The four of you are lined up inside, peeking out the window, at Jean standing alone at the altar. You can see groups of people running around the little makeshift aisles – Hange and Levi sharing a drink, Lana with a little baby bump and Teddy tangled around her knees, and Sofia and Ymir admiring the flowers around the aisle. 
“Lana and Sukuna are here. I can’t believe she’s showing already.” you whisper to Eren. 
You watch as Eren’s eyes scan the room, before he catches the sight of the three of them on the left and smiles. 
“Look at Teddy’s suit. He’s fucking adorable.” 
“Sofia and Ymir look fucking amazing.” Connie adds. 
“And Niccolo!” Sasha adds. 
The three of you turn your gaze to her, giving her a side eye, before you all burst out laughing. In the time that you have to wait for Mikasa, Connie somehow produces two popsicles from the little truck outside, one that he hands to you and Eren and the other that he shares with Sasha. 
You consider yourself lucky that Connie chose the blue one for himself and gave you and Eren the lemon, which had a translucent color. Connie later realizes his mistake when his tongue turns blue. 
You look up at Eren, whose eyes are still transfixed at the people lingering around outside. 
“You don’t want any, Eren?” 
He looks over at you, and down at the popsicle, before he wraps his arm around your wrists and uses it to lift the popsicle to his mouth. He takes one bite and gives you a smile, before dropping his featherlike touch from your hand and looking back outside. 
You can’t help but use your other hand to rub the inside of your forearm, where his fingers had just touched yours. 
And you watch everyone with him, the two of you silently standing at the window. Levi keeps getting Hange refills and Reiner and Historia go in the photo booth. Sukuna basically guards Lana like a dog – refusing to leave her side, leaning down every few minutes to whisper in her ear, with what you know is constant questioning of if she’s comfortable or not. 
Connie and Sasha yank on your elbows. The two of you turn your heads only to fall silent at the sight of Mikasa, excitedly smiling at you in her pristine and perfect white dress. 
“Ready to get me married, guys?” she whispers. 
You feel your heart squelch in your chest as you reach forward at the same time as Sasha, the two of you stuck in each of her arms and the fresh scent of her bouquet filling your nose. You can’t help but admire her – the shimmering glitter on her skin, the sparkling accents on her dress, and the veil flowing behind her. 
It’s perfect. 
She lets the two of you go before she gives Connie and Eren a shy smile, and they both rise to the occasion. They make a dramatic display of clutching their chests and it makes your heart sing as you watch Mikasa smile at the praise, at the two of them making it evidently clear that she’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. Connie and Eren both lean down to press a kiss to Mikasa’s cheeks, before you all line up, standing side by side. 
Connie and Sasha stand in front, followed by you and Eren, and then Mikasa alone. You turn to Eren and he offers you a wink, as you feel your nerves bubble as the entrance song stars. 
You can see it from the window – Levi seated at the piano with the microphone in front of him. And on his cue, Sasha and Connie walk out first together. 
I've waited a hundred years But I'd wait a million more for you Nothing prepared me for What the privilege of being yours would do
Eren extends his hand out to you and you wrap yours in with his, as you both walk out into the courtyard. The air is fresh, the sun is dipping into the sunset and making a perfect mix of purple and pink hues, as the little lights hanging from the trees start twinkling. 
You can’t help but squeeze hard on the bouquet as you walk down, nerves tingling. It’s warm in the little courtyard, but only because of how the blood rushes to your cheeks – it nearly hurts to smile this hard. 
You offer Sukuna a wink as you walk past, before you and Eren let each other go at the end of the aisle. You and Eren stop before Jean, before leaning forward to give him a hug. You press a kiss to his cheek, which he smiles brightly at, before you and Eren take your spots opposite to each other at his side. 
If I had only felt the warmth within your touch If I had only seen how you smile when you blush Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough
I would have known what I was living for all along What I've been living for
Levi’s voice is piercing, so warm and full that it makes the tears spark to your eyes. And when everyone rises out of their chairs and Mikasa steps out into the light, you instantly turn your head to the left to look at Jean. 
And surely enough, Jean’s hands are shaking at his sides as the tears start to sprout out of his eyes – as he looks at her glide down and doesn’t break his eye contact once. It’s full blown tears, from both of them, and Mikasa’s basically rushing down the aisle just to get there faster. 
You look past Jean to find Eren watching the two of them, with the brightest smile on his face. 
Your love is my turning page Where only the sweetest words remain Every kiss is a cursive line Every touch is a redefining phrase
When Mikasa makes it to the end, Jean reaches for her hand and pulls her up. You take the little bouquet from her hands, and she gives you a wink in response, before turning back to Jean and locking her hands in with his. 
I surrender who I've been for who you are For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart If I had only felt how it feels to be yours Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along What I've been living for
Levi finishes the end of his song with a dancing melody on the piano, before everyone takes a seat and they start the ceremony. 
You and Eren stare at each other the entire time. 
--
The reception afterwards is cast in silver moonlight. There’s a live jazz band, a little dance floor, and obviously an open bar. It’s a rush to make sure that Mikasa and Jean aren’t entirely shit faced by the time you’re able to perform your song and keeping them away from the bar before that happens turns out to be a horrendous task. 
But surely enough, you and Eren are standing by the piano as you wait for Levi to announce the first dance. You turn to Eren, looking up at him, as you watch Levi make his way over to the microphone. 
“Nervous?” 
Eren shakes his head. 
“Have you with me. We’ll be fine.” 
You give him a nod as you absentmindedly tangle your hand in with his at your sides, that he welcomes. And when Levi announces that it’s time for the first dance, Mikasa and Jean make their way to the center of the dance floor, the two of them blowing you a kiss as you take your seat at the piano. 
The second they look away, too entranced with looking at each other, Eren slides into the bench at your side and the two of you start playing the piano together. It’s only when Eren starts singing the first verse that they look back, at the two of you sitting there together. 
Eren:  I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?
You look up from the piano keys to find Jean looking at you – smiling so brightly as the tears stream from his eyes – with Mikasa in his hands. You give him a wink, as you watch him turn his head away, his tears only increasing when he looks down at Mikasa. 
Eren and Y/N:  They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
Y/N:  On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time
You can’t help but turn to your left to look at Eren, only to find that he’s already looking at you first. He tangles his foot in with yours under the piano as your fingers brush against each other and you can feel it – the softness enveloping you and Eren, that the feeling of being around him makes your skin tickle whenever he looks at you. 
Y/N:  Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
You and Eren turn your heads back to the dance floor to watch as everyone joins Jean and Mikasa on the dance floor, hands locked together as they all smile at each other. Connie, Reiner, and Historia are trying some weird three way version of slow dance that has all of them laughing, and Hange and Levi are stuck in some deep conversation that they are whispering in each other’s ears. 
Falco and Gabi are so tense that it almost looks painful, but the smiles on their faces don’t indicate that they’re aware of how rigid they’re both being. And Ymir presses a kiss to Sofia’s cheek, which makes her laugh. 
Eren and Y/N:  They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming) Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something) I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving) You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming) All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
You and Eren turn to your left to give the jazz band a thumbs up, as they take over on the music and start playing soft violin music so everyone can keep going. And you turn back to your right towards Eren and lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck. 
And when you pull back, you secure one of his hands around his cheek and absentmindedly rub your thumb against his bottom lip. 
“Think it went well?” Eren whispers. 
You shrug. Eren smiles back, before mimicking your shrug in response. 
You can feel the breath leave your lungs as you feel a pair of two arms around you, only to find Jean and Mikasa strangling you and Eren from behind the piano. The two of you stand up, to hug the two of them openly, as they smile down at you. Mikasa seems to break off to talk to Eren, because Jean pulls you to the side. 
“Y/N.” 
“Just to be clear, that was your gift. And if you hate it, that’s too bad because I –” 
You’re cut off by Jean pressing a kiss to your cheek, before he envelopes you in a hug so hard that you can barely breathe. Jean lets go after a few minutes, his hand warm on your face as he smiles down at you. 
“I loved it. That was the song of my dreams.” 
You can’t help but grin at him. 
“You deserve nothing less, Jean. I…I’m really happy for you. Just take care of my girl, okay?” 
“That’s a promise.” he affirms. 
You’re joined by Eren and Mikasa at your sides and you can tell from the pink mark on Eren’s cheek that Mikasa was feeling just as sappy as Jean was. You reach forward and wipe the mark away from his cheek, as you look at the two of them. 
“I owe Mika a dance and then Gabi. I’m all yours after that, Y/N.” Eren says. 
You smile, before you wave him off. 
“Go ahead.” 
You take your seat back at the piano bench, as you collect the sheet music and the lyrics and tuck them into the little cabinet of the piano. You sit there for some time – watching Eren and Mikasa giggle on the dance floor before he switches with Gabi who can’t stop blushing. 
That’s until you’re joined by Levi at your side, who offers you a flute of champagne. You take it from him, as you tuck your arm into his, leaning your head against his shoulder. 
“Your song was beautiful, Levi.” you murmur. 
“Yours was too.” he responds. 
You both watch the room in silence for some time, at how animated and lively it all was. Teddy was falling asleep against Sukuna’s shoulder, but him and Lana were caught in a deep conversation – soft smiles on both of their faces as they talked under their breaths at their table. 
“I want to talk to you about something.” Levi states. 
“Go ahead.” 
Levi clears his throat. 
“I…I hear that my vow renewal all those years ago meant a lot to you. Eren and I were talking about it.” 
“Oh. Yeah, what about it?” 
“I want to know what it meant.” Levi clarifies. 
You lean back as you think about it – about the love in the room – and turn back to him. 
“That night was the first time that Eren and I said we loved each other. That…that was the last time before things went so horribly wrong. Because we sat on the bench and talked about the love in the room, about how it was between us.” 
You can feel your throat drying. 
“After that, I got so busy. I started working too hard. He got stuck on Satellite Port, he…he was around people we hated and there were just so many things that came between us. I let go but then he did too. I had him for a second and then he was gone for good.” 
You look back out at him, posing for a picture with Gabi encased in his arms. 
“I saw you and Hange that day and all I could think about was how in love you guys were. About how I knew love was real, because you guys had it. That…that was what I was going to strive for, what I still do strive for at the end of the day. You guys are perfect, you’re THE love story for me and…you always have been.” 
Levi sighs. 
“Can I say one thing to you?” Levi asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“You have a tendency to not see things as they are sometimes. Like Danny and Sareen taking advantage, like Eren saying it was okay when you let him go, and believing him when he said what he did.” 
You tilt your head to the side, in confusion. 
“Hange and I are far from perfect. I’ll tell you now, very clearly. Hange and I did a vow renewal because we needed one. Not because it was romantic and we wanted to do it again.” 
“What?” 
“We wouldn’t be together if we didn’t do it. And our relationship reached that point, where…where we needed to affirm it again. That we loved each other, that we were committed, that we were what was most important.” 
You sit back, dumbfounded. 
Levi and Hange were in love. They had always been in love. 
“I don’t get it.” 
Levi smiles. 
“What I mean by this is that…these things are normal in love. The initial attraction doesn’t keep you going. You have to pick each other, you have to be on the same side. It’s far more intentional, less cosmic as you think.” Levi states. 
You follow his gaze to Jean and Mikasa, clearly obscenely drunk out of their minds, eating their wedding cake. 
“They’re just as perfect as me and Hange are. It’s a fucking testament to them that they’re sitting here married after what happened with them. And it should be proof to you that what happened with you and Eren won’t hold you back, that…that it’ll really benefit you when it comes to it.  You’ve already gotten past the hard part, you just need to leap now.” 
You swallow hard. 
“Are you shattering my entire worldview by telling me the truth about your vow renewal so I’ll date Eren?”
“Yeah.” 
“Figures.” 
Levi looks over at you, hands warm on your shoulders. 
“Your mistake wasn’t picking him. His was not picking you when it came to it later, not in the way that mattered anyway. Now, fix it. Pick him now.” 
Levi abruptly stops when Eren’s standing at your side, tie loosened around his neck as he gives you a cheesy smile. 
“Ready for me?” Eren asks. 
Levi gives you a narrowed look, which you ignore as you nod and stand up at his side. Eren leads you to the center of the dance floor, securing his hands around your waist as you tangle your own around his neck. 
You and Eren sway to the violin in the background, the two of you quietly observing each other as you walk in step. 
“I’m sorry I took so long. I danced with Mikasa and then Gabi. Lana and Sukuna stopped to talk to me and I just got side tracked.” 
You shake your head. 
“No, no. I…it’s okay. I was with Levi.” 
Eren smiles. 
“I…I’m glad you’re here with me now.” he whispers. 
“Me too.” you whisper back. 
The live singer, a small gift that Levi and Hange had planned for Mikasa and Jean, arrives right at the start of your little dance, and her voice so soft and melodic that you can’t help but pull yourself closer to Eren as she sings, until your ear is muffled against his coat, barely catching the ends of his heartbeat. 
Time's moving so much slower lately It's like the world's playin' a joke Laughing at me for falling foolishly again But something's different with you
Traffic on Sunset doesn't phase me I'm just unusually composed That is until I touch you and I can't pretend I lose myself again, I do
I'm all in, I'm fallin' Can't get back up Can't think right, too tongue-tied It must be love
“Eren?” 
“Yeah?” 
“What are you thinking about?” 
He pulls you apart a little, until you’re standing properly and looking up at him. The violin’s are sending goosebumps down your arms as he looks down at you, pointer finger hooked under your chin as he guides you to look up at him. 
“That someone heard my prayers.” 
You smile. 
“Really?” 
He nods. 
“Armin and I used a whoopie cushion on Connie earlier. Gabi gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and Teddy fell asleep in my lap earlier. Jean and Mikasa are getting married and I’m here with you. There was a point where thinking I’d ever end up here seemed unfathomable to me.” 
“You and Armin are so immature.” you state. 
Eren shrugs. 
“It keeps me young,” he jokes. 
Friends asking me where I've been hiding I'm losin' hours in your eyes Lost in your wonderland, I hope I'm never found There's no one else around, tonight
I'm not so used to being happy Now I just float down every street You made a sappy, stupid something out of me The kind I swore I'd never be I'm awake inside a dream
“I have…I have a lot I want to talk to you about, Eren. So…so much I want to say.” 
Eren’s eyes widen. 
“My time is always yours. What did you want to say?” 
“It’s so many things. And I want to say it right. There’s…there’s so much going on and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and I don’t want to scare you off because you and I are just doing good again and I don’t think that –” 
Eren narrows his eyes. 
“Why are you so tense? There’s nothing you could say that would hurt my feelings. It’s just me.” 
You frown. 
“That’s the problem. It’s just you.” 
You feel a tapping on your shoulder, only to find Jean and Mikasa standing by your side, with two glasses in their hands. 
“Are we interrupting something?” Jean asks. 
You groan. 
“No. What’s up?” 
“We have one last request.” Mikasa states. 
“What is it?” Eren asks. 
The two of them give each other an excited smile – cheeks glazed pink – before they turn back to you. 
“You have to let loose and drink.” they state, pushing the glasses into your hands. 
You both give each other a pinched look, before turning back to them. 
“We don’t drink. It makes me sleepy. And he doesn’t like the taste.” you state. 
“We’re not going to force you. But really, you put so much time into the wedding. We just want you guys to have fun…loosen up a little bit.” Mikasa states. 
The two of them giggle as they walk away, leaving the two of you in the center of the dance floor, nursing the glasses in your hands. You look up at him, entirely lost from your train of thought, as he eyes the liquid. 
“Do you want to?” Eren asks. 
“I don’t know. Do you want to?” 
“It’s been a while since I’ve drank. And really, I only choose not to drink because I always seem to be around people that I’d feel uncomfortable losing my inhibitions around. But it’s just you and me and you’re basically one of the only people I could drink around. I don’t think a little wouldn’t hurt, I guess.” 
You nod, following his lead. Your moment to say your piece had passed already. 
“Okay. Okay, yeah.” 
You both lift the glasses to your lips and sip. 
--
Eren has to carry you back into the house. Because true to your previous statement, wine did make you really sleepy – and two bottles of it has you curled up into his lap in the back of the car. 
Eren can feel his heart beating fast, the sensation blooming in his chest as he tries to steady his breaths. He absentmindedly runs his hands through your hair, running his finger over the sole braid tucked behind your ear. 
He doesn’t think about it very well, but he leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. Eren figures that he must have leaned too close because it has you rousing from your sleep, only nuzzling into his chest even more. 
“Are we home yet, Eren?” 
He can feel his chest tightening. 
“No, sweetheart. Almost, okay?” 
“Okay. Okay, just take me in with you, alright?” you mumble. 
Eren saves his retort about how he’d never leave you behind for when you’re awake, just so he could make sure that you’d actually remember it. And five minutes later, he’s left standing on the gravel with you, as you lean almost all of your weight into his side. 
Every move he makes has you losing your balance, almost toppling to the ground. 
“Hey. Can you lock your arms around my neck?” 
You give him a halfhearted mumble before following his instructions, only to feel him hook his arms underneath your legs and shakily walk you towards the door. You can tell that he’s stumbling a little bit – not walking straight as he almost backs up into the wall as he walks in. 
The two of you must have had too much to drink. Because as Eren walks straight up the stairs, he aims so horribly that he smacks your head straight into the wall and curses after the fact. 
“Eren.” you hiss. 
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see the wall.” 
You groan in response. 
“Look out for it next time.” 
Eren scathes his way to the hallway to his room, which he kicks open before leading you in. You all but collapse on his bed face first as he leans against the wall – groaning from how dizzy he was getting. Luckily for him, he had thought ahead to lay out clothes for himself – and that he overthought so much that there was a second pair too. 
Eren walks over to the bed, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as he shakes. 
“Y/N.” 
No response. 
“Y/N. You can’t sleep in your pretty dress.” he whispers. 
“Tired.” you respond, voice mumbled. 
“Here. I’ll help you change, just work with me.” 
Eren holds one of his hands out to you, which you take. He uses it to pull you up until you’re leaning against him, head lolled against his shoulder and his hands on your waist stabilizing you. Eren secures his hand around your face and you lean into the touch as he looks down at you, eyes side. 
“Work with me here.” Eren whispers. 
“Okay.” 
“I’m going to help you with the zipper on your dress. Just slide the shirt that I left on the side, I-I’ll close my eyes.” 
You shrug. 
“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to close your eyes.” 
“What?” 
“I don’t know. Is that weird? It…it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. And…and I’m not…I don’t know what I’m saying.” 
Eren gives you a nod before he guides you to turn around, fixing his shaking hands on the zipper as he starts pulling it down. Eren can feel his breath hitch in his throat as he turns his head away, trying to banish the thought of the fabric pooling at your legs on the floor, at the small dip in your back that he always seemed to think about. 
He can feel you tugging at his arm and he turns back to find you drowning in one of his old t-shirts, as you look up at him. 
“Are you cold? I have pants you can wear or…or an extra blanket and I –” 
“No. No, it’s okay.” 
Eren didn’t really ask for the help, maybe because he was a little bit more awake than you, but he doesn’t stop you when you reach forward and start unbuttoning his shirt. Eren can tell that it’s more difficult for you than it would have been for him, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to stop you. 
Eren pulls the shirt off and discards it to the side, before turning around to unbutton his pants and switch into his boxers. 
“You…you don’t have to wear a shirt. If you still don’t.” you state. 
Eren can feel his cheeks burning. 
“You sure?”
“I actually don't want you to. That’s why I mentioned that.” 
You’re definitely drunk, Eren thinks. 
“And why’s that?” 
“I like feeling close to you. There’s nothing between my ear and your heart when I lean against you.” you mumble. 
Eren can feel his heart constrict – even more than it was before – when you look up at him now, the glitter smeared around your eyes. And he’s not sure what it is, but there’s tears accumulating in your eyes, replacing the sweetness in his chest with concern. 
“Eren.” you whimper. 
“What? What is it?” 
You swallow hard. You lean your hands against his chest, before pressing your cheek to his chest. 
“I love you so much.” 
Eren frowns, before leaning his chin against the top of your head. 
“That’s nothing to cry about, princess. I love you too.” 
You shake your head, bringing your hands up to your cheeks as you squeeze hard on the skin. 
“No. No, I love you, Eren.” you whisper. 
“Y/N. You…you’re drunk.” 
You frown. 
“You don’t believe me?” 
“I do. But I…I don’t know if it’s because you’re drunk. You might change your mind in the morning.” Eren states. 
You shake your head.
“Eren. Eren, you’re everything to me.” 
You look up at him, reaching to tuck the ends of his hair behind his ear, as you feel your voice shake. 
“I saw Mikasa and Jean and I just…I just knew more than I already did before that I want it to be me and you. I want us to write songs together, I want to wake up next to you, I want to give you haircuts in our bathtub.” 
Eren smiles. 
“Haircuts?” 
“I love your hair short. Just a little bit shorter than it is now, because…because it looks like your hair when I fell in love with you. I’ve been falling since then and I just need you to crawl down into this hole and be here with me, Eren.” you mumble. 
Eren sighs. 
“I’d do anything you asked me to. But, but I need you to say it to me tomorrow, when…when you’re being serious.” 
“I am serious. Eren, there’s no love in the room if you aren’t in it with me.” 
Eren has no words. He has to stumble something out – something because you’re looking at him so expectantly with your doe eyes like you’re waiting for him to give in. 
“Still.” 
You nod, as you stand on the tips of your toes to tuck yourself into the neck. 
“Can you give me one thing, Eren?” 
“What?” 
“Will you kiss me? Just once?” you ask. 
Eren pulls back, eyes weary as he looks down at you. 
“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You, you’re…” 
“I want to kiss you. I messed up our second kiss while we were filming because I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot we were working. I think about it all the time. I want it so bad and I just –” 
Eren leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. You can still taste the remnants of the wine on his lips and he’s breathing shakily into your mouth as he cradles your face in his hands. 
You can feel your heart somersault when he smiles into the kiss, when he presses two, three, and four more to the side of your face. You drop your hands from his neck to his back, the raised skin of the scars on his back underneath your fingers as he presses kisses down your neck. 
“Eren.” 
“Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Too much. We have to go to bed because you’re drunk and I…I can’t do this if you’re drunk and I am too and it…” 
You nod. 
“You’re right. Just…just let me sleep here with you?” you ask. 
“Come on.” 
Eren walks around to the other side of the bed, not without walking straight into the wall first, before he climbs under the sheets with you. And it’s the last thing he remembers before he goes to sleep – you wrapping your leg around him and pressing a kiss right on top of his heart before he goes to bed. 
--
When you wake up in the morning, Eren’s spot in the bed is empty. And you only see him an hour later, when you’re able to reel from what happened last night and see him in the kitchen. 
There’s ten different people milling around the kitchen. Erwin and Historia, Connie and Falco throwing a football, and Sasha taste testing Niccolo’s coffee. But all you see when you walk in is Eren, who just gives you a small wave. 
You feel the rejection sting as you offer it back and take the spot next to him. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi.” 
“Happy last day of filming. Well, not for us, but…you..you know what I meant.” he states. 
You feel your heart drop. He doesn’t remember last night. 
“You too, Eren.”
--
an: oh ladies and gentleman are we ready. ARE WE READY BC CONFESSION NEXT CHAPTER AND IM SO FRRRR. not proofread maybe ill do it tomorrow if I feel strongly enough about it.
also taylor as gojo, bsfs older brother sukuna, and method acting in three days. aka. I CRY A LOT BUT I AM SO PRODUCTIVEEEE ITS AN ART (no I don't I just though this joke was funny)
alsOOOO as I wrap things up I remember someone mentioned wanting some MA chapters from eren's perspective but I can't for the life of me think about which one's would be good for that. the main one that comes to mind is when y/n gets stranded and eren comes to her rescue with ricky LOL. anyways im open to ideas.
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol l @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami i @florichun @hoonmyluv
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digital-domain · 2 days
Text
Retrieval
Alastor x Reader // word count 4.4k
Pt 3 to Spring Cleaning and Clean Slate
In which you attempt to leave.
Tags/warnings: yandere, intimidation, noncon kissing, choking, Alastor’s shadow doing things a shadow should not be able to do
A/N: Really thought this was gonna be a one-off but here we are. I usually don’t even write one follow-up, much less two, so this is unfamiliar terrain for me. Alas, I could not resist. Enjoy (or don’t. I’m not in charge.)
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You remember a time when this was good. Well - no. You’re sure, now, that it was rotten from the beginning. But there was a time when it felt good. When you invited it in. When you wanted more.
Time for bed, my dear. 
He’s said this to you many times. Now, each repetition deepens the never-ending pit in your stomach. But the first time…how long ago was it? You don’t remember. You don’t even remember how long you’ve been here. Here at this hotel, or here, in hell - each one distorts hours and months in its own way. They tug at you until you slip through the fingers of time, and end up on a day you don’t remember arriving at, in a place that is only yours if you forget what has happened there.
It’s far too late for you to be thinking as deeply as you are.
You’d been sitting on the top of the stairs for a long time that night, however-long-ago, fending off the inevitable onset of your dreams. He’d been gone all day, and when he had finally returned (from where, you never found out), he’d seen you from the lobby. Called out to you, in a voice far too quiet and gentle to carry to your ears as well as it did. It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken to you, but it was the first time he’d spoken to you alone. And even if that wasn’t true, there would have been something different about it. 
And, in my opinion, far too fair a night for such misery.
From the beginning, you’d known that nothing about him was entirely unfiltered. The first time you’d met, he’d given a wonderful little performance. Shaken your hand, taken you by the shoulder, quickly escorted you away from the people who would soon warn you not to trust him. And you’d known it was fake. Of course you had. You weren’t, perhaps, the most excellent judge of character, but you knew no one acted like that by instinct. It was calculated. Not to be trusted.
It struck you oddly, then, to hear such an allegedly inhuman character talk about something as mundane as the joy of pleasant weather. It felt entirely real, even at an hour when almost nothing seemed real at all. Hell did have its decent moments, now and then; there were no seasons, so to speak, but very occasionally you’d get a day that felt like summer, and a night to match. It was nice, when it happened. Delightful, even. 
But, if you insist upon staying awake - and I admit, I do understand that impulse better than most - I suggest you do it somewhere with an open window. 
The realization had hit, somewhere in the middle of this, that he was being kind to you. You hadn’t wondered why at the time. You’d take anything you could get, in those early, confused days after your death, and receiving it from an unexpected source somehow made it better. He didn’t do things like this out of obligation. He cared, for some reason you could only guess at.
You’re still guessing, now. But that night, you hadn’t thought so deeply about it. You’d only stared back at him, and nodded almost imperceptibly at his suggestion. 
He’d paused, matching your silence for a long stretch. Considered your expression, in the way those unblinking eyes always seemed uniquely suited for.
Shall I escort you to your room, my dear?
You’d nodded mutely, and he’d ascended the stairs, offered you his hand, helped you to your feet, guided you to your door.
And then, a mistake. Grateful, exhausted, feeling utterly alone in a strange world - you’d invited him in. 
He’d opened your window for you, and lingered beside it for several quiet seconds before you asked him to sit down in your desk chair. He’d smiled strangely at that, softer than you were used to, and left quickly, almost hastily, after only a few minutes. But he’d stood motionless in the hallway for several seconds before you’d heard him walk away. 
After that night, you never invited him in again - you didn’t have to. He came of his own accord. Only occasionally, at first. Then, more often, until hardly a day went by without it. It was almost pleasant, at first, and then a slow, unyielding creep towards what you have now. Something you don’t understand. Something you only started resenting after it was too late to back away. 
You’ve spent a long time wondering why he chose you, of all people. Why he feels so entitled to your space, to your life, why he wants it to begin with. Why he holds onto you so tightly. You’ve even asked him, in roundabout ways, to no avail. But somewhere in your mind, a shoved-down place that only now rises to the surface, you think that it might be your fault. Your fault, for being so desperate for solace, for company, that you’d take it from anyone you could. For feeling proud to have gained his attention, long after the point where it stopped doing you any good.
Now, lying above your bed covers, you toy with the hem of your slip, which you’ve absently pulled up to mid-thigh. Perhaps you don’t need to be wearing it tonight. Alastor has been mysteriously absent from the hotel in the two days that have passed since his last appearance in your room. You doubt whatever’s called him away has left him much time for spying upon you. And still, you feel compelled to act as if he is watching. As if he might return to your bedside at any moment.
Your memory flashes back to two nights ago, and you try to yank it away. You don’t want to think about what he did to you then. You certainly don’t want to think about why. The way his eyes were fixed not on your body, but on your face, as if it was your shame he wanted to see, and nothing more.
It was unsettling. But perhaps not surprising. If it was only your body that he wanted, after all, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to control the rest of you. That, you don’t understand. That - it’s what really keeps you awake.
The light from your lamp, which you have no intention of turning off, stings beneath your closed eyes as you lie rigidly on your back. You barely slept the night before, either, so this day passed in a sort of stupor, the adrenaline of early morning giving way to a numb, heavy feeling as the afternoon dragged on.
But the numbness is good, in a way, you think. It lets you do things you wouldn’t otherwise. With your eyes still closed, you bring your other hand to the hem of the slip. The lace and the silk above it are delicate, and you pull hard with both fists. The light ripping noise that follows is beautiful, for a moment.
Then, the familiar dread snaps back into place, worse for your act of stupidity. 
He will be back, before long. His sudden absence has not been a reprieve, but a looming threat, a two-day stretch in which you have not taken one proper breath, and you have the feeling that he will know what you have done the moment he returns. 
If he does not somehow know already. If you haven’t already summoned him back by the rebellious movements of your hands. There is panic coursing through you, fear not of what is here now but of what has been, and what will be. It’s not the panic you’d feel at an immediate threat, like a wild animal baring down on you in a dark forest - instead, it’s the sort of inescapable head-buzzing sensation you experienced often in life, when you’d been in a room for far too long, and were not yet allowed to leave. An overwhelming feeling that you are trapped, not by physical bonds, but by the consequences that might ensue if you walk away.
If you were to walk away, to run away…what would happen? You do not know, and you don’t want to think about it. You want to leave. No - you need to leave. If you do not do it now, now, you never will. And the idea of never leaving, of this stretching on until he decides that it’s time for it to end - if he ever does -
You sit up, and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. He will be back soon. You’re sure of it. And you cannot bear the thought of being here when he returns. 
What can you do about it? You can do something. You can stand up. You can find the large backpack stuffed into the corner of your closet, and start shoving things inside. You don’t have many things at all, and most of the things you do have are not important enough to keep. You’re certainly not bringing any of these clothes with you. 
All these things, you do quickly, in a sort of daze, driven by a single motive. Get out, get out. It is easy, if you don’t stop moving. If you don’t think more than you have to, if you let this one idea drive you all the way out the door. One set of clothes, you do have to bring - the one that goes on your body. The only one that you feel even remotely comfortable wearing. Black trousers, red sweater. The contents of the small compartments of your dresser have been replaced, so you do not feel comfortable with the things you are wearing underneath these clothes, but they are quickly hidden. You are not in strong enough possession of your body to feel them clinging to your skin.
You’ve discarded the slip onto the floor, and with the way it’s crumpled, you can’t even see the small rip in the hem. It’s not enough. You pick it up and rip it further, until it is torn all the way to the neck, before dropping it like it’s on fire. Perhaps it would be better to take it with you, to get rid of it in a place where he won’t see the remains, but you do not want to have it for a second longer. It flutters back to the floor, and you cover your clean, white, unfamiliar socks with the ragged sneakers you’ve somehow been allowed to keep. 
Where do you go? Where can you go? For reasons that you certainly didn’t come up with yourself (reasons that seemed like cloying but utterly convincing advice, at the time) you barely speak to anyone outside of these walls. You haven’t even got a phone. And even if you did, you can’t imagine pulling anyone into this mess - your mess, a quiet voice in your head reminds you. This is your creation, and you will see it through alone. There is a motel, you remember, a shoddy building a few streets away that you’ve taken notice of every time you’ve passed. You will go there, and you will sleep, and tomorrow -
Tomorrow does not matter yet. Tonight, you only need to leave. 
You’re sure that no one in this building is awake. Or at least, no one is awake enough to check on the noises your feet make as they collide, painfully loud, over and over, with the creaking hallway floor. And yet, you advance as slowly and carefully as you can manage, barely keeping at bay the adrenaline that urges you to run. The night is pleasantly warm, but a shudder runs through you as you crack open the front door of the sleeping hotel. This, too, you keep at bay, instructing your feet to keep moving until you dislodge the disarming chill from your bones, and settle back into your skin. You are walking quickly, but not running, as you wade into the dark streets before you. It is a bad idea, being out here alone, at this hour, and running is loud. 
Then again, you think your breathing might be harsher, at this moment, than any noise the soles of your shoes could create.
You didn’t realize until now that you already had this route mapped out in your head, so clearly that you can follow it without thinking. It’s not far. Quicker if you slide through the little alley to your left. Quicker still if you speed up, just a bit, just enough that your breath catches oddly in your throat, exertion mixing with the faintest glimmer of hope. There is a breeze flowing out from behind you, gentle against the nape of your neck. The streets are mercifully quiet. 
You are not thinking. If you were, you might not be able to tell yourself that all was well. 
As it is, you buy yourself a few more seconds of hope. But your eyes are wide. Too wide and too alert to miss the strange thing that comes your way. Once you see it, you cannot look anywhere else.
Your stomach drops. You slowly ease your bag off of your shoulders, and let it fall to the ground beside you. You will not be taking it any further than here.
You know this, because there is an inexplicable shadow pressed against the side of the alley. It is cast by nothing, darker than the night that surrounds it. A long, abstract shape unfurls bit by bit, extends its tendrils across the worn brick, and drips down until it spills onto the polished boots that have appeared suddenly on the ground in front of you. 
There’s a horribly familiar sigh, but no words. No touch. Not yet.
Soon. Too soon, you’ll hear his voice.
But you find that you do not have the impulse to scream, like anyone else might in this situation. Nor do you want to run. You do not want to take so much as a step backwards. You do not do these things, because you are not scared like you might have expected. No. The thing that quickens your pulse is not fear, but anger. You were so close. You could have made it. And you should have made it.
You should not have had to run to begin with.
You answer a question that you didn’t realize you were asking until this moment. This is not your fault. None of it. Nothing that makes you feel like this could possibly be your doing alone. So, instead of looking up and apologizing, you stare at the ground, and imagine that your eyes shine as intensely as the ones above you. It’s a striking contrast, your worn, comfortable shoes toe-to-toe with polished leather. A victory, in its own small way.
You feel Alastor lean over you, and your hands curl into fists of their own accord. 
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively calm, “what a terrible risk you’ve taken?”
“Some idea.” You’re seething, just as you know he must be underneath the surface - the only difference is that you aren’t bothering to hide it. “You’ll forgive me.”
“Oh…I’m not talking about my own impulses, my dear. Running was a terrible idea for many reasons.” His glove catches you beneath your jaw - you press back against it for a moment before following its guide. Before looking up into the eyes you never wanted to see again, and the grin that bears down upon you. “You might find it hard to wrap your head around, considering its current misguided state, but I assure you that I am far from the only threat that the nights of hell have to offer.”
“But you are a threat.” He’s shown his hand, you think. It’s satisfying to point out - until it’s thrown back in your face. 
“Only when provoked, darling.” His eyes are a brighter red than you’ve ever seen them, glowing with some intense emotion - whether it’s hatred or a deep appreciation, you don’t know, and will never know. He releases your jaw, runs his finger slowly down the line of your neck. “But you’ve no need to worry…it would take quite a lot of provocation for me to hurt you. Even now, I’m not even close to taking such drastic action.” 
Your teeth grind together, clenched as tightly as his pasted-on smile, as the fist wrapped around his staff. “You think you haven’t hurt me already?”
“Oh, my.” He laughs gently, dismissively - but it’s not quite as convincing as usual. He’s standing rigidly, pressing the bottom of his staff tightly against the ground, holding his free hand not behind his back, but at his side. Fingers stiffly curled, practically trembling with the effort of holding still, as if they’re itching to grab onto something.“You are feeling bold tonight. Not as if I couldn’t tell by the little present you left behind in your room…but it is rather strange to experience it in person. You’re usually such a sweetheart.”
You tune out the syrupy condescension of his voice. You’re done with listening to him. Done with beating around the bush, done with getting brushed aside again and again. “What do you want from me?”
“Cliches don’t suit you, my dear,” he intones darkly. “Especially not when paired with that expression.” He slowly raises his hand, and reaches for your face, as if he hopes to rearrange the features he finds so unpleasant. Without a second thought, you jerk backwards, and slap his hand away.
He holds it frozen. Poised in midair. The last time this happened, it was enough to make you tug back everything you’d just done. 
Not this time.
“What,” you hiss, taking another full step back, “do you want from me?”
The corner of his grin twitches so severely that you can almost imagine it dropping from his face. “At the moment, I only wish for you to return home.”
“That’s not what I mean.” You hold your fists at your sides. Spine straight, shoulders pressed back. Toes curled inside your shoes. You can feel the unfamiliar undergarments clinging to your hips, your ribcage - you want them gone. You want him gone. 
“Then pray tell, my dear”-
“All of it.” You hold his gaze as his head tilts slowly to one side. Listen to the cracking of bones, and press on, before you can think better of it. “You won’t let me go. You can’t. And I don’t even get to know why.” There’s a desperation in your voice, rising with the volume of it, quickly spiraling out of your control. “All I know is that you’re - you’re trying to control me, and that I hate it, and that I don’t fucking understand it.”
Images from two nights before descend upon your mind, and your train of thought comes entirely undone. It’s more than images, really. You can certainly picture him standing over you, his red eyes flaring as you stripped yourself bare in front of him, but you can also feel it, the awful heat under your skin battling with the chill of the air, the brush of his finger along your hip, the gentle kiss to your forehead. The hands pulled tightly behind his back. And the way you felt then, the thing you’d be afraid of, if it was anyone else.
“You - you don’t”- You feel strangely distant from your body, as if your mind is a separate entity, floating somewhere slightly outside of your skull. Your mouth takes a sharp breath, and more words cascade out before you can return to stop them. “I was fucking naked in front of you, and you didn’t feel anything. If you don’t want - that”-
Any other stupid words you might say are cut off by a rising buzz of static, which emanates from him as his staff disappears before your eyes, and his newly-free hand takes on the stiff, barely-restrained posture of the other. You wonder, in that detached manner your thoughts take on when you are frightened, if he’s doing this on purpose, or if it’s somehow leaking out in a way that’s beyond his control. 
You feel tears welling in your eyes, and try in vain to shove them back down. You don’t know where they came from. “I don’t understand.” 
For the first time, you see his grin drop - not all the way, but enough that the line of it changes, enough that it becomes a grimace. It’s so unsettling that you wish the usual, terrible smile would return. “That much is obvious, my dear. I wonder if you even realize how tragic what you just said really was.”
You freeze as your wrists are snatched by coils of shadow, smooth and inexplicably solid. Your arms are yanked straight down, and when you try to tear them away, you fail. Your hands are free to form fists, but remain trapped against your sides.
“That you can only fathom being desired in such a shallow way…”
His image flickers before you. You’re already half-turned around when he reappears behind you a moment later, but there’s nothing you can do to stop his hands from curling, one finger at a time, around your shoulders, far too close to your neck for comfort. You stare straight ahead as his face twists into the periphery of your vision. 
And he whispers in your ear, his voice bare of any effect, just the hint of some old, earthly accent slipping through. “I’m afraid that I want much more than that.” 
He slides around you at the same moment the bonds around your wrists release, and effortlessly turns you by your shoulders - he does not push you against the wall that now stands behind you, but you step back out of instinct and flatten yourself against it. He matches your steps with his own, traps you between himself and the rough brick at your back, and latches his gloved hand beneath your jaw, wrenching your face upwards. With his other hand, he reaches down, flips your palm so that it’s no longer facing the wall and interlocks his fingers with your own. His grin springs back into place, and oh - you wish you could run now. You would, if you could.
His eyes slide away from you for a moment as he puts something together in his head. “These little acts of rebellion from you…I think I ought to thank you for them.” He blinks slowly, and returns his gaze to your face. “I don’t think I would have realized just how close I wanted to keep you, if you hadn’t attempted to leave. And now…oh. I understand perfectly, now. I know exactly what I want.” He bows his head, lowers his lips to your ear, so that you can hear the shudder of his breath. “I’ll have your soul one day, my dear. A day when you’re already bound so tightly to me that such a contract will be a mere formality.” 
“And until that day comes…” He draws back from the side of your face, stares not into your eyes, but through them. His teeth part. His tongue flicks out from between them, and slides quickly over their jagged edges. “I feel as if I’m prepared to do anything, if only it will bring you closer.” 
The last vestiges of your anger burst forth, and you attempt to wrench your face out of his grasp. He lets you, and moves his hand to the back of your neck, his long fingers pressing harshly into the sides. You look up, eyes wide with terror, as the palm that has been flattened against your own releases your hand from the wall, and rises to curl tightly around your waist. 
He pulls you close. You do not see the moment that his smile disappears, as it surely must - your eyes are already closed when he kisses you, screwed tightly shut as his hot, rancid breath works its way into your lungs. There’s a hint of whiskey beneath the rot, and something metallic, the same taste that floods your mouth when you bite the inside of your lip a bit too hard. His hand slides around from the back of your neck, and closes at your throat - he keeps it there after he’s pulled away, and watches as you struggle against his grip. 
“You have a decision to make now, darling.” He takes a deep, satisfied breath, the tension leaving his posture even as you fight to breathe beneath his hand. “You can return all by yourself…” His fingers curl tighter around your neck, and tendrils of shadow lash at your wrists and ankles, slowly twisting their way up your limbs. “Or, I can bring you back. I imagine that would cause quite a scene..but the choice is yours.” He tilts his head, stares down at you through narrowed eyes, and - after another moment of watching you struggle - eases his grip just enough for you to answer.
You don’t hesitate for a moment. Even if you had the air to argue, you wouldn’t dare. “I’ll - come back” -
“Lovely.” He releases you, and takes a step back. Pulls one hand slowly behind him, as if doing so takes a tremendous amount of effort. “Since you’re so attached to your freedom, I’ll allow you to walk back unsupervised.” He traces the back of his other hand gently down your cheek, stopping only briefly to press the tips of his fingers against the hardened clench of your jaw. You let it go slack - only then does he pull his hand away. “But as I told you before, darling…there are many threats lurking in the shadows of these streets. So I do suggest that you watch your step.” 
His image fades away before you. In the same moment that you watch him disappear, there is a shift in the surface under your feet. You no longer feel the familiar soles of your shoes, but the ground beneath, rough with the texture of cracks and debris. Cold. Not damp, exactly, but carrying the faint suggestion of something wet having only recently become dry. 
Your toes curl inside your pristine white socks, which will soon be stained by the filth of the ground beneath them. There’s a new shadow against the wall - it slides along with you as you carefully retrace your steps home.
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