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ssprayberrythings · 25 days

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living in oblivion | LS2

logan sargeant x female!reader, oscar piastri x platonic!reader

warnings: none just two people oblivious to their feelings for one another

note: im obviously not someone who works for a f1 team so i have no idea how reading the data actually works but this is a piece of fiction so just go with it lol

special mention to @whydowesleepeachnight for this idea! sorry it took me so long to get it out to the world, i hope it lives up to the idea you gave to me (:

word count: 4k

masterlist | taglist

You were currently at the first race of the new season, supporting Oscar. You and Oscar had been best friends since you were 7 and Oscar was 8. The two of you met at summer camp where you spent 6 weeks together, getting to know everything about each other.

When time came to say goodbye, you had promised each other you’d call and email (through your parents of course). By some miracle, you never lost touch and your friendship only got stronger the older you got.

When Oscar started his journey towards racing and he shared with you his goal was to be an F1 driver, you showed him nothing but encouragement and support. You celebrated all of his successes and achievements.

When he met Lily his girlfriend, you were beyond happy, seeing your best friend happy and in love. It also helped that you and Lily got along instantly and she became one of your closest friends.

You were brought back to reality when Lily called your name

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked the girl

She laughed “I just asked if you had seen him yet today. We could go pop in before he has to start getting ready for the race” she said again smiling at you.

“Oh yeah, let’s go!” You nodded, you enjoyed getting to see him before the race and you knew Lily did too, especially with how busy he usually was after a race.

As you and Lily walked through the paddock towards the McLaren hospitality, you passed Lando.

“Hey if you’re looking for Oscar, he’s outside of the William’s hospitality talking with Alex” Lando told you two smiling before continuing his walk wherever he was initially going.

You and Lily offered him a thanks and continued walking till you reached your destination and sure enough there was Oscar with Alex but there was another driver with them, Logan Sargeant. You felt your heart skip a beat.

Being best friends with Oscar, you obviously knew Logan and there had been plenty of times when you would hang out with Oscar that you also hung out with Logan.

As the three of you got older, you grew up and you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards Logan. The blue eyes and blonde hair got you.

As you approached the group, Oscar noticed you and Lily

“Hey! What are you doing here?” He asked bringing his girlfriend in for a side hug and offering you a smile

“We just wanted to see you before the race started” she told him

“And wish you luck” you added finding your voice, hoping the nerves weren’t noticeable.

Oscar just smiled “Thanks” he told you.

“Lily you know Logan and Alex. Y/N this is Alex and you know Logan” Oscar introduced you to the other William’s driver

“Nice to meet you” you told Alex who smiled at you

“Hi Logan” you said politely trying to stay as cool and calm as you could

“Hey Y/N!” Logan said, offering you a smile which you returned, doing your best not to blush.

The five of you spoke a bit longer before the three drivers had to go and get ready.

You and Lily said goodbye to the William’s boys as they walked into their hospitality, then you walked a bit away, to give the couple a moment before the two of you walked back to where you initially were.

When Lily joined you again, you started walking back

“So Logan’s pretty cute” Lily said out of the blue

“Lily! You have a boyfriend” you said looking at her to which she rolled her eyes

“Not for me you goof” she said “For you” she finished

If you had been drinking anything, you would’ve probably spit it out at her words

“What is that supposed to mean? I don’t like Logan” you said quickly which earned a look from your friend

“Judging by the blush on your face at the mention of him and how defensive you just got I’d say that’s not the total truth” she said matter of factly.

You bit the inside of your cheek, not sure what to say

“And now I know from the silence, how right I am” she said smirking which earned a groan from you. She was so observant, it was annoying at times.

“Okay yes Logan is cute and yes I may or may not be attracted to him” you told her

“But it’s not a big deal and I don’t want to make it a big deal” you told her,

She nodded appearing to be lost in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no” you told her. You had been friends with the girl long enough now to know when she was planning something

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say” she said

“I don’t care, I could tell you were planning something I would’ve disagreed with” you explained as you reached your destination.

“Lils can we just drop it for now? I want to enjoy our time here and just cheer on Oscar” you asked the girl

She sighed “Fine but we aren’t done talking about this” she told you before smiling at you.

You sighed, the race had bought you a bit more time from having this conversation with the girl.

Since that moment with Lily, things only got worse and it got harder to hide your attraction towards Logan whenever you were near him.

Lily had told Oscar which you assumed she would and the two of them were relentless in “accidentally” having you and Logan be near eachother.

When Lily wasn’t around, Oscar on his own wasn’t any better.

He would playfully pick on you for your crush to the point where you were certain Logan definitely had to have known of your crush by now or atleast suspected something.

Now it was time for the Miami Grand Prix which was a big deal for Logan as it was his home race.

You weren’t going to come but Oscar had insisted you had to be there, his exact words were “to see your boy in his element” even though Logan wasn’t yours.

Fortunately you couldn’t argue with him cause deep down you wanted to be there.

You had gotten in a few hours earlier than you had told Oscar because you wanted to surprise Oscar at the track.

It was media day so you knew he’d be around somewhere and he had already given you your friends & family pass so you had a way in.

You took an Uber over and walked in no problem. As you walked to McLaren’s hospitality you passed Lando and Max,

“Hey Y/N! Oscar didn’t say you’d be here today” Lando smiled giving you a quick hug

“Yeah I thought I’d surprise him” you told him

“Oh well, have fun doing that” he chuckled before you said your goodbyes and parted ways.

You walked past William’s hospitality, not noticing Logan and Alex filming some media content.

Logan recognized you immediately but you were too far for him to call your name plus he was in the middle of something

“Bro did you hear me?” Alex asked as the camera recorded them “You just got distracted” he laughed at his teammate

“Oh sorry” Logan awkwardly laughed before turning his attention to Alex and the work they were doing.

The camera that was on them had caught the whole interaction and if someone had to describe the look on Logan’s face when he spotted you, they’d say it was someone who was in complete awe.

That’s the effect you had on him, you just didn’t know it.

You made it to McLaren just as Oscar was walking out

“Surprise” you said when your eyes met causing you to laugh, you wanted to do a bit more but the timing didn’t allow for that.

Oscar smiled widely and gave you a bear hug when he was off the steps “I’m so happy you’re here” he exclaimed, you smiled at him.

You ended up spending your day around McLaren while Oscar did his media duties. You had brought your iPad so you did some work to pass the time.

When he was done for the day, he found you in his drivers room, you had dozed off with your head leaning against the wall, your iPad discarded on the couch next to you and you were hugging your legs to your chest.

He quickly snapped a photo of you like this, remembering to use that when your birthday rolled around, then he walked over to wake you up

“Sleeping beauty, it’s time to go” he said chuckling slightly shaking you gently, you must not have been in a deep sleep cause you woke up almost right away

“Shit sorry, I think the travelling just crept up on me” you said stretching your legs and arms, rubbing your eyes to wake you up

“All good, I was coming to get you so we could head out” he told you walking over to pick up his backpack.

You got up, grabbing your iPad closing the case and putting it back in your tote bag.

“Sounds good” you said. The two of you made your way out of the building before going to the parking lot.

“You know Logan asked where you were today” Oscar told you casually “He said he saw you on your way to McLaren earlier but was too busy at the moment to say hello” he finished

“Oh I feel bad, I should’ve went and said hi” you said biting your lip out of habit.

Even if you liked Logan, you weren’t the type of person to avoid him because of it, at the end of the day you still considered him a friend.

“I think he’s still around, you could pop in, I'll wait for you in the car” he offered

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be quick, thanks Osc” you smiled at him before picking up the pace and walking to William’s.

When you got there, Alex was leaving with Lily his girlfriend

“Hey Alex, is Logan in there?” You asked him

He nodded “Yeah, he is, maybe he’ll listen to you about leaving. He keeps looking at the data from the previous races so he knows what to improve on for this race” Alex told you

You frowned,

“Oh, okay yeah I’ll see what I can do” you told him before offering him and Lily a small smile, walking around them going inside to Logan’s driver room.

You knocked on the door

“Come in” you heard Logan’s voice on the other side of the door, you opened the door

“Hey stranger” you joked offering him a smile

“Oh hey” Logan said his mood picking up from seeing you

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You walked in “Oscar told me you were asking about me so I thought I’d come say hi incase I don’t see you before the race” you told him smiling which he returned.

It was obvious to anyone but the two of you that you had a mutual interest in each other.

“Oh, that’s nice of you” he replied

You weren’t sure what else to say but then you remembered what Alex told you,

“Alex tells me you’re refusing to leave, something about looking at data” you said casually walking over to the couch he was sitting on, sitting next to him.

Sure enough he had an iPad open on his lap with data pulled up.

“I just want to make sure I do a good job at this race, it’s a big deal, I want to make everyone proud” he shared with you

You nodded understanding where he was coming from “Logan you’re a good driver and everyone is already proud of you, regardless of how you do” you told him trying to reassure him

“Plus you can only reread the data so many times, the information is still the same” you continued

“You know what you’re doing and when the time comes to be behind the wheel, your instincts will take over” you finished, trying to make him feel better.

He looked over at you, he looked tired but he nodded his head acknowledging what you had said

“C’mon, we’ll give you a ride back to the hotel” you told him nicely, he thanked you and closed the iPad which you took from him.

“What are you doing?” He asked confused

“I don’t trust you wont secretly try and steal a couple glances in the car” you said putting the iPad in your bag. He still looked confused and a bit apprehensive

“Don’t worry I won’t go sharing secrets to your opposing teams” you joked, not earning a laugh from Logan you stopped joking,

“Okay how about you come with me back to my room, we can order some food, you can give your eyes a break from the screen and then together we can look it over some more” you offered.

You realized what this meant and what it could’ve implied but you just wanted to help out your friend.

After a moment of silence he agreed and then the two of you made your way out of the building, meeting up with Oscar in the parking lot

“That was not quick” he told you when you got in the passenger seat and Logan in the back

“What were you doing?” He asked curisouly

“Don’t worry about it, we just got caught up talking” you told him

“Now can we leave? I’m hungry” you changed the subject, knowing Oscar would keep pushing.

He sighed and started the car, driving to the hotel. When you got there, you made your way to the elevator, Logan following.

Oscar stayed in the lobby, seeing some of the other drivers and choosing to chat with them before heading up to his room

“What’s up with those two?” Lando asked seeing you and Logan together

“I don’t know, I’m hoping they finally confessed their feelings” Oscar said “Not sure how much more of this oblivion I can take” he said drastically

“Maybe they’re spending the night together” Lando said wiggling his eyebrows to indicate what he was referring to

“Oh ew, I don’t want to think of that, she’s like a sister to me” Oscar said groaning, even though in the back of his mind, he knew it could be a possibility.

Meanwhile back in your hotel room, you and Logan had ordered room service and made yourselves comfortable on the couch.

You put something on the TV to fill the silence and pass the time while you waited for your food.

You eventually pulled the iPad back out and opened it, looking at the data while Logan just sat silently next to you.

You had always enjoyed stats and reading data however this was a different kind of data you didn’t fully understand.

Eventually there was a knock on the door, your food. “I’ll get it” he told you standing up and getting the food, being sure to thank the gentleman that brought it.

Logan came and sat on the couch putting your food on the coffee table infront of him. You put the iPad down, wanting to eat instead of looking at things you didn’t understand.

“Do you think there’s anything I can improve on?” he asked after sometime passed

You looked at him, he looked so sincere right in this moment.

“The only thing I found was a lot of numbers and words that I don’t fully understand however I’m going to assume because they repeat themselves it’s an indicator you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to” you told him

“You’d think you were a good driver or something” you joked nudging his shoulder, causing a slight chuckle to leave him.

There was a comfortable silence that fell upon you as you continued to eat your food.

“Thank you” Logan spoke after some time passed. He had finished his food and was now looking at you

You turned to meet his eyes “It was nothing but you’re welcome” you smiled. Damn he loved seeing your smile

“Can I ask you something?” He asked sounding slightly nervous which caused you to swallow a lump in your thought. This could be related to anything.

“Sure” you said trying to sound as casual as you could

“Would it be okay if I kissed you” he asked softly looking in your eyes.

You thought your ears might’ve been deceiving you,

‘did he just ask if he could kiss me’, you thought to yourself.

Becoming aware of your silence, you slowly nodded “That would definitely be okay” you told him as he moved closer.

Suddenly you didn’t know what to do, it was as if you had never been kissed before. He slowly leaned in, his one hand on the side of your face.

You leaned into his embrace and before you knew it his lips were on yours, you instinctively kissed back.

The way your lips fit perfectly together, you would think they were two puzzle pieces placed together.

Eventually you both had to pull away but Logan didn’t pull away fully, he rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed

“I’ve been wanting to do that for way too long” he confessed.

You were taken back, you never thought he felt the same “I could say the same thing” you chuckled.

He pulled away opening his eyes looking at you “We were so oblivious” he joked which brought a giggle out of you.

After that you cleaned up your food, you let Logan read over the data a bit more, this time he explained what everything meant to you then eventually you put the iPad back in your bag and went to cuddle on your bed.

“I know I should go but I don’t want to leave you” Logan told you while your head rested on his chest.

You looked up at him “You could spend the night” you suggested then realized what that may have implied

“Not like that, just so than you don’t have to leave” you added a blush coming to your face as Logan chuckled slightly.

“Don’t worry I knew what you meant” he reassured you

“But if you’re offering, I’m fine with staying” he smiled “ill leave in the morning to quickly stop at my room to clean up” you nodded then pushed yourself up to go get and get changed.

That night you and Logan fell asleep cuddled up next to each other with your head nuzzled between his shoulder and his neck meanwhile his arm was tightly around you keeping you close.

The following morning, you were awoken to knocking on your door, relatively loud knocking. You groaned and cuddled closer to Logan who was still asleep.

When the knocking didn’t stop, you begrudgingly got out of Logan’s embrace and made your way to the door, opening it and seeing Oscar standing there

“Oscar what do you want so urgently, I was sleeping” you said still half asleep

Before Oscar could answer, Logan appeared rubbing some sleep out of his eyes

“Dude you knock really loudly” he said before going into the washroom, leaving a stunned Oscar and a slightly blushing you.

“You were saying” You reminded Oscar who was still shocked at seeing Logan in your room.

“No no doesn’t matter now” he said “I believe you have something to tell me” he looked at you

You shrugged deciding to be chill about it, knowing it would drive Oscar mad

“Nope, nothing to say” you said pretending to think, while Logan exited the washroom seeming more awake this time

“Logan is there anything to tell Oscar?? He seems to think there is” you informed Logan of the topic of conversation.

Logan picking up on what you were doing, shook his head,

“No I don’t believe so” he said wrapping his arm around your shoulders as if this was a normal occurrence.

Oscar was still shook and clearly speechless from his lack of words

“You’re both going to drive me mental” he finally said “Okay well whatever this is” he said referring to you and Logan

“I wish you the best and also I was coming to ask if you wanted to join us for breakfast but I’ll think I’ll just leave you be” he finished

“Thanks Osc” you told him smiling at him, before he said goodbye and Logan shut the door.

“Back to bed” you said turning to go back to the bed but before you could do so Logan gently grabbed your wrist and turned you, bringing you closer to him

“First a kiss” he said before leaning down and kissing you.

You smiled in the kiss, kissing him back.

That race in Miami ended up being one of Logan’s best, he finished in P7 which earned the team some points and was an overall great showcase of his driving abilities.

When the race was over and he found you, he engulfed you in a massive hug

“Logan that was so good, I know you didn’t get on the podium but I am so proud of you” you told him hugging him back

“I don’t care, that was one of the best races I’ve had in awhile and I’m so glad you were here to watch it” he explained pulling away smiling proudly

“You must bring me good luck” he smirked tucking a stand of your hair behind your ear

“Guess that means you can’t miss a race” you chuckled before someone called his name telling you he had to go do his after race duties

“I’ll see you around” he told you, you nodded your head and decided to lean up and leave a kiss on his cheek

“I’ll be here” you told him as he blushed from your kiss before walking away.

You were so happy that things had worked out for you when it came to Logan. You couldn’t wait to catch Lily up with all the details even though you were sure Oscar had already done so.

You laughed to yourself thinking about his reaction before deciding to go find your best friend and congratulate him on his podium finish, he had gotten P3.

When you found him, you gave him a big hug “Osc I’m so proud of you!” You exclaimed genuinely happy for your friend.

He hugged you back “Thanks Y/N” then pulled away

“Did you see Logan? P7 is good” he asked smirking at you while you rolled your eyes playfully

“Yeah I already saw him, gave him a reward for doing so well” you raised your eyebrows at Oscar who groaned

“Oh ew I didn’t need to know that” he said making you laugh

“Slow down, I didn’t say what, get your head out of the gutter” you exclaimed pretending to act offended before laughing

“I just gave him a kiss on the cheek if you must know” you told Oscar

“So I guess this means you finally told him about your crush?” He asked already knowing the answer

You nodded smiling at your best friend who mirrored your smile

“I’m happy for you two, seriously” he told you pulling you into a side hug “Now we can go on double dates” he said excitedly which you chuckled at

“Yeah but are you sure you can handle the both of us picking on you especially when you say things like thongs instead of flip flops” you looked up at him

He rolled his eyes “I take it back, im not happy anymore” he said even though you knew he was joking “And stop hating on my choice of words, it’s what I know” he groaned which earned a chuckle from you.

“Whatever you say Osc” you patted his chest before pulling out of his embrace

“Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go find my favourite American and give him a proper reward for doing well” you told him smirking as he acted grossed out

“Ahhh please keep those details to yourself, I don’t want to know about them” he said which you laughed at before turning away and going to find Logan so you could celebrate properly.

taglist: @namgification @itsyagirlmeee @asparklysoul @bwormie @meadhbhcavanagh @talksoprettyjjx & @ari-nicole

I've had this written in my notes for so long I just wasn't sure If I was ready to post it but I guess now is better than later!!

#ssprayberrythings x formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #logan sargeant x smau #l #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #x reader #f1 imagine #imagines #ls2 x reader #ls2 #ls2 fluff #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine

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talkdutchtome · 5 months

Text

Glitch- chapter seven (18+)

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

warning . . . this chapter contains smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, very slight fdom -blink and you'll miss it-, if you don't want to read the smut there is a border where it starts and finishes so you can skip it )

a/n . . . i think this chapter might make some of you mad but this is a love triangle fic, it's going to be a lil messy, like me. i promise we'll be back to what you like for chapter 8. feedback is always appreciated, i love to read all of your thoughts )

“No”

Max’s words swirled around Y/N’s head long after he had left. She had asked him if he wanted to come in and he just said no. He didn’t say “I’d love to, but I can’t tonight” he didn’t even say “Thanks but I don’t think I want to, let's take things slow” he just said “No”. Quicky followed up by “Okay, Bye”. She was completely dumbfounded, stood outside her flat; as Max's abrupt departure replayed in her mind, each step he took away from her feeling like a punctuation mark to their strange encounter.

The second she found herself in her flat, the uncorked bottle of wine sat on her kitchen side, beckoned to her, and without much consideration, she filled a glass to the brim. The rich red liquid seemed to mirror the swirling thoughts in her mind, each sip a bitter-sweet reminder of the unexpected turn of events. Tonight was going so well; she didn’t understand what went wrong.

She replayed the encounter in her mind, trying to dissect what had just happened. She felt upset, a sting of rejection cutting through her. Yet, there was also frustration—why couldn't Max have communicated his feelings instead of abruptly walking away. If he didn’t want to take it further, obviously she wouldn’t be mad at that, she’s not a monster; but he could of at least spoke to her about it rather than just walking away.

The room was softly lit, and Y/N continued to sip her wine, lost in her own thoughts. The wine was becoming both a friend and an escape, pulling her further into a comforting haze. The recent complications weighed on her, each sip a fleeting attempt to numb the complexities swirling in her mind.

With each gulp, she dove deeper into her contemplations, navigating through the messy tangle of feelings. Life, once simple, now felt like a puzzle missing a few crucial pieces. The familiar sounds of laughter and joy were replaced by a haunting silence, broken only by the occasional clink of the glass against the table and the distant hum of the city outside.

The glass became a conduit for her musings, carrying the weight of her thoughts as she pondered the unexpected twists, the encounters that left her head spinning, and the undeniable shifts in relationships. Everything seemed burdened, complicated. As the night wore on, the glass emptied, and her thoughts grew hazier. Eventually, the weight became too much. She remembered sinking into the cushions of her sofa, the glass slipping from her fingers. Sleep claimed her, the complexities of life blending into dreams until the room was wrapped in a deep, velvety darkness.

The next few days passed, and the day of the first Chelsea game of the season quickly rolled around. As Y/N prepared for the match, the uncertainty surrounding Max lingered in her thoughts. The absence of any communication since the peculiar end to their evening left her grappling with a myriad of unanswered questions. She couldn’t bring herself to messaging him first, after all she was left with quite the bruised ego when he left like he did; so, the silence from Max had become a palpable void, and she started to accept the possibility that she might never receive the answers she sought.

Dressed in her favorite Chelsea shirt, with Mount 19 proudly displayed on the back; she made her way to the staduim, trying her best to push everything she felt about Max down to the pit of her stomach so she could be in the right frame of mind to not only support Mason but the whole team.

At Stamford Bridge, the buzz of anticipation hung in the air. Y/N took her seat in the family box, surrounded by the sea of Chelsea blue. Beside her, Louisa, Ben's girlfriend, struck up a conversation.

"Did you ever find out what was wrong with Mason that night at the gala?" Louisa inquired, her eyes fixed on the pitch as the players warmed up.

Y/N shook her head, her gaze following the familiar figure of Mason on the field. "No, I tried asking the next day, but he wouldn't say anything. It's been a bit weird since then."

As the game kicked off, Y/N found herself immersed in the ebb and flow of the match. The energy in the stadium was electric, and emotions swirled with each pass and tackle. Chelsea was facing Liverpool, a formidable opponent, and every moment felt charged with anticipation.

The clock ticked away, and tension mounted as both teams vied for control. Then, a surge of jubilation erupted through the stands. Mason had scored, his name echoing through the stadium as fans erupted in cheers. Chelsea took the lead, and the scoreboard displayed a triumphant 1-0.

Amidst the celebration, Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Mason's goal was a bright spot in a narrative that had become increasingly complex, and as the final whistle blew, sealing Chelsea's victory, for once Y/N just let herself feel happy; freeing her momentarily of the stress of day to day life. Her team had just won a very important game, and her best friend was the reason for that.

The vibrant cheers echoed through the stadium as Chelsea celebrated a hard-fought victory against Liverpool. Mason, the star of the match, was awarded the title of man of the match, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she made her way down to the pitch to assist him with media obligations.

Amid the chaos of jubilant players and buzzing journalists, Y/N found Mason, his face adorned with a triumphant smile. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, offering a congratulatory kiss on his cheek. The elation of the win permeated the air as they navigated through the sea of celebrations.

Once Mason had spoken to seemingly every media outlet in the UK and was ready to head to the changing rooms, the rest of the team had been and gone. Anticipating this, Mason invited Y/N to come in with him as he got ready rather than her waiting outside for him.

Mason was midway through changing when Y/N decided to seize the quiet moment and address the lingering tension from the gala. Maybe there would have been a better time to do that rather than when Mason was stood shirtless only wearing a pair of football shorts, but Y/N was never one for picking her moments well.

"Mason, what was wrong with you the other night? You seemed so sad." she ventured, her tone a mix of firmness and concern.

Mason, in his usual deflective manner, offered a unconvincing, vague explanation about being stressed. But Y/N, remembering the promise they made after their tumultuous encounter in Spain, was determined to dig deeper.

"Come on, we promised each other after Spain that we would be more open," she reminded him, the charged atmosphere subtly drawing them closer.

He glanced at her, the defensive facade momentarily faltering. The seconds ticked by, intensifying the electric tension between them. Y/N, her voice now a gentle yet insistent whisper, pressed on.

"Tell me, Mason. I need to understand," she implored, their faces now only inches apart. As he sighed, wrestling with his internal turmoil, Y/N's hand found his, pulling him back towards her. Their proximity became palpable, both aware of the unspoken emotions lingering in the air.

"It was hard, okay?" Mason finally admitted, breaking the silence. "Seeing you with Max, all close and flirty. It messed with my head."

The confession hung in the air, a vulnerable admission. Y/N, her voice nothing more than a whisper, continued her quest for understanding.

"Why would that be hard for you?"

Mason, caught between the desire to retreat and the need for honesty, hesitated. Y/N, sensing the gravity of the moment, held onto his hand, their connection unspoken but profound. Their eyes locked, and Mason slowly, almost hesitantly, began to lean down, his eyes never leaving hers and his hands coming up to cradle her face. Time seemed to stretch, the anticipation building with each passing second.

Then, all at once, his lips met hers in a kiss that held the weight of unspoken emotions. It was a collision of feelings, a dance of two souls navigating the uncharted territory of their connection.

As their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, it was as if the world around them slowed down. Mason's touch was gentle, almost cautious, as if he was testing the waters of Y/N's response. His lips moved against hers with a delicate grace, and for a moment, the kiss hung in the air like a fragile connection.

But as Y/N's hands found their way into Mason's hair, threading through the strands, the nature of the kiss shifted. The softness gave way to a growing passion, a shared desire that couldn't be contained. Mason, feeling the response from Y/N, allowed himself to be pulled into the depths of the kiss. It became more than a simple meeting of lips; it turned into a dance of longing and unspoken emotions.

Their connection deepened, and the kiss became more fervent, more desperate, as if they were trying to convey all the unspoken words and unexpressed feelings through the intimacy of the moment and quickly things progressed with Y/N breaking their contact to pull her shirt over her head, leaving her stood there in just a Chelsea blue bra and skirt she wore to the game.

For the first time since he kissed her, Y/N made eye contact, gone were his soft, honey coloured eyes, replaced by dark orbs staring down at her. It was like he was trying to take a mental image of the woman standing in front of him, lips swollen and parted, very slightly panting from the breathlessness that came from kissing him.

A second passed where the pair just stood in front of each other, almost as if they were giving each other one last chance to back out before things went beyond the point of no return. The silence was deafening and after a beat they reattached themselves to each other, with Mason pulling her onto him as he backed up onto a bench and sat down, bringing her with him onto his lap. His lips finding her collarbone as his hands grabbed her ass. The way his expert lips sucked and nibbled her neck sent shockwaves through her body and she found herself grinding herself against his lap, desperate for anything that would help the dull ache coming from between her legs, eliciting a low moan from the man beneath her.

It was evident the effect that Y/N was having on Mason from the growing hardness that she could feel under her, and when she removed herself off of his lap and dropped down to her knees Mason had thought he had died and gone to heaven. For the first time since Mason had kissed her, one of them spoke, “Is this okay?” she asked him, her hands hovering just above the place where he needed her the most, prompting him to nod his head ferociously. “Yeah it’s good”

With that conformation, Y/N settled herself between his legs on the floor and began to place soft barely-there kisses down his stomach until she reached the waistband of his shorts. Mason was squirming, she hadn’t even touched him yet, but she seemed to have full control of him, something he had never experienced before. The second that Y/N’s hands went to lightly tug at his shorts, Mason was lifting himself of the bench, allowing her to pull down his shorts and underwear in one go.

The sight of Mason’s dick slapping his stomach as his shorts were pulled down was one to behold. Y/N would be lying if she said she had never imagined this, put one thing she never considered was that he would be this big. She watched the way it throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the way a bead of precum spilt from his tip. And then in a move that made Mason whine, she placed her hands at the base of his dick, and darted her tongue out to catch the droplet. The taste of him was musky, almost sweet; and the most addictive thing she had ever experienced. She went in again, very slowly placing her mouth around his tip and swirling her tongue around it.

“Oh fuck Y/N yo-” Mason’s voice was deeper than she had ever heard as he called out for her, but when she took him further in her mouth, his voice gave out. His hands found her hair, grabbing in into a makeshift ponytail as she continued to bob her head up and down on his dick, swirling her tongue as she did so.

It was becoming all too much for Mason, the sight of his best friend on her knees for him, making him feel this good. He quickly found himself close to cumming, but not wanting this to be over, he used his grip on her hair to gently pull her off of him.

“That felt so good baby, but I don’t want to cum yet” he told her when he caught sight of her pouting at the loss of contact.

“I need to be inside of you Y/N, need to know how you’d feel squeezing tight against me” His words were sinful, and they made her desperate for him. He stood up, grabbing her hand to bring her up from her knees to before gesturing at her to sit down in the place he had vacated. Then he dropped to his knees, placed her legs over his shoulder and moved the fabric of her skirt out of the way, letting him see her soaked through panties.

He dived in, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on her clothed pussy, running his finger ever so gently across her, before hooking it under her underwear and pulling them off. The sight of her cunt, glistening and wet made him again, wish he could take photos with his mind. Never wanting to lose this image for so long as he lived.

“Please Mase” Y/N spoke, her voice breathy and desperate.

Mason didn’t need to be asked twice, bringing his mouth to her, licking a long strip across her slit before attaching his lips to her clit. The way he sucked at and nibbled her sensitive bud made her see stars. And when he brought his hand up to start pumping his fingers inside of her whilst still attacking her clit with his mouth, she quickly found herself close to the edge. His expert fingers curving up to her, making her legs tremble and her toes curl.

“Oh Masey, I’m so close please don’t stop” she whined in between heavy breaths. At her words, Mason sped up his actions, bringing her closer and closer to cumming until she finally reached her climax with a squeal, trapping Masons head between her legs as she squeezed them together in the sheer exstacy she was feeling.

Once she had released her grip on the man's head, he came up to kiss her, the kiss was needy and desperate, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was utterly filthy, and she never wanted it to end. If she could, she would stay in this moment with Mason forever, wrapped up in him and their pleasure, nothing else. Nothing complicated or uncomfortable, just simply pleasure.

Mason pulled himself off of her lips and took his place back on the bench, swiftly pulling her onto his lap. His manhood nudging itself against her warm core. His lips reattached themselves to her neck, suckling and biting; leaving marks peppered against her skin. He pulled back and admired his work, admired how good her skin looked littered with his marks, the way it made her look like she was his, she was only his.

“I’m going to fuck you now, is that okay?” Mason said, reaching for his hard dick beneath her, pumping it in his fist, prompting Y/N to nod her head frantically, desperate for him. “No baby I need words, tell me you want this” He spoke again, wanting to be sure that this is what she wanted, wanting to be sure that she wouldn’t regret this.

“I want this, please Mason I want this so bad” she told him, becoming desperate, her wet cunt clenching around nothing in anticipation.

So, Mason did what she asked, and lined up his cock to her pussy, gripped her hips and brought her down onto him; strings of moans and cries falling from both of their mouths as he began to stretch her. Wanting to take control, Y/N placed her hands on Masons chest and began to ride him, grinding down onto him after each bounce. Mason was quickly becoming unglued, the way that that best friend bounced on his dick, clenching around him made him go crazy.

Y/N quickly found herself becoming closer and closer to the edge, and when Mason started to rub circles on her clit, she fell apart. Calling out for the man beneath her as she came on his dick, her cunt squeezing him tight. The sight of Y/N reaching climax meant Mason was not far behind. He spilled out inside of her, filling her up with his cum as he kissed her deeply, moaning into her mouth.

For a second, he stilled inside of her, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath. She kissed him one last time before getting up off of him, feeling his cum run down leg as she did so. She tried to find something to say, anything to say; but she came up with nothing. What could she say? What did this mean? The cloud of lust had dissipated and the gravity of what just happened began to sink in.

After they had come down from the high of the moment before, the air hung heavy with an unspoken tension. As they both processed what had just transpired, a palpable awkwardness settled between them. They found themselves in a silent ballet of getting dressed and composed, each movement filled with uncertainty. The room seemed to echo with the weight of the unspoken. In a fragile quiet, they avoided eye contact, unsure of what to say or how to navigate the aftermath of their unexpected moment together. The atmosphere became a canvas painted with uncertainty, the seconds ticking away in awkward silence.

It was in this vulnerable moment that Ben casually strolled into the changing room, unwittingly disrupting the delicate balance that lingered in the air. "Where've you two got to?" he asked, sensing that something unusual had occurred. Mason responded a little too quickly, "Just got to talking. Lost track of time."

Ben eyed them with a confused look, sensing there was more to it but deciding not to pry. "Well, we're going out for a few drinks to celebrate the win. You two coming?"

Mason nodded, "Yeah, I'll come."

Y/N, still caught in her own thoughts, didn't immediately respond. Ben noticed her distraction and asked, "What about you, Y/N? Coming for a celebratory drink?"

She hesitated, glancing at Mason. "I, uh, I've got some work to do," she started, realizing it was a flimsy excuse.

Ben raised an eyebrow, "Work? On a match day? Come on, just one drink."

Caught in the moment and not wanting to draw more attention to herself, Y/N reluctantly agreed, "Fine, just one drink."

The bar buzzed with celebration as the team and their partners reveled in the victory. However, amidst the cheerful atmosphere, an undeniable tension lingered between Mason and Y/N. It wasn't the palpable anger like last time; instead, it felt like an uncharted territory of discomfort, as if both were uncertain of how to address the recent shift in their relationship.

Y/N found herself sitting in a sea of voices, yet she remained silent, her gaze fixed on her drink, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavily. Ben, ever the most observant yet oblivious man in the room, couldn't help but notice a string of subtle marks on Y/N's neck, a telltale sign of a love bite. With a mischievous grin, he couldn't resist teasing her.

He grinned, "Looks like someone had a good time. Max, huh? You guys enjoy yourselves?"

The question hit the room like a sudden chill, drawing Mason's attention. His jaw tightened, and he clasped his glass a bit more firmly, an expression of annoyance flickering across his face. Reece, seated nearby, picked up on Mason's reaction, his eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation by offering a half-hearted explanation. "Oh, that's just a burn from my hair straightener."

Ben, persistent in his teasing, pressed further, noting, "But you have naturally straight hair, don't you?"

Y/N squirmed under the spotlight, feeling the discomfort escalate. "Well, I straighten it every day," she mumbled, her attempt at normalcy faltering. Before Ben could continue his line of inquiry, Y/N's phone rang, offering a timely escape from the awkward conversation. She quickly grabbed her phone, signalling a temporary reprieve from the scrutinizing gazes and the unspoken tension between her and Mason.

The night air felt cool against Y/N's skin as she stepped outside and glanced at her phone, revealing Max's name on the screen. She felt her stomach drop at the sight of his name across her screen; she had accepted that she wouldn’t hear from him again. Hesitating for a moment, she considered not answering, still stung by the abrupt way he left.

Eventually, she sighed and pressed the answer button. "Hi," she greeted cautiously, uncertainty lacing her voice.

"Can we talk?" Max's voice, though warm, carried an undertone of hesitation.

Y/N swallowed, the remnants of hurt and confusion lingering. Nevertheless, she nodded silently, a tentative "yes" escaping her lips.

As Max began to unravel his thoughts, Y/N listened, her emotions swaying with each word. "I'm sorry," he confessed, a heavy sigh preceding the admission. "I panicked that night. I've been bouncing around, one meaningless nightstand after another, and I don't want us to be like that. All I wanted was to stay with you that night, but I want more than just a moment. I want us to be more than that. These feelings make me uncomfortable and weird, and I'm so unsure about everything in life. Except for one thing – I'm sure I want you."

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alovesreading · 4 months

Text

'tis the damn season | Part 1

Summary: Christmas has been your favourite season since you met Ross MacDonald back in Year 9 when you had just moved to Wilmslow, coincidentally on the same road as him. He becomes your very best friend for the rest of high school, but when that ends, life happens and you just can't stop it. And life is certainly cruel to you and Ross. Every December is a reminder of it, somehow always bringing a chance to ruin things even more. After so many mistakes, how can you get back the times you've always cherished with the silly boy with the dimpled smile?

Word count: 16.5k

Warnings: a bit of ansgt. well more than just a bit. @imagine-that-100 and @kennedy-brooke have made it very clear to warn you that they cried (a lot) to this so here's your warning to read this at your own discretion. i promise I'll make it up to you in the next part lol

A/N: Last month I made a poll here to see which Ross fic everyone wanted to see next (since people were asking for more Ross and I had a few fics plotted out but didn't know which to write first) and this one won by a few votes. So here it is, a bit shit and a bit angsty but I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Part 2

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Slowly but surely, Ross MacDonald had made his way into your heart all those years ago.

And it all could be traced back to Christmas day 2002, when an act of kindness set the tone for a friendship that had been silently brewing between the two of you.

You had moved to Wilmslow as soon as you finished Year 8 and the anticipation for the start of Year 9 in a new school had been dreadful.

Thankfully, moving in had kept you and your parents busy enough to hide away in your new house as you waited for the first day of school to arrive.

Your parents hadn’t even pushed you to go out and make friends throughout the horrendously hot weeks of August for they allowed you to settle in the new house—they knew how badly you coped with change, and they were at least being kind enough to leave you to your own devices before school started. You kept your days busy by burying your nose in the few books you’d managed to keep after convincing your mom not to donate the entirety of your bookshelves.

But far too soon, the first day of school loomed on you and the first week at Wilmslow high school had been atrocious.

You kept to yourself like you always did, however, this time, it was an exaggerated amount. But you just felt so out of place, you couldn’t help it.

You’d look up at the sky with a pained expression every time during lunch, when you would finish yet another chapter of a book you’d read over and over since you’d gotten it, asking why? Just why would your parents make you move to a new town, and start from scratch at a new school when you were halfway through high school?

By Year 9, everyone’s friend groups were settled, the last year of school when everyone felt carefree enough to enjoy every single day before having to choose and start working towards getting their GCSEs.

So you felt like a proper outsider, not really welcome, like a new organism trying to push their way into an established ecosystem. And you hated it so much. It only pushed you further into your shell, making you want to disappear and remain under the shadows as you walked through the hallways to get to class, recoiling into yourself when hearing the loud chatter and laughter going on around you, failing horrendously at even smiling when people would make eye contact with you.

You were at least glad that you could walk home to and from school. The few minutes of silence and peace were something you cherished a lot now; the thudding of your leather shoes against the pavement lulling your thoughts as you made your way to the building that you were starting to dread seeing on the daily.

The second week had brought a surprise when you were halfway through yet another read of ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ and a group of girls approached you. You’d flinched when one of them spoke up as they sat around you in a menacing circle.

“S’a bit of a sad read for such a lovely day, no?”

The girl had been kind enough to let out a genuine giggle by the end of her lighthearted words so you braved up enough to put your book down softly and offer her a half smile. You had managed to joke back, a reference to the book that the three girls thankfully caught and then, with an ease that soothed your soul, you found yourself making your first few friends by talking about the books you loved so much.

As the days went by and you found yourself surprised when having people to share lunch with and greet when you got to school, you were sure this was as far as you’d get to with your luck. And, in all honesty, you were grateful. You had never been one to have loads of friends, and even with the few you’d made throughout the years, you knew you weren’t lucky to form strong bonds like everyone else did at your age.

So when you were walking down the roads that lead you to school, the last thing that you were expecting was for the boy who startled your silent and peaceful walk to become your very best friend.

Ross had seen you around school a few times by the end of the first week and the talk about the mysterious new girl had been doing rounds enough for his curiosity to be piqued, when he saw you walking into the house down the road from his house at the start of the second week of the school year.

He had made an effort waking up at a reasonable time and leaving for school way earlier than he always did every morning then, to see if he could catch up with you.

There wasn’t really a plan, there was just his growing curiosity to know about the girl who lived on the opposite corner of the road, the one who walked a block ahead of him every morning and got to school a minute before him, being whisked away by three girls that you gave the honour to see your smile unlike the rest of the students who crossed you through the halls.

One morning in particular, when Ross had just been annoyed at himself for missing you every damn time he walked out of his house, he decided to rush his steps until he reached you. Stumbling the last few and successfully startling you when he managed to catch up to you about a few minutes before you’d get to school.

His mind went blank when you looked at him expectantly for a few seconds, nothing but the birds chirping around you and the sound of cars driving down the roads enveloped you as you waited for a reasoning behind his sudden appearance.

But Ross gave you nothing but a dimpled smile and offered his hand out for you to shake.

Your grip was firm and the smile that broke on your face was as sweet as the ones you gave your new friends.

He foolishly hoped that meant you were friends now, but just to be sure of it, he let you know his name.

“Ross,” he started a bit shaky, clearing his throat before adding, “MacDonald.”

The chortle you gave at his formality made a pinkish blush creep up from his neck to his cheeks.

The sight made you smile a bit harder.

“Y/N,” your voice made him melt. “Y/L/N. If the full legal name is really needed.”

He shook his head at himself, snorting out in laughter and dropping your hand softly. He clenched his fingers in a fist and then loosened it when his arm fell to his side. Even though the day was warm and he didn’t like it at all with the horrendously suffocating uniform they had to wear, he found himself not minding the warmth that holding your hand had brought.

Frowning at the thought, he fell silent just like you did and followed as you resumed your walk.

That was the first day you walked to school together.

Every morning after that, he ran to catch up to you and walk together to school. And little by little, your conversations elongated and you two shared more about yourselves to each other as the days went by.

“So who’s that girl then?” Matty asked one day after seeing you and Ross part ways at the entrance of the school.

Ross tensed at the line of questioning, especially at Matty’s tone and the way he wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“Just my neighbour,” he said almost dismissively. “We walk the same way to school so I bump into her sometimes.”

It wasn’t in bad nature though, he just wanted to keep the details of you that you kept hidden for everyone else to himself. It wasn’t selfish, Ross convinced himself, just giving you the chance to open up to Matty if you ever decided to do that.

But the curly headed boy knew well enough he hadn’t seen you before when he’d come over to the MacDonald’s residence, and he also knew very well that Ross walked into school with you daily. Sometimes my arse.

“Don’t remember seeing her around when I’ve come over to yours.”

Ross held back a huff but he freely let himself roll his eyes, “She’s just moved into the house on the other side of the road from mine.”

Matty hummed, smirking as he looked around until his gaze fell on you, “She’s fit.”

You were laughing with your friends, chatting excitedly as you sorted through your bag and pulled out a book.

Ross frowned at Matty’s comment but not because he disagreed, he actually wholeheartedly thought his friend was right, but because he didn’t like it coming from him.

“Maybe you should introduce us to the other,” Matty added with a cheeky grin when he saw the expression on Ross’ face. “Be a good mate and play cupid for me, MacDonald.”

Ross scoffed loudly at the forward suggestion from his friend. It was settled then, telling Matty you lived in the same road as him and that you’d just moved into town was enough for him to know.

He kept to himself what your favourite movie was, which album you’d last become obsessed with, the names of your friends back home who you didn’t talk to anymore now that you’d moved, how you had broken your arm at five years old in the playground and had put stickers all over your pink cast to show it off at school. Ross definitely wouldn’t tell him how that book had been lent to you by Danielle, one of your new friends, and how you’d stayed up until three in the morning reading it so you had spent half your trip up to school yawning and rubbing your eyes.

Yup. He would definitely keep it all to himself.

And so he did. He kept every bit of yourself that you shared with him to himself and himself only. And along with all those little facts about you, he also kept to himself the way he perked up every time he saw you slowly walking down the pavement, the warmth that spread through him when he saw you smile at him.

He would frown at himself in the mirror when he thought about it at home. He was thirteen years old, there were so many things much more important than thinking about how pretty you were or how your smile made him all gooey inside. He huffed every time, convincing himself he was just being objective and not developing a crush. He liked you as a friend and that was it. He had much more important matters than his feelings, which he definitely didn’t have.

But after the half term break, there was a change that made his stubborn thoughts falter.

He walked out of his house ready to see your figure already ahead of him, ready to power walk his way up to you.

But he saw no one but the trees and bushes lining the road and he deflated instantly.

He thought about walking up to your front door and knocking, asking if you’d gotten ill and you weren’t going to school. He pondered about what could’ve happened as he walked, eyes down as he went over the possibilities.

So he didn’t see you sitting on the step of your front door, waiting for him to walk by.

Taking in his distracted complexion, you decided to startle him right before he walked past your mum’s car.

A loud and slightly high pitched yell stumbled out of his mouth, and you somehow overpowered the sound with a loud fit of laughter that certainly felt like a nice apology for the scare.

You wouldn’t stop giggling about it as you walked to school, somehow managing to make him laugh along despite embarrassment tinting his cheeks red. Ross had never heard you laugh this much in his presence so he’d let you indulge in it, and when he did, you let yourself grow more comfortable around him.

He felt it from the way you’d now wait for him to walk by sitting on the step of your front door every morning, and how you’d greet him with a smile and an excited, “Hey!” He felt it from the way you’d lean into him as you walked, how you’d nudge his hip with yours when you’d tease him.

Just like you had done one day when you asked about the band.

“So he got promoted, huh?”

Your question had been thrown out into the chilly air of early November, suddenly and without context, so Ross looked at you confused and asked, “Who?”

His group of friends and yours didn’t really share much at all. Whilst you and your friends shared the growing love for books and films, you knew Ross was in a band with some of his friends and they were always messing about, playing video games or going to the skate park, if they were not recording themselves covering songs like the Ghostbusters theme song, which you’d seen on myspace, or just rehearsing in someone’s garage.

So you knew a little about the band from the few videos that went around the school, seeing them hidden away in the music room at school sometimes, or just the talk going around the halls. It was exactly the gossip which had brought the piece of information to your attention and you’d been curious about what had gotten Elliot, some lad who sang for their band, to quit in the middle of rehearsal and left that job open for his friend, who you knew played the drums, to take it.

“Your friend, the one with the curly hair and glasses? Used to be on the drums until a few days ago no? Or so the chatter going ‘round says.”

Recognition melted the frown away from his face, “Oh Matty? Yeah, yeah. We got George in the band now. T’was sorta logistically impossible to have Matty singing and on the drums at the same time. He had to do one thing at a time for it to properly work.”

You hummed, cocking your head as you took in the information. It made sense. “How’s that arrangement going on then?”

“Erm, well he likes being up on the front. The attention and all.” Ross joked a little, even though it was mostly true.

You snorted out in laughter, “Yeah I bet.”

He hummed as if asking for you to elaborate.

“He looks like he likes attention. Not a bad thing, just–” you stuttered as you tried to look for the words, settling for, “It’s funny to watch, s’all."

Ross snorted as he nodded, “It is.”

Already seeing Jodie, Sarah and Danielle waiting for you by the school entrance, you turned to look at him and offered him a cheeky grin to play, “Good luck with that then, MacDonald. Don’t let him steal your spotlight too much.”

It was things like that that you’d say that would stay with him for days in the forefront of his mind. Weeks swirling around his subconscious and keeping him up at night, nothing really came from thinking about them so much, only the need to spend more and more time with you but he had no clue how or when to even suggest that.

The need only grew stronger when the holiday break came around and Ross hadn’t seen you in five days. Sure, two of those were the weekend but he had only really endured going without seeing you on the weekends, reuniting with your voice and your smile and your laughter the following Monday.

So Ross had been thinking about how he could even come around to seeing you during the holidays. Especially since it was actually Christmas day.

He could knock on your door, easily, but then what would he do? Was he coming over just to say hello? What if one of your parents answered the door? What was he trying to do? What excuse could he have?

Turns out, he didn’t have to think of an excuse because as he walked back home from Matty’s, Ross found you grumpily walking back home too.

He called out your name in the distance and thankfully, you heard him enough to turn around to see him and stop in your tracks.

It wasn’t until he was next to you that he said, “Why the long face? It’s Christmas.”

You could hear the hint of playfulness in his voice, but the annoyance that filled you mixed with a bit of sadness so you couldn’t find it in yourself to play along.

Instead, you sighed and shoved your gloved hands back inside your coat’s pockets. Shivering, you replied, “I know. There’s always a Grinch though, no?”

He nudged your hip with his, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth as he joked, “Doubt you’ve just stolen all the village’s gifts.”

When you only gave him a soft chuckle that got lost in the sound of the wind, he turned serious and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath so you didn’t let it get to you again, you took a second before explaining, “Mum’s forgotten to buy the potatoes and sent me out on the impossible quest of finding some at a quarter past four on the 25th of December.”

Ross gave you a soft, understanding smile then. “Ah, so no potatoes acquired.”

“Not one,” you mumbled in despair, shivering again when a cold rush of wind blew the hoodie off your head.

He had to hold himself back from throwing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into him. All to help you get warm, of course. But he thought against it at the last second, instead thinking about what he could do to help.

“You know, me mum always buys way more than needed. It’s only us three so she definitely has some to spare.”

Horrified at the thought of taking from what should be his Christmas dinner, you quickly dismissed his suggestion. “No, Ross. It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

But Ross wouldn’t accept no for an answer. Kissing his teeth as he shook his head, he nudged your hip again, a cheeky grin on his face, “C’mon Y/N, today’s all about giving, is it not?”

Damn him and that dimpled smile that made it so easy for you to smile back. You hummed as you pressed your lips, trying not to beam at him too brightly but letting him win, “I guess it is.”

It was strange walking up the road and past your house. You had waited outside but still gasped under your breath at the glimpse of his house all decorated when he walked in through the door. When he closed the door behind him as his mum peeked her head out of the kitchen door, you sighed out in relief. Yes, he was your friend now but you were far too shy to go in and meet his parents only to take their potatoes.

Your cheeks and neck warmed with a flush that went all through your body when you thought about how he’d be telling his mum about the vegetables. God, how fucking embarrassing. You were cursing your mum’s forgetfulness in your mind when Ross walked back out, a bag of potatoes in hand.

You wanted earth to open up and swallow you whole.

But when that didn’t happen, you accepted the bag with a genuine smile and thanked Ross profusely. He said it was alright over and over but your mind was going over how you could repay it already.

An idea sparked in your head just as he was waving off yet another thank you that stumbled out of your lips, so with a sudden hurry, you wished him and his family a merry Christmas and walked back home.

A handful of hours later, you were back at his door. This time with your hands full, holding a tray of way too many Christmas cookies for three people.

“Special delivery?” You muttered softly, holding up the tray towards Ross as he peeled the door open further when seeing it was you.

He walked out, brave enough to face the bitter cold of the night without a proper coat. In just a beige knitted sweater, he rubbed his hands to warm them as he frowned, “What’s this?”

“Cookies, of course,” you replied with sarcasm dripping thick from your words. Ross glared at you, unimpressed by your answer and making you sigh, correcting yourself, “A thank you.”

“I told you it was alright.”

You knew he meant it but when you came back home, bag of potatoes in hand, your mum had gasped in surprise at you actually managing to get them. Not allowing her to get excited about being right about maybe the corner shop being open, you let your annoyance be known as you told her what had actually happened: you’d walked to the shops in the freezing cold for no reason because they were all closed like you very much knew they’d be, but Ross had been the one to give her the bag of vegetables. Just like you’d been thinking of doing already, your mum suggested making something extra to send over to Ross’ family as a thank you.

So here you were, with a double batch of sprinkled sugar cookies that you’d just taken out of the oven about twenty minutes before, standing in front of the MacDonald’s home, trying to get Ross to accept a humble—and quite tasty—offering as a thank you for his help.

“Well today’s about giving, isn’t it Ross?”

He couldn’t help but smile when hearing you use his very own words to push him into gracefully accepting the sweet treats. And so the only way to answer was by using your very own answer from earlier, “I guess it is.”

“Then take them, please.”

Truth be told, you had gotten to work on them quickly after going back home. It was a recipe you knew by heart so it wasn’t hard for you to make batch after batch. Your parents had been happily having some with hot chocolate whilst you’d come to deliver Ross the cookies you’d made for him and his family.

Ross smiled brightly, “Thank you, you’re a sweetheart.”

Your cheeks had warmed at the pet name, he’d never referred to you any other way than your name.

It was to be expected that the stupid smile on your face didn’t leave you until you went to sleep that night, and you’d been replaying him calling you that in your mind over and over.

You didn’t really see him after Christmas, not even on New Year’s Eve or New Year’s day, so you had to wait for the first day back at school to see him. To hear his voice, watch that infectious smile of his break on his face.

But on Monday, you waited for him far too long, sat on the step by your front door until it got late. You had walked to school alone, quickly and panicking as you tried not to be late but also worried about what could’ve happened with him.

Everything was alright though, Ross had just stupidly slept in until his mum startled him out of bed when he was already running late. He’d gotten dressed in record time, and basically ran to school and barely made it. There wasn’t any sense of relief overcoming him when he made it just in time, he was filled with dread after having missed your daily morning walk together, the one he’d been looking forward to since he’d gotten a taste of those cookies you made—he had basically hoarded them and left his parents only a handful to eat, they all had reached the conclusion that you’d done amazingly with the cookies and that it had been incredibly sweet of you to drop them off for them; so he really needed to tell you all that.

To his dismay, Ross didn’t see you at all throughout the day. So when the school day was over and everyone spilled out of the building, he rushed outside to catch you before you left for home.

In the distance, you heard him yell out your name and even your friends froze in their places beside you.

They smirked when you all turned around to see him clumsily breaking through the crowd to get to you, wiggles of their eyebrows and widening eyes letting you know that they were definitely curious about what was going on for your ‘walking-to-school buddy’, as they’d nicknamed him, to be so desperate to find you.

Waving them off and forcing them to say goodbye, you walked away from them and tilted your head slightly so Ross would follow you along as you started walking away from school.

The apology was imminent, you just didn’t know it would come this quickly, “M’so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t hear my alarm and slept in.” He took a deep breath when he got to your side and added, “Mum had to wake me up, fucking hell. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten dressed this quickly in my life.”

You laughed at him, the way his eyes flashed with dread at the recount of his morning.

He continued explaining, for no reason other than feeling like you deserved the whole truth behind it, “We got fucking plastered on New Year’s at Matty’s. Fully had to take a few days to recover from that nightmare of a hangover, but I’m still feeling rough so I just kept sleeping.”

Another string of giggles fell from your lips, “Right.”

Despite still being very sure of wanting to keep Matty away from you, Ross couldn’t help but suggest, “You should come along next year. You’d enjoy yourself.” He had been thinking about how it could’ve been with you there the whole time—or at least until he blacked out—, wishing he had invited you over. So he did just that, but just in case, he added, “Plus the guys are funny, even though they can be really obnoxious.”

Amused, you looked at him with raised brows and a cheeky grin, “I think Adam should be exempt from that.”

You had met Adam at school, he had been kind enough to say hello one day in the halls knowing that you were one of Ross’ friends, and he’d been really sweet chatting to you from time to time when you bumped into him around school. He definitely was nothing like Matty or George, who you’d seen causing ruckus around the place a fair few times.

At the dig, Ross asked, “What about me?”

But you tried taunting him by ignoring his inquiry and saying, “I'll be counting down the next 365 days,” successfully accepting his invitation over to Matty’s for the welcome of the next year.

Frozen in his place, his mouth fell agape at your blatant dismissal of his words, and so you left him behind with a chuckle, continuing walking towards your house.

From behind you, you heard him ask again, a bit louder this time, “Oi! What about me?”

You just laughed, shaking your head and not turning to see him. He had run up to you and poked your side as payback, making you squeal in surprise.

Your laughter hadn’t stopped until you were almost halfway to your house and answering his question had been long forgotten.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The weeks that followed that first Christmas had seen you and Ross becoming proper friends and causing a domino effect on the mixing of your friend groups. Friendships bloomed easily when everyone started hanging out together thanks to you and Ross wanting to share more time together other than your walks to and from school.

It was an odd group of people, but you managed to bring out different sides of each other and it was pure laughter and joy every time.

Before you knew it, birthdays, half term breaks, weekends, Halloweens, and evenings after school were spent with you all together. Messing about, watching the guys rehearse in Matty’s garage, being front row in every gig they played, helping each other study for your GCSEs, coming over to watch films and sneaking out to the skatepark.

But when December came around and school had closed for Holiday break, you realised that it was that time of the year that would become your absolute favourite.

For Christmas 2003, you had made sure to make something for his family again. After Ross had told you how much his family had enjoyed the cookies you’d made, you wanted to surprise them with something again; even if this year you’d made sure your mum didn’t forget a single thing for your Christmas dinner so you weren’t asking for something back from the MacDonalds.

You had made a glorious batch of Yorkshire pudding that Ross and his parents enjoyed thoroughly with their gravy. You’d told your mum how surprised and grateful your neighbours had been for the treat, and you were secretly hoping Ross would come knocking on your door to tell you how they found your cooking but you had been the one surprised instead when Ross had come over on Boxing day morning with a delicious English trifle that his mum made as a thank you.

After having a healthy portion of dessert, you had basically dragged Ross upstairs to show him the presents you had gotten that year, and he had enjoyed every second with a silly grin on his face.

He hadn’t missed a beat to invite you over to his house so he could show you what he had gotten that year. But you hadn’t been allowed to leave before your mum could take a few pictures of you and Ross with the brand new Polaroid camera your dad had spoiled her with that year.

Her obsession with hanging mistletoe had ended up with Ross kissing your cheek for a picture after your mum had cheekily pointed out you were standing right below it.

You had felt the burning imprint of his lips on the skin of your cheek for hours as you were thrown on his bed admiring the beauty of his new bass, hearing him tune the instrument and practise the songs he knew how to play so well with what he had been obnoxiously referring to as his new ‘baby’.

That afternoon you had gone to Matty’s house, the rest of your friend group arrived shortly after you and Ross, and soon enough you started exchanging the gifts you’d gotten each other. The presents weren’t big or something too special, you all had to make due with your pocket money, but it had brought you so much happiness to see everyone’s reactions to what the other’s had gotten for them.

The days in between Boxing day and New Year’s Eve had been spent with either you over at Ross’ house or him over at yours.

By then, it wasn’t odd to spend time at each other’s houses, watching films and eating chips or helping each other with homework and studying. But the cold December had assured that every time you fell asleep as you watched a film in your room or his, you’d wake up cuddling tightly to keep warm.

It was a drastic change to wake up with your limbs tangled together instead of your heads resting on the other’s shoulder like it had happened before. So the first time it had happened, the two of you had jumped away from the other like you’d just been shocked by electricity. The truth was that a buzz had gone through your body to every single one of your nerve endings and you both had felt it, it was obvious in the foolish grins that you tried to hide as you apologised to each other.

But it was tempting to get lost in the feeling, and it proved impossible for you to have the heart to stop it from happening when you woke up resting on Ross’ chest, his arms around your waist to keep you in place and your legs tangled together.

You had blinked awake and seen the situation in which you were stuck in, and despite knowing it would be best to peel yourself away from him as your heartbeat grew louder in your ears, you just couldn’t do it.

Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall back asleep and leave the decision for Ross to make. Yet, he had felt you stir in his hold and it only took him a few seconds to wake up.

He groaned lowly and you felt your face heat up at the sound rumbling through his chest under your cheek. This was definitely not helping you ignore the way his presence had started making you fluster and get giddy every time, not helping the need to spend all of your time with him; definitely not helping your thoughts from going to a conversation with your friends who were willing to bet that you had a crush on Ross.

Softly you apologised and went to push yourself away from him, but Ross held you tighter and shook his head, half lidded eyes that fought against his sleepy haze on you with determination.

“Don’t. You’re so cosy.”

It was clearer than ever that you couldn’t say no to him and it made you curse at yourself in your mind.

By the time New Year’s Eve came, you and Ross had made it a habit to cuddle whenever either of you was at the other’s house, and with the cuddles came the need to have the other close at all times.

Therefore, you were glued to each other for the entirety of Matty’s house party. Even when one of you ran to the bathroom to be sick—yes, one if not the both of you, would definitely be shit faced before midnight—, the other was there to help.

When the countdown happened, you would laugh at the crowd of drunk teenagers trying to properly sync up to the clock. And when midnight struck, you’d all go around the room to clumsily hug everyone and wish them a happy new year.

And, of course, when you would wake up after knocking out on one of the settees, you’d be cuddling Ross tightly into you like you had grown used to doing in the past couple of days.

When the holiday season of 2004 came around, everything you had done the year before had become a tradition. From making something for the other’s family to spending the lazy morning of Boxing day together, walking over to Matty’s house side by side with the gifts for your friends in hand, spending the days leading up to New Year’s Eve together and then going over to the Healy’s residence to get pissed as you welcomed the new year.

You found yourself wishing for every year to be the same.

Your heart swelled in your chest when December 2005 loomed around the corner, and your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled when your traditions continued just the same during Holiday break.

Another recipe was made as you tried to impress the MacDonalds, another picture of kisses on cheeks was added to the collection, another handful of presents bought for your friends, another show and tell of your gifts thrown for Ross, many more movies watched as you nuzzled in his neck, another countdown shouted with your best of friends, another hangover cured with Ross’ help.

But everything was slightly different this time around, for 2006 meant that this would be your last Holiday season at home before you were off to university. And though you were definitely coming back home to celebrate the Holidays every year, it was different enough to make it a proper last celebration.

That meant Ross and his parents coming over for Christmas dinner at your house.

“Wish we had done this sooner,” you tell Ross as you cut pieces of the sticky toffee pudding you made earlier today.

He hums beside you, sliding a plate closer to you so you could place the first piece down, “Me too.”

It’s hard not to be nostalgic already when you’re all chatting and laughing together, your chest feels heavy as you long for a memory in the making, one that you know you will cherish forever, even if you don’t have to because you’re sure you won’t ever have to spend the Christmas holidays without Ross—you’re determined to never let that happen.

Everyone sitting around the table showers you in compliments for the delicious dessert you’ve made, Ross’ mum asking for the recipe while everyone else asks for seconds.

“Can I get a double serving, sweetheart? You know, since I’m your favourite person here.”

You roll your eyes at him, but Ross knows far too well that you can’t say no to him. Not when he calls you that.

He could admit that sometimes he uses the pet name selfishly, but most of the time is just to see how you squirm under his gaze, completely unable to keep your cool.

Ross thinks you’re so fucking cute.

He has been for a while. And that crush he knew he had on you, only grew stronger and deeper the more days he spent in your presence.

Matty had said once that Ross was in love with you and the bassist had never been more grateful that his best mate had at least waited until you were out of hearing distance for him to point that out.

But that comment swirled in the back of Ross’ head ever since it had fallen from Matty’s lips and it echoed loudly in his mind when you were near him, and it got horrendously louder when you were cuddling or hugging him.

Just like you are right now as you pose for your mum’s camera.

That Polaroid which had been the reason for your growing collection of pictures with you and Ross as the main focus of the frame. From your birthday pictures to pictures your mum had sneakily taken when the two of you fell asleep on the settee, pictures of you in your fancy dresses before you were off to a house party for Halloween and all of your Christmas pictures throughout the years.

Your arms are wrapped around Ross’ waist, one of his hands over your hands as if to keep you there and his other arm over your shoulder. The smiles are wide on your faces for the first picture but you know what’s happening next. Like clockwork, Ross is pressing his lips on your cheek for the yearly kiss picture you take under the mistletoe that hangs above you.

Mockingly, really.

Because Ross has long gotten tired of kissing your cheek, he wants to kiss you properly under the mistletoe and has been wanting to since the second time your mum made the two of you pose for pictures under the hanging arrangement of little branches. He remembered the twinkling lights around your house reflecting on your pretty eyes and he was gone; his lips itched to press on yours but he had held back, only because your mum was always right there.

But this time the obnoxious whirring of the empty camera alerts you all that the film has run out and your mum excuses herself to make a dash upstairs and get a new pack, warning you to stay right there for her.

You loosen up your embrace and let your arms fall limply on your sides to give Ross his space until your mum is back but he frowns as he looks at you and scorns, “Where are you going?”

It isn’t like you are leaving though, you’re staying right beside him but letting him free for a minute or two because you know how annoying your mum can get about pictures and how, despite his lack of comment on it, he only just tolerates it.

“She’s gonna take a while. We’ll pose again when she’s back.”

He huffs under his breath because he really didn’t want you to stop hugging him. But he takes the moment to look up the stairs as the noise of your mum making a clutter in her room as she looks for her film bounces down the halls and reaches the two of you. A loud ‘for fucks sake’ is heard from upstairs and your best friend hears you snort beside him.

Just when he was about to look back at you, Ross catches a glimpse of the neatly hung arrangement of mistletoe and, now really aware of the fact that your mum is out of sight and both your dads are heavily engrossed in conversation far away from where you stand, he knows this is the moment he’s been wishing for.

The feeling of his hands coming up to your face surprises you, but what’s more surprising is seeing him slowly leaning into you and you do nothing to stop it.

How could you stop it? When it’s something you’ve been thinking about obsessively for months now. The feelings that he brought you only heightened with time and you didn’t do anything about it other than keep it to yourself and sigh endlessly as you thought about him every day when you were alone in your room, writing everything down on your battered old diary.

Ross pauses when your noses brush, your breaths mixing with him this close to you and he’s about to ask when you just nod, almost missable if his forehead wasn’t pressed against yours and the movement causes his own head to move.

That was all he needed to close the distance and your heart explodes in your chest when his lips press against yours and his stubble itches your face as he starts to move his mouth on yours.

It’s quick because your mum’s footsteps coming quickly down the hall startle the two of you away from each other, but the kiss is enough to assure you two that the crushes you had on each other are much more than that.

And your mum captures the foolish smiles on your faces when that notion becomes apparent to you and Ross. This time, a kiss falls on Ross’ cheeks and your mum coos loudly at the dimpled loopy smile that breaks on his face.

You don’t say anything, because you really don’t know what can be said, and Ross doesn’t either, so you go on about the rest of the night like nothing’s happened. But the ache in your cheeks from how much you two are grinning dares to say otherwise.

Neither of you says a thing when the night’s wrapped up and you say goodbye. Ross really has to hold back from stealing another kiss from your lips when he hugs you goodbye, the attentive gaze of your and his parents posing a burden for his growing need to do that again.

But even the next morning, he’s wary of trying his luck again and, since you’re expecting him to make the first move again, you stop yourself from getting your hopes up and put it down to him just getting excited about standing under the mistletoe. After all, it is the rules of that tradition. So yes, you’re blaming it all on the mistletoe and you hope that singular word is enough of a bandaid on the little crack of your heart.

Yet, the heartache that the rest of Boxing day brings is a different and much stronger one when you and your friends are all splayed around Matty’s living room with sad smiles on your faces after having exchanged presents.

“It’s okay. We’re all coming back every Christmas and it’ll never change,” says Danielle, hoping that saying it aloud makes it become real.

The weight of the fact that half of you will be leaving town in September and it will all change, because growing up has been something none of you could avoid and life moves on, and unfortunately you have to move on too.

It’s somehow harder knowing that it’s you moving away. Matty had managed to convince the guys’ parents that the band was going to be a thing, something huge in no time, and therefore getting Adam and Ross to stay in Wilmslow—George was still dealing with his GCSEs, but even he wasn’t planning on doing his A Levels and going off to uni.

The thought of leaving everyone else behind, once again, makes you shake from anxiety when you think too much about it.

Losing all these people is enough of a nightmare to make your eyes well up with tears, ones you struggle to keep from spilling down your cheeks when everyone promises to be back every Christmas, speaking out what their plans will be for when the time comes.

Ross throws his arm around your shoulders when he hears you sniffle, hugging you into his side. That’s enough for you to start crying and in a matter of seconds everyone is suffocating you in a group hug.

It’s settled then that everyone is gonna make the most out of the rest of the week and your annual New Year’s Eve house party will be one to remember, to part with the best memories and only make the following years even better.

And you do just that.

Instead of spending the days leading up to New Year’s Eve with Ross, the rest of your friend group sticks together and you all spend the days in different houses, watching movies, messing about, playing video games. A few afternoons you all escape to the skatepark and hide away to smoke or drink, enjoying the last bits of the togetherness that you have a bad feeling will be broken despite the promises.

When the 31st of December approaches, and you walk into Matty’s house with Ross behind you, you gasp seeing the scene set up for the night.

There’s much more alcohol than needed for how many of you there will be, rolled spliffs on the coffee table ready for anyone to smoke, an unnecessary amount of snacks that you know will do absolutely no help to help you from getting pissed quickly.

You’re grateful you ate enough to survive a few hours of drinking before blacking out, if it even gets to that point. Unfortunately, George can’t say the same because by the time everyone has arrived at Matty’s, he’s already stumbling around the place with those silly giggles of his stumbling out at absolutely everything around him.

Everyone else followed, knocking back drink after drink and smoking to their heart’s content until there’s nothing but loud laughter and yelling, and the place is trashed by careless teenage behaviour.

It’s wild to say the least, everyone is on the verge of losing memory of the night with every shot and puff they take, the drinking games do not help in the slightest and George has been picked up from having passed out on the bushes twice already.

No one really is sober enough to care about the countdown. Matty and George being the menacing duo they are when intoxicated are entertaining everyone inside with the shit they spout, everyone’s eyes are on them like they’re the most captivating clowns anyone has ever seen, getting loud laughs from everyone.

But despite the amount you and Ross have drank, you’ve got enough grasp on your logic to walk out and close the door behind you, ready to watch the fireworks go off as everyone greets the new year.

Ross lights up a cigarette beside you and takes a long drag with an ease that makes you roll your eyes. You’ve always struggled when smoking with them, trying to take a drag of a spliff always ended with you erupting in a horrendous fit of coughs that end up hurting your chest, you were a bit better with cigarettes, only that meant you coughed a little less and you could take multiple drags of it instead of just the one.

He still offers you it, knowing that since you’re drunk you are most likely to crave a puff or two. Your fingers pluck it out of his accompanied with a soft, “Thanks.” that he smiles at.

As expected, you cough when the smoke hits the back of your throat but you don’t give it back, you hold your breath to stop yourself from coughing and try again. This time it burns way less so you can let the smoke go down until you can relish in the feeling and then let it out upwards.

Ross is staring at you with glistening eyes, fighting a grin that wants to break on his face just from seeing you like this. He finds even the most mundane things you do so incredibly endearing, it’s tragic how much of a hold you have on him and he just can’t stop it nor does he want to.

Yet, the real tragedy is that he doesn’t know exactly what to do. He knows what he wants to do: kiss you and cuddle you, hold your hand in school, have you close to him all the time; but he has no idea how to make that happen.

And time is ticking now, your imminent goodbye looming on him like a dark cloud in the horizon and he can’t help but think it might be stupid to risk your friendship selfishly when it’s soon that you’ll be gone.

But when everyone inside starts counting down in a horribly loud and drunk choir, Ross is brought out of his head. There you stand in front of him, fingers holding out the cigarette for him to take, a smirk on your face as you wiggle the stick for him to take, and there’s only one thing that Ross is thinking.

After that taste on Christmas day, he can’t just let this opportunity go. Not when it’s set so perfectly for him to make the move.

Ten, nine, eight…

He steps right in front of you, plucking the cigarette out of your hand and tossing it to the ground before wrapping an arm around your waist, his right hand coming to cup your face.

Seven, six, five, four…

Your breath leaves you in a gasp, your mouth hanging open as he starts leaning in. Your gazes stuck on the other, pupils dilating as the moment you’ve been both thinking about for days seems to happen all over again.

Three, two, one…

His lips are on yours before everyone can even finish saying one, their loud “Happy New Years!” doesn’t even startle you out of it. The noise only makes his fingers dig harsher on your face and his mouth grows more intent on yours, tongue licking your bottom lip and with a breathy whimper, you welcome him by parting your mouth.

Your lungs burn after what feels like minutes, but you can’t be sure it isn’t your brain stretching time out like a string of melted candy. The only thing you can do is curse yourself for ruining your lungs' capacity by having a brief smoke; if you’d only known Ross would be stealing your breath with a kiss, you would have declined.

You pull back with a gasp, trying to take as much oxygen into your lungs, chest heaving with your ragged breaths.

Yet Ross is composed as he lets his eyes flutter close and presses his forehead against yours. Your heavy exhales hit his parted mouth, your noses brush, and you feel your heartbeats in your ears.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks and your body betrays you when you dip forward to join your mouths again.

It’s barely a kiss, more of a string of pecks that you manage to drop on his parted lips as you try puckering your lips in between trying to catch your breath.

Ross giggles breathily.

You stop, pulling back and looking into his eyes, “Happy New Year, Ross.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It was foolish of you to expect that university would be an easier change than moving towns in the middle of high school, yet you had held out hope that this time things would be easier; with your age and the aspirations you had, you expected all that to fuel you into fighting your struggles when change happened, but how wrong you were.

A miraculous day was one when you wouldn’t cry, staring at your phone as you tried to decide whether or not it would be a good idea to bug your parents once again, or if it was time to come clean to your friends back home about how you actually were feeling.

You never really made a decision. You felt guilty enough keeping this from your friends but you didn’t want to burden them with your stupid issues that all were rooted in your lack of ability to adapt to new places. Your parents were really the only ones who half knew how you were coping, but even then it was a very tame account of what you were really going through.

That is why you’re incredibly giddy now on the coach back home. You don’t even care about it being crowded and feeling way too observed by eyes you’ve never met, neither do you care about the smells around you nor the loud snoring coming from behind you.

All you can think of is how excited you are to be home during your favourite time of the year, to see your friends, to hug Ross so tightly you are sure it will rid you of all of your troubles.

You really wanted to see Ross.

It wasn’t like you never spoke on the phone but with your inability to cope with change, there were only a few evenings throughout the week when you weren’t sobbing your eyes out enough to deal with your academic responsibilities and then make calls back home.

So it was needless to say that you’ve been counting down the days until holiday break, and you just couldn’t wait to get to that road you had met Ross and run down to knock on his door and crush him in a hug.

Your knee bounces up and down as you think about all the things that have been going on back at home, how the world back there has kept spinning around without you and it makes your anxiety creep up your spine.

With a shake of your head, you force yourself to stop.

It’s okay. Everyone will be glad to see you and it’s gonna be as if you’d never left. It’ll be alright.

When your dad picks you up from the Manchester airport station, your smile breaks on your face. It has been so long since you’ve genuinely smiled that your cheeks start hurting shortly into your drive. Your heart slams against your ribcage, your fingers fiddle with the sleeves of your jumper, and your words tangle on the tip of your tongue as you try to chat with your dad.

You can’t wait to get home and feel some sense of normalcy, that familiarity you’ve been longing the very second you went away.

But, despite the warm welcome the familiar walls of your fully decorated house gives you, when Ross comes over, there’s a shift around you that makes you frown.

The unrelenting knocks on the front door have you dashing downstairs, and when you open it, your eyes widen and a gasp slips past your lips when seeing Ross standing in front of you, “Oh my god, hi!”

He envelopes you in a hug that makes a knot tie in your throat, and the sound of his voice would have pushed a sob out of you if it wasn’t for a correction that hit you like a gut punch, “Missed you so much swee– Y/N/N.”

The both of you tense in each other’s hold, impossible not to have missed the awkward correction. Your brows furrow as you look over his shoulder, not wanting to look at his face just yet because your confusion is clear on your face, but you try your best to sound unnerved when you reciprocate, “Yeah. Missed you too.”

A half smile is what you offer him when you pull back, and when he gives you a grin of his, you just want to scream seeing the dimples on his cheek after so long.

Yet, you can’t let yourself enjoy his presence fully when he walks into your house and he greets your parents, because all that you’re thinking about is why on Earth he could’ve stopped himself from calling you a pet name he’s used for you for years.

Your chest hurts already, thinking about a loss that you have no idea the reasoning behind. Little did you know, you would be mourning more losses with the days to come.

In the kitchen, your parents, Ross and yourself are all chatting and catching up over cups of hot chocolate. There’s laughter and smiles, loads of news about what’s been going on in Wilmslow while you’ve been gone, many more stories of the lads and another name the band had acquired.

Soon enough, your mum and dad leave to finish wrapping presents and leave you and Ross to catch up alone.

He’s helping you make cookies, the same ones you had made 5 years ago to thank him for the potatoes. And you can’t help but smile at the memories the two of you have made over the years during the Christmas season, heat creeping up your neck when remembering what had happened merely one year ago.

But you can’t relish too much on the ghostly feeling of his lips on yours because suddenly, he clears his throat and shyly starts talking about something he has been hiding from you for a bit.

“I, erm, met this girl in uni,” he trails off with a soft voice that makes you freeze in your spot. “She’s teaching history, like I do. She’s much smarter than I am, though.”

Ross laughs, that dimpled smile breaking on his now flushed face. All you can do to hide your surprise is chuckle along, breathy and not at all genuine.

And it seems like he takes your giggles as a seal of approval for he lets every thought about this mysterious girl out.

Her name is Katie and she’s the same age as you and Ross. They met the first day of classes when Ross was so confused about where he had been told to go, his inability to take his eyes off the papers in his hand had caused him to crash into her and, after gathering each other’s things which had fallen everywhere on the hall, they chatted enough to know they were both lost on their first day as teachers and they had been inseparable since then.

She has a brilliant memory and is an amazing teacher. Everyone adores her and Ross is still surprised she chooses to hang out with him most of the time. She’s pretty, gorgeous even from what you can see on her myspace page Ross shows you. She loves LCD Soundsystem and The Streets so she’s basically perfect. Added to the fact that she plays the guitar, and of course is quite good at skateboarding.

The bitter feeling rising up your throat burns a hole in your chest, like acid burning through your skin and bones.

“Can we change topics? Please?” You snap out, smacking your hands on the kitchen counter. “Not in the mood to hear about how perfect this girl is. I’m sure I’ll see how fucking wonderful she is when I have to meet her.”

A loud sigh follows your sudden outburst, and then silence falls. Each second hurts, the silence is far too loud and then dread falls on you, a heavy weight on your shoulders that makes you slump forward.

“Right,” he says to pierce through the agonising silence.

You want to disappear right then and there. It’s unfair of you to shut him up like that when you’ve been gone for months and you barely have had the time to chat properly on the phone. It’s unfair of you to not listen to him talk about a topic that clearly has him excited, someone who has him foolishly smiling and rambling.

But maybe it is that. That you are back after the most horrible months you’ve been through and all he can talk about is this gorgeous perfect girl that claims his every thought.

You’re annoyed she’s pushed you away to a corner of his mind. Annoyed that whilst you were crying your eyes out every fucking day, he’s been getting closer to this girl.

It’s odd because it isn’t like Ross hadn’t had girlfriends before. You have witnessed him with girlfriends since you met him.

But there was an end to that and it was when you first kissed on Christmas day a year ago. Ever since that day, your dynamic had shifted and you had been perhaps flirting a bit more, but it never went further than that. But he also didn’t get a girlfriend after that and maybe, despite having to leave for university, you had held out hope that it would stay that way.

How foolish of you.

Cookies are finished and put on the oven in deafening silence, a very awkward one that makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You can breathe again when he leaves as soon as your parents come back downstairs with more presents to place under the tree. He says something about going back home to get ready and making sure his parents don’t come over late before he closes the door behind himself.

Suddenly, the prospect of having Christmas dinner with the MacDonald family is suffocating and you want to be able to hide in your room and avoid it entirely, but you can’t.

Not when Ross’ mum and dad envelope you in the tightest hugs and tell you how much they’ve missed having you around. You have to bite your tongue not to start crying, especially when you see Ross standing behind them over their shoulders with a forced smile that reminds you how badly you had fucked up earlier.

You’re incredibly grateful for the fact that your parents take over the conversation aspect of dinner, because Ross barely looks at you or speaks to you all throughout it. It only saddens you more, a bit of anger brewing inside you too.

It’s too tense to enjoy, too awkward to even feel a hint of the warmth Christmas day often brings you.

When dinner is over and your mum tells the both of you it’s time for your annual Christmas pictures, it becomes even more awkward—as if that was possible.

His arm falls over your shoulder like dead weight, his fingers don’t even hold you in place. So when you wrap your arm around his waist, you barely make an effort to hold him close to you. Your smiles are forced on your faces, no dimples biting at his cheeks, your lips almost look pressed together instead of showing a toothy grin to the camera like you’ve always done before.

Your mum sighs but takes a picture anyway. She has no idea why you two are acting this way but she doesn’t care, she just wants a cute picture. “Oh c’mon kids, where’s the kiss?”

A roll of your eyes is what your mum sees, and she’s about to scold you when you say in a forced amused tone, “Think we’re a bit too old for mistletoe kisses now, no?”

Silence again. Second after second of quietness that only makes the weight on your shoulders heavier.

It’s ironic how much heavier it feels when Ross lifts his arm off your shoulders and lets it fall limply on his side at the same time as he agrees, “We are.”

You take your arm off his waist instantly. You’re left standing awkwardly beside the other and despite your mum’s confusion, which is clear in her frown, she presses the shutter and the picture is taken and begins printing in a blink of an eye.

As soon as the whirring of the printing polaroid stops, you regret ever letting those words out of your mouth.

Because not only do you get a hasty hug from Ross when he and his parents leave your house, the next morning is accentuated by the lack of his presence.

No more ‘sweetheart’. No more pictures of kisses on cheeks under the mistletoe. No lazy Boxing day morning.

And, apparently, no walking to Matty’s together either.

You’ve been waiting for his call all day. First, to see if he was coming over to show each other your presents like you always do, but no call came through. And now, you’re three hours into waiting for him to call you and tell you to walk out so you can go to Matty’s together for the gift exchange.

No call comes and since you’ve been ready to go for a while and you don’t want to be late, you just rush downstairs and leave.

Walking down the roads you’ve missed so much, alone, is another wave of pain that you didn’t know you could feel just by the absence of someone. No one has ever meant this much to you before that the lack of their presence chips away at your heart, piece by piece.

When you get to the Healy residence, you get crushing hugs from everyone that’s already there. Except from Ross, of course, because he’s already there, splayed on a loveseat and he barely makes the effort to hug you hello.

As the inevitable catching up happens all over again, since you’re still waiting for the rest of your friend group to arrive, you have to hide the truth and put on a fake smile when talking about how university is going. But it’s hard when you have no new friends, and you’re struggling through most of your classes thanks to how homesick you feel.

Change is a nightmare to you and you’re reminded of how much things are changing at a quick pace when an hour goes by and no one else shows up.

Seems like no matter how vocal about the promise of always coming back Danielle had been, she and Sarah weren’t coming at all. Jodie shares a sad smile with you and puts away the gift bags from them, leaving only the ones for everyone who’s currently there.

The warmth you have been craving since you got there finally washes over you when everyone opens up their gifts. Laughter, cooing and many thank yous go around the living room, it gives you the hope that maybe it’s not been all ruined.

You’re looking forward to the New Year’s Eve party until George asks Ross if he’s asked Katie about it and the way Ross blushes is enough for everyone but you and Jodie to start a ruckus, teasing and making jokes about the girl and Ross.

“Yes, she’s coming over on the 31st…” Ross sighs, rubbing his flushed face to hide how flustered he’s gotten. But then he drops his hand and looks around the place, brows shooting up and eyes widening like he’s giving a warning, “You lot better play nice.”

However, it’s the way his eyes grow stern when they fall on you that you know he means it seriously when it comes to you.

So you take it seriously.

You know you’ve been the one to put this tension between you and it’s in your hands to right your wrongs, so you want to take this opportunity to apologise for your irrationality on the previous days.

You’ve mentally prepared, gone over what Ross told you the day you got home and recognised how great of a person Katie sounded like. It actually makes you smile when thinking she’s been such a good help for him to adjust to his new teaching gig, how she and Ross have gone through the novelty of it together; and convincing yourself that despite the horrendous feeling that clouds your insides, she’s been a good addition to Ross’ life.

But it doesn’t matter that you’ve reached those conclusions and that you’re actually gotten yourself excited enough to meet her, because when you get to Matty’s with two bottles of vodka and a pack of Ross’ favourite beer—an apology gift if you will—, Ross fully avoids you.

He gives you a tight lip smile and a nod of his head as a hello, he turns to Katie and says, “Katie, this is Y/N.”

You’re left trying to awkwardly act like the fact that Ross has left you with your arms open and awaiting a hug hasn’t hurt you, and you really try your best to push the ugly feeling aside when you smile at her and offer your hand out for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Katie. I’ve heard loads about you.”

She blushes and lets out the cutest giggle, and of course it’s that which finally makes Ross smile.

“Oh, really? That’s erm, good to hear.” She finally grabs your hand after giving Ross a side look to which he smirks. You really have to fight the scowl that wants to take over your face when she shakes your hand, “Nice to meet you too.”

He snakes an arm around her waist and you take that as a sign to get yourself away from the situation. Before you can say something you’ll regret even more, or even pick a fight with Ross for his indifference.

The need to call him out for it grows as the night continues, for he doesn’t even look at you. He keeps a straight face when you speak, doesn’t even look at you when you clearly throw a comment or ask a question to him, he doesn’t speak to you at all. And everyone fucking notices, the looks they keep sending your way are enough to know that they know something is wrong.

But you can’t explain, not right then at least. So you keep to yourself, pouring yourself drink after drink, and you start being petty and mirror his behaviour: you laugh louder to annoy him, messing about with George and Matty obnoxiously, ignoring any comment or joke he could make to the rest of the group.

You walk past the line of tipsy and start getting drunker and drunker when midnight gets closer. The memory of how it had been the previous year makes you glare at him. He has her almost sitting on his lap as she delicately takes sip after sip of her cup, and it enrages you that he’s drinking the beer you bought him when he hasn’t even thanked you for it!

How is it that you were kissing him a year ago and now you’re watching him being all lovey dovey with a girl he has just met?

It’s an understatement to say you’re fucking pissed by midnight. George has been laughing at your clumsiness for a while now, but he has joined you when you started drinking the vodka straight from the bottle instead of mixing it with fizzy lemonade like you had been all night.

When the countdown starts, you set the almost empty vodka bottle on the coffee table and start screaming along.

Matty is beside you and he grabs your shoulders and shakes you in excitement, making you laugh loudly, but you let yourself fall back so you’re resting over his chest and he rests his chin on your shoulder, counting down right in your ear.

It is the second everyone yells, “Happy New Year!” that you act before your brain can process and, suddenly, you’re kissing Matty.

He gasps when your lips meet and you lick into his mouth, but the curly haired brunette doesn’t pull back, instead he cups your face and tilts your head to put you in an angle where he can kiss you comfortably and he even moans into your mouth when your fingers tangle in his curls and pull on them.

The surprise of what’s happening is enough to make everyone gasp instead of wishing each other a happy new year, and soon whistles and ruckus drowns the room. Everyone but Ross participates in the disturbance. The bassist is biting his tongue as he sees you basically eating Matty’s face. His fingers tighten around Katie’s waist and she turns around to see him when she feels the change in his hold.

Ross forces a smile and Katie gasps, “I didn’t know they were a thing!”

“Me neither,” he manages out through his teeth.

It doesn’t matter that he’s doing a poor job at hiding what’s going through his head because Katie is more interested in seeing what happens next with you and Matty.

The feeling of tears rolling down your cheeks and tasting the saltiness in the kiss, makes Matty pull back. He hears you whine and you pucker up your lips to continue the kiss but Matty pulls back, clutching your face a bit tighter so you can open your eyes and look at him while he whispers, “Do you wanna leave Y/N/N?”

Matty knows you far better than you think and he knows that this kiss has no other meaning behind it other than the fact that you’re too drunk and he’s quite sure he knows why you have been so reckless with your drinking tonight. And, despite being drunk himself, he has to try and get a hold of his bearings and help you out.

You nod, embarrassed when another tear rolls down your cheek. When he wipes it with his thumb before anyone can see it, you whisper back, “Can we go up to your room? Can’t be here anymore.”

His curls bounce on his head when he nods and you’re grateful he holds you by your waist when you stand up and walk upstairs to his room.

“Y’alright?” Matty asks when he closes the door behind the two of you.

You wait until he sets you on the edge of his bed to answer, “No.”

He knows it’s all because of Ross, not only because of his behaviour tonight, but maybe because you felt some type of way for his best mate and now you were stuck in this situation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not– Don’t apologise. This is just me being fucking stupid, expecting everything to be the same when I came back home.” The despair is clear in your voice and he kneels in front of you when you let your head hang for the tears can’t be stopped anymore. You shake your head as you think about all that you have felt for months and how, after tonight, the feelings that have flooded your system are just the same, “But I’m so sad, Matty. I’m so lonely.”

It breaks his heart to hear you like this, when your shoulders shake as you silently sob, he squeezes your thighs to make you look into his eyes when he says, “You’ve got us. Always.”

Another shake of your head breaks his heart, your words not helping at all when you say, “Not back there. I wish I did.”

Matty knows it is not the moment to ask about it, but he will ask how you truly are doing in London afterwards. For now, he brushes your hair behind your ears and asks, “Do you want me to stay?”

“Please?” Your voice breaks when you add, “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He quickly stands on his feet and crushes you in a hug, “I’m right here, darling. I’ve got you.”

Matty stays with you for a while, and Ross sees red when another ten minutes go by and neither of you come back downstairs. He grabs Katie’s hand and convinces her to leave, and the girl of course accepts because despite really having enjoyed herself, she would rather have Ross all to herself.

Ross stomps his way back home with Katie in hand. He’s fucking fuming at both you and Matty, because of course you would act all childishly when finding out he has met a girl and has been taling to her, and use one of his best mates to get back at him.

He shakes his head and huffs angrily, deciding right then and there that he’s done with your behaviour. And he ignores the feeling that burns his insides at the thought of you and Matty together on a night like this. He chooses to focus on Katie, sweet Katie who’s giggling and sharing her favourite things about tonight.

Stopping in the middle of the road, he wraps an arm around Katie’s waist and presses her flush against his chest, brings a hand up to her face and kisses her passionately.

He shuts his eyes tightly and tries his best not to compare this kiss to the one you had shared a year ago, willing himself to have Katie be all he thinks about from now on.

Even when you come knocking on his door two days later.

A soft smile is on your face when he opens the door and you greet him with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

He sounds and looks wary, like he’s trying not to say too much either with his words or his facial expressions.

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you let him know, “Erm… I’m going back.”

He frowns, “Already?”

You know it’s odd, it’s the middle of the week and classes don’t start again until Monday so there’s no reason for you to leave in such a hurry, but you just can’t stay here when everything is like this. You had wanted to come back home to spend your time with him, not ruining your friendship in the worst possible way and now, all you wanted to do was run away before you could get yet another chance to fuck things up even more.

“Yeah. Gotta go back.”

“Did you have fun?” Ross asks with a tone in his voice that makes you freeze in your spot.

It feels like it’s a trick question but you can’t really think about why. Mainly because you can’t remember much about the party other than how awful Ross had acted with you, but you don’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he had been the reason for the way you had drank.

So you try to smile even brighter now, nodding as you reply, “I did. It was really fun.” It hadn’t really, because not only had you been feeling so awful because of him, you had woken up with the worst fucking hangover of your life. Matty had been lovely and helped you until you felt well enough for him to take you back home, but you were still feeling the effects of such a horrible night.

You made a joke of it, very nonchalantly adding, “Still feeling a little rough but it’s alright.”

But since you have no clue of what Ross thinks happened, your words make his stomach churn and he scoffs humourlessly, “Right. Well, I’ll see you next year then.”

The way he says it makes you feel like instead of saying goodbye like you had come over with the intention of doing, he’s pushing you away with a halfhearted farewell to just get it over with.

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as you try not to cry, and with a small voice you agree, “Yes. You will.”

“Good,” Ross says, though he isn’t sure if he means it or not.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Katie and Ross had gotten together officially on Valentine’s day of 2008, or so you saw back then when she posted it on Facebook—after Matty had begged you to make yourself a profile on the new social media page, the lads had sent you friend requests and along with them came Katie and a bunch of people from school you had barely ever spoken to.

The biggest change since you left Wilmslow at the very start of the year has been that you barely ever speak to Ross, either through the phone or through messages on Facebook. You had called him on his birthday to congratulate him and so he had done the same when yours approached.

Matty has been the one to take his place, even if it has been in a way different way than what Ross ever was to you. You’re still so incredibly grateful for Matty, he’s the one to help you on your worst days and is a great person to vent to when you couldn’t keep everything to yourself any longer.

With someone there to be entirely transparent to, hearing you and helping you through your struggles, university got the tiniest bit easier.

And though it still wasn’t the greatest thing ever, you were scared of leaving your dorm to take a coach back home for the holidays with how everything had turned out the year before.

So you’re more anxious than excited when you sit by the window and open a book you’ve brought to keep you distracted from your thoughts on the long drive up to Manchester.

It’s futile, for you have to read each paragraph twice and you barely have gotten halfway through the book with how distracted you’ve gotten by your own mind throughout the ride home. Any other day, six hours would be enough for you to finish a three hundred and something pages long book, but not today.

Your dad greets you with the biggest hug at the airport station and once you get inside his car, it feels real enough that you can’t stay still. Not even when you get home and go upstairs to your room after hugging your mum hello.

You’re pacing around your room, sitting on the edge of your bed for a handful of seconds only to spring back up and start pacing again. A vicious cycle that continues for far longer than you would like to admit, until the loud knocking on your front door startles you out of your trance and poses a good excuse to do something.

“I got it!” You yell out to your mum who’s making hot chocolate in the kitchen, and you hum when she thanks you.

When you open the door, Ross greets you with a loud, “Hi!” and a toothy smile that you haven’t seen in ages.

Through the shock, you manage to say, “Oh hi!”

And you become even more shocked when he goes straight to the point, “Heard you’d finally arrived so I thought I’d come by and ask you if you wanted to come over later? You know, to catch up, maybe watch a film and have some hot chocolate…”

“Oh? Yeah, sure. That sounds good,” you somehow manage, but you’re sure your wide eyes and your parted mouth is enough for him to know you’re surprised.

“Brilliant,” he smiles easily and asks just to be sure, “Around six?”

You nod, swallowing hard before answering, “Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

In all honesty, you thought he hated you. With everything that happened a year ago, most of it all being your own fault, you expected to not see him until Boxing day at Matty’s when you were due to exchange gifts, but here he is inviting you over to have a day to yourselves like you used to back in the day.

There’s a spark of hope that brings tears to your eyes. Maybe you haven’t lost him just yet and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Your parents see the change in your demeanour when you come into the kitchen with the brightest smile and let them know you’ll be going to Ross’ house around six to hang out. They truly couldn’t be happier because they had always loved the friendship the two of you shared, and your mum had been highly suspicious about your lack of Ross talk ever since last Christmas.

But you had cheered way too early for when you knock on Ross’ door and he lets you in, you’re met with a smiling Katie in the middle of the living room waving you over.

The shock leaves you frozen in your spot and Ross watches as Katie’s smile falters when she asks if you’re alright. Ross doesn’t even have to see your face to see how tense you are and the tone in your voice when you say, “Yes! I’m fine. Sorry. It’s so good to see you again.” is enough for him to know this is gonna cost you some effort.

You take one of the settees while Katie takes her place on the loveseat across from you and Ross is off to the kitchen to bring the mugs of hot chocolate he had promised.

When he’s back, you and Katie are exchanging some lighthearted small talk. He hands you a mug and hopes that with his presence there, he can help you and Katie to get to know each other better. After all, he still considered you one of his best friends and Katie had now been his girlfriend for ten months, so it’s well overdue to have you and Katie properly getting along.

But it seems like that isn’t happening any time soon. You’re trying your best not to be awkward, to be nice and find interest in everything she’s saying but Ross knows you so well, anger starts boiling his blood when he sees how much you’re forcing it all.

It doesn’t sit well with him how you can’t even hack simple conversation with his girlfriend, and despite a voice inside his head pointing out that you really are trying, he can’t help but become more and more infuriated by the lack of sincerity of your words and behaviour.

The last nail in the coffin is when you cut short one of Katie’s stories about one of her and Ross’ dates and say that you’re sorry but you need to head back home. And, even when Katie points out it’s just a quarter to ten, you hold your ground and continue saying you really needed to go.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” Ross says once he’s shut the door behind him as he walks you out.

You turn around to see him rubbing his face in exhaustion, “Excuse me?”

He groans, exasperated, “Can you just, for once, not be a bitch to her?”

Your mouth opens agape at his choice of words and you struggle to find your words, “What? How am I–”

“You are! You know damn well you are!” He interrupts with fury, “I thought it had just been bad last year ‘cause it was your first time coming back home for the holidays and it was a bit of an intrusion to have her join our friend group, but now? There’s no excuse for how fucking fake you’re being to her.”

Like a fish out of water, your mouth opens and closes as you try to find what to say, “Ross, I–”

It isn’t good enough for him and he interrupts, “No, I don’t wanna hear it.”

He can see the tears welling up your eyes and he has to stop himself from rolling his, “You either treat her like a decent human being or–,” he trails off as he thinks. It is then that he looks at you sternly and spits out with venom laced through his words, “Or maybe, you know what? You should just leave. Go back to London.”

Words could never describe that pain that ripples through your body when he says that, you can barely say with a broken voice, “If that’s what you want.”

And not even the fact that you’re about to sob stops him from being so harsh on you. He nods, “I do. It’s for the best of everyone here that you just go.”

“Okay,” you whisper before turning on your heels and walking quickly down the road, rushing to go into your house.

Your mum and dad see the desperation with which you open the door and slam it shut behind you, and they barely catch the tears running down your cheeks when you run upstairs and lock yourself in your room.

Toeing off your shoes, you walk up to your window and shut the curtains, to then turn off your lights and in utter darkness, you shed yourself of your clothes and put on your pyjamas before hiding yourself under your sheets and starting to sob.

Your chest hurts with every cry that you try to smother by pressing your face into your pillow, and it is right then that you know you won’t be able to stay for long. You will unfortunately give Ross the pleasure of listening to his words and go back to London, but not before actually having Christmas dinner with your family and giving everyone their Christmas gifts on Boxing day. You would endure only two more days and then you would be gone. Spending New Years alone in your dorm didn’t sound as depressing as spending it here where you didn’t feel welcome anymore, not with Ross right there.

Before Christmas dinner, your mum sends you over with a big gingerbread cake for the MacDonalds; since they aren’t coming over for dinner that year, as Katie was spending it with Ross and his parents, the tradition of sending over treats has come alive again.

You’re so grateful that it is his mum to open the door, not feeling strong enough to see his face again. But it’s extremely hard for you not to let your tears spill down the corners of your eyes when she invites you inside to share the treat with everyone. You politely decline and instead make her laugh when you have her promise to let you know how she finds the cake.

Throughout the whole of Christmas dinner with your parents, your mind is gone somewhere else. You barely touch your food and can’t really keep track of the conversation they try to lure you into. After dinner is over and you’ve put the dirty dishes on the dishwasher, you manage to focus enough to appreciate the gifts your parents got for you and to relish in the reactions to the gifts you got them.

Unfortunately, as you go on Facebook to wish Matty, George and Adam a merry Christmas, you catch a glimpse of a picture Ross has uploaded only a few hours ago, and it’s needless to say that your heart breaks in a billion pieces and you sob yourself to sleep like a fool.

How could you not when he’s posted a picture of Katie and him kissing under the mistletoe, reminding you of a tradition that’s now long gone, along with your friendship it seems.

And when you wake up and spend the entire morning of Boxing day alone, falling in and out of sleep, you’re reminded of yet another tradition you used to share that is far gone and adds to your heartache.

Your anguish makes you lose track of time and your appetite, and apparently your rationality as well because you spend hours making a pros and cons list in your mind about showing up to Matty’s before you realise you should just go and give everyone the presents you had already spent your money on. You’re leaving anyway and it would be far better if you just didn’t have all those gifts to look back to and remind you just how everything has turned out this year.

Plus, you had made a promise to keep coming back to see them every year and, after Sarah and Danielle had broken that promise the very first chance it had been time to prove it, you didn’t want to follow their steps.

However, since you’ve wasted all day trying to make that decision, you’re definitely late to the gift exchange.

By the time you get there, you look like an utter mess from how quickly you had gotten ready and how fast you had walked over there, but everyone greets you with sweet smiles and warm hugs.

Everyone but Ross. Yet again. Even Katie envelopes you in a tight hug that you reciprocate, but Ross merely pats your back when you swing an arm around his shoulder to hug him.

You sigh and try brushing it off as you sit beside Matty, who wastes no time to hug you into him and ask if you were alright. Nodding, you assure him wordlessly you were but your eyes say you’re going to talk to him about it later and he nods in understanding.

“Are we gonna start now, then, or what?” Ross says grumpily. He had been the one annoyed at your impunctuality, pushing everyone to just get on with it and not wait for you anymore.

No one will tell you this because it just wouldn’t help at all.

Everyone in the room can see that things between you and Ross are somehow worse than last year, even Katie can tell and it confuses her a lot, because all had been fine when you had come over on Christmas Eve and the three of you had spent the evening together.

Katie doesn’t even know if she should ask. In all honesty, she doesn’t know how to even ask or if she should ask you or Ross or both.

But she puts the matter to the side when you all start exchanging gifts—knowing that Katie was joining this year, everyone has gotten her gifts as well so the girl truly feels like a part of the group—and it is a nice distraction from the clear tension in the room when everyone gets to open their presents.

When Ross thanks you last for what you’ve gotten him with the meekest tone, you have to really force a smile to say, “You’re welcome.” But everyone can see just how much of an effort it is for you to sound nonchalant about it.

Matty is about to snap out at Ross for being an absolute twat when you stand up after gathering all of your gift bags and announce, “Well, I unfortunately gotta go now boys.”

George frowns, “What? Why?”

“It’s barely eight, Y/N,” Adam reminds you softly.

The shake of your head confuses them more and so do your words, “I mean go back to London. I can’t stay longer this year.”

Matty is the one who’s more vocal about his confusion, his words clearly a brutal inquiry as to your reasoning since he knows how much you’d rather be anywhere else but in uni, “Why? Where are you spending New Years? In your dorm?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” you trail off when you can’t really find something to say. Your eyes shift to look at Ross, the reason for your early goodbye, and the second your eyes lock on his, he averts his gaze like he has nothing to do with this. You sigh and excuse, “Something came up, and I really gotta go.”

No one buys it, but they still hug you the tightest they can before bidding you farewell.

“Hope you have the best time on New Year’s Eve. Happy New Year you lot!” You call out as you walk to the front door, “Love yous!”

Alone and in a silence that sickens you, you walk back home.

When you get there, you can’t stop the tears that slide down your cheeks when you tell your parents you’re going back early and you don’t even let your dad offer himself to drive you to the station for you swear you’ve got a ride and it’s all fine.

They want to ask what’s wrong but they don’t when they see the fact that you don’t want to talk about it written on your face. So they leave you to go upstairs and into your room to pack your things up as you silently cry over how poorly it has all gone.

This is the second year you feel like Ross is slipping away from your grasp, and it has you desperate but the only person you have to blame is yourself, for feeling that stupid ownership over him when he isn’t yours, when he has never been yours.

You should be mature enough to keep his friendship, not ruin it because you’re jealous and you feel alone. You should be happy he’s found someone to appreciate him for who he is, to give him the love he deserves when you are gone.

The feeling of disappointment in yourself haunts you as you walk down the stairs and hug your parents goodbye. And that feeling slaps you in the face like the cold winds of December, when you open the door and walk out to Ross waiting there.

He doesn’t say anything though, not when you gasp at his presence, not when you walk up to him and stand right beside him as you wait for the taxi you had phoned to pick you up.

You’re there staring ahead, wishing he was as selfish and horrible as yourself, wishing he would just beg you to stay and say he’d leave his girlfriend behind so you could take her place.

But Ross isn’t selfish nor a bad person like you are. He just stands there in silence and lets his presence be company and goodbye enough for you to settle before you’re gone again.

He offers you a cigarette that you take gracefully, and he lights it up for you without needing to hear you ask for it. The two of you stand there, side by side, smoking together in utter silence.

Your taxi gets there shortly after and he silently watches you put your case in the boot of the car before you throw the cigarette onto the pavement and stomp on it. You open the back door and take one last look at him before getting inside the vehicle.

Not a wave nor a goodbye, much less a hug. Nothing but silence is what he offers as you go.

It isn’t until you get further and further away, disappearing in the distance and becoming smaller as you drive away in the back of that taxi that his gaze drops to the pavement to watch the bud of the cigarette crushed, and it is then that Ross realises he hadn’t heard you cough, not even once, and he frowns to himself.

He really doesn’t know you anymore and he can’t help but wonder if that is for the better.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: Part 2 is coming to you in exactly a week so don't yell at me just yet please!!! I promise I'll make it up to you. Let me know what you thought and what you hope happens next! It seems a bit cruel to wish you a merry Christmas after this but I really do hope yous all have a lovely Christmas! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @abiiors @everythinggetsfuzzy103 @on-administrative-leave @ughgoaway @harryssiren @2kwreck @obses-sedd @scarlett-grace-2 @taylorswiftsrep-blog @solitariodecartas @cherryofmydesire @momentum2023 @soggynoodles02 (i wasn't sure who wanted to be tagged or not so send me a message if you wanna be off the taglist for this story)

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gyuhanniescarat · 5 months

Text

Mr. Perfect Face (fall-ing for you collab) | Wen Junhui | [teaser]

: ̗̀➛ summary: Not being one to indulge in the party life, you indeed know of the campus heartthrob and infamous frat boy Wen Junhui, but you don't know who Wen Junhui is. So, when your best friend and her sorority sister bring you along to a mixer, you're in for quite a treat when the most popular, stunning guy on campus with the perfect face and body appears to show a keen interest in you.

: ̗̀➛ pairing: fuckboy!junhui x naïve!virgin!fem!reader

: ̗̀➛ genre: suggestive (minors dni! — If you're not 18+, then see yourself to the door n let it kick you), university!au, goofy comedy, cheesy fluff, subtle flirting, non-mutual pining, slow burn

: ̗̀➛ rating: (M) 18+

: ̗̀➛ teaser warnings: frat and sorority life, loads of stereotypical fall time college activities, mentions of drinking/ alcohol consumption. any names of other idols are considered to be OC's/ face claims. (this teaser is actually vv mid, but eventual smut is to be easily expected)

: ̗̀➛ teaser wc: 1.7k (and some change — i was feeling rather generous)

💌 MESSAGE FROM JESSI: heyyyy yah cutie pie luvvies! this is my FIRST time writing a series, and my return to writing on kpopblr after 8 months!! forgive me if this whole thing turns out to be cringe... but my writing skills are a lil bit rusty. i've been crafting this one for a lil while now, so i'm really feeling hopeful about showing y'all this series.

a huge thanks to the svthub admins for hosting this seasonal collab!! i'm so excited to participate in this project!! and a massive thanks to my daeeun luvvie @daddyfordaeddy for creating this stunning, sexy, flawless, aesthetic junhui banner 💕

: ̗̀➛ this series is in conjunction with the @svthub fall-ing for you collab. if you are interested in reading the other fics which are apart of this fall collab (please do, my besties have created some amazing work) i will leave the full collab masterlist here.

: ̗̀➛ there is an official taglist for the fall collab, but let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist (send me an ask, send a DM, or comment).

: ̗̀➛ enjoy a little snippet of what's to come in part 1, under the cut

~ dni/support banner/divider credit @cafekitsune

“Ohh… come on, babe! It's just a friday night party. Please. Come on girlie. You need to get out of the dorms for once and live a little.” Your best friend and roommate says, trying to get you to go along with her new greatest plan.

It's only been around 2 months since the Fall semester began, and yet your best friend is already nagging you about your social life, or lack thereof. When you entered college, you’d been determined to get through the 4 years of your undergrad quietly, although that has most definitely not been the case. As a result of a few monstrous professors and their power hungry whack-ass policies, here you are, a 22 year old English major still sluggishly trying to finish your program and find your way into the “real world”.

“Just a ‘friday night party’? Really. You really think I'm gonna buy into that, Yuyu? When is it ever just a 'friday night party'? Be honest with yourself.” You scoff, slightly bitter to the out of the blue suggestion your best friend is implying.

See that's the thing. It's not like you're a fun hater or something, but despite your lifelong friendship with Yunjin, the one thing you don't understand is why showing up at some dumb ass frat and sorority party is so important to a young woman's social life.

“I'm being so serious about this, babe. It's just a little mixer. We can leave at any point if you're not enjoying it. But, I promise I won't even leave your side once. And I'm sure Zuha will stick right by your side too. Right, Zu?” Yunjin coos, eyes silently exchanging thoughts with her sorority sister standing in the corner. “Ohh… y-yeah, yeah… totally.” Kazuha slightly awkwardly replies.

When the two of you ventured off to college, Yunjin joined the Gamma Phi Beta sorority in her freshman year. She had initially tried to encourage you to rush with her during that very first Fall semester. But being raised by your rather strict parents who had always discouraged you from ever engaging in the party lifestyle, you had grown up to become a simple girl. So, upon your entrance to university, you elected to stick to extracurriculars befitting of an English major.

While on the other hand, Yunjin found herself assimilating into Greek life quite easily and possibly far too quickly. All the parties, activities, charity events, alumni dinners, and the found sisterhood encapsulated this new chapter of her life. And this part of her life is how the two of you came to welcome Kazuha into your inner circle.

“I-i don't know, Yuyu. You're just so freaking used to going to parties and stuff now, but I… I'm not really sure that I can fit into the party lifestyle now after a life of being the ‘goody goody’. What would people back home say of me? How would my mom and dad react to the idea of me, their shy, sweet daughter going to a party where alcohol is involved?” You ramble on, anxiety and hesitation settling into your bones.

“Yes, you can. You can totally fit into the party lifestyle, because you got me. And as your best friend since the diaper days, I'm not gonna let you just live life as a ‘WHO’S that girl’. Nah, my babe, people should be looking at you and wondering ‘who’s THAT girl'. It's our college years now!” Yunjin counters, emphasizing her desire to see you start thriving in your young adult life, “And who cares what your parents or anyone back home thinks of you. It's YOUR life and you should live it the way you want.”

Should you? Yunjin has a point. You are an adult now, and your decisions are now your decisions. It would be nice to dip your toes into a life you’ve never known and finally experience what all the other girls your age have long been doing.

“I- Yuyu, you and Zuha are the popular sorority girls and pretty artistic major girls. I wouldn't even know where to begin. I mean look at me... I’m just some plain non-attractive girl that's an English major. What would I do at a party?” You ponder, sighing as you significantly degrade your worth in the process.

“Y/n, what are you talking about? I will not have my bestie slander herself like that. Nuh uh. No self-deprecating, only self-love and positive vibes allowed in this space right now, babe.” Yunjin lightly scolds, walking over from her bed on the other side of the room and sitting down beside you. “Now, we are going to go out, enjoy a little partying, maybe some flirting with hot guys, and live our best lives, okay? Because we're young, and besides, don't you wanna be able to look back on your 20s and say you have no regrets?” Yunjin tries to reason with you, grabbing your hands as she graces you with her signature pout.

Returning her pleading pout with an angry, grimacing pout and dagger eyes, you snappingly respond, “B-but why? Huh? WHY?! What exactly have you got up your mischievous sleeve, Yuyu? Why do you want me to go to a fucking frat and sorority party so bad? Tell me. I'm not even a sorority member. What? Have you forgotten all the party horror stories you used to share back in our teens? And don't you remember what happened at the blacklight party in the middle of junior year? I was so fucking flustered and inexperienced with boys that I vomited on Sunghoon’s shoes.”

“Yeah, I know babe. But that was high school.” Yunjin interjects. Sure. It was a horrific high school memory that still haunts you to this day. “Yuyu, that was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life thus far. Give me one good reason. Just one good reason why I should go with you and Zuha to the graffiti party tonight. Why should I get all dolled up just to end up spending my Friday night at some dumb ass frat house with you, getting caught up in a sea of sweaty, wild, drunk-off-their-ass upperclassmen? What's so fun about putting in a copious effort to look cute and hot just to go home with some pretentious fuckboy frat bro?” You argue, laying back and squeezing the life out of your fluffy throw pillow.

Kazuha looks at Yunjin with a face full of confusion. “W-wait… you haven't told her yet, Jen? Junhui, he—” Kazuha questions, wondering why her ‘big’ sister hasn't explained the reason she's so determined to get you to the party. “Just tell Y/n about what Junhui said to you earlier outside the sorority house.”

Junhui? As in… Wen Junhui?! The most popular guy on campus. Wen Junhui, the biggest heartthrob of the Sigma Chi fraternity?! Wen Junhui, the charming performing arts major who everyone predicts could very well become an idol? THAT Junhui?

“Wen Junhui?! Wh-w… what did he say, Yuyu? Did he ask you to be his plus one to the graffiti party tonight?” You sputter in disbelief, words coming out almost like 100 miles per minute. Rather than respond to the onslaught of interrogative questions that's being thrown her way, Yunjin stands up and walks across the room, going towards her 'little' Kazuha. The two girls now silently exchange suspicious looks, as if they're having a conversation that you're not privy to hear.

Normally, you can pick up enough on the unspoken context and vibes from your best friend's facial expressions and body language. But, it seems at this very moment you can't even read your best friend of 15 years at all. What she's thinking about is beyond you at this point. Hell, now that you’ve linked her to Junhui, she could be in a string of deep thought contemplating all the discreet methods she could apply to freaking murder you in your sleep tonight, and you would have no damn clue.

“Ughh… Yes, bestie. That Junhui. The one and only Junhui in the Performing Arts program that's majoring in the departments of Practical Dance and Music. And no, you little brat! It wasn't me that he was asking about. Actually, funny enough, he wasn't even asking about any of the girls in the sorority at all.” Yunjin scoffs, arms folded and crossed over her chest, her hazel doe eyes narrowing as her piercing glare locks in on you.

“She's not lying, y/n. Jen really meant it when she said Junhui didn't ask her about any of the girls in our sorority.” Kazuha clarifies, embracing you by sitting down in the empty space on your bed and holding your hands out.

Still riddled with an overwhelming sense of shock and disbelief, your ever curious mind can't stop itself from asking the deepest burning question plaguing your current thought process, “So, i-if he wasn't looking to invite you, Yuyu, or one of the other girls in your guy's sorority… then, who… who was Junhui asking about?”

Over in the other corner, perched on her bed, back resting against the wall under the window, Yunjin snorts, her facial expressions hardening as her eyebrows snap together. The look she gives you is that of sarcasm. Suddenly, she reaches towards her nightstand and grabs her phone. Without a single word, but a very intimidating and compelling gaze in Kazuha's direction, Zuha scrambles to take the phone from Yunjin. Opening what appears to be kakaotalk chat logs, Kazuha moves closer to show you the screen.

“You. Fucking hell. It's you, y/n. Wen Junhui wasn't asking Jen or I about any of the sorority sisters. He asked both of us about you, y/n. Junhui personally inquired about you. He really really wants you to come to the graffiti party tonight, y/n.” Kazuha explains, passing the phone over to you.

You? Pfft. Yeah right. Not a chance. Wen Junhui asking about you? THE Wen Junhui asking Yunjin and Kazuha about you? If this is some kind of sick joke concocted by the older Gamma Phi Beta girls, you won't be forgiving at all.

“Wen Junhui… THE Wen Junhui asking not about someone else, Pfft. Nice try there, but that's the funniest shit i’ve ever heard. Come on, Yuyu. Seriously, Zuha? Wen Junhui personally asked you two about me going to a mixer when I've barely spoken more than two words to him in the span of a month. Yeah right.”

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theclairvoyage · 2 months

Text

Centrifugation: Chapter 1

plasmadonor!Joel x f!reader

You’re the star phlebotomist at the local plasma center, and the job has been increasingly mundane as of late… until a new and handsome Texan donor comes to the center and changes that, and the rest your life.

Series Masterlist

Series warnings:

AU, M/F, Age gap (20 years)-reader’s YOB is 1995 (purely coincidental lolol), eventual SMUT, blood, needles, & plasma talk (nothing too graphic, I promise!), a bit of blasphemy, criticism of religion, mentions of death, divorce, angst, fluffity fluff fluff, alcohol consumption, violence. Individual chapters will have specific warnings.

FYI – this work contains criticisms of religion and reader is atheist/agnostic. Feel free to scroll if this offends you. If you decide to read, remember that even if you are religious, this is not an attack on you, but rather ideology. And remember the tenets of religious freedom. Everyone has the right to believe – and NOT to believe – in the things you do.

Plasma Center UrbanDict:

Stick = venipuncture

PR = permanent rejection, aka permanent deferral

Reception = where donors have vitals taken to determine if they are suitable to donate

Donor Floor = where the magic happens, baby! Where donation occurs, aka sticks with big 17G needles

Processing = where units of plasma are sampled and frozen

This is my first ever fic! Excited to share all of it with you. I'm new to posting this kind of stuff on Tumblr, so please forgive rookie formatting and whatnot. Hope you enjoy! As of 03/10/24, I have 6 chapters written - I'm juggling my writing with finishing my MPH degree, so my schedule might be a little spotty until mid-May.

Chapter 1

Chapter warnings: blood, needles, & plasma talk, light violence.

WC: 3.7k

Friday, October 15th | 0755

You turn into the parking lot at the plasma center, a little later than your usual 10 minutes early. Your shift is at 8, so you don’t have much time to walk to the center, clock in, grab your coat and face shield and get to work. Thankfully, the parking lot is just across the street. As soon as you step out of your car, downtown Omaha greets you with the familiar scents of cigarette smoke and fall air, along with the sounds of the city buses and commuters chugging along.

It’s a nice morning. Living in Nebraska means you get to experience the peaks and valleys of all four seasons, and during fall, this means the leaves of what few trees are in the downtown area are painted lovely hues of orange, yellow, and even red – if you’re lucky enough to find a scarlet or pin oak tree.

The plasma center parking lot is shared with employees and donors, and it’s packed this morning. Not a great sign. You walk up to the back employee entrance and punch in the code. The keypad beeps and lights up green and you pull open the ages-old, heavy-as-hell door and make your way to the break room.

The donor waiting area is just outside the break room door, and you can tell by how full it is that it’s going to be a long day, confirming your earlier suspicions in the parking lot. Somebody definitely called in, you think. Great. Punching in the same code as before, you enter the break room, throw your stuff in your locker, and clock in.

As soon as you’re on the Donor Floor, donned with your white lab coat, blue nitrile gloves, and face shield, one of your best phlebotomists and good friend Keri approaches, looking flustered as hell.

“Jesus, thank fuck you’re here,” she sighs, taking a deep breath and raising her eyebrows at you. She smooths back her frizzy hair and sets down her face shield on the counter next to you.

“Are we short today, or did corporate send out some bonus texts to half of Omaha?” you say, checking the Donor Queue on the computer. 15 people waiting, average wait time of 43 minutes. Fucking clean up time, I guess.

“Two call-outs, but they’re newbies, so it wouldn’t have mattered, really,” she says. “Definite yes on the bonus texts. Regulars are all pissed off because they didn’t get any.” You roll your eyes and sigh. To get more donors in, the company you work for has been sending bonus texts to donors that haven’t been in in a while, which really ticks off the regular, twice-a-week donors. It’s all about meeting that liters budget.

“Where do you need me? Breaks need to be sent?” you ask her. You’re the lead phlebotomist, but you always check in with whoever opened before you make any decisions. Keri nods. “Send Blake to break, he’s got an open section now and we’ve got to get these wait times down.” You grab your mobile phlebotomy device and head that way.

Each phlebotomist can have a maximum of 6 donors in their section. You see Blake cleaning up the machine from his last disconnect, leaving you an empty section. “You can head to break, I’ll take over here,” you say, helping him wipe down the now-empty donor bed.

“Thanks… really happy that you’re here. It’s been a shit show today,” he says, walking away from the section toward the break room. You groan and head up to the front near the waiting area, grab a chart, and start climbing the mountain.

Thursday, October 15th | 1230

The morning turned out to be an absolute disaster. You quickly filled up your section once you sent Blake to break, apologizing to every donor you sat for the wait times. Most were understanding. There were a few that gave you an eye roll or a shrug. A few left the center, not wanting to be late for work. The fall is generally a busy time at the center, with people seeking extra money for football tailgates and games, college students needing extra money for just about everything, and parents stocking up early on holiday savings.

Thankfully, Keri, you, and the rest of the morning Donor Floor crew knocked the Queue down to 3 donors and wait times down to 10 minutes. Once the last morning break was done, they came over and sent you to your lunch. Delighted, you took off your sweaty coat and hung it up, washed your hands at the sink by the coat rack, and headed to the break room.

Before you’re able to punch in the door code, a deep, velvety voice stops you.

“Uh, miss? Can you point me in the right direction?”

You turn and look in the direction of the voice and see a taller man with dark, silvery-streaked curly hair, tanned skin and pensive brown eyes staring at you. He’s donning a red flannel that squeezes his broad shoulders and ropy arm muscles, and dark wash Levi’s that have the outline of his wallet imprinted in the front right pocket. He’s definitely a blue-collar guy, not unlike a lot of the current donors. Must be a new donor, you think. Damn, he looks good. You feel a little zap in your chest, not unlike the fingerstick donors get during screening.

“Hi! Are you a new donor?” You ask, turning on your customer service voice in hopes of calming your nerves. You step back from the door and walk toward him. He’s got a small white paper slip in hand, which tells you he needs his veins checked, so he must be new.

“Yes ma’am, need someone ‘ta look at my veins. Been here before, but it’s been a long time,” he says, watching you approach him and giving you the once-over. Twice-over. Your pulse quickens. His voice is like icing, dripping with a sweet Southern accent and mushing your insides. You smile and take the paper from him, hoping that you aren’t blushing.

“Roll up your sleeves for me and let’s take a look,” you say, watching him roll up the sleeves of his red flannel. He’s got thick, veiny forearms that are tanned and covered with freckles. He wears a watch on his left wrist that you assume hasn’t been removed in years, judging by the pure white skin peeking underneath. His hands are big and scarred. Definitely works with his hands, you think. He has a small, circle-shaped scar on his right arm near the venipuncture site, so he was telling the truth about donating plasma before. You grab a tourniquet hanging on the cabinet near the chart area, wrap it on his upper arm, and feel. His veins are huge and muscular, and you realize you didn’t need the tourniquet in the first place. Rookie mistake.

“Guess I really don’t need this,” you say, removing the tourniquet and feeling his ropy veins with your index finger. His skin is warm under your clammy finger. He chuckles. “Heard that one before,” he says. You laugh and make eye contact with him, noticing the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and his salt and pepper beard. His gaze is amiable and filled with something else you can’t quite pinpoint, and your stomach twists. You look away before you can decipher it.

“I don’t think you’ll have any issues with the stick,” you say, and he laughs. “Are you hydrated? Had a good meal in the last hour or two?” You ask, writing your name on the vein check slip and circling “Pass.” You see the name Joel Miller written at the top.

“Yes ma’am, I do a lot of workin’ outside and with my hands, so I know better,” he says, confirming your earlier assumption. His voice is sending a wave of tingles from your ears to your neck, and you feel goosebumps start to erupt in their pathway.

“Good man, Joel,” you say, noticing him perk up at you saying his name, “Take this back to the front desk and we’ll get you processed as quickly as we can.” He nods, gives you a handsome-as-fuck lopsided smile, and walks back to the front. You head back to the break room and turn to glance at him once more to find that he's already looking at you. Fuck, you think, looking back at the door. Don’t need a hot donor making me feel nervous like this. He’s older than you, but he might be the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen. You can only imagine how homely you look, clad in your scrubs and sweaty from the morning hustle and bustle.

You see every part of humanity at your job: young and old, foreign and domestic, all races and ethnicities, handsome and near homeless. There have been a few men that have caught your eye, and a few that you’ve met up with outside of the center, but none like this one. As tedious and mundane as the job can be, it’s the people that make it exciting, especially attractive ones. Well, hopefully he passes screening so I can see him on the Donor Floor, you think, contemplating what you’re going to get for lunch in the short time that you have.

Thursday, October 15th | 1430

Your break went by too fast. You decided on some fast-food place just across the street from the center. It’s good and cheap, but you know the greasy food is going to put you in a late-afternoon lull. Oh well. After you got back, the lobby was still relatively empty, so you started working on doing the monthly machine cleanings in the meantime.

The plasmapheresis machines are complicated and like everything else in the plasma center, they come with lots of rules and regulations. You’re a seasoned pro, though, so the cleaning and documentation are a breeze. You’re heading over to clean the last of the machines in the third row of the Donor Floor when you see a familiar, handsome head of dark salt-and-pepper curls walk behind Keri to one of the donor beds in the first row. He smiles at you as he lies on the donor bed, and you feel your cheeks heat and curl up into a smile of their own. Get a fucking grip. You’re relieved that Keri is taking care of him, because you’re nervous just seeing him in your work area. You can only imagine how shaky your hands would be with a needle if you were the one sticking him.

While cleaning the machines in the third row, you periodically look over at Joel and Keri. Keri is great with the donors, and it’s evident when you see Joel laughing with her. Each time you look up, he’s either already looking at you or looks up right after you do. You try to play it off like you’re scanning over all the donors, making sure everything is going as it should, but the sweat sheen forming on your face and neck betray you.

You see the light on his machine turn green, indicating he’s been stuck and is running smoothly. You imagine what it would’ve been like to feel his veins again, feeling his warm, tan skin underneath your fingers… and underneath other things, like—

“Oh my god, that man is such a charmer… and asked about you at least three times,” Keri states, snapping you out of your horny daydream. Your eyes widen and you turn so he can’t see your face from where he’s seated.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down!” You hiss, making both of you giggle. “What was he saying?”

“Oh, nothing much, just asking what the cute girl that checked his veins was doing all the way over here,” she smirks. “He used to donate here over 25 years ago when the center first opened up. Can you believe he’s that old? He does NOT look like it.” Odd, you think. He didn’t sound like he was from here when you spoke to him earlier. Wait, did he say I was cute? Blushing at his remark about your appearance, you remember the scar on his arm and think he’s probably telling the truth. “Wow, he looks good. How old is he?” Keri pulls him up on her mobile phlebotomy handheld and you see he was born in 1975. Damn. 20 years older than you.

Before you and Keri can gush further about Joel, the front door slams shut, echoing throughout the center and catching everyone off-guard. You watch as one of the younger regular donors, Cedric, storms past Reception and the donor waiting area over to the Donor Floor front desk, near where you checked Joel’s veins earlier. He practically spits your name, his brows pinched in a rage.

“Cedric, is everything alright?” You ask, approaching the front desk slowly. The once-noisy Donor Floor is quiet, save for the quiet whirring and clicking of the machines. Donors not wearing headphones are anxiously watching the front desk. You give Cedric the once-over and notice that his arm wrap is soaked with blood, and some of it has gotten on his white shirt and shorts and the floor around him. First rule of donating: Never wear white to a plasma center, dude.

“Does it fucking look alright? My arm wasn’t wrapped right and now I have blood everywhere!” he fumes. The entire Donor Floor is watching, including Joel and poor Blake, who must’ve disconnected Cedric. Blake approaches tentatively, tail between his legs, but you put your hand up to him, saying I’ll take care of this. Blake gives you a thankful nod and tiptoes back to his section.

“Cedric, I’m sorry about that. Come over to the sink and I’ll rewrap it for you,” you say, putting a fresh pair of gloves on. “Keri, can you clean up the blood spots with bleach, please?” You ask. She nods and grabs a Clorox bottle near the front desk, putting her face shield on and quickly walking around Cedric to search for the path of blood droplets. Cedric raises his voice again.

“Not good enough. I need that kid fired for his incompetence!” he points aggressively at Blake, flinging some blood droplets on the arm of your coat and on the front desk.

“Everybody makes mistakes, Cedric. Blake is a great employee. We can fix this. Let’s get you cleaned up, and maybe we can compensate you a little extra on your next donation,” you offer. But Cedric isn’t having it. He rips off the arm wrap and gauze and throws them at you while screaming expletives. The bloodied wrap nearly hits your face shield. Oh, hell no. He’s a long-term donor, so he’s probably clean, but it’s too close for comfort.

“Blake, call Trina and call the cops. Get this guy out of here. Cedric, don’t ever come back to this place,” you calmly instruct, walking backwards to find a biohazard container a safe distance from Cedric, never turning away from him. Trina, your manager, doesn’t put up with this kind of stuff and will make sure he’s permanently deferred.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Cedric yells, sprinting out of the center with two fingers on his free hand holding his venipuncture site, some blood dripping underneath. Once the front door slams shut, you turn around and take off all your PPE and toss it in the biohazard container, saving your nametag and pen. Frustrated and tired, you walk to the sink to wash your hands. Keri and Trina approach you.

“You alright, hon?” Trina asks. She’s a good manager, always looking out for her employees. She used to work on the Donor Floor, so she’s no stranger to these kinds of mishaps. Tensions can be hefty in this area – some donors are desperate for money, some fear needles more than death itself, and some are just grumps. Phlebotomists usually get the brunt of it.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just need to cool off. I told Blake to call the cops.” She nods.

“Go ahead. When the police get here, they’ll want your statement, so I’ll come find you then… I’ll put in the PR now,” she says, giving your arm a supportive squeeze before walking back toward the offices. You give her a pained smile and look to Keri, equally concerned as Trina. “Take your afternoon break, love. I’ll handle everything else,” she says. “Thanks, Ker. I’m gonna step in the freezer to cool off and then I’ll go.” She nods. You head toward Processing, located at the opposite end of the center. Processing has two giant walk-in freezers that always maintain temps of -40ºC – great for keeping fresh plasma frozen solid and an instant cool down.

You step in one of the freezers, shutting the heavy door behind you. You walk over to the fans and stand underneath. The sweat on your neck and back quickly freezes in its downward track, leaving behind a sting that could soon turn to frostbite. It doesn’t take long to cool off here, and anybody staying in for longer than a minute is supposed to put on a heavy coat, gloves, and a ski mask. It’s a popular spot for blistering summer days and after heated interactions like this. Satisfied with the pink blooming on your fingers and the crunch of your frozen, sweaty hair, you step out of the freezer and make your way outside for your break.

Once at the picnic table at the outdoor employee break area, you do a quick scan for Cedric. You can see the trails of blood drops leading to and from his car, and an empty space where his car must’ve been parked. Heaving a sigh of relief, you plop down at the table and massage your temples. Fuck… glad this day is almost over.

“Sweetheart, you alright?” A soothing, Southern voice rings in your ear and you look up, seeing Joel approach from his truck. He says your name, surprising you. Keri must’ve told him it while she was going through the process with him.

You take this moment to return the once-over he gave you earlier. Twice-over. His sleeves are still rolled up and you can see his arm wrap. His jeans crinkle at the hip with each step, his strong, toned quads flexing as each foot contacts the pavement. You can only imagine what he looks like from behind. His cowboy boots are worn, the leather cracking around the toes. He’s probably the type to wear a pair until they crumble to bits. He walks with a quiet bravado, taking long, smooth strides until he reaches you at the table.

You’ve no doubt you look exhausted. Though your sweat has frozen, you can feel how frizzy your hair is, especially around your face. Your eyes sting with fatigue and the skin underneath your eyelids tug downward. Your throat feels dry and tight, like you might cry soon. He must notice because the look in his eyes morphs from concern to anger.

“Hi, Joel,” you state, forcing a smile. “I’m okay. Not my first rodeo,” you wink, giving him a sarcastic “yee-haw” motion. He laughs, but his eyes betray him, still showing anger.

“Mind if I sit?” He motions to the spot across from you.

“No, go ahead, but the cops are on their way and who knows if Cedric will be back,” you caution him. He waves you off.

“That fuckin’ kid don’t scare me, and I saw everythin’ anyway. I can talk to the cops if you ain’t comfortable,” he says. He puts his hands on the backs of yours, and you feel another zap in your chest like you did when you first saw him earlier. You notice now that he doesn’t have a wedding ring.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to. I’m well versed in this department,” you say, feeling the tears reaching their boiling point. You do everything you can to keep them in, but one betrays you and falls down your cheek. Angry that you’re crying in front of Joel, you try to move your hand out from underneath his to wipe the tear, but he beats you to it.

“It’s okay, darlin’. You did the right thing, stickin’ up for your people,” he soothes, his thumb wiping your tear from your face. He moves his hand to cup your jaw and swipes his thumb gently over your cheek. His angry eyes softened back to concerned.

For what feels like an eternity, the two of you stare at each other, exchanging more communication nonverbally than words could ever. He’s looking at each of your eyes back and forth, and you feel yourself start to get embarrassed under his hot stare. You try to turn your head away from his gaze, but his hand stops you. “You’re alright, darlin’, got nothin’ to be ashamed of here,” he says, reading your mind. You bring your hand up from the table to gently grasp his arm as a sign of appreciation. His gaze follows and he swallows loudly.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a genuine, close-lipped smile. His eyes move to your lips and then quickly dart back to your eyes, like you caught him doing something forbidden. He removes his hands and stands up, walking over to your side. He offers a hand to help you up and you accept, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Sorry your first visit back here was so crazy,” you say, and he laughs. “Hopefully next time it’s not so… exciting.” He moves his hand up to your shoulder and gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it. A tingle rips up your spine.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be.” He gives you that same look that he did earlier, the one where you couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. This time, though, you think you know exactly what it means. Your stomach somersaults.

“I’ll see you soon, darlin’. Hopefully your day gets better,” he says, turning to walk toward his truck. Once he gets to the driver’s side door, he turns to look at you again and pauses. You stand and stare at him, wanting to say something in return, but too overwhelmed by all your emotions. He smiles and gets in the truck, starting it and driving off while watching you with a small wave. You smile as he leaves.

Fuck.

Next Chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #centrifugation #pedro pascal fandom

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moviecritc · 10 days

Text

from the start ⋆ oscar piastri series

pairings: oscar piastri x driver!fem!oc, logan sargeant x reserve driver!fem!oc

tropes: childhood friends to lovers, short enemies to lovers

warnings: lando norris, complicated relationship with food

author's note: i have this story published in spanish in wattpad, but i'm also posting it here because i think you'd like it. i'm also working on a logan's series connected to this, so stay tuned <3

soundtrack of the series | masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

❝ SOCIALIZING IS FUCKING HARD. ❞

Oscar Piastri and Marguerite Castello couldn't remember not being best friends. Their mothers were best friends in college, then they moved to the same neighborhood and had babies at the same time. It was Oscar's mother, Nicole, who encouraged Marguerite and her mother to go karting. Oscar and Marguerite started karting at the age of six in Melbourne, competing against each other was great back then. Marguerite got several wins, while Oscar won the championships. From a young age, they realized it was very likely that only Oscar would succeed. But anyway, they decided to move to England so that both could pursue their dream of becoming racing drivers. They had a goal: Formula 1. And if possible, to get there together. And at first, it went well; they entered Formula 4 on the same team, where Oscar was runner-up and she finished fourth. There they met Logan Sargeant and Jezebel Sütten, becoming great friends and teammates. In Formula 3, they were fortunate to be on the same team along with Logan Sargeant. Oscar won the championship title and Marguerite finished sixth. Likewise, they moved with PREMA Racing to Formula 2. That year Oscar joined the Alpine program, won the championship again, and left. Just like that. They had spent their whole lives on the same team, competing together and seeing each other every week, and suddenly Oscar leaves. They promised to stay in touch now that he was a reserve driver and she was continuing another season in Formula 2. That made her feel left behind, although Logan and Jezebel were still with her, Oscar was always her best friend, the person she could tell everything to and feel safe without fear of being judged. The first year they did keep in touch, they coincided in several races. But then he became a McLaren driver and cut off all contact with her. From one day to the next, he stopped replying to her messages and Marguerite refused to trail behind him. Besides, now that he was gone, she was succeeding in Formula 2. That year she won her first title, winning the Formula 2 championship and being the first woman to do so. And even though that earned her a spot in Formula 1 with Alfa Romeo, she was terrified of meeting Oscar again. Not terrified, angry. They had been friends since they were little and in an interview when Oscar was asked who had been his best teammate throughout his career, he didn't mention Marguerite. That hurt her, it hurt her a lot. She had felt like she wasn't important to him, like almost twenty years of friendship meant nothing. After almost two years without seeing each other or exchanging a word, the two old friends will reunite at the 2023 FIA Gala, reviving feelings they never wanted to acknowledge.

MARGUERITE 'margo' CASTELLO, aussie. quokka. 22

OSCAR 'oscah' PIASTRI, aussie. koala. 22

JEZEBEL 'zel' SÜTTEN, swiss. red panda. 22

LOGAN SARGEANT, american. rabbit. 23

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10, pt 11, pt12, pt 13, pt 14, pt 15, pt 16, pt 17, pt 18, pt 19 (+ more to be announced)

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x female oc #oscar piastri x oc #f1 #f1 x oc #f1 x female oc #f1 x female driver #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x oc #op81 #oscar piastri series #oscar piastri fic #f1 fic #oscar piastri fanfic #childhood friends #noraverse 🫧

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chelseachilly · 11 months

Text

king of my heart - pt 8

i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us so, baby can we dance through an avalanche?

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ben’s injury begins to take a toll on your relationship warnings: angst & some cursing word count: 1.8k

a/n: sorry for more angst :( it won’t last long, i promise!!

see my masterlist for previous chapters

benchilwell

liked by yourusername, masonmount and others

benchilwell Absolutely gutted to have injured my ACL again so early in the season. I’m going to work hard to return to the pitch as quickly as possible and get back to playing for my club and country. Thanks for all the support. 💙

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

masonmount You’ll come back stronger ❤️

cmpulisic You got this chilly 💙

jackgrealish Speedy recovery mate ❤️

It’s an incredibly tough couple of weeks following Ben’s injury - for both of you.

The first few days, he’s in so much pain he can barely move at all, on complete bed rest except for the trip to the hospital to get an MRI.

You see something shatter within him the moment the doctor tells him it’s a complete tear of the ACL and he’s looking at 6-9 months for recovery. The Euros are in nine months, which means he could not only miss the rest of the season with Chelsea, but also be unable to play for his country once again. The possibility of that is too grim for you to take after everything he’s been through in the past.

The surgery is successful, thank goodness, and you take a few days off to devote yourself fully to his care. Ben insists that he can ask his parents to come down or one of his mates, feeling guilty that you have to use your vacation time, but you won’t hear of it. You can’t imagine not being here for him at this time.

The day after his operation, Ben’s parents drive down to London to visit. You’ve actually only met them once before, when they were in town for a visit during the summer. Due to Ben’s busy schedule, he doesn’t get home as much as he would like, but they come to London to see him and watch him play as much as they can.

“Ben, sweetie,” you say gently as you enter the dark bedroom.

The pain meds have made him particularly drowsy, and you want to encourage that rest as much possible, so you got him set up in the main floor guest room for the morning while you cleaned his house to make it presentable for his parents. You’ve been living off takeout since his injury and way too tired to clean up after the both of you after waking up with him throughout the night to get him his pain meds or a fresh ice pack.

Ben stirs slightly as you sit next to him and run your fingers through his hair.

“D’you need to change the bandages again?”

“No, babe, not yet,” you tell him. “Your mum just texted, they’re almost here.”

He nods drowsily and sits up, grimacing as he does so. You help him put on a t-shirt and some comfy basketball shorts and grab his crutches so he can make his way into the living room.

His parents arrive a few minutes later. His mum, Sally, comes prepared with all of Ben’s favourite foods, and his dad, Wayne, suggests they put on a rugby match. You know that watching sports is how he and his dad bond, and you appreciate that he had the sense not to put on a football game - especially since Chelsea is playing today in their first match since the injury.

You make everyone some tea and bring it into the living room along with the biscuits Sally made. While Ben’s parents are happily chatting away and updating him on his sister’s uni application process and how his grandparents are doing, he barely says a word - he just sips his tea and stares down at the thick bandages and brace on his knee, a reminder of how long it will be before he’s back to doing what he loves.

“Ben, do you want some more tea?” you ask after he’s finished his cup, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbles, not making eye contact with you or reciprocating your touch.

Although he was quite clingy and wanted you as close to him as possible when he was still coming down from the anesthesia, he’s been a bit distant toward you since. You can’t blame him, knowing how much pain he’s in both physically and mentally, but it still hurts a bit. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even after a tough loss.

“Y/N, would you join me in the kitchen for a moment?” Sally asks with a small smile.

You nod and follow her into the other room, pouring both of you another cup before sitting down at the kitchen island and burying your head in your hands when you think she’s not looking.

When Sally turns around, you try to plaster a fake smile on, but it’s pretty clear that she’s not buying it.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks you in a motherly tone.

“Yeah,” you say, maybe a bit too quickly to be believable. “It’s just been hard to see him like this.”

Sally nods sympathetically. “I can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of him, Y/N.“

There’s a pause as she comes and sits on the stool next to you.

“He can be…difficult when he’s injured,” Sally continues, lowering her voice. “The last bad one, when he missed the World Cup, that took quite the toll on him.”

You nod, your heart aching for him even more.

“I just wish I could take it away,” you confess. “I hate that anything is standing in the way of his dreams. He’s so talented and he’s such a good person and I just…”

As you trail off, there’s a smile on Sally’s face, and she reaches out to grab and squeeze your hand.

“I can see why my son loves you so much,” she says sincerely. “He’s incredibly lucky to have you, and he knows it. So if he’s ever acting like a bit of a prick, just remember he’s upset with the situation, not with you, alright?”

You nod and blink back the tears that had begun to form in your eyes, smiling back at Ben’s mum.

“Thank you, Sally.”

While you try to take Ben’s mother’s words to heart, knowing that you can trust the woman who raised him, things seem to be getting worse as Ben starts to heal.

Although he’s incredibly reliant on you for the first week and a half, needing your help showering and moving upstairs, he starts to become a bit more agile on his crutches as the pain goes from agonizing to bearable.

Since it’s clear that he’s feeling slightly better, and has even begun to see the Chelsea physio, you decide that it might be good for him to socialize a bit. He’s an outgoing guy and he’s used to seeing his mates every day, and lately the only people he sees are you and his medical team.

While you’re driving him home from his three-week checkup, at which he was cleared to start bearing partial weight on his leg as tolerated, you suggest having some of the boys over later.

“They’ve got training,” Ben mutters.

“Not in the evenings,” you point out. “I know Mase wants to see you, and I’m sure Christian and Reece would-“

“I don’t feel like it,” he snaps.

You drop the subject for the remainder of the drive, ignoring his bitter tone and the way he doesn’t say anything else the whole way home.

The next day, you have to go into the office. You’ve been working from home as much as possible to make sure you’re there if Ben needs anything, but you have an important meeting that requires your presence.

When you get home - well, to Ben’s, but you’ve only been to your flat to get some clothes since his injury - you are greeted by Oscar at the door, but are surprised that Ben isn’t at his usual spot on the couch.

Confused and a bit worried, you make your way upstairs and enter the bedroom. When he isn’t in bed either, you feel significantly more worried, calling out his name.

He doesn’t answer, so you try the bathroom, the gaming room, another bedroom - all empty. Finally, you open the door to his home gym, the last place you wanted to find him.

He’s sitting on the floor next to the treadmill, a few weights next to him, sweat on his forehead.

You feel your blood begin to boil with rage, but you try to restrain yourself from yelling at him.

“What are you doing in here?” you demand, putting a hand in your hip.

Finally noticing your presence, Ben takes his earphones out and looks up at you.

“Just a light workout,” he mutters as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“A light workout?” you ask incredulously. “Ben, you’re only supposed to be walking a few steps at a time and with assistance. You should not be working out, definitely when I’m not home.”

Ben refuses to look you in the eye, fiddling with the hem of his shorts.

“I’m serious!” you continue, walking closer to him. “You could injure yourself again or at the very least slow down your recovery-“

“Y/N, I’ve gone through injuries before,” Ben retorts. “I’ll be fine. I’m done sitting around doing nothing-“

“You tore your ACL less than a month ago, Ben! You need time to heal.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he snaps. “Trust me, I’m well aware that my bloody knee is messed up yet again and I’m stuck at home for god knows how long, I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for taking care of you when you’re hurt,” you snap back. “Sorry for trying to prevent you from making your injury worse, for supporting you-“

“By treating me like a fucking child who can’t take care of himself.”

Ben seems to know he crossed a line by the look on your face the moment he said it. Your heart drops in your chest at the cruelty your boyfriend is showing you right now - he’s never said anything nearly this hurtful to you before.

You begin to walk away out of fear that you’ll start crying in front of him, and you can hear him trying to get up behind you.

“Y/N, wait - ow, fuck-“

Despite how angry you are with him, you can’t ignore his grunts of pain as he attempts to stand up, having obviously overdone it today.

You can barely stand to look at him, but you still offer him a hand and help him hobble over to the bench, setting his crutches up on the wall next to him.

“Yeah, you clearly don’t need my help,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I’m going home. Call one of your mates if you need help. Maybe they won’t treat you like a ‘fucking child’.”

Although you can hear him calling out for you, you keep walking, slamming the front door behind you and running to the car as your tears blend with the rain pouring down outside.

tagging: @xjval (just let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters!)

next chapter 💙

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #komh

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hogwartsandhawkins · 2 years

Text

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 1: Trouble With the Iliad

Prove Me Wrong Masterlist

Here's the official first Chapter of my Billy series! I posted a prologue to this series, and it's currently on my page if you still need to read it. Sorry for the trash writing. I'm currently finishing up my midterms so I didn't get a lot of time to proofread, but hope you like it!

Also, Eddie, Chrissy, and Jason are mentioned briefly. Even though they're not introduced till the fourth season and this series takes place right after the second, it just made sense that they would still be seen since they all went to the same school, so I had to give them honorary mentions lol.

Summary: You get paired with an unlikely someone for an English project.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Slight mention of blood, lots of swearing, Billy being a bully, other kids being bullies, let me know if I missed anything!

If anyone were to pay attention to Billy Hargrove, they would realize he would come peeling into the student parking lot at 8:15 am every morning. Never too early to be bunched with the nerds, eager to receive extra time with either an activity or class that morning, but early enough to make his presence known to everyone before class started at 8:45. Exactly thirty minutes is what Billy deemed the perfect time to do, well, whatever he wanted. Whether that be talking with Tommy, leaning against lockers that never belonged to them, checking out random girls as they walked past without Tommy’s on again off again girl, Carol, overhearing, or smoking a cigarette outside, by himself, propped on the hood of his car, ensuring he took particularly long drags when being watched. So it was no surprise that while Steve Harrington sat in his car with Jess Logan, attempting to convince her to do a portion of his physics project, the time changed to 8:15 on Steve’s gold Hamilton, and in came the perfectly polished blue Camaro. As Steve opened his door and dropped his left foot onto the pavement, mid-sentence of “what would be in it for her”, Billy eyed the empty spot next to Harrington’s car, whipped around, and backed into it, causing Steve to jump back into the car and slam his door.

“Dude, What the fuck?!”

“Why don’t you wait your turn, Harrington?” He smiled devilishly at Steve, not breaking eye contact, practically begging Steve to start something. Max Mayfield eagerly exited the death trap muttering “sorry” and shaking her head in annoyance as she quickly dropped her board and skated away, glancing behind her for only seconds before she disappeared towards the middle school. Billy’s eyes began to move towards Jess, and at this, Steve moved in between his friend and the boy’s gaze, shouldering her bag as he said “let’s go”, not breaking eye contact with Billy until he began to walk towards the high school.

Once they were out of sight, Jess looked back over her shoulder and shook her head in disbelief, “What an ass.”

“Yeah, I hear girls say that about Hargrove all the time.”

“Oh GOD, not what I meant Steve!” Jess ripped her bag off his shoulder as he continued laughing at his own joke.

“I mean, it’s fucking Hargrove, you really expect him to ‘wait patiently’?�� Steve raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer, even though he had no need for one.

Steve and Jess entered the hallways together, as they did nearly every morning, and headed straight to her locker, where Steve continued to pester her about his physics homework. “You’re already in advanced physics as a junior, so this stuff should be like cake for you. It wouldn’t be all of it, promise.” Steve leaned against the neighboring locker and gave her the best attempt at a pout he could produce, making Jess roll her eyes.

“I’ll do the FIRST part of your lab. You should be able to do the rest once it’s started.”

“Jess, what would I do without you?”

“Your own homework?”

With this, Steve chuckled, pulled her into a hug, and walked away towards his own locker, yelling “See you at practice!” over his shoulder as he did. She yells the same right before she feels a shoulder shove into her own, causing the notebook she was holding to fall back into her locker. She looked to her left to find her favorite set of teenagers. To the far right, and the one who no doubt bumped her without apologizing, was Tommy, who had his left arm slung over his now on-again girlfriend, Carol, who was looking back at Jess, lollipop in hand and set between her teeth as she sized her up before looking forward again. To her left was none other than Billy Hargrove and another girl Jess recognized as Jane Dodds, a senior that was also on the cheer team. Jess quickly picked up the notebook, slammed her locker, checking it once it was closed to ensure it couldn’t be reopened, and hurried to her first class, not bothering to look back at them.

“Have we seen what the prude’s wearing today?” Billy winced at the belittling nickname his friends had reserved for Jess. “I swear she hangs out with Wheeler too much. Wasted potential.”

“I don’t see this potential you’re talking about, babe,” Tommy jabbed, “She dresses like that for a reason.” Billy chuckled at this, not because he found it funny, he rarely found anything that came out of Tommy Hagen’s mouth funny, but because it wasn’t even a week ago that he was practically drooling over Jess while she was in her uniform after school. “I don’t know though, what you think, B?”

“Eh. She’s all right.” The truth was, Billy thought she was absolutely gorgeous. Her dark hair was always either swept back into the perfect ponytail she wore at practices or games, or was let down, where it bounced slightly below her shoulders. She was still able to keep a slight tan, even in the middle of November, which reminded him of home, and despite what Carol ever said, he liked the way she dressed. But for right now, ‘all right’ was enough to describe the way he felt about her.

“Don’t know if we can call her a prude anymore though. She’s been hanging out with Harrington a lot since his breakup, and you know he was getting it in with Wheeler every night. Wonder what him and Logan are up to now.”

“Ew, Tommy! He told you that?”

“Nah, but he didn’t have to. They were together, like, every day. Why else would he hang with her every day.” Tommy gave Billy a knowing look, which upset Carol, causing her to throw Tommy’s arm off her.

“So you don’t like spending time with me then?”

Thankfully, they reached Billy’s locker, giving him the excuse to break off. “See you guys,” but no one was listening as Tommy sped after Carol, trying to tell her she was being overdramatic. It wasn’t till Billy closed his locker that he realized Jane was still standing right beside him. Billy scrunched his eyebrows at the girl, confused as to why she was still there. She was Carol’s friend, not his.

“She’s completely ruining the cheer team with her weird choreography. I’m not sure what Steve even sees in her.”

What was this bitch going on about? “Who?”

“The prude?”

He couldn’t care less about anything going on in any cheer team, and quite frankly, couldn’t care less about anything going on in this girl’s life. All he knew is he needed to get to class. Jane looked up at Billy with hopeful eyes, wanting to start up an actual conversation with him, one that didn’t involve others, like Carol and Tommy, stealing the spotlight, making him laugh. Billy saw this, saw that she was ready to cling to every word he would say, but he was in no mood for this admiration right now, especially at the expense of someone who he didn’t find half bad, so he did what he normally would avoid doing when trying to sleep with someone, he spoke his mind.

Billy began to smile and shake his head, looking straight into Jane’s hopefully eyes, and just as she started to smile back, he spoke. “Jesus, I don’t care about your little,” he paused, and gestured at her nonchalantly, waving his hand, “thing.” Jane dropped her smile, and so did he, looking at her only for a second more, then disappearing into the crowd, leaving Jane stranded at the locker, wondering what she did wrong.

---

One thing Billy enjoyed about going to a small, shitty school was having to share the gym with the cheerleaders. Normally, they would only stretch in the gym and proceed the rest of fourth period outside. But seeing that it began to rain, the girls were forced to continue practice indoors, a decision members of each team were excited about.

“Okay, as we can see, we have some guests this morning,” Coach looked at the cheerleaders with distasted, not because he had a dislike for them, but because every time they shared the gym, not much practicing went on. “and because we won’t be distraction-free, we’ll be doing a scrimmage for this morning’s practice. Hargrove, Harrington, start picking teams.”

“Girls, you’ll be splitting up into two groups, keep them even. Logan, your group will be cheering for Harrington’s team, Stinnet, yours will cheer for Hargrove’s. I want to see you both working on the choreography. No standing still looking awkward. And stay. tight.”

Alicia Stinnet began to walk to the other side of the court, Jane and her best friend, Katie, following closely behind, wanting to cheer for whatever team Billy was on. Chrissy Cunningham stayed in place until Steve called for Jason Carver to be on his team. She then joined Logan and the rest, giving her boyfriend a thumbs up as she did so.

“Cunningham, Logan, front and center.” Coach Dien had made both herself and Chrissy co-captains this year, making them both in the running for captain next year. At first, this excited Jess. She had been working hard every year in practice, but she only realized the amount of pressure that came with it when the season started, having her coach watch her every move like a hawk, handing out praises to Chrissy while criticizing everything Jess did. She was sure Chrissy was a shoo-in, and she was just an honorary mention. But she still took her place next to Chrissy, both of them exchanging smiles.

“Alright boys. LET'S GO!” Billy and his team began to take their shirts off, making a show of it in the process, no doubt for the girls on their side. Katie and Jane began to blush, both looking at each other while suppressing giggles. Steve looked over at Jess and raised his eyebrows, making Jess roll her eyes in embarrassment for her team. He then began to roll his hips, pretending to also be taking his shirt off.

“HARRINGTON, stop flirting.” His coach then blew his whistle, threw the ball in between both Steve and Billy, and quickly ran out of the way for Steve to win the tip-off, passing the ball to Jason. Jess and Chrissy began to cheer, but for different reasons.

“Go Jason!” “YES STEVE!!”

To say Jess loved watching Steve Harrington play was an understatement. She never missed a game, even if she wasn’t assigned to go and cheer at one, she would go just to watch him. Every time she cheered for him, she sounded less like a cheerleader, and more like a proud parent, making her coach give her a telling look to take it down a notch, sometimes going as far as to say it was ‘un-lady-like’, but Jess never cared, and Steve loved that about her. Jess and Chrissy continued to lead their group through routines, cheers, even the new choreography Jess added, keeping their coach satisfied. They would occasionally cheer Steve and the others on his team on, making sure to keep in sync when doing so, that is until Steve scored his first basket.

“That’s right, Steve! Nice follow-through!” Steve tried to hide the proud smile but failed as Jess continued to loudly clap.

“Logan, you’re still at practice…”

“Sorry coach.”

Billy’s nostrils flared with determination, not ready to let Steve score another time, annoyed by the praise he was getting. Jane and Katie took this opportunity to cheer loudly for Billy, which earned Katie a wink from him. Katie looked over at her best friend with excitement, hoping she would return the favor, but Jane just looked Katie up and down, wearing a half-assed smile and a gaze of absolute jealousy. Katie didn’t notice and turned her attention back to Billy, now even more excited to cheer for the blond. His new set of groupies gave him a deeper sense of conviction, and not wanting to let his fans down, he dribbled toward the basket, clotheslining Steve in the process, and making an easy lay-up.

“Nice, Hargrove, keep it up.”

“What?! That was a foul! Steve’s feet were planted and…”

“Logan,” Steve’s coach didn’t need to look away from the game to know whom he was arguing with, and his warning tone told Jess she was going to lose said argument.

“Logan! I don’t see a smile, and what did I say about staying tight? Good, Cunningham. Get those feet higher!”

Jess huffed in frustration, but of course, did as her coach said and put a smile on her face as she continued to practice, keeping her arms tighter than ever. Billy looked over at her and licked his bottom lip menacingly, “Looks like you’re cheering for the wrong side, princess.”

Eventually, practice was over with Steve’s team leading by 7. Everyone was dismissed to their respective locker rooms after it was made clear that there would be no practice after school for either team. Something about a teacher’s meeting, but nobody seemed to care about the why. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, besides Billy Hargrove, who was still sour from losing.

“Hey, Harrington, maybe next time tell your girl to shut the hell up so we could focus, huh?”

“Maybe next time make more of your shots.”

Everyone in the boys' locker room stopped what they were doing and began egging on the two boys. Billy used the newly formed audience as more fuel to his fire and started walking closer to Steve, chest heaving in the process.

“Alright guys knock it off, we’re a team an- “

“Shut up, Carver,” Billy turned his attention back to Steve, “you know, she’s real cute and all, but she’s a bit of an annoying bitch.”

Steve continued to dry his hair and pulled on his shirt, responding with, “I’ll let her know you think she’s cute,” before making his way out of the locker room, unwilling to spend any more energy on the sore loser.

Billy would continue to gripe about Steve’s personal cheerleader, but it wasn’t her that pissed him off, or even the fact that he had lost to Harrington. If he was being honest with himself, which he barely ever was, it was their relationship, it was the way that there were no ulterior motives behind her praises, no looks of lust, or fear, or longing to get his attention that Billy was used to. He didn’t know exactly what her look consisted of when she looked at Steve, all he knew is that he was jealous of it, of their friendship. And at the Byers’, he got a taste of what it was like to maybe be her friend, the way she just sat there and talked to him casually, the way she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind about his blood-stained teeth, it was different, refreshing. It wasn’t until she looked at him coldly and said the words, “we’re not friends” that it was ripped away from him, and he was stuck with the reality that all he had was Tommy Hagen, who‘s never had an original thought in his life, Carol Perkins, who would most definitely sleep with him behind Tommy’s back, Jane Dodds, who would talk shit about anyone, even her own best friend just to get Billy’s attention, Vicki Carmichael, who he didn’t even talk to, and whoever else went to the parties, the ones where he was never sober enough to remember any of their names the next day, and that would have to be enough.

Jess waited for Steve outside the gym, laughing with Chrissy in the meantime. Once Steve came out to join her, however, Jess quickly stopped giggling and gave Steve a questioning look.

“Hargrove.”

“Ah.”

“He says you’re cute by the way.”

Jess and Steve offered to stay behind with Chrissy while she waited for Jason, and by the time they all arrived at the cafeteria, it was already packed with hungry teenagers waiting in line for mediocre food. Once receiving what Jess believed was meatloaf and mashed potatoes, she and Steve slowly made their way to their table, passing a group who seemed to be filling out what looked like homework at first.

“No, no I already told you, dex is where you want to put the 17, what’s a rogue gonna use strength for?” Eddie Munson seemed to be desperately trying to keep it together while coaching a new player on how to create a character. Eddie looked up for only a second and caught Jess’s eye, giving her a quick head nod, then turning his attention back to the stressed freshman. Jess tried to smile politely back but was too late as he was already flailing his hands above his head trying to explain skill points.

“I can’t believe you used to be friends with him,” Steve said as Jess began to sit down next to Chrissy.

“Who? Eddie? I mean, I was in middle school, Steve. And plus, he was nice.”

“You know he was supposed to graduate last year?”

Jess rolled her eyes at Steve’s response. Like his not graduating on time affected how nice he was.

“Oh hey, Jess, are you coming to the church activity tonight? We’re raking leaves for Mrs. Green tonight. She’s been having trouble since her surgery you know? And then afterward we’re going to read a few verses back at the activity center,” Chrissy then started speaking to Jess in a whisper, “You know, everyone misses you. We haven’t seen you in a while. No pressure, it would just be really cool if you went.”

“Oh, Chris, I’m sorry, but I’ve been really busy with school and everything. Physics is really kicking my a-butt and… I have a whole bunch of other homework. Maybe next time?”

Chrissy’s smile went from hopeful to disappointed, but she nodded her head with understanding. “Yeah, next time!”

Jess hated lying to Chrissy. Deep down Jess knew there would never be a next time, and she believed Chrissy knew that too, though she would hopefully never learn why. There was something that didn’t sit right with Jess after witnessing what really happened to

Barbara, and Will being possessed by something other than the Devil, and El being able to manipulate the world around her. Jess had seen real evil, real demons, and they looked nothing like fallen angels.

---

Seventh period couldn’t come soon enough. English was Jess’s favorite class of the day for the simple reason of there being no wrong answers. She loved being able to interpret texts the way she pleased. There were no formulas to direct her, no complicated steps to remember. It was just her, and whatever book was assigned for the time it was assigned for. The only problem with this class: Billy Hargrove. It wasn’t that he was an asshole during this period. He typically never spoke and sat in the back whereas Jess made it a point to sit at the very front. It had more to do with the staring, and though she wasn’t able to see him throughout the period, she could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. However, she soon felt the discomfort from Billy’s gaze fade away as Mr. Crowley informed them of what they would be reading this next semester.

“Now, because the Iliad is,” He then brought out a thick novel, making a majority of the class groan, “about 700 pages long, you will have all spring semester to read it and complete all projects and assignments. The Iliad is an epic poem written around 800 BC, so it might be hard to understand at times for… some of you, but that’s why I’m putting you in groups of two. Also, the school could only afford enough books for half the kids in your class, so there will be ONE book per group, so please, let the more responsible of the two keep it if you don’t mind. It’s important that you work together. There will be a quiz this Monday for the first chapter.” More groans followed. “It’ll be easy people, just to make sure you actually read the chapter this weekend. Once I call out your partners, get together and figure out a schedule to meet after school for, basically the rest of the school year.”

Mr. Crowley began calling out names, which began being drowned out by the moving desks of students joining their partners.

“Darla Johnson, Jackie Williams.”

“Jessica Logan,” Jess began to get up to receive her copy from Mr. Crowley but stopped suddenly when she heard whom she was paired with, “William Hargrove.” Jess spun her head around to see if it really was him, and when she saw him leave his seat, she rushed over to Mr. Crowley to grab the book.

“Mr. Crowley, about our partners, would it possible if-“

“No switching partners, Ms. Logan.”

Her classmates began to snicker, and Jess turned back around, red with embarrassment. Billy walked up to her and didn’t stop till they were toe to toe. “Where we sittin’, princess?”

Jess bumped him, walking back to her desk. Billy snapped at Jake Fieldway, using his thumb to point upwards, indicating he needed to get up, and then took his desk, scooting it so he was shoulder to shoulder with his new partner.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, Jocelyn.” Jess looked over at him, unimpressed. And there it was again, his shit-eating grin. “So tell me, what is your middle name.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Hargrove, can we please just..”

“Figure out the dates I get to go over to your house?” Billy kept his grin and added a wink for good measure.

“Okay, that’s it.” Jess began to rise from her desk, about to demand a new partner, when Billy reached for her wrist, grabbing her hand instead. “Get off-“

“Wait, wait, just, sit down for a sec.” And Jess sat, though she didn’t understand it, she felt the need to hear Billy out. “Listen, I really need this grade, okay?” Billy’s voice was lower than a whisper, his eyes continued to look around to ensure there were no eavesdroppers, “I’m not exactly doing so hot in this class right now, and let’s be honest, you’re like the smartest kid in this class.”

“Oh I’m smart now? Not even a few hours ago I was an ‘annoying bitch’. And I’m not just gonna let you use me for a grade. Besides, wouldn’t you rather be paired with her?” Jess gestured toward Jane, who was ignoring her partner as he tried to plan study sessions and was looking over at their table longingly.

“Jess, she's a senior, in junior English.”

"Oh, right..."

“Exactly, come on, you won’t be doing all the work, I’m not completely fuckin useless. I’ll be a great partner, promise.” And with this, Billy raised his eyebrows in question, dipping his head down and pressing his lips into a line, waiting for Jess’s response.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jess contemplated this for a moment. It didn’t seem as though Mr. Crowley was going to allow her to switch anyway, and the promise that she wouldn’t be doing all the work like she normally did resonated with her.

“Fine. But you better prove me wrong.”

“Hell yeah, that’s my girl.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What? You like ‘princess’ better?”

“How about we stick with Jocelyn.”

“Very funny.” Billy looked over at Jess while he fiddled with the pages of their shared book, “Sorry by the way.”

“For?”

“The ‘annoying bitch’ thing. But you were being pre-“

“Quit while you’re ahead, Hargrove.” Jess grabbed the book from Billy’s fidgeting hands and turned to Book 1. Billy looked down at where she had turned, and his eyes began to widen.

“Oh fuck.”

This is going to be a very long semester.

---

Jess rushed out right when the bell rang, ready to complain to Steve about her misfortune. However, Billy was hot on her tail, calling out her name while maneuvering passed the desks everyone ‘forgot’ to put back.

“Jess, hang on there, princess. We never talked about when we’d be meeting up. I mean, I didn’t get to finish reading, and it was just getting so good,” Jess rolled her eyes at this, something she figured she’d be doing often, “What’re doing tonight? Let me take you home and we can-“

“Can’t. I’m helping Steve with his physics homework tonight.” They just made it out to the parking lot, and as if on cue, Steve came rushing up to her with, Dustin? “What are you two up to?”

“Ah, see I’m helping this guy style his hair tonight, you know, gotta keep the legacy alive. So I’m gonna head over to Henderson’s after I drop you off and-”

“Well, would you look at that? Looks like your night’s cleared up.”

Steve, refusing to acknowledge him with a response, looked over at Jess, and pointed at Billy, “What the hell is he doin here?”

“We have a project together,” Jess said with a tight-lined smile. “And what about the physics lab?” She tried to hint that she needed him to save her, to get her out of having to spend the first night of her weekend with Billy Hargrove, and continued to move her eyes from him to Billy, until he responded with,

“Ah no, that’s not due till the last day before winter break, we’re good.”

Jess stood there, mouth open, looking at who was supposed to be her best friend in disbelief. What good was a best friend that couldn’t even take a hint that she needed him to agree with her? Before she could encourage Steve to answer differently, Mike, Will and Lucas biked their way over to them.

“Dustin, come on let’s go.”

“I’m riding with Steve today, he’s doing my hair!” Dustin began wiggling his eyebrows excitedly.

“What, why?”

“No but really, why?” Billy chimed in, “How often that kid wears caps, he’ll be bald within the week.”

Dustin dropped his smile and pulled off his hat, “What?! Steve??”

“No, don’t listen to him, you’re not going bald. Hargrove shut it.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Max rolled in on her skateboard, then kicked it up into her hands, “What did I miss?”

“Dustin’s going bald!”

“No, Mike, Dustin is not going bald. I’m taking him over to his house and I’m… teaching him how to do his hair, man that sounds ridiculous the more I say it.”

“OOOO can I come? I wanna see how stupid he ends up looking.” Max then looks at Billy pleadingly.

“You go if Jess lets me take her home.”

All eyes were now on Jess. She happened to catch the three boys on their bikes, shaking their heads at her, warning her not to do it, but then she looked over at Max and the eager look she had. They would have to meet up this weekend eventually. So against her better judgment, she looked at Billy and said, “Fine.”

“Jess, you sure? I mean, we could always do the lab if you wanted to start early-“

Jess looked over incredulously at Steve, “A little too late for that, Steve.”

Lucas, Mike, and Will looked over at Billy, then Jess, with worry covering their features, the night of November 5th still fresh in their minds, but eventually biked away with Lucas shouting, “Henderson’s anyone?” The rest of the boys laughed and all agreed to go straight to his place.

Steve then started entering his car, with Max getting in the back while Dustin stuffed his bike in

Steve’s trunk. He gave Jess a look, and asked, “You’re sure?”

Jess nodded and added, “It’ll be fine.”

Steve looked over at Billy, and then back over at Jess, giving her a look to wish her luck. Dustin then entered the passenger seat and began looking into the passenger mirror.

“Steve! I see a spot!”

“Oh my god, where?!” Max responded excitedly.

“For fuck’s sake, Dustin, you’re not going bald!” Steve slammed his door right after giving Billy a dirty look and then sped off.

After Steve's car was out of view, she turned back to Billy, who was already getting into the driver's side. Jess then entered his car as well, which smelled of cigarettes, cologne, and something else she couldn't make out. Without looking at her, he put his keys in the ignition, leaning one elbow out his window.

“Alright, where to princess?”

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy deserved better #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #billy hargrove stranger things #billy x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4

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futuremrsdrcullen · 2 years

Text

Aren't We Just Terrified - Epilogue

Final Part of the New Moon reader insert fic that I've been promising for FAR far too long.

Summery- The idea of facing mortal danger just to see a ghost of him almost sounded rational here.

I watched as Bella hugged her chest to keep herself whole. I stood by as she chased adrenaline for the smallest glimpse of Edward.

I didn’t feel perfect- standing there didn’t heal me. I let out a small humorless laugh and shook my head accepting that I couldn’t keep pretending that there was never a wound in the first place.

Word Count- 1,819

Warnings- This is New Moon, so it's a lot darker than the first. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ I'm Always in This Twilight READ THAT FIRST!! Depression, abandonment, misunderstandings, break ups, Age gaps because of vampires, angst! It's very angsty, but it gets better! I promise it has a very happy ending.

Notes from me- My name is Claire and this is my second love child. I have finally finished my version of New Moon and I could not be more excited for you guys to see it.

This is book 2 of probably 5 so stayed tuned for the rest of them.

I DO NOT own The Twilight Saga. All rights go directly to S. Meyer.

Read on AO3 <3

Part one <3 Part Two <3 Part Three <3 Masterlist <3

Thank you for being here, I Love you <3

Almost everything was back to normal- the good, pre-life altering heartbreak kind of normal- in less time than I would have believed possible. The hospital was very welcoming when Carlisle explained that his kids didn’t really ‘fit in’ in L.A. I had laughed uncontrollably for a while when he told me.

Bella had started applying to just about every college in the country. Well, Edward was making her apply; she didn’t actually plan on going.

He was allowed in the house, as long as Dad or I were there. Bella continued to sneak him in her window at night. I pretended I had no idea. Dad did not, however, let Bella out of the house, outside of school.

She wasn’t even allowed to go see Jacob, though he hadn’t been very forgiving. He hadn’t spoken to her at all since the day she left. They were all very mad at me and Bella, and the Cullens of course, but that goes without saying.

It was almost as if the last 8 months were just an excessively painful nightmare.

Almost.

I still felt Dad's judgment everytime I went over to the Cullen house. Rose and Emmett stayed home now, so the house usually had super hearing vampires. Of course, Carlisle worked during the same hours Bella was at school and Dad was at work. I had to take every opportunity I could just to see him, and I wasn’t going to sneak him in through my window like a horny teenager.

Edward would hear him anyway and I really didn’t feel like explaining it to anyone.

So I ended up spending extra time at their house everyday. Carlisle got off work most days by 4, so I would go over around 3. This way, there was less of a chance of running into my dad.

Emmett liked watching Buffy with me more than Carlisle did anyhow. Carlisle and I watched the whole series and all of Angel too. He’d watch it if it were on, but mostly he just wanted to read, like the old man he is.

“Dude, why do I kinda hate Willow this season?”

“That’s because she sucks right now.” Willow had always been one of my favorites, but I hated what they did to her character.

“Does she at least get better?”

I cringed. “Well-”

“No. No. Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.” I laughed at his optimism and we got pulled back into the show.

The sun had started to come out and was peaking through the windows. It wasn’t much, and would probably be completely covered in just a few moments, but I tried to soak up as much of it as I could.

It was one of the few times I was thankful of how oblivious Emmett really was. He didn’t notice how long I stared at the light dancing off his skin. He didn’t even notice the sun. He didn’t shy away from it. Their home was a safe haven, they didn’t need to hide here.

And they had welcomed me in and existed with me like I had belonged there all along. This, above all else, was one of the main reasons things had truly started to go back to normal. Some layer of peace had been restored.

“Oh, Carlisle’s home.” Emmett turned to look at the door, his eye catching mine. “Are you alright?”

I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “I just… zoned out, I guess. Sorry.” I faked a laugh, but he completely bought it.

“Welcome home, Pops!” He waved a hand at him. I couldn’t help but cringe a little at the nickname.

Carlisle chuckled. He’d only let Emmett get away with that. Sometimes choosing to ignore him was the safest course of action. “Thank you.”

He hung his scarf and coat on the rack by the door and then, within a heartbeat, He had me in his arms. “Hello, Dove.” I barely registered the words. I laughed and threw my arms around his neck.

He was still hesitant. Always scanning my features for nonverbal consent. Still waiting for me to make each first move. I kissed him quickly, but broke away before Emmett could start with his usual groaning and tell us to get a room.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Painfully slow, but better now that I’m home.” I smiled at him. He swiftly moved us back to the couch. Emmett stayed on one end and we stretched out on the other, like normal. I laid comfortably on his chest. He ran his cool fingers down my arm, before interlocking them with mine. “Where are you?” he nodded towards the TV.

“Season 6, episode 5.”

“Almost at Once More With Feeling, then?” I nodded excitedly.

“She keeps talking about how it’s her favorite episode.” Emmett said with fake annoyance.

“Uh yeah. ‘Cause it’s the best. Now shhh…” I held up a finger to my lips.

His expression quickly changed. He grabbed the remote and paused the show and stared at me, his mouth open. “What?” I tried not to seem too alarmed.

“Y/n!” His open mouth turned into a wide smile.

“Emmett?! What’s up? You’re freaking me out.”

“When did you get a tattoo?” He grabbed my arm and turned it over to get a better look.

Carlisle hugged me a bit tighter while shaking with quiet laughter.

“Oh… I got it like a month ago. Maybe longer.” I started to count in my head, but gave up. I tried to pull my arm back even though he was very strong. I doubted he noticed at all.

“Dude, it’s so cool.” He looked at it a moment before letting go of my hand. “It’s wicked what they can do with ink these days!”

“Wicked?” Carlisle laughed, and pulled my arm up so it rested on his chest

“Yeah man. I had a few. They weren’t nearly as elaborate as yours. Super traditional stuff, ya know? Anyway they went away when I turned.” I’m sure he saw the confusion on my face. “Oh, I guess ‘cause the transformation is supposed to make you like ‘perfect’. Or like it gives you a blank slate. It’s weird… I wonder if Rose knows where those photos of me from my human days are…” And then he was gone.

I pressed my face into Carlisle’s chest to contain some of my laughter. I felt more than heard Carlisle laughing too.

“He’s going to talk your ear off once he finds those photos.”

“It’s perfectly fine. I'm kinda excited, honestly.” I smiled up at him. “I want to know more about his human life. I feel like I get to see what it’s like to be human from the point of view of someone who is no longer human. And it helps me know what I’m getting into.”

“If this is the life you choose, we’ll make sure you’re plenty informed. With years and years of information.”

‘When’ I thought. I almost corrected him out loud. It hadn’t taken me long at all to want forever with him again since most of me had never really stopped in the first place. I knew I would be ready to be a vampire when the time came.

His eyes were gentle when they met mine. His hand rested on my cheek, his thumb brushed my cheek bone. I leaned in to kiss him, but I got a message on my phone. I sighed and begrudgingly sat up to check what it was.

TEXT MESSAGE FROM Chief Father

4:25pm: I SWEAR TO GOD Y/F/N SWAN…

4:25pm: Did you know about the fucking motorcycles?

I knew I had to answer, but I didn’t want to.

Uhm… well…: 4:26pm

4:27pm: OF COURSE!!!

4:27pm: When you get home we’re going to have a very long conversation about lying and hiding things from your father.

Okay… : 4:28pm

I quickly sat up and looked at Carlisle. “So, can I stay here tonight?” He sat up now and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Of course you can, but may I ask what this is about?”

I showed him the messages on my phone. “Jacob Black has chosen war, over forgiving Bella and moving on.”

“Motorcycles?” I nodded, “And war?”

“While you guys were gone, Bella and Jacob rebuilt some bikes to ride and apparently-”

“Jacob told your father.” He caught on and finished the sentence for me.

I winced. “So it would seem.”

“So now, you’re staying here to avoid the ‘very long’ conversation with your father?” He half smiled.

“Exactly!” I kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll have to deal with it at some point, but I don’t want to today.” I added.

He nodded in understanding, but there were still a thousand questions dancing in his eyes. “Was Bella addicted to adrenaline or did she just miss her life being in constant danger?”

“Well, she said whenever she did dangerous things, she could see and hear this like a ghost of Edward, so she kept doing foolish things just so she could see him again.”

He winced and I didn’t know if the words had hurt him or if he was just confused by the information. After a second of processing, his face softened and he said, “You know, in any other circumstance, that would be very romantic. Right now, however, it seems rather bizarre.”

I laughed “Okay. Fair.” he chuckled with me, placing his hand back on my cheek and resting his forehead on mine. “But in our world full of vampires and werewolves, it does feel kind of standard.”

He really laughed at that. “I see your point.”

We sat there, giggling like that for a few quiet moments. I was completely in love with him and still getting used to the feeling of it again.

We would be alright. Because I loved him. Because he loved me. Because, when the time came, I would still choose him. Still want forever with him.

I kissed him. Really kissed him. He kept his hand on my cheek and mine slid into the hair at the nape of his neck. My heart raced in my chest. I knew he could tell based solely on the half smile I felt against my lips. I pulled myself closer to him. I parted my lips and he took the advantage to deepen the kiss.

“Hey Y/n! I found those photos- Oh my god, guys! Get a room!” Emmetts booming voice filled the room again, though he only stood in the doorway.

I rested my forehead on Carlisle’s shoulder laughing harder than I had in months. He reached past me and chucked a pillow at his son.

“Oh you’re fucking on, Old Man.” He threw it right back and I used Carlisle as a shield.

Our laughter filled the room and I knew, deep in my soul, that he would cover me.

Forever.

Taglist

@jakanddexter67 @a-not-so-poetic-poet @bridge597 @cestlavie03 @gaymazinglula

#twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight fanfiction #carlisle cullen x reader #im always in this twilight #carlisle cullen #twilight x reader #new moon #arent we just terrified

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daring-the-devil · 2 years

Text

large black coffee - 5.5

You own and operate a new specialty cafe in Hell’s Kitchen. One day, a blind lawyer walks through the door, and the trajectory of your life is changed for good. (~700 words)

author's note: WOW sorry for disappearing on y'all for a hot minute there! i'm still working on the next part of this series (part 8) but i wanted to write this little interlude that takes place after part 5: matt reflects on saving you. this takes place post-season 3 of daredevil, so there will be spoilers for the entire show in this series!

fic note: no use of y/n or gendered pronouns

warning: some strong language, a brief (very vague) reference to violence

read part 5 here | start at the beginning | series masterlist | request guidelines

~*~*~

At three in the morning, Matt tumbles into his apartment and tears off his helmet, chest heaving, sweat cooling on his forehead. His heart is going so quickly that he’s worried it’ll give out on him, the usual pounding of his heartbeat reduced to a higher-pitched vibration that hurts his entire chest. He presses a hand to his ribs to try to ease the pain, but it doesn’t work.

You weren’t supposed to be there.

You’re never at the cafe that late. You’re usually home by then, the cafe long-closed, everything waiting patiently for your arrival the next morning. You weren’t supposed to be there in the back, in the alley, alone and vulnerable and—

Fuck, he thinks, pressing his fingers to his temples. He can still smell the fear on your skin underneath the aroma of coffee and freshly-baked muffins. His ears still ring with the sound of your voice as you begged him not to touch you. He’d never hurt you—never. But of course you had no way of knowing that.

He was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, responsible for half of the people who ended up in the hospital.

And you weren’t supposed to be there.

Before Matt can even process what’s going on, he’s plucking his phone off of the kitchen counter and calling Foggy.

“Jesus Christ, man, it’s fuckin’ three in the morning,” Foggy groans, his voice raspy with sleep.

“I need—” Matt cuts himself off, his throat closing up. “Fuck, Foggy, I screwed up.”

“Whaddya mean?” Foggy asks. He sounds a little more alert now, worry easing its way through the slurs between the words. “You screwed up? What, did you kill someone or something?”

“No,” Matt says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I—they met Daredevil.”

Matt doesn’t even have to say your name for Foggy to understand what he means. Years and years of friendship will do that.

There’s a rustling on the other end of the call, followed by footsteps, and then Foggy saying, “Explain. Now.”

Matt rattles off his explanation—that you’d been in the alley, you’d gotten attacked, he’d had no choice but to step in. Foggy listens intently the entire time, and even after Matt finishes, he stays quiet for a moment longer, taking it all in.

Before Matt can ask if Foggy’s still awake, Foggy says, “Matt, I say this with all the love in the world: you are the biggest, dumbest dickhead that I have ever met.”

“What—Foggy—?”

“How the fuck is that screwing up?” Foggy asks. Matt can hear the air quotes. “You did the right thing, got in there like a hero, saved their life, and then got out. Easy as pie. What’re you so mad about?”

“I made a promise—”

“Well, I guess you broke it,” Foggy says, “even if you did it by saving their life. Look, I know you want to keep this to yourself, but if you really care about them—if you really want to be there for them—then you have to accept that sometimes, it’s going to be the other guy. And if—if—you decide to tell them, then…well, if they care about you, they’ll accept it too.”

There’s a reason why Foggy is one of the most formidable lawyers in New York City right now: he’s impossible to argue with. Matt sits heavily on his couch, raking a hand through his hair, Foggy’s words echoing in his ears.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve only barely started dating—Matt knows that what Foggy says is true. He’s lost too many good things because of his inability to trust people with his other life. He’s not about to let you go too.

Maybe he’s going all-in too quickly, but… This time feels different. Good. Real.

He doesn’t want to let that go. And in order for it to stay that way, he’s going to have to trust you.

“Yeah,” Matt says. He breathes in, smells coffee. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Foggy says. He’s preening, Matt can tell, and he’s going to be fucking insufferable at work tomorrow. “Now go to sleep. You sound like you need it.”

“Thanks, Foggy.”

“Anytime, bud.”

The call ends, letting the apartment descend into silence, but the raging storm inside of Matt’s head has never been so loud.

part 6

taglist

@your-not-invisible-to-me @hellskitchens-whore @l-a-y-n-i-e @a-girl-called-herby @u23r2p4m @dyzlks @lucypaulette @father4giveme @feliciab1990 @aramora @does-existance-exist @flaskofheads @thegreengoop @urlocalgeek @abbyhaslongshorts @shadybeef @amaryllisblue @ashtasticperson @niallsvirgosun

#fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfic writer #matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x you #charlie cox #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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ashleycatchemm · 2 years

Text

1-18: The Other Side of Hollywood

Part 18 of ??

Pairings: Reggie x Reader, Luke x Julie, Alex x Willie

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) has been able to see and feel ghosts ever since she was little, which made it hard to tell the ghosts from the humans. Everyone has always thought she was a bit crazy, even her best friends, Julie and Flynn. But when three ghosts with a love for music appear in Julie's garage, suddenly (Y/n) doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Song: The Other Side of Hollywood (Julie and The Phantoms Cast)

Season 1 Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

After the show I angrily marched over to the table that Willie and the guys sat at. I was beyond pissed, Willie promised he would keep them away, and he broke it. "Hey (Y/n)-" I noticed the smile on Reggie's face as he greeted me but I paid no mind to it, my attention being solely on a nervous Willie. Slamming my hands down on the table in anger causing all four boys to jump in surprise.

"What the hell Willie?!"

Willie stayed quiet, but his gaze stayed on me, letting me finish talking "You promised me you'd keep them" I pointed towards the boys and said "Away!" Putting my hand back down on the table Willie was quick to explain "I...I know and I'm sorry, but I thought that if I brought them maybe he could help them." I let out a scoff and angrily stared at him, crossing my arms across my chest "Willie, you and I know first hand the 'help' he gives. And I'm not gonna sit around and watch you ruin their afterlives!" Willie stared at me, a sad look crossing his face "Look I'm sorry. You told me your show was at 7:30, I thought if I brought them after your show..." I glared down at the skater boy in front of me.

'I can't draw attention to us, Caleb is probably watching us right now for all we know.'

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Shaking my head I opened my eyes and stated "Caleb told me that he pushed it back to 8." Luke slowly raised his hand as he said "Um.. (Y/n)..." my gaze shifted over to Luke, who's eyes seemed to be wide in amazement as he continued "That was so cool, how you changed your outfit like that!" Alex nodded his head in agreement, a smile also on his face. I looked down at the outfit I was currently wearing, confused as to why Caleb changed my outfit into something that was more of Reggie's style than my own.

My (e/c) eyes finally looked up to meet the bassists forest green ones, his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as his eyes raked up and down my body. They seemed to darken, an emotion I couldn't make out being held behind them. A deep red color coated my cheeks as I realized what he was doing. Reggie's fun soon ended, his eyes widening as he met my gaze, realizing that I definitely saw him checking me out. His cheeks mirrored my own, having the same red color appear on them. the two of us stared at each other for a couple seconds more, feeling the pull in my chest, as I examined every feature on his face. From his fluffy dark brown hair that I've been dying to run my fingers through, down to his light pink lips that I've been wanting to feel against my own.

Dragging my eyes away from Reggie, I cleared my throat while stating "Yeah well, that wasn't me. All though I'm not sure why he..." suddenly it dawned on me, the reason he moved my show to 8:00 around the same time as when the boys got here, the reason he changed my clothes into Reggie's style. Caleb is no doubt a jealous man, and he tends to act on his jealousy in simple ways. But this was a sign, a message, telling me that he knows about Reggie, how much he knows is a mystery, but it's safe to say he already knows everything.

I rested my hands on the table as my gaze sat on the table, fear coursed through me as my stomach churned in anxiousness. Reggie was quick to ask "(Y/n)?" I didn't respond as I was trying to think things through "(Y/n), What's wrong?" I felt a hand rest on top my own, already knowing who it was, but brought my gaze up to the skater boy across from him. "Willie." Willies eyes were held on my own worried ones.

"He knows."

It was those two words. Those two, simple words that caused his eyes to mirror my own, shaking his head in denial. "No. (Y/n). We don't know that he does..." an angry look crossed my face as Willie tried to disagree with me, even tho a part of him knows that I'm right. I opened my mouth to argue, only for Caleb's music to start playing causing me to look behind me, knowing that he could appear at any second. "Shit. I gotta go." Luke was quick to speak up "Go? Go where? (Y/n), tell us what is going on." I shook my head as the announcer started talking "Ladies and Gentlemen" my eyes drifted from Willie, over to a concerned Alex "Tell us what is going on." He stated.

"Back from the dead by popular demand"

My gaze met Lukes as he seemed to be getting aggravated at my silence, I felt the dark haired bassist tug at my hand "(N/n).." my (e/c) eyes landed on Reggie's worried green ones. "Please.." he practically begged for me to say something, anything. The three of them wanted answers and right now, I couldn't give them any. I felt my throat run dry as we stared at each other, his grip on my hand tightening, just a little, as if to tell me that I could talk to him about anything. Our eyes sat on each other for, what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a couple of seconds as the announcer pulled me back down to earth.

"Please welcome Caleb Covington!"

I blinked a couple of times, as a giant pain made its way to my chest, knowing how the evening was going to go. I felt the need to apologize to Reggie before anything even happens tonight, before he sees how things go with Caleb. I needed to apologize, because my soul feels as if it's betraying Reggie. "Reggie." His green hues stared deep into my own (e/c) ones as I automatically captured his attention "I need you to know, that I'm sorry..." Reggie's eyes widened as I quickly let go of his hand and walked off, not giving him the time to respond. I felt the pain in my chest grow worse with each step I took, further and further away from a now confused and worried, Reggie.

I made my way back behind the curtains but watched as Caleb appeared above the stage. "Did you miss me?" He asked the crowd moving his hands in an open gesture in front of him. The crowd cheered a "Yeah!" In response, Caleb basked in the cheers as he stated "I did too!" The crowd laughed in response as Caleb continued"Welcome... to the party of your dreams!" He started floating down as he continued "From the Egyptians to the Druids, to the person sitting next to you, we've all wondered, "Where do we go when that final light is sniffed out?" Allow me to show you." I moved further back stage and grabbed my guitar which was already plugged into an amp.

My view of the boys and Caleb disappeared from my vision as I started to play. Hearing Caleb's voice from beyond the curtains "Let me introduce myself we've got some time to kill, consider me the pearly gates to your new favorite thrills, we could go make history or you could Rest In Peace. But here their ain't no misery cause on the other side we live like kings." I started singing along to the song as it was almost the bands cue to appear.

"What you gonna do? What you gonna do? Let your body loose. Let your body loose. What you gonna do? What you gonna do? Show you a thing or two. Cause you ain't seen nothing"

Suddenly I was back in my fancy red dress at Caleb's side, as I played my guitar and sang with everyone else on stage "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." A waiter came up from behind Caleb taking his cloak off of him. My eyes met Reggie's as I played my guitar and sang, an amazed look sat on his face as he took in the scene in front of him. "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." Caleb was quick to bring his arm around me and turn my head to face him "So welcome to the brotherhood where you won't be misunderstood." My stomach churned in disgust as he dragged his hand down my cheek and gripped my chin almost warningly, as if telling me to pay attention to him and not Reggie.

Letting go of my chin, I avoided looking back at Reggie, so I forced my eyes to be on Caleb, he looked back at the crowd and sang "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." Bringing his arm away from me, Caleb made his way down the steps of the stage and onto the open dance floor at the bottom. He sang by himself "Everything has got a price but happiness is free." Caleb made his way over to the table I was hoping he would avoid, causing dread to sit at the pit of my stomach. "Just so happens your in luck, We got a vacancy" waiters with plates of desserts brought them in front of Caleb but he pushed them away and caught his cane as he stood in front of the four boys at the table.

"We can set the night on fire and break out of the scene"

I suddenly appeared next to Caleb as a waiter removed the center piece from the table. "Your soul print on the walk of fame" I watched as Caleb grabbed the table cloth and swirled it around while lifting it up, only for a girl to appear on the table. "On the boulevard of your wildest dreams" she started dancing on the table, Reggie's eyes were glued to her as she danced, not leaving her figure for even a second. The pain in my chest now feeling as if someone stabbed me with a knife.

"What you gonna do? What you gonna do, boys?"

Caleb sang as he went over to the other side of the table I was quick to sing my part, acting as if none of this hurt, as if I wasn't worried about a thing, as if I felt nothing. I slammed down on the table between the dancers legs while singing "Let your body loose. Let your body loose." This grabbed their attention as they all looked over at me, only for me to move back front the table. Caleb went over to Reggie, patting his shoulder, as he sang "What you gonna do, What you gonna do, boys?" The girl on the table continued to dance, she brought her foot up and almost hit Reggie but Caleb was quick to stop her foot.

"It ain't bragging if it's true. Now, you ain't seen nothing."

I sang, sending a wink to the crowd at the end, considering Reggie's eyes seemed to be elsewhere. "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." Caleb and I disappeared, only to reappear on stage, him standing with his cane in his hands in front of him, as I leaned back against Caleb playing my guitar and singing "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood. So welcome to the brotherhood where you won't be misunderstood. Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." I stopped leaning against Caleb as he threw his cane up towards the drums only to reappear on the drum stand, catching his cane.

He sang "The rain don't blind the rising souls. They got to much to see." The rest of us clapped to the beat as he sang "I got your glamour, got your gold, got all you'll ever need. Let me hear you now." We all started singing "The rain don't blind the rising souls. They got to much to see. (Yeah) I got your glamour, got your gold got all you'll ever need." Caleb started descending the stairs as he sang "Yeah, I said, watch me make a move. Watch me make a move, boys." The rest of us sang "What you gonna do? What you gonna do?" Caleb now started dancing on the dance floor all while making his way over to the boys "Watch me make a move, no I don't disappoint." The boys started moving to the beat, wide smiles on their faces as I suddenly appeared next to Caleb. "What you gonna do? What you gonna do? (Amen!)" My guitar suddenly disappeared as Caleb grabbed ahold of my hand and twirled me around while singing "Watch me make a move, I'm your number one choice." We moved closer to the table causing my eyes to lock with Reggie's.

You could see the hurt and confusion written across his face, but Caleb didn't give me time to process it as his hand moved my head to face him. "What you gonna do? What you gonna do?" Caleb twirled me again but moved his hand out to bring me away from him, only for me to stop. He brought me back as I spun into his arms, a smirk on his disgusting face as he sung "Watch me make a move come on, now give me that noise. A tomb with a view. Ain't it something?" My eyes met with Reggie's trying to tell him that I don't like Caleb and that it's all one huge deal. But my eyes can only do so much, Reggie's hurt look could be seen written on his face and it only hurt me even more.

What really topped things off is when Caleb pointed up at the ceiling, a girl appeared holding her self up using a hoop, her legs spread out underneath the hoop. This grabbed Reggie's attention, and caused his eyes to brighten as he stared at her, all while standing up to get a closer look, but Luke was quick to drag him back down. It felt like someone was twisting the knife that sat in my chest, trying to make my pain worse. But I didn't show it as Caleb let go of me and made my guitar reappear in my arms.

"Yeah...."

Caleb held out the note as the rest of the band started playing again "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." The boys started moving to the beat again, having fun watching and listening to the song. "So welcome to the brotherhood where you won't be misunderstood." Caleb walked back to the middle of the dance floor as I followed close by his side. "Life is good on the other side of Hollywood" I followed Caleb up the steps and to the top of the stage. "So welcome to the brotherhood where you won't be misunderstood. Life is good on the other side of Hollywood." Caleb held out the note and once he stopped I asked "Ain't it the best?" With a wink at the end, two girls held a black sheet over our bodies as Caleb stated after me "Long live the dead!" The girls brought the sheet up to cover our heads.

"Bye-bye"

They stated as the dropped the sheet only for the two of us to be gone.

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#reggie peters #reggie peters x reader #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #flynn taylor #julie molina #caleb covington #luke patterson #bobby shaw #trevor wilson #willie jatp #willex jatp #jatp juke #nick jatp #carrie wilson #fem reader #fanfic #x reader #julie and the fat ones

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xxsycamore · 2 years

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Hi! Can I ask for Arthur x MC with the prompt for December 14th

The holidays may be gone but I still have requests to finish! Managed to make this about Christmas but not on Christmas, somehow. Hope you like it! Thank you for your patience 💗

Naughty suits you better [ Arthur x MC SMUT ]

Rating: E

Word count: 1,348

Tags: Alcohol mention; Established Relationship; Vaginal Sex; Lap Sex; Creampie; Alcohol; Teasing

Check my masterlist here! You can also find all my works on AO3 under user xsycamore. In my profile you can find my Ko-fi if you would like to support me!

Part of ‘Tis the Season for Smut 2.0 Content Creation Challenge, hosted by @voltage-vixen [DAY 1] [DAY 2] [DAY 3] [DAY 4] [DAY 5] [DAY 6] [DAY 7] [DAY 8] [DAY 9] [DAY 10] [DAY 11] [DAY 12] [DAY 13]

DAY 14 - “Why sit on Santa’s lap when you can sit on mine?”

MC's brows furrow as sleep releases its strong grip on her; the realm of dreams slipping away from her mind too soon for her liking. The sheets feel so soft and warm wrapped around her, same as her boyfriend - who lies in a rather random position, she slowly becomes more aware of. Suddenly more and more things start making sense as she recalls the events of last night.

MC giggles as she strokes her boyfriend's messy hair, not minding at all the soreness he left her as a gift. Nor the trail of love marks down her nape that she is yet to see in the mirror, simply can recall the pain-pleasure of. Nor all the items of clothing lying on the floor and making a path all the way towards the bed, she examines as she raises up to a sitting position.

Stretching out her arms above her head with a yawn, she carefully nudges Arthur to the side without waking him up. Tip-toeing her way to the closet, she can’t help but pay attention to the way late afterglow seeps through her whole body, that familiar feeling of having been fucked good. It makes her miss him. She shoots a look at the bed just in time to see her boyfriend grunting and turning to his other side, facing her. His eyes are still closed, but she knows how little it takes for him to notice her absence, resulting in a sleepy pursuit of patting the bed to find her. Once it proves to be futile, a single blue eye would blink open to search for clues.

"Good morning."

MC is first to great, holding his gaze as she reaches in the closet for her bathrobe, unashamed of the fact that she is in full nakedness for his eyes.

Arthur smirks, rolling on his back and shamelessly admiring her naked form through half-lidded eyes.

"Morning, darling. Heading to the bath? Should I invite myself?"

MC wonders if she should be surprised at how quickly Arthur's mind goes to places despite being asleep just a second ago. She prolongs her humming, as if hesitating to the thought of him joining her, all on purpose.

Arthur is soon out of bed, not bothering to put on anything either, way too eager to come behind her and wrap her into a very touchy hug. He places kisses all over her collarbone, and her cheeks, and everything he can reach from behind, while she tries to retrieve some of the discarded clothes of last night. Arthur quietly promises to take care of all of the mess for her later, mentioning something about tiring her out too much last night. Which leads to stray conversations about the party they went to and the day as a whole - all while MC steals every other word from Arthur with an illicit kiss.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a very naughty girl, Mrs. Doyle?"

Arthur barely needs to try and make his voice sound seductive when whispering those words to her. In that husky tone of his, still marred with sleep, he calls her the one thing she melts to be called. Of course it works.

"I don't know, I didn't get the chance to sit on Santa's lap this Christmas. Maybe he would've told me."

There is a tang of laughter in what rumbles in Arthur's throat, but soon it's gone - a pair of hands wrap tightly around MC's waist, tugging her backwards all the way to the bed. Arthur lets her fall backwards in the safe fall of his embrace, on his lap, as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Why sit on Santa's lap when you can sit on mine instead?"

The gasp leaving her lips soon merges with another, smaller one, a silent acknowledgment of his morning wood that lightly pokes her underside. Their nakedness is suddenly very convenient, and the bath can wait.

Arthur has a point; no other seat at all in the whole world could compare to what this one entails, and naughtiness actually works in her favor when it comes to it. So she doesn't hesitate to lift herself just a little bit on her toes, legs falling from each side of his lap, delicate fingers wrapping around his length to stroke it once, twice, and guide it against her glistening pussy.

Arthur entertainers the thought that part of this sweet wetness that coats his cock could as well be…leftovers from last night. Through the curtain of a pleasant alcohol haze, he remembers the sight of her leaking pussy moments after stuffing it full of his cum.

It makes him miss it. A little nudge and MC complies with his silent plea to finally descent over his cock and take it inside. Both lovers moan at the connection of their bodies. He gladly takes it from there, locking her hands behind her back and rocking her back and forth. The tight, hot slide of his length inside her is heavenly enough to drive him crazy, pace not slow and teasing but fast and merciless, longing to drag her along in the depths of it.

"Say my name, luv. Say who makes you feel so good first thing in the morning."

MC whines as his pace picks up and wet slapping noises fill the room, her own noises mixing in them. It should be enough of an answer for her boyfriend, but knowing him, he'll be dying to hear his name slip from her lips. And she indulges him, turned on on her own at the sound of the syllables falling from her mouth because of how utterly his she feels in that moment.

"ARTHUR!! Ahhh- Arthur, please-"

He mutters something in the back of her neck, unable to hold back much longer as he feels almost there. One of his hands snakes its way to her front and between her widely spread legs, finding her mound and rubbing on it in time with his thrusts. His deep blue eyes fall shut, eager to lose himself in the moment together with her as soon as the tale-tell noises of her culmination get to his ears.

MC's orgasm comes intensely, much like a lightning striking through her core, legs buckling as Arthur's fingers try their hardest to chase after her quivering form; each harsh and direct brush against her clit sending her in another tremor.

Arthur's breath comes out heavily, halting for a moment as if forgetting to breath, all concentrated on her pleasure. Until his own orgasm peaks, evoked by witnessing how damned sexy she is, thoroughly fucked like that. He falls backwards in bed, taking her along with him to rest on his torso as he holds her legs raised and spread as he keeps thrusting from beneath. It doesn't take long for him to come undone like that, hips bucking as he bottoms out in her core.

MC moans out as she feels rope after rope of his hot cum coating her insides, feeling weightless and used in the best way, legs held open for her love to thrust freely in her.

In the next moment her legs are gently put down, Arthur's warm hands caressing over her forms before wrapping around her middle and settling there for a much-needed post-sex cuddle. Not feeling like moving at all, not even to roll on his side, Arthur whispers sweet praises in her ear.

"You know luv, I call you a good girl but you keep proving the opposite. The year's just began and you're already making it into the naughty list, aren't you a little vixen?"

"Mmhm… I wouldn't have it any other way."

Arthur laughs hoarsely. His girl didn't use to be as open and needy when they first starting dating, he worries about what he has created.

Oh, but, this means that now they're likely to be on the same page about doing at least one more round before heading for the bath. Arthur knew it was a mistake to even attempt to leave bed so early this morning.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @leonardoism @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thehappycat123 @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @theuwuisunreal @ravenarld @kyokirigiri-22 @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @trishtori @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @ikemenlover24 @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @fun-ghoul-neela @salty-fed-up-bitch @coornn @cilokgoang @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ichigostellaglynn let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #Ikemen Vampire Arthur #IkeVamp Arthur #IkeVamp Smut #Ikemen Vampire Smut #IkeVamp fanfiction #Ikemen vampire fanfiction #tis the season for smut

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ryosmne · 3 years

Text

You're gonna fry your brain.

Hello everyone, since it's finals season and we're all probably really dead inside, I decided to self indulge in some tattoo artist! Sukuna writing, so here's this brainrot that won't let me focus on studying. You can read more of this au in the au masterlist.

I've been trying so hard to finish up a bartender! Dabi fic I have in the works for too long, hopefully I can get around to it too. After finals are done I'll be writing a lot more that's for sure.

Tattoo artist! Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings: language, suggestive tones, that's it.

Finals are by far the worst thing about college, y/n knows that the hard way. She's been stressing herself out for the past few days, maybe weeks, going over the same material again and again. She'd constantly argue that she really needs to pass with an high grade that's why she's so obsessive over it.

Sukuna had tried multiple times to help her ease her nerves, he's been there, although he was the type who never really stuck his nose in a book for too long, regardless, his best girl needed a break, no matter how hard she denied it.

Y/n had declined his invitations of going out, she dropped by the shop a few times, bringing Sukuna some food, but he could tell she was slowly burning herself up.

Today was no different, y/n had been writing everything down all day to help memorize it better. So many hours has passed since she started her study session but she didn't even notice that her clock read 8 pm already.

Sukuna did notice, y/n had been barely responding back to his texts and it was time he took matters into his own hands.

The earpiercing doorbell pulled y/n out of her trance like state, she quickly got up from her desk to go and get rid of whoever just rung it.

"Dollface, I was beginning to think you had died in there."

There was Sukuna, leaning in her doorframe, looking as good as he always did, in a plan white t shirt and a gray pair of sweatpants, holding a few bags and a huge basket.

"not quite, what's all this?"

Y/n motioned to the bags he had.

"Nothing much, just some things I picked up for you, will you let me in? this basket is fucking heavy."

No, the basket wasn't that heavy, Sukuna could carry it just fine, he just wanted to make sure that y/n didn't have a chance to deny him.

Y/n stepped aside to let Sukuna in, and he went straight to her kitchen, dropping his bags on the table.

"Thanks for dropping by babe, but I really need to finish the last three chapters I have left."

"Y/n, you're going to fry your brain at this rate, no more studying for today."

"But-"

"No buts, you won't read another sentence today. We're destressing together."

Turns out, Sukuna had brought over many different things. He's not the type of guy to shy away from anything, so the first thing he did was to grab y/n and drag her into her bathroom.

Sukuna had taken mental notes the first time he looked through y/n's skincare products, he was able to determine her skin type and he went a bit crazy, buying her different things to try out.

"You are insane, that's drunk elephant, why did you get this many things?"

"Because you have the really terrible cheap stuff, now shut up you're going to eat the soap if you keep talking with cleanser all over your face."

Now, y/n's skincare wasn't bad, Sukuna had expensive taste and he's a bit of a brand snob

Sukuna gently poked her cheek with a smile as y/n's face distorted because she had in fact tasted the cleanser and Sukuna could only laugh at her before she flicked some into his mouth too.

"Don't kiss me with a face mask on you brat"

Y/n let out a soft laugh, Sukuna was doing his best to concentrate at the task at hand. Matching y/n's nail polish to his. Y/n had just finished painting his, matte black like he requested but y/n gave him some white polish on his ring finger. Sukuna had argued for a bit, saying it didn't look good and that he didn't like it, but gave in after y/n gave him a puppy face, can you blame him?

"But you look so cute like that."

Y/n complained, knowing that this little comment was going to feed Sukuna's ego more.

"I know doll, but artificial orange doesn't taste as good as it smells."

Y/n once again wasn't wrong, his cocky attitude always creeped in at times, not that she minded.

Time passed fast with watching trash reality shows on y/n's couch, after their very own self care day, Sukuna made sure to fix something they could both eat. Now they were engolved in each others arms, y/n's sleepy eyes staring up at him.

"How are you feeling, doll?"

Sukuna's hand found her hair, gently resting on top of her head.

"Much better, you're the best you know that?"

"I've heard it once or twice, I'll give you reasons to say it more often"

He gave her a gentle smile, leaning closer to steal a kiss, a little more intimate than the ones they shared earlier.

" 'Kuna, I'm sorry I was so stressed and distant this week, I probably worried you-"

"Don't be stupid, it's ok, I just want you to know I'm here for you, and it's just finals. You're a smart cookie, I'm sure you'll do great."

Y/n found his words reassuring and nuzzled closer to him, letting her lungs burn with his scent that never got less intoxicating.

"Thank you 'kuna, what would I do without you?"

The last few words came out slurred, but Sukuna understood everything, y/n's breathing got steadier against him.

"I don't know doll I'm just glad to have you here, I promised to take good care of you."

And just like that, y/n was fast asleep next to him, he didn't mind her uncomfortable couch one bit all he cared about was how at peace she looked. Maybe he would move her to her bed later, he couldn't bring himself to do it now.

The next morning, y/n found herself on her bed, Sukuna had almost woken her up getting ready before he left to go to work, but he managed to put her right back to sleep with a kiss on the forehead and a light "don't wake up yet doll".

Y/n made her way to the kitchen, Sukuna usually left a little letter for her on the nightstand by the bed, he must've been in a rush today.

Not quite the case.

Sukuna not only made her, her favourite breakfast, he also left post it notes in some places.

You suck at food shopping, thank me later.

Was written on her fridge.

So that's what all the bags were for, y/n didn't find out last night because of how tired she was, and how much fun she had being around sukuna.

He had filled up her fridge with everything she ever needed to make a meal for herself or have a snack. Let's be honest Sukuna just wanted to cook for her again.

Another post it was found in her bathroom cabinet.

You're probably gonna get mad at me for this but I'm not sorry, you deserve it.

The poor cabinet was stuffed to the brim with brand name skincare that made anyone's wallet scream in anguish and a lot of bathbombs. Upon closer look y/n almost cried at how attentive Sukuna was, he took extra care to look out for her skins needs.

Y/n found the last post it on her desk while she did her revision.

Don't overwork yourself doll, you've got me for that.

Y/n brought Sukuna cupcakes from seven different bakeries to try that day.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Sukuna left early again?"

Megumi asked, the day had been going pretty slow he wasn't surprised his friend dipped.

"Yeah, he left this behind though."

Geto held up a very nice looking white shop bag, a slight glimmer in his eye let the rest of his friends know he planned something.

"So? What's in it anyways?"

Gojo was resting his chin on his hand, blank expression on his face, completely unamused by Geto's discovery.

"Give me that"

Nanami swiftly snatched the bag, curious to see what was inside of it. He reached in and retrieved several wrapped round objects.

"Bathbombs?"

He questioned puzzled, but then his lips tugged upward.

Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and Geto, each got two bathbombs, and even though they would outright say it, they were pretty damn exited to drop them in their bathtubs. That's what Sukuna gets for avoiding clean up.

Sukuna entered the shop barely greeting anyone and begun looking around. Fuck he was looking for something, everyone tried to keep their composure.

"Have you seen a white bag?"

He finally looked at the group of men before him.

"like a backpack? No "

Megumi spoke, Sukuna begun thinking he was remembering everything wrong, that's untill he saw something sticking out of Geto's pocket. That's for sure a bathbomb he bought for y/n

"You motherfuckers, how low can you stoop to steal my girls bathbombs?"

Hey it's me again, though I'd add that here, if you have specific skin demands I tried to cover that in here so everyone can enjoy it, I have lots of allergies and skin concerns so I'm kinda sensitive to that stuff. Hope you had fun reading, remember to take it easy, untill next time :>

Tag list: (comment or message me and I’ll gladly add you)

@artist4theworld @skatercashew

@divineteaty

@in-inception

@not-another-ackerman

@jjk-is-my-shit @ilovemarvel99

@thegaymadafakkasworld @readinghassavedmylife @ruler-of-the-skies

@bluebananasssss

@ghost-of-todoroki

@sabsaocit

@heaveus

@jackysenpaii @rebenok-zimnayaya

@aam1na @sore-eyes@ryan249057 @goobygoobster @charlie-xo @kamisamaundercover

@shadoweepingscream

@sunfloweroranges

@haleypearce

@crapimahuman

@fiona782

@levi-ships-eruri

@chocolatecake764

@stupid-simp33 @ciphersighs

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #tattoo artist sukuna #au ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #au sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #a happy ryosmne

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myfavoriteficss · 3 years

Text

Marvel Angst Masterlist

This Masterlist includes all of the Marvel angst I have reblogged. The angst will range from very light to heavy depending on the fic. Enjoy.

Updated: 07/17/2021

Marvel Masterlist's

Masterpost

KEY:

Genre: (F) = Fluff, (A) = Angst, (D) = Dark, (J) = Jealousy, (V) = Violence, (H/C) = Hurt and/or Comfort

Trope: (ER) = Established Relationship, (EL) = Enemies to Lovers, (FL) = Friends to Lovers, (FE) = Frenemies, (FD) = Fake Dating, (F/B) = Friends with Benefits, (BU) = Breakup/Already Broken Up, ( C) = Cheating, (UL) = Unrequited Love, (SB) = Slow Burn, (P) = Pregnancy, (BS) = Bed Sharing, (SR) = Super Reader

Type: (AU) = Alternate Universe, (18+) = Mature/NSFW, (HC) = Headcanon

1. Wanda Maximoff

Written by: @aaron-despair

Not your fault (ER, F, A)

Written by: @abimess

It only takes the holidays (AU, A, F): (1) It only takes a commercial - (2) It only takes a pothole - (3) It only takes a lunch - (4) It only takes a party - (5) It only takes a Christmas tree - (6) - It only takes an unexpected visit - (7) It only takes a weird noise - (8) It only takes a fund-raising event - (9) It only takes a starry sky - (10) It only takes a Christmas gift - (11) It only takes a decision - (Epilogue) It only takes a deed

Too familiar, too hurtful (EL, A, F)

Marry me (A, F)

Written by: @aestethick

Roses (A)

Written by: @allyouthought

always (F, A)

Written by: @aphrodite-made-me-write-it

Cast A Spell (On You) (AU, A)

Written by: @badgerfic

the serum (A, V): Part 1

Written by: @buckyssoldat

(UL, A) (1) Not in that way - (2) Gone

Written by: @c-is-writing

gaze into my mind (A, F)

good enough (A, F)

Written by: @cantcontroltheirfear

Odds (AU, A): (1) Another One - (2) I’m Ready - (3) Bar With No Name - (4) That Much Is True - (5) Still - (6) Second to Last Last - (7) Even

Written by: @captainhotch

Cat and Mouse (A)

Written by: @certifiedskywalker

Waiting for Home (A)

Written by: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba

Je Te Laisserai De Mots (A)

Written by: @delfiore

i sunk in all the memories (A)

better than losing you (ER, A)

Written by: @desparadowrites

The Very Awful Not Good Bad Day (SR, A)

Written by: @empyreanwritings

Almost Lost You (FL, A, F)

Written by: @fallinforevans

you have me (FL, A, F)

Written by: @forever-your-soldat

(ER, A) (1) Too Much - (2) Her Love

I Can’t Hurt You (A, V)

Written by: @frostedfaves

All Too Well (ER, A)

Written by: @harringtons-imagines

Monster (A, F)

Written by: @helloalycia

just a kid (ER, A, V, D): [one] - [two]

Written by: @hiiraya

(A, F) (1) one last dance (rewrite) - (2) one last chance (rewrite) - (3) with you

loving you had consequences (rewrite) (BU, A)

you are my sunshine (rewrite) (A)

Written by: @jabbagabba

La La Land (A): Prologue

Written by: @jbbarnesnnoble

(ER, C, A) (1) Out of Everyone Else - (2) It's Me You're Gonna Miss

Written by: @kingsmanandqueens

Winsome Enigma (A, F)

Written by: @lesbian-lilo

Mission Mishaps (H/C, F, A)

Written by: @lowkeyerror

I Have To See Her Again (A, V)

Written by: @m-lesmxrales

Safe & Sound (ER, A)

Written by: @marvel-wlw

Somewhere to Run (A)

Written by: @marvels-writings

Broken Sense (UL, A)

Dreams that Come True (F, A)

Always Safe (A)

Scared (A, F)

Hurting You (A, F)

Wanted More (ER, C, A)

Written by: @marvelsdc22

What We Thought We Lost (AU, FL, A, F): Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @may-fanfic

I Just Want You (A, F)

Written by: @mcuwritin

Mission gone wrong (A): Part I - Part II

Frenemies? (FE, A, F): Part I - Part II

Written by: @missmonsters2

About You (A): Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X

(ER, A) (1) Under the Light - (2) You Found Me

Find Your Way (BU, A)

Last the Night (ER, C, A)

Written by: @mymymarvel

Never Is Enough (A)

Written by: @nermalina

so in love. (A, F)

Written by: @nervoustrack

We're out in the open sea (A)

Written by: @nothingbutimagines

Last Christmas (UL, A, F)

Written by: @procrastinatingsapphictrash

The pact (FL, F, A)

Written by: @queenxxxsupreme

1950 (A)

Written by: @randomshyperson

Sorry for your loss (FL, A, F): (1) I will grieve - (2) I will try - (3) I will get better. - (4) I will move on - (5) I will love again (18+)

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy (AU, FL, F, A): (1) The First Year - (2) The Second Year - (3) The Third Year - (4) The Fourth Year (Part I) - (5) The Fourth Year (Part II) - (6) The Fourth Year (Final Part) - (7) The Fifth Year (Part One) - (8) The Fifth Year (Part Two) - (9) The Fifth Year (Part Three)

Left Behind (FL, A, V, F): (1) Muddy Waters - (2) R.I.P to My Youth - (3) No Time to Die - (4) Save Me - (5) Someone You Loved - (6) Once a Promise, Always a Promise. - (7) Start a Riot - (8) Fine Line - (9) Please Notice - (10) Atlantis

Road to Healing (FL, A, F, 18+)

Drivers License (AU, FL, F, A)

The One (AU, A, F)

Written by: @rebeliz777

August (C, F/B, A): Part I (18+) - Part II (18+) - Part III

Again (A)

Crumbling down (A)

Written by: @reminiscingtonight

(BU, A) (1) Better By Now - (2) Run Into You - (3) Still the Same

(FL, A) (1) Through The Dark - (2) If I Fall - (3) Breaking Point

(ER, A) (1) Cellophane - (2) Apologies

(AU, ER, A) (1) Break My Heart Again - (2) Burn It All Down

(FL, A, F) (1) Last Kiss - (2) All I Know - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - (6) Breathe (It’s Out Of My Hands)

A Different Corner (A)

Need You Now (A)

Let’s Hurt Tonight (ER, A)

Ghost of You (A)

Lego House (AU, FL, A, F)

Not Ready For Goodbyes (ER, A, F)

Hold On (ER, A)

Twilight Time (ER, F, A)

Feel It Twice (A)

I’ll Never Love Again (A)

Written by: @rogue-barnes-16

I’m A Monster (FL, A, F)

Written by: @saintprinsessa

Feeling You (A)

Written by: @sapphicshots

to grow old in (ER, A, F)

falling (FL, A, F)

Written by: @shesaidnomaam

Witch & Wound (A, F): Part 1 - Part 2

Two A.M, Two Bottles In (A)

Written by: @somewhatgreatexpectations

Love Goes (FL, C, BU, A, F): (1) Latch - (2) One Day at a Time - (3) Fire on Fire - (4) Like I Can - (5) Breaking Hearts - (6) Another One - (7) Palace - (8) Writing’s On The Wall - (9) For The Lover That I Lost - (10) Leave Your Lover - (11) Nirvana - (12) Lay Me Down - (13) To Die For

Love Me (Or Let Me Go) (AU, A, F): (1) Leave, Then Go - (2) If you need me, let me know - (3) Walk Away - (4) In the Middle - (5) Love Me, or Let Me Go - (6) Don't Go - (7) Separate Ways - (8) Set You Free - (Alt. Ending) Home

Written by: @spoopy-imagines-writer

Behind These Hazel Eyes (A)

Written by: @starshipsofstarlord

Two Beds, One Home (A, F)

Testing. Testing. (A)

Written by: @subtlebucky

she lives in daydreams with me (A, F)

Written by: @thenatashamaximoff

Dangerous Love (C, BU, A, V, SR): Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Epilogue

Broken Love (C, A): Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Written by: @thewitchandtheassassin

Guilt is an Ugly Mistress (ER, A)

Of Love and Of Loss (ER, A)

Written by: @waiting4inspiration

Why? (A, F)

Written by: @wandaownsthisass

If You Need Me (A)

Written by: @wandaromanova

Should’ve Been You (ER, A)

Written by: @wandsolsen

Champagne Problems (ER, A)

Written by: @wellsayhelloaagin

Cross My Heart (ER, A): Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @wokeupinawalnut

(ER, BU, A) (1) Six Degrees Of Separation - (2) Wherever This Goes

Save The Best For Last (FL, A, F)

Written by: @young-and-bitchy (deactivated)

Here You Come Again (BU, A)

Written by: @8plasma

children of tragedy (A): [part 1] - [part 2]

2. Natasha Romanoff

Written by: @aestethick

Last Kiss (A): Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @allfiguredout

Home (A)

Written by: @aphrodite-made-me-write-it

To Mend (A, F)

Written by: @c-is-writing

untangled (F, A)

Written by: @crimsonspy

Don’t shut me out (FL, SB, A, F)

Written by: @demxters

bluebird (A)

Written by: @femreader

Don’t Go (H/C, A)

Written by: @higherfurther-romanova

Then Finish It (A, V, D): Part 1

Written by: @hiiraya

(A) (1) didn't know what I had - (2) you were good to me - (3) what I want

closure (A)

Written by: @jbbarnesandnoble

Rainy Season (A)

When We Were Young and Naive (AU, A)

Written by: @jumbojamba47

Guest Room (A)

Written by: @lesbian-deadpool

New Surroundings (A): (1) Glad You Are Back - (2) Glad To Be Home

(A, F) (1) We Were On A Break! - (2) I’ll Be Home For Christmas

A Fresh Start (A, F)

Written by: @lilxberry

I Watched You Die (A): Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Written by: @lndlover

Somebody else (C, A)

Written by: @lonelyandlovelorn

Loophole (F, A)

Written by: @marvels-writings

(ER, C, BU, A) (1) Used To - (2) World Turned Upside Down - (3) My Forever

Not Meant to Be (A)

A Reason to Leave, a Reason to Stay (A, F)

Perfect (A, F)

Past Come to Life (A, F)

Piece of Your Heart (A, F)

Make it Right (ER, A)

Can’t You Tell? (A)

Written by: @marvelouslytrekking

Finding You (A, V)

Written by: @marvelsbanner

Someone to You (A, F)

Written by: @may-fanfic

Because I love you (A, V): Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @missmonsters2

Lead Me Astray (ER, A)

Leave Me Lonely (ER, A)

Stars Falling (A, F)

Written by: @natasha-danvers

Oh (A, F): Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Longing (A): Part 1

Written by: @pietrosgf

the sweet escape (A): (1) what died didn’t stay dead - (2) you’re alive in my head

Written by: @pigeonp0st

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #2 (A): Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @procrastinatingsapphictrash

Can’t get over her (A, F)

The rest of my life (A, F)

A little help from the team (A, F)

Doubt (A, F)

Drunken confessions (A, F)

Written by: @quickpiet

Walk it off (A, F)

Written by: @rebeliz777

You saved me (A)

Written by: @roger-that-cap

(ER, C, A) (1) cardigan - (2) tolerate it

peace (A, F)

Written by: @romanoffswifey

Point Blank (A): Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @saltybaltic

Come Back To Me (A, F)

Written by: @sapphicshots

i can’t live without you (A, F)

Written by: @satxnsupreme

Welcome home (A)

Written by: @shesaidnomaam

Natasha x Reader (A): Part 1

Written by: @startrekkingaroundasgard

“I didn’t mean it.” (A, F)

Written by: @thenatashamaximoff

Dangerous Love (C, BU, A, V, SR): Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Epilogue

Broken Love (C, A): Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Written by: @thewitchandtheassassin

All That Matters (A, F)

Written by: @vanillann

real or not real? (A)

Written by: @vulpe-fox

Seeing You (A)

Written by: @wandavixen

Hurt (A)

Written by: @wannabe-fic-writer

Old But New (A, F)

Fed Up (A)

Written by: @wildhoney323

Moving On (C, A, F)

Written by: @winedrunkbarnes

Roses and Regrets (A, F)

Written by: @wisewidow

Gunshot Roses (A)

Written by: @wokeupinawalnut

(ER, BU, A) (1) Talks That Break Hearts - (2) Talks That Mend Hearts

Written by: @yourmcu

Bloodlust (A, F, V)

3. Carol Danvers

Written by: @hiiraya

stay a little longer (rewrite)

the one (that got away) (rewrite)

get well soon (rewrite)

until the end

Written by: @missmonsters2

Move Me Along

Written by: @wlw-imagines-blog

We Don’t Talk About It

4. Yelena Belova

Written by: @a-simple-imagine

Left Behind

Written by: @empyreanwritings

Old Habits Die Hard

Written by: @marvels-writings

Stay

Written by: @nermalina

mild interference.

Written by: @rogue-barnes-16

Braids

МОЯ ЛЮБОВЬ

Written by: @thewitchandtheassassin

Promises

5. Michelle Jones (MJ)

Written by: @borntobewondering

& Ever

Written by: @heckin-good-holland

In Her Arms

Written by: @leiasfanaccount648

Good Times

Written by: @sensestinging

Curious - Unfolding

#masterlist #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #carol danvers x reader #yelena belova x reader #michelle jones x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #dom’s recommendations

542 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

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