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peachesofteal · 1 day

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Simple Math / Part Thirteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Nurse!reader. Domestic slice of life. Feelings of fear, self loathing, anxiety, dread. Complicated emotions. Verbal depiction of domestic violence. Non sexual intimacy. Scars from cigarette burns. Very brief daddy kink. Sick character (not reader). Comfort. Confessions.

The park is quiet.

You hoped it would be- middle of the day, in the middle of a work week, in the middle of the city. There are a few people around, walking, running, lingering. Enjoying themselves, the warmth of the sun on their face, a bright spot amid a typically grey winter.

It makes it easier. To look.

To watch.

To wait.

And you do. You wait, and you wait. You sit steady on the park bench, pretending to be remotely interested in the rough paperback cradled in your lap, spine already cracked flimsy by Simon’s grip. It’s Stephen King. Carrie, if you’re precise. A story of stolen girlhood and rage.

You swallow the shards of glass and acid the pages bring forth.

Deep breath.

The breeze gusts, and your shoulders nearly shake. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve sat out in the open like this.

Easy prey.

You may have always been easy prey. Easy and young and stupid, easy, and naïve and manipulated. You fell for every trick in the book. You didn’t see the signs until it was too late.

Still, you watch. You wait.

You considered, for a while, that if Philip was around, if he was in the city, looking for you- he’d arrive here. Like magic. Like a classic villain, materializing in a plume of smoke.

And while it’s not exactly comfort you feel as each minute ticks by and he fails to appear, there’s relief in your soul for certain.

It’s a risk, to sit here. A question. With an answer, for now.

Will he? Won’t he?

Today, the answer is he won’t.

Your phone vibrates, and you don’t need to look at it to know, guilt worming its way into the depths of your heart, anxiety piquing as you imagine both Simon and Johnny at their house, their home, worried.

Don’t fool yourself. Don’t give yourself too much credit. Don’t get carried away.

Someone clears their throat over the back of the bench, and you whirl.

“Hey, sorry.” Your pulse slows from a gallop to something slower, and you shake your head.

“You can’t sneak up on me like that.” The man shrugs his second apology, legs spreading into the spot next to you. You’re practiced at this, familiar. Knowledgeable enough to keep your hands from shaking, even though the tremor builds through your bones.

“Been waitin’ for you to call.”

“I’ve been busy.” You eye the black bag in his hands, a small black fabric pouch, gold zipper glinting in the sun. “That everything?” He nods.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

“Just seems strange, is all. Pretty, polished thing like you, needin’ all this. Most of my clients are more… rough around the edges.” Your teeth dig into your tongue. Already, this guy is less discreet and more obnoxious than your last purveyor. You wish you had hidden your face.

Like Simon.

“We’re solid, then?” You unzip the pouch, cursory eye roaming over the collection inside, checking off a mental list. Usually, you would feel relief at this point, but today, it sours and rots. Liberation burns into a roaring wave of uncertainty, and your fingers tighten over the zipper.

“We’re good.” He stands, giving you one last long look, and then his mouth shifts into a half smile. “Good luck.” Your polite nod is strained and forced. A nonverbal fuck off.

He takes the cue, and slinks away, disappearing around a corner and out of sight.

The bag weighs heavily in your hands. A terrible reminder of the truth.

You’ll never have a life. You’ll never have a family. You’ll always be alone.

You’ll never be pretty or polished or perfect.

You’ll always be this.

Scarred. Sectioned off. Scared.

Desperation wells, and you close your eyes. You see Johnny, and Simon. Their faces. Sunlight in bleak darkness.

Love and family and strength.

The ache in your chest widens. You want to be home, with them. Curled up, with them. Sitting at the table and eating dinner, with them. All these things, these domestic, familiar things that once seemed so unattainable, now within arm’s reach.

But still so far away.

Your shoulders relax a fraction, dipping lower, the strain on your injury zinging through your muscles as you roll them, and you shove the little bag into the backpack, above the clothes you pulled from your apartment.

Deep breath.

Johnny’s the first you see after locking the front door. He’s in the kitchen, half leaning on his crutch, fishing something out of a pot, a noodle of some kind, and he freezes, eyes heavy with relief, when you come around the corner.

“Bunny.” His good arm reaches, fingers brushing together, cold against warm. He coos. “Ye’re freezin’.”

“It’s cold.” You agree, unzipping the front of your jacket. He slides cautious and slow touch around your waist beneath it, and you go with him, face burrowing into his chest, just below his collarbone. Your nose is nearly smashed, but you can still breath him in, feel him, be in this moment with him.

His hold tightens. “What is it?”

“Sorry it took me so long.”

“That’s alright, was jus’ worried is all. Text us back next time.” You nod, but stay silent, still taking gulps of air, nosing against the collar of his shirt to find his skin. “Pretty girl,” his hand strokes over the back of your head, warm breath on your cheek. “Ye alright?” You breathe through the threat of tears, though they sting and threaten to sink you.

“Ye-yeah.” You choke, and he tries to pull back, grip steady on your upper arm, but you follow him, still trying to crawl inside and hide, wrap yourself up in him and disappear.

“Hey now,” he clucks his tongue, trying to re-focus you, trying to get your attention, nimble fingers cradling your jaw, “what is it?”

There are no words to explain it, these feelings. The fear. The dread. The bile rioting in your stomach, the anxiety churning like a turbulent sea. It’s like no matter what you do, it all comes back, no matter how deep you bury it or how much you try to change the tide.

It’s easier to lie.

“I’m tired.” You whisper, and he rubs your back.

“Did ye eat?” No.

“Yes. I got something at the hospital.”

“Paperwork all in order so ye can hang out wit’ us until ye’re better?” His smile is infectious, a mirror blooming across your own face, and he dots your nose with his lips. “There’s our girl.” Your toes curl. He tugs the backpack into his grip, and you let him, let him push you up into the counter, drop your bag to the floor, slip his tongue between his teeth. You let it all go to your head, let yourself get lost in him, twist your fingers in his hair, nipples pebbling stiff as his mouth finds the sensitive skin of your neck.

He takes it all away. Every time.

“Johnny.”

“I’ve got ye.” He finds an opening, a soft spot between your jeans and your shirt, hands roaming upward and over, everywhere. He’s everywhere, effortlessly, and you’re along for the ride, clinging so tight like you’re afraid you’ll fall.

And then-

It stops.

He’s holding your face, blue gaze unwavering, focused. “Bun, talk to me.” Your throat throbs, words sticking like taffy, clawing their way up in a jumbled mess until the only thing intelligible is what spills out.

“Is this real?” You’re a child. Small and scared, desperate for some sort of reassurance, some semblance of security.

“Is what real?” His fingers close over yours, lifting them to his lips. “This? Us?”

“Everything. All of it… I- I-“

“It’s real. It’s been real since ye held my hand the first time. Or at least, it’s been real for me… since then. Thought ye were an angel. An answer to a prayer.” He cracks a smile, thumb rubbing across the slope of your cheek. “An’ I’m not the praying type.”

“There’s… you don’t know me, Johnny. There’s so much… you don’t know.” Your chest heaves, anxiety stuttering inside your lungs, air turning thin in your mouth.

“I know, shhh. I know.” You press your face back into his chest, words slowing to a stop, a trickle. “Ye remind me of him, ye know. A lot prettier though.”

“Who?”

“Si.” He kisses your temple, your forehead, peeling away to peer at your face. “Guarded… but scared under it all. Ye dinnae even know how life can be, too busy runnin’ away.”

“Johnny-“

“Ye’ve got secrets, I know. But it’s the same thing I used to tell him. Eventually you’ve got to let go, let me in. Let us in, Bun. We’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not afraid. Let us prove it.” Your lower lip trembles, eyes burning with the brunt of tears. “Shhh, dinnae cry. Ye’re alright, everything’s going to be okay. I swear it.” You do nothing, nothing except stand there, half folded into him, breath and touch agonizingly slow, steady in his hold.

The two of you stay there, in the silence, until the agonized sear of distress starts to fade, and you begin to balance, ship righting itself after a long night in rocky seas.

Penny’s bedroom door is open.

The soft glow of a nightlight floats into the hall, and you peer past, finding Simon with his arms full, reclined in the rocking chair, a nearly asleep Penny gap mouthed in his arms. You wave.

“Hi,” he whispers, “get everything you needed?”

“Yeah, all set.” You nod to the baby. “She’s knocked.”

“Bath time was rough.” He traces her cheek, twirling a finger in her hair. A soft, faultless picture, his features delicately framed by shadow, thick arms the perfect place for a baby, an easy cradle.

It’s an intimate moment, and inside it, you feel out of place.

“I’ll see you downstairs?” You shift away, motioning, and he hums.

“In a few.”

Everything is slow with them in the evenings, you’ve realized.

They move leisurely, dancing around one another, Simon constantly watching and waiting, for both you and Johnny, anticipating. It’s a natural role, one that seems more permanent over necessary considering the circumstances, Johnny falling into an unhurried pace, languishing on the couch after dinner and dishes are done, fingers mindlessly stroking into the soft spot beneath your ear. Simon leans over, kissing Johnny and then settling at your side, an arm stretching around your back. “Should we watch something?” Johnny brightens.

“A movie?”

“If you’d like. Bun, any suggestions?” You blink. It’s a surprise, one that’s never occurred to you, the ability to simply choose a movie.

“Umm… no?”

“What’s yer favorite?”

“I don’t know. Whatever is fine. What do you guys like?”

“We know what we like. We want to know what you like.” What do you like? Comedies, you suppose. Something light and funny, something to distract the never-ending stream of thoughts cycling through your head.

“Uh, have you guys ever seen Forgetting Sarah Marshall?” Johnny chuckles.

“It’s been a while.” He flicks through the icons on the screen, thumbing over to where he starts to type it in. What if they don’t like it? What if they’re humoring you? What if you picked wrong? “Or, if you don’t like that, we can do something else. Anything. I’m not picky. It doesn’t have to be-“

“Hey,” Simon murmurs, warm palm resting on your knee, “that’s perfect. We both like that one.”

“Dracula musical.” Johnny smiles, finding it easily and clicking play. Your breath catches at the ease of it all, of picking a movie and that being that, no anxiety about a reaction or something triggering popping up on screen.

You can just… enjoy it.

The light in their bathroom is a little too bright.

Your toes stretch across the tile, nerves thrashing in the pit of your stomach as you stare in the mirror.

You don’t know who it is looking back at you.

You don’t recognize the girl getting ready for bed, brushing her teeth, wearing a pair of pajama pants and Simon’s shirt.

There’s a disconnect, some semblance of wires crossing, some phantom of someone else, living in your skin.

Because it can’t be you, getting ready to crawl into bed between them. It can’t be you, who fell asleep with her head on Simon’s stomach during the movie, can’t be you who stole a kiss from Johnny as Simon propped his leg up on the stack of pillows.

You’re playing house. Playing a game.

It won’t last.

It can’t.

You wrap a finger up in the hem of Simon’s shirt, frayed and torn edges pulling apart below the seam. It’s an old one, something he tugged out of a drawer and tossed on the bed, faded graphic turned from white to grey against a rusted black backdrop. It’s soft, and worn, and comfortable, an article of clothing well loved, and you wonder if Johnny’s worn it too. If it’s been passed around, washed, and dried a hundred times.

“Everything alright?” Simon leans into the bathroom, Johnny in view just past his shoulder. He’s not wearing a shirt, just soft, flannel pants, and you stare at the scars dotting his torso before dragging your gaze away.

“Yeah, sorry… I got distracted.” You turn the tap, rinsing your toothbrush before placing it by itself on the edge of the sink, out of place next to the cup holding theirs, and Penny’s.

You blink slow, allowing your eyes to close for a fraction of second.

“Ready for bed?” Johnny beams at you, lush and sleepy, hand outstretched, reaching.

You take a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Simon’s bedside lamp is still on, barely illuminating the dark. It’s quiet, and warm, and you bask in the space between their bodies, fingers playing idly with the hem of your shirt.

When Johnny’s fingers graze the skin under the fabric, your chest tightens. He strokes back and forth, over your navel, blazing heat from his palm tingling into your skin. You’re being torn in two, swallowed by the ocean, tugged in different directions.

You struggle to regulate your breathing, small draws coming in quicker, and Simon covers Johnny’s hand with his own, stopping the movement.

“Will you show us?” He murmurs.

“Sh-show you?”

“The scars.” Oh.

Will you?

Even though Simon’s already seen them, this feels different. This feels like a choice. Like you’re peeling something back, baring yourself.

You close your eyes and pull the bottom of your shirt to the top of your ribcage, cool air ghosting over your exposed skin. Johnny makes a sound, a twisted whisper of something pained, and you shiver.

A thumb slides over the raised skin on the left side of your belly. “These are from cigarettes?”

“Yes.” You almost want to look, want to see, but can’t bring yourself to do it, to witness their disgust, their shock. You’re hollow. Drifting. Falling away from them. Someone shifts, the bed moves, jostles slightly, but you block it out. Every muscle in your body is taut, jaw locked, and fists clenched.

This morning was intimate but this… this is something else. Something more.

“Can ye feel them, still? Do they hurt?” Two hands roam, rubbing gently, skimming.

“No but… they’re hideous.”

“No.” Simon croaks, voice thick. “There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t perfect.” Your heart cracks, and the light touch of fingertips disappears, replaced with a swath of breath and then-

Lips.

He’s kissing them.

It stops your heart, dries your mouth. Robs you of your breath, your head spinning into an enormous vortex of disbelief. Simon’s mouth travels, dotting your skin between each ugly, raised bump, carefully pressing a kiss to each one, gradually. He takes his time, and with your eyes closed, you can feel his body hovering above you, holding steady just over your frame. Johnny’s forehead rests against yours, and he cups your face, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek, sweet and slow.

“Will ye tell us… about how you got them? Who gave them to ye?” Simon cradles your hips, firm pressure folding into your skin, the curve there, and he squeezes, prompting you, expecting. You don’t know how he does it, how he’s so easily able to guide you, and Johnny. It’s seamless.

“I…” You don’t know what to say, if you were to say anything at all. How to answer. How to begin to explain. How to confirm what you know they already suspect, how to start this story. This nightmare.

Are you really doing this? Could you really do this?

There’s a sliver of sun, begging. Pleading. It rails against the cracks in your heart, desperate.

So, you spit out the only thing you know for sure.

“He liked to hurt me.”

“Who?” Simon’s question is immediate, and your ribs expand with a long breath.

“My… ex.” Stop talking. Stop this, stop it, stop- “He’s a monster.”

“The healed breaks on your x-rays…” He trails off, and you reach blindly, searching for an anchor. Johnny gives it to you, clutching your hand in his, thumb soothing over your knuckles.

“Yes.”

“And more.” Simon whispers, and Johnny draws a sharp breath. You nod.

“And more.”

“Your neck, and shoulder?” There’s a long silence, as you sit atop the wall. As you wait and try to decide if you want to jump off or continue to sit here… trapped at the top, teetering on the edge while they wait below.

You’re in their life now. You said you’d try. They should know.

You trust them.

Don’t you?

“He found me.” You confess, cracked and bleeding and hung out to dry. Three words barely scratching the surface of the truth, saying almost nothing at all and still so much. You stumble, and panic, fear bubbling up to the surface. “I’m sorry, I told you before- I said-“

“And we told ye; nothing is going to get ye while ye’re with us. Ye’re safe, bunny.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about!” you blurt, a near snap, and Johnny freezes. “It’s you guys, and Penny, and your friends, you- you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do, o-or where I go-” You’re rambling, nearly hyperventilating, and slipping away, succumbing to the rolling black clouds overtaking your mouth and mind, stuttering and falling, drowning in an endless darkness.

They don’t know. They don’t understand. They can’t.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re nothing.

You’re a child again. A lost girl. Alone and scared. Trapped in the dark.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” You shake your head, and Simon catches it between his palms, holding you still. You can fight and flail and run, but he’s still there. Strong and safe and beautiful in every way, a foundation of love, of trust. “It’s just us, we’re here. With you. Look.” Johnny tightens his hold, and your bones rattle inside your skin, aching and splintering, shredding you from the inside out.

“I can’t.” You hiss, trying to curl away. You can’t face them, or this. The reality. The truth.

It’s easier to run. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You should have already been gone.

But they won’t let you go. Not now. Not when they have you so close to the light. So close to the sun.

And maybe it’s time to accept it.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” Johnny murmurs. “Ye can do it.” The pull of his voice drags you closer, comforts you, and you long for him, long to see his blue eyes, overgrown mohawk and gorgeous smile. You long to relax into him, to hear the thump of his heart, steady and strong. He’s a lighthouse in the pitch-black night, a guiding light. It’s enough to lessen pressure building in the back of your skull, and you slowly blink, both of their concerned faces coming into view.

The three of you linger silence, holding each other, decompressing from your confession, your fear that feels too much sometimes. It all fades, night turning long, and eventually you yawn, blinking away the sleepy stars in your eyes.

“There’s our bunny.” Simon kisses your cheek. “My good girl.” My good girl. Turning it over in your mind makes you squirm, allowing it ricochet back and forth with his accent, and you wish you could latch onto it, memorize it, hear it every day. Johnny gives you a bemused smile.

“Ye liked that?” He raises an eyebrow at Simon, and then presses his lips to your ear, whispering. “Ye want to be a good girl for daddy, little bunny?” Daddy. You choke. You anticipate disgust, revulsion, but none of it comes.

Only… intrigue. Warmth.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Simon interrupts gently. “Thank you, sweetheart. For trusting us. I know it’s hard.” You turn into Johnny, and Simon rolls to flick out the light, pulling up tight behind you, sliding an arm under the pillows. You burrow deeper into the blankets, snuggling between them to find the warmest spots, and sigh.

“You both… make it easier. You make it easy.”

The world from yesterday is forgotten the next day when Penny wakes up with a fever.

The house is thrown into confined, regulated chaos, but chaos all the same. She wails almost the entirety of the morning, miserable, and you ache for both her, and her dads, who are unmoored and anxious. You don’t even balk when Simon asks you to hold her, explaining he has to call her pediatrician.

“Hey, you’re okay.” You coo, rubbing her back. She’s warm to the touch, but not scorching, and it gives you some comfort, even with what little you know about peds. You rock her, pacing, as Johnny watches uneasily from the couch, typing unending questions into a web search about babies and fevers. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel good.”

“It’s 38.1… that’s fine, right? As long as it’s under 39?”

“I think so.” You try to reassure him. “I’m not a little human nurse though, so I can’t be sure. But it hasn’t been that long, Johnny. We don’t need to worry until at least twenty-four hours.” He nods, lips quirking into a small smile. “What?”

“Ye said we.”

“Well… yeah…” you trail off, and he shakes his head.

“Jus’ like the sound of it, is all. Like how ye look, holdin’ our baby.” You give him a look, half exasperated, half doe eyed, as always, because you can’t help but feel a little lovestruck or dazed whenever you glance his way, always taken by him, no matter the moment.

Simon steps back inside from the patio, swooping to rub his nose in Johnny’s hair and squeeze his shoulder affectionately. “The pediatrician says if she gets worse, or doesn’t improve by tomorrow, to bring her in.”

“Good.” You bounce her, propping her up on your shoulder. “That’s good.” She gurgles, croaking through her miserable fever. “Poor baby girl, I’m sorry.” You pat her again, trying to help settle her-

She coughs, and something warm runs down your back.

“Shite.” Johnny curses, Simon immediately trying to pull her from your arms, but you shake your head.

“There’s no sense in her throwing up on you too.” You explain.

“I’ll go grab a towel, and some clothes. Do you want to change your shirt?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You keep your hand steady on her back. You’ll both need a thorough wipe down now, maybe even a shower.

“Sorry, bun.” Johnny frowns, but you reassure him, still rocking Penny in your arms.

“It’s fine, really. I’ve been through way worse with bodily fluids, trust me.” The bottom stair creaks, in the way that it only does for Simon, his mass too much for one of the wooden slats.

When you look up, you realize he’s not moving, only standing shock still, clothes and towel and a baby blanket in one hand,

and the contents of the little black bag in the other.

You left it on the dresser. You left it out in the open, unzipped, on the dresser.

Your blood freezes. Johnny frowns, looking between his partner and you, trying to desperately draw a conclusion that doesn’t come.

Simon holds the little navy-blue book up, the one with your picture in it, but with a name they won’t recognize. A person they wouldn’t know.

A person you don’t even know, yet. A new life. A new identity.

“What’s that?” Johnny’s quizzical, intrigued.

“Bunny.” Simon breathes, and you shake your head. It’s all you can do, just shake your head back and forth until your brain is rattling around in your skull.

You can’t stop it.

They’ll never love you. They won’t accept you. They won’t understand.

“It’s- it’s j-just in case,” you stammer, panicked and tongue tied. “you… you don’t understand, I have to have it… just in case.”

“What is it?” Johnny demands, and Simon flips the front of the booklet around-

revealing the cover of a brand-new American passport.

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

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 1 day

Note

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else.

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places.

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize.

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in.

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to.

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods.

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own.

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly, and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things -

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s?

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous?

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions.

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself.

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic.

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side.

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?”

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary.

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know?

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.”

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.”

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?”

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.”

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad.

“I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper.

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew.

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?”

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face.

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?”

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert

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skzstannie · 2 days

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"They found her"

SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader

This is a part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone as there's not much reference to the original fic.

genre: hurt/comfort, angst wc: ~3,800 words cw: kidnapping, guns and gunshot wounds, hospitals, some brief cursing

Summary: Since the incident, the guys have been extremely over protective of you. You heed their warnings, but still go out unaccompanied by security on your vacation, only to have to pay the price for your poor decisions.

A/N: Hiiii, ik I've disappeared off the face of the Earth again, but I've brought gifts back with me this time. This one's a bit heavier, but it's the long awaited part 2 to "Did you know?", so I hope you guys enjoy. I hit 500 followers since the last time I posted, so this is kind of a celebratory post as well. Thanks guys!

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

The time has come around again when JYP has given you and your members some well-earned personal vacation, and you've chosen to spend that time back at home with your family and friends.

Upon hearing about your vacation, your childhood friends started blowing up your phone, asking about when you'll be in and if you wanted to hangout. Of course, you've missed them just as much and gave them all the details of you're arrival.

The day of said plans has finally arrived, and you couldn't be more excited. You and three of your closest friends have decided to go to this cute breakfast cafe for brunch, run by all your favorite stores for some shopping, and then round your evening out with some bar hopping.

"You have got to see this!" Ha-Yoon, a friend you've known since grade school, explodes from beside you in the passenger seat, fanning herself. "Look at how hot this guy is? Think he'll give me his number if I DM him?"

"Are you being for real?" Dae cringes from the backseat, leaning forward to get a closer look at your friend's new internet crush. "He's kinda ugly."

This elicits a bickering match for the remainder of the drive, with you and your remaining friend, Soon-Bok, rolling your eyes at their silly banter.

You decided that you'd pick them all up from their homes, figuring that you'd get to spend some more time with them that way. You didn't really think about the fact that perhaps more time was synonymous with too much time. Just because you hadn't seen your friends in months, doesn't mean that they didn't see each other literally every single day.

With a clear of your throat, they stop insulting each other's fantasy love interests, both squealing when they realize you've pulled into the parking lot for the cafe.

The four of you get out of the car, you pulling your keys out of your purse to lock the doors. While walking towards the doors of the cafe, you're hit with a strange feeling- like someone's watching you.

Immediately, you whip your head around in search of anyone getting a little too nosey, but you come up with nothing. You keep your guard up though, knowing you can never be too sure.

Since the stage incident a few months back, you've been feeling a little paranoid. Understandably so, especially since the mean and threatening comments never subsided. It's gotten to the point where the staff have begun to send out a few extra security guards each time you leave the JYP building. In fact, JYP gave you all this nice little vacation in hopes it'd help some of the comments die down. To your dismay, they have not.

The guys have been incredibly protective since then, and you're actually grateful for it for once. Their constant questions about your whereabouts and wanting to tag along with you everywhere you go used to annoy you, but you'd never think to complain about it now.

Just this morning, having told them about your exciting plans for the day, they sent a barrage of texts telling you to be careful. Chan practically demanded you take a security guard with you, but for the sake of your friends' comfortability, you declined. Was it stupid? Possibly, but you're only wish for this vacation is to make things seem normal again. Having constant security around is not normal.

You placated Chan by telling him that your family knows of the places you'll be, and your family and the rest of your members all have your location at all times. He was reluctant, almost threatening to fly himself to your home just to go out on your little excursion with you, but he eventually gave way, not without first lecturing you about how important your safety is- like you didn't already know that.

~ ~ ~

"And then he pushed him down the stairs! How crazy!" Dae finishes, your eyes widening at how her story ended. She had just finished telling you all about how her boyfriend got into this big fight with a guy at the bar the other day. Apparently, the random man thought it acceptable to lay his hands on Dae, and her boyfriend did not appreciate that.

"Your boyfriend is so hot," Ha-Yoon comments, her eyes looking dreamily off into the distance.

"Excuse me?" Dae questions, raising a brow at Ha-Yoon's confession.

"I mean-"

"Ok!" you interrupt, pushing your chair back from the table you've all been sat at. The brunch was nice, catching up with your friends was much needed and the food was warm and comforting, but enough is enough, and your friends are starting to get a bit squeamish. "I need to use the restroom quickly, then we can head to the mall? Does that sound ok?"

There's a chorus of yesses, and they shoo you off into the restroom, picking up their phones to distract themselves until you get back.

You make your way to the back of the cafe, noticing how the bathrooms are secluded down a small hallway in the corner of the restaurant. Your eyes glance out the emergency exit door, and you tilt your head in confusion upon seeing a large white van sat outside it. It is not parked in a parking spot; it's just parked directly outside the door.

You quickly do your business, not wanting to keep your friends waiting for too long, and head back out to the front of the cafe. Stepping outside the restroom, a hand is immediately thrown over your mouth, a piece of foul smelling cloth pressed up against your nose. You try to scream, but this only causes you to inhale more of the chemical.

You fight, attempting to throw an elbow behind you to dislodge yourself from the person's vice like grip, but this only leads to your elbow being grabbed at a painful angle. You whimper slightly as the person pries your elbow behind you, and it almost feels as if your arm could snap if you were to move another inch. You become lightheaded, and it's hard to keep your eyes open and your mind alert. Unable to fight any longer, you give in and slump down into the arms which hold you captive.

~ ~ ~

"She's been gone awhile, I'm gonna go-" Soon-Bok is cut off by an alarm inside the cafe going off. All the customers heads perk up at the noise, their attention drifting to the employees.

The waitresses look to one another in confusion before one makes their way over to where you went for the restroom a few minutes before. The cafe is silent as the waitress disappears, looking for where the alarm would be coming from.

It's silent for another minute, before there's an audible gasp. She comes back with your purse in one hand and your cracked phone in the other.

Your three friends quickly get up from their seats, rushing over to the waitress. "Where'd you find this?" Dae asks, her eyes tearing up.

"Just outside the bathroom. I was just able to catch a glimpse of a van speeding off. Do you think someone was taken?" she asks, her eyes widening at the thought.

"I think- I think our friend was kidnapped," Ya-Hoon whispers.

~ ~ ~

"This is why I said she needed a security guard with her! This would have never happened!" Chan snaps at their management in anger, rising up from his seat in the meeting room.

Upon hearing about your kidnapping, the rest of your members were immediately brought back to the JYP building. They were all livid.

"Chan, I understand you're upset, but there's really nothing we can do now but wait-"

"Wait for what? Huh? Wait for her to just magically appear here?" Minho cuts off the head of security, his face red with anger.

"Of course the police are on the case and doing everything they can to find her. As for the eight of you, you are not to leave this building until we get all of this under control. Do you hear me? We do not need more than one missing member." JYP is stern as he speaks, leaving no room for discussion. "This meeting is dismissed. We will update you all if we hear anything."

With that, everyone else clears out of the room, leaving your eight members.

"This is awful," Felix says, his head hanging in his hands.

"No shit, Felix, why not state more of the obvious," Jisung narrows his eyes at Felix.

"We can't turn on each other," Changbin butts in, deterring them from getting into it any further. "We have to stick together and just wait this out. She's strong; she'll be ok."

"But what if she's not," Hyunjin speaks up for the first time since they got back. He's been huddled up against Jeongin since they got there, his head hung low. It's obvious he's been crying with the way his cheeks are stained with tears, his eyes red from how often he's rubbed them.

"We can't think like that," Chan says, moving over to Hyunjin. He lays a comforting arm around his shoulders, and Hyunjin immediately moves to the comfort of the leader, turning his head to hide it in Chan's chest. "They saw the van leave, it couldn't have been too long before the police were there. They'll find her, and then she'll be right back here with us."

"To never be let out of our sights again," Seungmin grumbles from the couch, wearing a similar expression to that of Felix's.

"Correct," Minho agrees, leaning back in his chair.

~ ~ ~

"Seungmin, you have to sleep. Staying up for 72 hours straight is not going to make her come back any faster," Chan lays his hand on the back of the boy's neck, slightly rocking him side to side.

"Maybe not, but I'll be the first to know when they find her," he counters, his bloodhsot eyes meeting Chan's. "You're one to talk; you haven't slept either."

Chan just sighs in response, plopping down on the couch next to him. It's quiet between the two of them, but neither are complaining about it. The peace is nice after what they've been through the past few days.

"Hyunjin hasn't stopped crying. Jeongin and Felix have had to take turns laying with him," Seungmin breaks the quiet, his soft voice travelling throughout the practice room. "Han hasn't eaten since we found out."

"I know, I've been trying to get everyone up and moving, but no one's interested."

"Chan, we're not expecting you to be the hero. We know you're in pain, too, and it's ok to act like it," it takes Chan a minute to process what Seungmin had said, but as his brain takes time, he realizes that it's been so long since he's cried, so long since he's truly let his emotions out.

With another moment passing, Chan's breath quickens and tears spring into his eyes. Without another thought, he turns his head into Seungmin's shoulder and cries. He cries for you, and how scared you must be right now, and he cries for the rest of his members, knowing how bad this is hurting them. He cries because he can't take away their pain or yours, not this time.

~ ~ ~

"Wake up." You feel a cold splash of water hit your face, and you're abruptly brought to consciousness. Your eyes open quickly in response to the cold, but you squint once you're hit with the blinding light coming from the ceiling light above you.

You try to talk, to say anything, but you quickly become aware of the duct tape placed snuggly over your mouth.

You gain some more proprioception, feeling the tightness of the rope around your wrists and how your ankles are tied to the legs of the chair you're currently sat on.

"Hey!" Your attention is brought to the large man standing in front of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the gun in his hand. "Eyes here. And quit squirming so much!"

You freeze at that, stilling your movements. "Now listen here," you hear another guy say from across the room. You are just noticing him for the first time, and you realize that this guy in front of you must be the brawn of the operation. "We need some money. A lot of money. So, if you want to make it out of here alive, you need to call your family and have them bring us 350 million won. No less. Think you can handle that princess?"

Tears well in your eyes at the mention of death. You can't die like this, at the hands of these awful people. But you also know you don't want to get your family involved. So, deciding this is your best bet, you sit stoically. You look straight ahead, your focus unwavering.

"The silent treatment, huh?" You can see out of your periphery the man at the desk across the room stand from his chair. He makes his way towards you, but you pay him no mind, keeping your blank stare on the wall in front of you.

"If the threat's not enough to get you to talk, maybe this will be." He's quick to take the gun from the other man's hand, and before you can even flinch he's pointed it at your lower leg and let off a shot.

You choke on your own spit when the pain registers. You close your eyes and strain your body not to react, but there's only so much you can do. The tears you were successfully keeping at bay before now slide freely down your cheeks. Your hands are in tight fists behind your back, and you feel you may pass out from the white-hot pain radiating from your calf.

Your consciousness teeters, and all words being spoken by the men sound gibberish in your state. Just as you feel you may fall completely unconscious, you're startled by a loud bang from behind you. Your eyes lazily drift to the men, and you see their gazes widen before they quickly raise their hands in surrender. You make eye contact with the one that shot you, and that's the last thing you see before your eyes shut, your body and mind going completely numb.

~ ~ ~

The practice room door is flung open, bringing Chan out of his sleepy state. "What the hell? Be a little quieter would you," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at Jisung who stands in the doorway. For the first time since the news, Chan is attempting to get some sleep. It wasn't exactly on his own accord, though. After the constant hounding from the rest of the members, and even a threat from Felix that he'd sneak melatonin into his water, he decided it would probably be best for him to try and get some shut eye; he'll be of no use to anyone if he's delirious with sleep.

"They found her."

At this, all of Chan's previous drowsiness vanishes. He sits up from the couch faster than he ever has before, his joints cracking with such a sudden movement. "What?" he asks for clarification, fearing it might be too good to be true.

"They've found her. She's on the way to the hospital right now," Jisung's contagious smile makes more sense now, Chan wearing a similar expression.

"Where are the rest of the boys?" Chan stands from the couch in a rush, quickly slipping his shoes on.

"They're in the meeting room. They just bought our flight there, we're leaving now."

~ ~ ~

"Thank you," you tell the nurse, taking the small cup of water from her hands. It's been a few hours since you woke up from your unconscious state. Upon arriving at the hospital, they immediately took you into surgery to remove the bullet from your leg. Thankfully, it missed all the important stuff, leaving your bones completely in tact. You're left with some muscle damage, but the doctor assured you with some physical therapy you'd be back to normal again.

You're now laying in bed recovering. The wound has been stapled and is wrapped tightly. You have your leg resting on a couple pillows, hopefully to help prevent the swelling. Beside you on the couch is your family, having come in immediately upon hearing the news. Some silly K-Drama is playing on the T.V, but it's enough to keep your mind occupied for now, so you're thankful for it.

Nobody confirmed it for you, but you were sure your members were well on their way. Your family told you that you had been kidnapped for a few days. You told them you only remember being awake for a few minutes, but apparently they kept knocking you out again and again.

After talking with the police, you find that they were using you for ransom, and they kept knocking you out because they didn't have everything squared away yet; whatever that means, you're not quite sure.

As if on cue, the door to your room swings open, revealing Chan and Minho. They're out of breath and sweaty, looking as if they had just run a marathon.

You're given no time for formal greetings as they both launch themselves at you, throwing their arms haphazardly around you until you feel like you're squished beneath them. Your mom makes a protesting sound, but you wave her off with a gesture of your hand. They missed you, and you missed them. They weren't hurting you or anyone else by hugging you.

"You're never leaving our sights again," Chan says, his cheek pressed against the top of your head.

"Never ever," Minho agrees, his torso laid lightly across your lap.

"I'm okay-" you start, only to be cut off by an angry looking Chan. His face pops into view at your words, eyebrows furrowed.

"You are indeed not okay! You were kidnapped, unconscious for hours on end, and then shot! How are you possibly trying to convince us that you're ok?" Minho stands up at his outburst, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm alive, and that's okay enough for me."

With your response bludgeoned into their minds, they both collapse on top of you in another hug.

You bask in their warmth a bit longer, only being interrupted with the door creaking open. Felix and Hyunjin stand there, teary and red-eyed.

"Your time's up," Hyunjin sniffles, moving out of the way of the door so the two can exit.

"We'll be back," Chan leans down to kiss your forehead while Minho grabs your hand, giving it an assuring squeeze.

They leave, and Felix and Hyunjin scurry in after them. They crowd around your bedframe, hesitant to even lay a hand on you.

"Hey," you whisper, reaching over to grab both of their hands, "I'm okay."

Hyunjin breaks down in sobs, and it only takes Felix a minute before he's right there with him. You let go of their hands and open your arms to welcome them in for a hug. Both of them hesitate again, but eventually bend down to give you the gentlest hug you've ever received.

"Does it hurt?" Felix mumbles, his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulders.

"They've got me on some serious meds, so no. It probably will when I come off of them, though. I haven't tried to walk-"

"And you wont either. Not for a long while," your mom cuts in from the couch.

"Thanks for your input, Mom."

"No problem," her gaze shifts to the boys, "She's been moody since she came out of surgery. They say it's because of the meds." They both let out a huffy laugh at that, and while you're absolutely dying to argue, you're just thankful to see Hyunjin and Felix smile.

There's another knock at the door, and all your heads snap to Changbin and Jisung. "Our turn," Jisung says, gesturing for Felix and Hyunjin to get out.

"We'll see you soon," Felix says before making his way to the door.

"Love you," Hyunjin says, hugging you for a second longer.

"Love you, too," you tell him, and you watch as he gets up and walks toward the door.

Once they're gone, Jisung and Changbin come into the room.

"Chan is never letting you out of his sight again; you know that, right?" Changbin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.

"Uh, not just Chan, all of us," Jisung argues. "You know how when girls go out they all have to, like, go to the bathroom together? That's about to be us bestie."

"Um, ew," you grimace just thinking about all your privacy being stripped from you.

"We'll wait outside, of course," Changbin says, trying to make you feel better.

"Oh, how thoughtful," you sass back, giving them a sarcastic smile.

"But for real though, are you ok?" The atmosphere turns serious at Jisung's inquisition. "We were all worried sick about you."

"I guess I could be better, but I'm gonna be just fine. Doc said some physical therapy and I'll be good as new."

"Did you know they didn't even realize you were an idol at first?" Changbin says, piquing your interest. "They said they thought they just picked up some random person at the cafe. Apparently that's why they kept you knocked out for so long; it made things more complicated."

"I did not know that, actually. The police only gave me a quick run down, said they'd be back later for some more questioning and to give us some more information."

Another knock is heard at the door, and you look to see Seungmin and I.N standing there, the last of your boys. "Our turn now, move along," Seungmin says, tapping his foot impatiently.

"That's our cue, we'll see you later." They both lean down to give you a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the room.

Seungmin and I.N come in, seeming even more urgent than Chan and Minho did earlier.

They both come crashing down on top of you, all concern for the wires attached to you out the window.

Wanting to tease them, you say, "What if I was, like, seriously hurt? And now you two just came running in here like a pack of wild animals?"

"Give me a break, everybody said you were fine and that you were accepting hugs," Seungmin throws back, giving you a firm poke in the side.

You bark out a laugh at that, a smile gracing your features. "They also said that you hadn't smiled yet. So there," Seungmin nuzzles his head back into your shoulder, and you feel him breath a sigh against your neck.

"We missed you," I.N says from the other side where he's latched onto your arm.

"I missed you guys more."

"Not possible, I'd never seen any of the guys so worked up before. Chan didn't sleep the whole time you were gone, and as soon as we convinced him to, they found you," Seungmin says.

"Well, I'm here now," you comfort them, rubbing a hand on each of their backs.

"And we're never letting you go again."

~ ~ ~

Part 1

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days

Text

Best Prom Ever 👗💞🪩

Chrissy asks Eddie to prom purely to piss off Jason, you're devastated but Eddie is so happy so you fake a smile and hide how you feel.

So much for the magical prom night you wished for, but not all hope is lost.

This is a fluffy, angsty fic but this is an 18+blog so mdni,

💌🎀

There's this crushing weight on your heart when Chrissy asks Eddie to the prom. It must feel like a dream for Eddie. So why does it feel like your heart is breaking into a million pieces?

It's meant to be just a typical boring Monday but now your whole world feels like it's been shaken.

Of course he says yes. Looks at you for a second before hand and you give him an encouraging smile, hide the way you feel like you can't breathe.

Chrissy was a sweetheart. She would be good for Eddie. You resolve to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest and plant a fake, happy smile on your face.

You knew the two of them had a budding friendship, but you never expected this. Eddie hated prom and everything it stood for and yet he was agreeing to go with Chrissy.

If you asked would he have gone with you? No, of course not. You slip away from their conversation, your ears are ringing and the deep ache in your chest is only getting worse.

You hurry to the bathroom and into a cubicle, lock the door and let out the tears you were struggling to keep at bay.

There was a small part of you that hoped Eddie would ask you to the prom. You could go together and make each other laugh, dance like idiots and be in your own little world.

The bubble was quickly burst seeing Chrissy ask Eddie. Of course he wouldn't say no. This was Chrissy you were talking about. She was the cheer captain and Hawkin High's princess.

Shakily you get up and head out to dry your tears, try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest and put on a happy smile. For Eddie.

He has a smile on his face for the rest of the day and at lunch he's telling the rest of Hellfire Club what happened.

"I mean, Chrissy told me she asked me to prom to get back at Jason for being a douchebag but I can be a little bit excited right? This is Chrissy Cunningham, we're talking about" Eddie babbles on to you while you're eating lunch.

He's been talking about prom for the last ten minutes.

Jeff raises his eyebrows at Eddie. "Dude, what about the whole "Prom is just a bunch of bullshit, you'd never see me step one foot in conformist shit like that" Eddie pauses as he steals one of your fries then answers Jeff's question.

"Dude I still feel that way, however this is a chance to piss off Carver and I never want to miss an opportunity like that" he explains and you listen half heartedly.

This is why he was going? A revenge fantasy for him? The thought depresses you and you make a vow to yourself that you will enjoy prom night in a different way. Maybe you could stay at home, watch a bunch of horror movies or sappy, wholesome movies and binge on snacks.

That made you feel a little bit better. But there was still a small part of you that dreaded Friday night.

💌🎀

Eddie shows up at your house half an hour before prom. Well, he climbs up through your window like he always does and nearly ruins his outfit.

He looks gorgeous, he's paired his leather jacket with a black dress shirt and black jeans. He frowns as his eyes trail over you.

"Why aren't you dressed yet? Proms starting in half an hour"

"Oh, I'm not going to the dance" you shrug and Eddie gapes at you. His big brown eyes are wide and searching as you flop back down in your bed, already cosy in your comfiest nightwear and ready to binge watch your favourite movies.

"But..." You turn to him and fake a smile once again, fuck, you were getting pretty good at this.

"Go and have fun Eddie"

"It won't be the same without you princess" you feel a tug at your heart but shake your head. No. You were not giving yourself false hope that deep down Eddie had feelings for you.

"Don't be silly, you'll be with Chrissy, you'll have a great time" you assure him and he gives you a faint smile.

"But my best girl won't be there" fuck. Why did he have to say such sweet things, he's still lingering so you give him a gentle nudge to the door. He looks back at you one more time and then he's gone.

Your night of movies and binging in ice cream is interrupted by Steve. He comes into your room and is at your closet, pulling out the dress you bought for prom.

When you were secretly hoping maybe Eddie would ask you.

"Steve, what the hell are you doing?" He turns around with one hand on his hip and gives you that "Mom" stare he usually reserves for the kids.

"You're not holing up in your room feeling sorry for yourself and missing prom. I missed prom because I felt shitty about Nance and you were there for me. Now I'm returning the favor. Get dressed honey"

You're tempted but the thought of seeing Eddie with Chrissy hurts your heart all over again.

"I don't know if I can watch Eddie with Chrissy, having the time of their lives. I mean, of course I want him to have fun but do I have to see it?" Steve settles beside you and puts his arm around you.

"I'm going with you. Robin and Vickie too. Fuck Eddie Munson, you will go and have the time of your life with us, now get dressed" he orders.

"So bossy", you mutter but kiss his cheek before you take the dress into your bathroom and start getting ready .

💞💌🎀

Prom is boring. He kinda expected it but it's even worse now he's here. The music is shitty and while Chrissy is really a sweetheart, all he can think about is you.

Would prom be more fun if you were here? Absolutely yes. Jason is glaring daggers at him and that is barely giving him any satisfaction.

Chrissy is looking at him all sympathetic and that doesn't help his mood. "Is yn not coming?" She looks around for you and Eddie shakes his head glum.

"No, she's having a movie night instead" Chrissy bites her lip, looking shocked.

"It's prom. She can't miss prom" he shrugs the weight of your absence weighing heavy on him, he's so tempted to just ditch this shit and go and be with you.

Chrissy softens when she looks at him, "You're really not having a good time huh? I'm sorry, I thought at the time this would be a good idea, but you're missing your girl and well... I miss Jason" she murmurs softly and Eddie while he doesn't get how anyone could miss Carver, he does sympathise with her.

"I think I've ruined everything" he replies and the small bubble of panic inside of him grows bigger and bigger when he thinks about you on your own.

"Oh Eddie, I think you need to go and see her. You haven't ruined anything, she just doesn't know how you feel. Maybe because you realised at the last minute" Chrissy scolds him.

Doesn't realise how you feel... He goes over Chrissy's words several times before realising she's right.

He's head over heels. For you.

"Shit" Eddie yelps and ignores the way some of his classmates look their way. Chrissy still looks disappointed in him and that doesn't help either.

"Wait, why are you pissed at me?" He asks Chrissy confused, she looks at him like he's grown two heads and sighs.

"Eddie, you've left your best friend all alone while she's hurting and trying to put on a brave face because she doesn't realise that you like her back. She's been so nice to me so I'm pissed for her that it took you so long to get your head out of your ass"

Eddie winces and nods. Yup, he deserved that. Then his heart skips a beat as he repeats her words.

"You really think she feels the same?" Chrissy's glare softens and she nods. Oh fuck, yeah he had messed up.

"Oh wow" Chrissy gasps and he turns around to where she's staring at and there you are in a beautiful dress, looking ethereal and like an angel as you enter the room.

You were here after all. His heart is going a mile a minute but sinks as he sees you with Steve. Then it lightens when Robin and Vickie arrive at the same time.

Chrissy is looking at him expectantly and he swallows as he looks at you with Steve. He messed up. He should be the one making you smile like that.

"I think I'm too late. She's with Steve" he mutters and Chrissy shakes her head looking exasperated.

"Most likely as friends. Eddie I've never seen you be shy in your life so will you go and get the girl and stop being a wimp" he gapes at Chrissy's words then nods.

Yeah, he was Eddie the Brave. He could do this.

💞💞

Eddie walks over to you, he looks nervous which is rare for him. He's also staring at you in a way that makes you feel butterflies. Why wasn't he with Chrissy.

"You came" he sounds so relieved and this surprises you but he was your friend, of course he would want to see you at prom. It didn't mean anything else.

"Wait, why aren't you with Chrissy?" You ask him curiously and notice she's dancing with Jason.

"Yeah, it was a big mistake coming with her, huge. Should have taken my best girl instead of getting sucked into some dumb revenge scheme" wait...what?

"Eddie. This is Chrissy we are talking about, she's queen B and she's so sweet and kind and...' he cuts you off, his eyes softening as he gazes at you.

"She's not you" three words but there is so much meaning behind them. Oh. Well shit. Maybe there was hope after all.

"I was coming to see you. Prom isn't prom without my girl. I should have asked you because...because you're everything to me and I'm so in love with you"

Slow music begins to play, your classmates are chatting loudly, giggling but you can only focus on Eddie. "You do?" he nods and holds out his hand which you take.

"I love you too" you blurt out and he grins all dimples and happiness. Pulls you closer to him and the two of you sway to the music.

Eddie dances with you, has your hand in his and holds it over his heart. He leans down and kisses you. The whole world melts away in that moment and it's just the two of you, passionately kissing and lost in each other.

"Best prom ever" you whisper to him and lay your head on his chest. His fingers caress your hair and sway to the music with the guy you love.

🎀❤️

Take my breath away

My love, take my breath away

Take my breath away - Berlin

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x best friend reader #stranger things eddie munson

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helvegen-s · 1 day

Text

Rage, rage | one

Prologue | one | two |

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: PTSD, description of injuries, bad language, the King of hybern (jumpscare), if there is anything more, please let me know.

A/N: so here it is, the first part. I really hope you enjoy it and that you get to love Nimue just as much as I do. Any kind of support is greatly appreciated! 🥰

Standing in the middle of that enormous training ground, Nimue counted the scars on her hands one by one: first her left hand, tracing each one with her right thumb; then her right hand, tracing each one with her left thumb. It had become a ritual, something that anchored her back to the physical world, slowly pulling her away from her daydreams.

Once again, she felt the weight of her body on her own bones, on her own muscles. A couple of deep breaths, and with the short sword in her hand, she began the series of exercises again. The same series of exercises as yesterday, the day before, and for the last twenty years.

Twenty years in which Nimue had grown accustomed to her new life. New, because she knew she had always been there, inside the Cauldron, and against her will those hands had torn her away from her place, her home. She had ended up in Hybern, locked in a castle and with a princess title she didn't know where it came from, as she shared no genetic bond with the man who called himself her father, the King of Hybern.

The King of Hybern, who with the Cauldron in his hands and desperate to conceive a powerful heir, had submerged his poor and naive concubine in the poisonous water of the Cauldron. The woman, pregnant with the king's offspring and terrified of disobeying the cruel king's orders, obeyed.

Thus, the liquid of the Cauldron separated skin from muscle, muscle from tendon, tendon from bone, and the poor woman who screamed dissolved like salt in water. Before the eyes of the entire court, the King had burned one of his concubines alive, and in return, a young girl had emerged from the Cauldron. Nimue, The Radiant, the daughter of the king, created by the Cauldron.

Nimue knew all this because in the depths of her bones, and only when she let her guard down, she felt the despair of her mother when she was submerged. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel her own muscles dissolving, melting, the bones crunching and bursting, the muffled screams, the life of the poor woman extinguishing.

That only filled her with rage. A rage that boiled inside her, in every fiber of her being. Sometimes she let it grow, let it spread through every drop of her blood, like poison disguised in wine: she shaped it to her liking, gave it the form she wanted. She shaped her rage into swords, laying waste to entire legions with her rage, burning entire forests with her rage...

One could only imagine that in the face of such destruction, her "father" would be angry. No one wanted a daughter who killed hundreds of soldiers every time she trained. However, the reaction was completely opposite: a smile, some congratulations, a pat on the back, a kiss on the forehead, a small hug...

Small displays of affection that Nimue drank as if she were dying of thirst. After all, he was her "father".

Children are meant to make their parents proud. Or that's what she told herself every night before falling asleep.

She stopped abruptly before finishing her last set of exercises and looked up.

Above her, in the corridor surrounding that enclosed training ground, courtiers of her father, guards, servants, people who stopped to admire her if they had the time, kept passing by. Sometimes they made comments about the natural grace with which her movements seemed to defy gravity itself. Every gesture of hers was fluid and harmonious, as if she were in perfect harmony with the universe around her. It was so, because after all, the world around her had come from the Cauldron. And she was the Cauldron.

Sometimes, however, they made comments about the monster the King had created. An aberration.

With a flick of her wrist, her weapon disappeared into the air, she spun around, and left that training ground. She walked through the halls of the Palace, navigating intersections and crossing doors until she reached the very center of her home. The great stone cavern where the throne was situated. Even before entering, she could hear the voice of the King, and without entering the room, she listened.

"My patience is running out, filthy rats. If you don't know how to do your job, I'll have you thrown to the nagas, and let them do whatever they please with you, you pack of useless scoundrels."

Nimue entered the cavern, her gaze forward and her chin high, those airs of superiority she knew belonged to her. She walked among those present, who made way for her, feeling the hairs on their necks stand at attention in the presence of the princess. With a determined step, she approached her father, who only raised and lowered his eyebrows in response.

"What's the problem, father?" Oh, that mask of innocent girl that many swallowed. She might even dare say that sometimes, the King himself took her for naive, for innocent. When she was anything but, far from it.

She carefully observed the situation: before her father, and kneeling before the steps of the throne, were four of the six spies she knew her father had designated in Prythian, specifically in the Night Court. Among them, two bodies completely mutilated, almost unrecognizable. However, Nimue recognized them as the other two spies that were missing. She lifted her head and let the smell of blood penetrate her nose, savoring it on her palate. That's when she noticed the slightest hint of cedar and mist. She frowned and looked at her father.

"It's nothing, my sweet child. I'm just dealing with these useless ones," the King turned sharply towards those men, who, under the scrutiny of father and daughter, only sank deeper into their shame. With their heads bowed to the ground, they trembled so much that Nimue could hear the chatter of their teeth. "Do your job and find out everything. Everything. And if you have to kill that petty High Lord, you will."

Nimue did everything to hide her smile. She knew those four useless men stood no chance against that High Lord her father spoke of. She knew, because in the Cauldron, she saw the shadow of Rhysand: a vast pit, as deep as the greatest of lakes, and as black as darkness itself, so dark that Nimue saw her own scarlet eyes reflected in it.

By the Mother, Nimue doubted if her own father, without the aid of the Cauldron, would be a match for that vast darkness that undulated within High Lord Rhysand.

The King raised his hand, and with a gesture, all those present in the throne room bowed respectfully and left the without a word.

Nimue turned, ready to leave, but the King pointed at her and shook his finger. With the same hand, he made a gesture, as if pulling on a leash.

A leash that Nimue had worn around her neck since she had been torn from the Cauldron, and whose end her father held, with an iron grip. It was invisible, but when she even thought about how happy it would make her to leave the confines of the Palace, to see the world, she felt its weight around her neck, as if the King was her executioner and the leash his axe.

"Yes, father?" Her tone, completely compliant, made a fleeting smile cross the King's face.

"You will fight for me in this war, won't you, my dear?" he asked, voice so poisonous she almost gagged. Nimue felt her blood boil, her rage consuming her. "You will fight for me and win for me. I will release you onto the battlefield and you will descend upon them like rain upon dry earth. You will sow the fields with their blood, because that's what I've made you for, my Radiant jewel."

The marks of her nails digging into her palms turned into wounds, and when her magic closed them, she clenched her fists again, reopening them.

"Yes, father. I will be your weapon."

She felt the leash loosen, and with a pleased smile on his face, her father gave her permission to leave.

When she was out of the King's sight, Nimue imagined the thousand ways she would slit that old, rotten man's throat.

Azriel let out a sigh, his own breath forming clouds in front of his face.

What was that pressure in his chest? Where was all that irrational rage coming from, burning his chest and taking his breath away?

His shadows swirled around his shoulders, buzzing and whispering to each other.

He did everything he could, searching in the depths of his being for the calm he needed at that moment.

Yes, rage, rage. We are furious.

Yes, that's it, furious.

Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the incessant fluctuations of his shadows. He seemed like a horse shaking itself to get rid of the flies that tormented it so much.

"What's troubling you?" Cassian asked. A playful smile on his face while his gaze was fixed on some point in the city spread out before them. "It seems like your shadows are giving you a hard time."

"Never," Azriel replied without hesitation. He sighed again, rubbing his chest with one hand, right where that pressure seemed like it was about to pierce his body. "I feel like hitting something, someone. But it's not my desire, it feels strange."

Cassian burst into laughter as he leaned on the balcony rail. He closed his eyes for a moment, sinking into that brief moment of peace and enjoying the sunlight, before turning to look at his lifelong brother.

"I think we should call Madja. The spirit of Amren seems to have gotten into you and we'll have to get rid of it before you start giving us all dirty looks," he said, with a serious expression all of a sudden.

Azriel looked at him, raising an eyebrow and then sighing, ignoring the usual delusions of the Illyrian.

Both let the topic pass when they heard footsteps coming from inside the house. Cassian crossed the balcony threshold first, and while Azriel enjoyed a few last seconds of calm and sunshine before going back inside, he felt a pain in the palms of his hands. Stabbing, throbbing.

How strange, it had been a long time since the old scars on his hands had caused him sudden discomfort.

He would ask Madja for some ointment.

Because that's what it was, right?

As Cassian and Morrigan's voices echoed in the dining room, Azriel continued to prolong that moment of stability as much as he could. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, about to take a step forward without looking at what lay beyond. So as long as he could, he would enjoy those rays of sunshine, that scent of home, those views of the city they were rebuilding after Hybern's attack, hearing his friends laugh, and knowing that this was his place.

He went over the plan day and night since he and his family had conceived it: arrive, enter, break the Cauldron, and get out of there before the King even realized that they had snuck in.

It was perfect. There were variables, of course, but for the hundreds of unforeseen events Azriel had imagined, hundreds of solutions had been devised. It was perfect, and he trusted the plan.

But he felt so out of sorts...

Rage, it consumes us. It burns us.

Rage, rage.

It wasn't him, it wasn't his rage. He felt his own skin, his body, filled with emotions that weren't his. Like a container of some chemical mixture about to explode.

By the Mother, maybe he had eaten something strange at yesterday's dinner. Or perhaps it was the wine afterward, or maybe the countless drinks that followed at Rita's...

Because that's what it was, right?

#azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar fic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian #rhysand #azriek x female!reader

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hoonieshoney · 1 day

Note

"he'll tell at her more to see her sob" PLEASE write a dacryphilia smut drabble on this i beg

Come here nonnie, lemme just 😗🧠

I hope this is what you were looking for 🥹

Another canon small smut drabble in the I Beg, Save Me universe! This would take place the day after the ahem altar scene. Not proofread!

🚫SMUT🚫MDNI🚫

🚫DARK CONTENT🚫NONCON/DUBCON🚫

🚫DACRYPHILIA🚫

"O-Ow..Heeseung..I'm still too sore from yesterday..it hurts..I can't"

You laid flat on Heeseung's bed, both fully nude, you spent the last half hour with his tongue in your mouth. Rubbing your hands all over each other. He tried slipping one of his thick fingers inside of your cunt but the immediate intrusion had you whining and immediately pushing him off of you, the pain still present from yesterday’s events.

He sat on his knees and slowly blinked, his bambi like eyes quickly turned dark and brooding, like a shark in water stalking its next meal.

“That’s really fucking adorable angel..” He smiles, but there was no amusement behind it.

“What is?”

“That you think you have a choice.”

Before you could open your mouth to protest he was on top of you, grabbing both of your wrists in his large hand and pinning them above your head.

“Am I scaring you, angel?” He’s still smiling watching your panicked expression, his eyes twinkle watching the tears line your waterline.

“Yes..”

“Hmm..don’t be, angel. It’ll only hurt for a little bit. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

“No! Hee-Heeseing this isn't funny! Get off of me!” You struggle against his restraint on you but he just smirks. “If you keep acting up. You’ll regret it, angel.”

You squirm again and he rolls his eyes in annoyance. Fine, have it your way angel.

“I said STOP!”

The boom of his voice made you freeze instantly. You had never seen this side of him before. His eyes were narrow and dark as he watches your scared face and sees the full glaze of tears start to form in your pretty eyes. The sight going straight to his cock.

Oh, angel. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.

Your tear brimmed eyes stare at him silently pleading him to stop. He opens your legs and positions himself at your sore entrance, and he slides in with ease. Thankfully the make out session had you just wet enough for him to slide in. His eyes widen slightly as he enters you slowly, inch by inch, feeling you clench hard around his cock. A high pitched whine leaves your parted lips at the unbearable pain you feel at him stretching your already sore hole. He sheathes himself inside you to the hilt in one go. Your legs kick and shake around him, his hand still keeping a firm grip around your wrists.

The wail that leaves your throat is loud, a few tears finally fall down your red cheeks.

A sickening smile etches on his face at watching you shake and cry under him, you were hoping the tears that you were spilling would be enough to make him realize he was hurting you but he only picked up his pace and rocked harder against you causing you to scream out louder, hearing your pained sounds only made him enjoy your pain that much more.

Using his free hand he grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, making him go even deeper inside of you. You could feel the mushroom tip of his head hitting your cervix with each forceful thrust. You hate that you can feel yourself becoming wetter with each of his harsh thrusts, the pain was still excruciating but it was becoming laced with pleasure.

His cock was hitting the right angles inside of you, it was stroking that deep spot deliciously, it was overshadowing the assault he was doing on your cervix and the bruising of your walls around him. Your hips started to instinctively move and grind against him every time he bottomed out in your sore pussy.

This shouldn’t feel so good.

“You feel so good, angel.” He grunts watching you become a sobbing incoherent mess underneath him. You were repeatedly crying out his name with hot tears running down your face, adding to the mess of sweat and red cheeks. You weren’t sure if you were crying from the pain or from the pleasure anymore.

You start to feel like you’re in a floaty head space, dark spots clouding your vision as you struggle to breathe from the pain and all of the crying, the familiar sensation of your orgasm is nearing. He can feel it too, he finally lets go of your wrists and grips your waist hard. The bruises from yesterday present, he grips the bruised flesh harshly and pulls the lower half of your body harder against him, meeting each of his thrusts, he’s using you like his own personal fleshlight.

There's no oxygen left in your body for you to make a sound when your orgasm finally hits you like a freight train, your entire body convulses at the overwhelming sensation. You can only throw your head back with your mouth open and drooling.That sent him over the edge.The sight of the sweat, tears, and drool coating your face and neck had his eyes rolling to the back of his head. With a loud grunt he threw his head back as his hips stuttered against you and let his hot cum fill you to the brim.

He pants heavily as he comes down from his high, watching your fucked out body under him. A sinister grin stretches his lips looking at the hazy look in your eyes. He fucked you so hard he sent you into subspace. He grabs your cheeks with one hand squishing the wet flesh between his fingers, “didn’t that feel good, angel?”

#i beg save me #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung smut #lee heesung smut #lee heesung x reader

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nervoussagittarius · 2 days

Text

i know it’s crazy but he’s the one i want

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: part two of strike out. after months of being apart y/n realizes she wants nothing more then to be with matt, and matt realizes how much he fucked up. part one

warnings: angst to smut. oral (fem receiving), p in v, no protection, matchmakers nick and chris

they slammed the door on

my whole world

the one thing i wanted

your world felt like it was turned completely upside down the minute you locked your front door on matt.

you wanted to run after him. you wanted to forgive him for everything, but something in you was telling you to hold back, to stay strong. you weren’t even sure if you knew the matt that stood with you 10 minutes ago. after a month of no contact there’s so much that could’ve changed. you definitely had changed. one one thing that stayed the same though was that you still couldn’t go more the an hour without thinking of matthew sturniolo.

matt blew up your phone that whole night. it took everything in you not to drive over to his house. you were a mess and he didn’t need to see you like that. you were supposed to be strong. you were the one who told him to leave after all.

a few more days past before you got a couple texts and a call from chris. you hesitantly answered. you hated to admit it but you missed him and nick. you missed matt too but you weren’t ready to admit that one out loud yet. “hello?” you answered. there was a beat of silence before you heard a sigh of relief from the other line. “hey y/n it’s chris. listen, i know you haven’t wanted to talk to us, and i understand, but nick and i need your help.” he sounded so stressed that you couldn’t help but worry about the pair. he didn’t give you time to respond before he continued his thought. “i know you don’t want to be with matt anymore, but he hasn’t left his room in almost a week. nick and i completely understand why you did what you did. matt told us what happened.. but he locked himself in and we don’t know what to do.” you teared up at the thought of matt being alone. yeah he enjoyed being by himself sometimes, but never to this extent. you couldn’t help but feel guilt for the way things went down. at the end of the day you were both in the wrong, and you desperately wanted to make things right.

“please just come talk to him. come see him. we tried to wait as long as we could to call you but it’s time. we have your back but he’s still our brother, and we don’t want to see him like this. nick and i really miss you. matt misses you” you didn’t confirm or deny if you would really show up. you wanted to talk to him. as much as he hurt you he didn’t deserve to feel how you have felt for months. you knew how shitty it was. “i miss you guys too.” and with that you ended the call. you didn’t need to specify who you were referring too. chris knew that you meant all three of them, and he hoped that you would come help his brother.

no i’m not coming to my senses

i know it’s crazy but he’s

the one i want

it took you almost two hours to work up the courage to go to the triplets house. you got in and out of your car 3 different times before you convinced yourself to finally turn it on and start driving. the directions were muscle memory at this point. having spent the last two years driving the same streets at least once a day, you weren’t a stranger to the street signs and the traffic. although it was almost 1 in the morning you had no worries about if the boys were awake or not. they always were at this time.

you felt weird pulling into their driveway. a spot that was once reserved for you now felt like a curse. it felt like you’d end up with three slashed tires if you parked there so you opted for parking in the street two houses down. this way if you chickened out before you made it to the door they’d never know.

you didn’t though. you couldn’t because the minute you stepped foot onto their doorstep nick threw open the door. no words were exchanged between the two of you. he instantly pulled you into a hug. you both needed it after the month and a half you just had. “i’m so glad you’re here” all you could do is hold him tighter in response. tears filled your eyes as chris made his way down the front steps to you both. he took his turn pulling you into a hug as well. when you broke apart he ran a soothing hand up and down your arm and let you walk to the living room.

the three of you sat on the couch together and you pulled your legs up into you. single tears streamed down your face every once and a while as you waited for someone to talk. “he doesn’t know you’re here,” nick started. “we didn’t want to tell him and freak him out.” “oh so he’s not allowed to be freaked out so i have to be. got it” you regretted it as soon as you got the sentence out. “sorry. fuck i’m sorry guys. i really just- i don’t know what i’m doing here.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously.

“it’s okay y/n/n we get it. we really just think you guys should talk.” chris said patting your knee. “yeah, we don’t want to pressure you but we think it will help both of you get some closure. so you sit here. we’re going to go out for a little bit, give you some space. if you decide you want to leave then please do so, but we won’t be upset if you’re here when we get back.” they gave you soft smiles as they made their way out of the house leaving you with your thoughts.

once you got the tears to stop, you knew that if you didn’t get off the couch now you would never make it to matt’s room. you were hesitant to knock. you didn’t hear anything in the otherside of the door. you were almost hoping he was asleep so you could go home and forget this ever happened.

as you began to raise your hand the door slowly opened. matt’s head was hung low looking at his phone. your lips parted slightly in shock. he quickly looked up when he noticed someone was standing there. “i- sorr- i um- i have to go.” you barely got out. as you tried turning so you could walk in the other room. “y/n?” matt was in shock and confused. you were the last person he expected to see. he just wanted to run over and hug you, but he kept his restraint. you rushed over to the couch looking for your keys. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have come. chris and nick called me and i was worried about you but i really shouldn’t be here.” when you got nervous you just talked fast. your mouth couldn’t keep up with all the thoughts running through your head.

matt hadn’t moved from his doorway. he was frozen watching you pace the living room. when he finally came to his senses he spoke up to stop you. “wait please stop. please. i want to talk to you.” matt rushed over to you and grabbed your hand trying to get you to look at him. he fully expected you to pull away, but his confidence slightly boosted when you didn’t.

“please.” he repeated. “please come sit with me.” his words were soft and nervous. you nodded looking up at him. he walked you over to his room hand in hand. matt gestured for you to sit in his bed as he sat across from you. you decided to talk first. you just wanted to know he was okay. “um. your brothers asked me to come talk to you. they said you hadn’t left your room, and i know i shouldn’t be, because of the way we ended things, but i was really worried about you, matt. i don’t want you to be upset. i know i was really mean and i’m so sorry-” “no. please do not apologize.” he reached over to hold your hands. “i deserved everything you said to me. you were right. please look at me, sweetheart. i have been a mess because i feel so shitty about the way i treated you. and i couldn’t look at chris and nick because they lost you too. i feel so fucking bad.”

“i know you do, baby. i want to forgive you i really do, but i can’t go back to the way things were.” both of you had tears running down your faces. you just wanted to hold each other and forget everything. “i promise i can be better. i promise that i can do better. you deserve better then i’ve ever treated you and i will work my ass off everyday to prove that to you.” you moved closer to matt as you held his face and used the pads of your thumbs to wipe his tears. you leaned your forehead against his as you sat there debating what to say. “i know you will, matt. i believe you.” “do you really?” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. he wanted nothing more then to kiss you but he couldn’t push your boundaries. “i do, baby. i’m so in love with you. i don’t know how i’ve spent this long without you.” you said slightly leaning in to matt.

both of you flicked your eyes between your lips and back to each others eyes. “i love you too.” matt said. “can i please kiss you?” he asked nervously. you guys had kissed millions of times before but something was different this time. you guys felt closer. “please, matt. you can do anything to me.” and with that your lips instantly connected. you two melted into eachother as the kiss deepened. he quickly swiped his tongue against your bottom lip asking for entrance which you accepted. “let me show you how sorry i am?” “please.”

he was chaos, he was revelry

bedroom eyes look like a remedy

matt gently pushed your back down onto his mattress. he took his lips off of yours as he pecked his way down your neck. your hands traveled down his chest as you pulled on the edge of his shirt. he took notice to this and hastily removed the piec rod fabric. he sent you pleading eyes as you nodded at him to take yours off as well. he took your bra off with it and trailed his hand down your arm to intertwine your fingers. your unoccupied hand went to matt’s hair as he placced soft kissed to your boobs. he’s movements become desperate as he attached his lips to my nipple as he gently sucked.

soft pants came out of your mouth as you pushed matt’s head lower towards where you were craving him most. he tilted his head up at you with a smug grin. “yeah baby, is that what you want?” he smirked at you as he shimmied your legs out of your pants and threw them to the corner of his room. he traveled down lower as he started to spread your legs letting him lay between them. he breath met your clit and he turned his head to bite the inside of your thigh.

“tell me what you need, sweetheart” “you, matt. i need you to touch me.” you rushed out. you needed to be close to him. you just wanted to feel him. matt pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your slit. his cold hands tips sent goose bumps through your body. you swallowed thickly as he sent one quick lick to your core. he looked at you for a reaction only to get a nod of encouragement from you.

matt hummed while he wrapped one hand around your thigh spreading you farther apart for him. he slowly leaned into you dipping is tongue deeper into your wet folds. matt could feel the blood rushing to his cock due to your small pants and moans. the tight grip on his hair only encouraged him to keep going. you let out a small scream as he slowly began to enter his fingers into you. “fuck matt just like that.” you said as his middle and ring fingers curled up hitting that spongy spot. matt hummed into your cunt as he violently licked your clit.

neither of you had touched yourselves or anyone else in over a month. the pent up frustration made things go a lot faster then either of you expected. matt began rutting his hips softly into his mattress trying to relieve the tension he was feeling. you clenched around his fingers signally your close orgasm. matt’s head came up as his fingers still thrusted into you. “that feel good, baby. you gonna cum for me. come on, sweetheart. cum for me.” matt didn’t let up as your moans got louder if anything it made him to go in with more force. your orgasm came fast and hard. matt continued sucking as you came down from your high. you panted as matt slowly pulled his fingers out of you.

you started to sit up you you could return the favor only to be pushed back down as matt met you in a kiss. “no baby. tonight’s about you. i just want to make you feel good. i want to show you how sorry i am.” you looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “you do make me feel good matt. just let me return the favor.” you were quickly cut off by the sound of matt’s pants being pulled down. he shock his head at you to deny your request and your hand found the waistband of his boxers as you began to pull his cock out.

he was hard and somehow looked bigger then you remembered. matt’s head fell forward when you started stroking him. his arm that he was using to hold himself up almost giving out at the sensation. you ran his cock through your folds wetting him from you arousal and his precum. he took control as he slid into you, giving you a second to adjust, and then bottoming out at the sign of your approval.

you both let out signs as matt started thrusting into you. he ran his hand up and down your side and placed long kisses on your neck. certain to leave at least one hickey. matt was fully immersed in you. “matt please don’t stop. faster..fuck.” matt had every intention on taking his time with you tonight, to really show you how he feels, but he couldn’t turn down the opportunity. “fuck baby.” matt said speeding up. “faster? you want me to fuck you faster hm? tell me how good i’m making you feel baby.” matt kept up his pace as your hands found his back. your nails scratched down his skin leaving red marks in their trail. you threw your head back in pleasure when matt began rubbing your clit in figure eight motions. your noises only got louder but you were so fucked out that matt laughed when you couldn’t form a sentence. “you got it baby. you’re doing to good for me.” matt’s hips slammed into you surely leaving bruises. “tell me how good i’m making you feel. use your words.”

with one hand on your clit and the other brushing hair off of your forehead, matt soon approached his first orgasm of the night. you gasped and tried to catch your breath to say coherent words. “shit- i- god you’re doing so good, mmh. you feel so good. don’t stop. gonna cum.” you quickly reached your second orgasm. “yeah, you gonna cum,” matt taunted as his motions became sloppy. “good girl, cum with me, y/n.”

both of your orgasms built rapidly and didn’t disappoint. your head flew back in pleasure as matt lowly groaned and let out a small whimper. he rode out both of your orgasms and you reached out to out your head in this chest as you became overstimulated. matt slowly pulled out and fell down beside you as he leaned for his shirt to clean you up. “i love you.” you said as you rolled over to place your head in his chest. “i love you most.” he replied giving a kiss to the top of your head.

thinking it can change the

beat of my heart when he touches me

and counteract the chemistry

and undo the destiny

matt and you layed in a comfortable silence as you held each other. no one could ruin this moment for you two. you saw the comments over the months that you had ruined matt or that you’re a whore and you didn’t deserve him. no one knew the real truth. matt and you were made for each other. you didn’t believe in soulmates until matt came around.

you were still in matt’s bed when nick and chris got home that night. sound asleep you two basked in the presence of eachother. matt’s two brothers saw his bedroom door slightly ajar, they made their way over to see what was going on.

with no comment they smiled at each other noticing your states. they were happy to have their favorite couple back.

you ain’t gotta pray for me

me and my wild boy

and all this wild joy

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo snaps #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

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cannedpickledpeaches · 1 day

Text

Insert Your Name (12)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!

Notes and TW: Last chapter! Side stories will follow. Thank you for sticking with this series for so long! This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

7:30 P.M. DD/MM/YYYY

I thought I knew the truth for a while—that this world existed inside a story. That this was a world which revolved around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around me existed to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world was created for “(Y/N).”

I was Friend A. Friend A was never mentioned again after page two of that story.

It turns out that I was sort of wrong. This world is made for stories, from stories, and (Y/N) happened to be the main character at the time. Now that I’m the author, I made myself the main character.

You wrote “story” and “world” so much that they hardly look like real words anymore. The tip of your pen hovers over the first page of your journal. It’s your first time keeping one, and you aren’t certain how to proceed. What tone do you use? Should it be informal or professional? How long should each entry be? How detailed should you make it?

The trapdoor to the attic flips open. Floyd’s head pokes through it like a garden eel in the sand.

“Whatcha doin’ over there? Still lookin’ for that manuscript?”

You shake your head. The manuscript for (Y/N)’s story disappeared without a trace after your meeting with Hans. No matter how hard you searched, nothing turned up, so you could only assume he retrieved it.

“No use in looking for it. I’m starting on my journal.” The pen twirls in your hand. “I’m not really sure how I want to write it.”

He hoists himself up and saunters over to where you’re curled up at the window. He peers at your handwriting. Flippantly, he flops on the floor next to you and yawns.

“Who caaares. Write whatever ya feel like writin’. It’s not like the one before was any good.”

The previous author’s manuscript was riddled with inconsistencies, plot holes, and grammar mistakes. It wouldn’t be a massive problem. Hans would simply have to work harder to fill in the gaps.

“The previous one failed, though.”

“Then just don’t fail.” He grins up at you. “Easy, right?”

You pinch his nose, laughing when he swats at your hand.

“Easier said than done.” Despite that, his words ease the burden on your shoulders just a bit. You don’t need to overthink this. It’s your story, yours to tell however you’d like. “Thanks for the advice, though.”

“Sure, sure.” Your name rolls off his tongue dismissively. “You worry too much.”

You glance at him. “You’ve been calling me ‘Red Handfish’ recently, why’d you switch back to my name?”

The lamplight glints in Floyd’s eyes briefly, then he closes them. A lazy grin spreads on his lips.

“I was calling ya ‘Red Handfish’ ’cuz I was hopin’ you’d get your hands all red and bloody again.” A huff of air escapes him. “Shoulda been there when you beat up the security.”

“Typically, you’re supposed to not hope I’m beating up your men.”

“It’s fine. Not like Jade and I need much protectin’.” His voice quiets down to a mumble. “You’re enough for security or whatever.”

His voice trails off at the end. Soon, quiet snores fill the attic. Seeing that he isn’t planning on disrupting your writing, your attention returns to your journal. Following his advice might not be a bad idea.

My main priority was to break the curse on Mr. and Mrs. Leech. I thought I’d have to ask (Y/N) to reach out to Vil Schoenheit or write something in this journal, but it turns out I didn’t have to do anything. Hans went ahead and nudged the odds in my favour already. At least, I suspect he had a hand in it. But I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll happily accept that Walrus’s team and our own people have found a way to break the curse.

Azul was slightly disappointed that he didn’t manage to find a method on his own. He really wanted to put the twins in his debt, but I guess he’ll have to sulk. His specialty is potions, after all. Not curses. He’s also a little salty because this implies Vil Schoenheit is still more skilled than him on the subject of curses. His competitive nature never dies down when it comes to other competent people, even after all these years.

Anyway, the curse was undone three days ago. They’ve woken up perfectly stable and healthy, if a little tired. The twins have spent nearly every waking hour in their room. I’m glad they’re all looking much more lively.

Their parents wanted to go right back to work, but Jade and Floyd have been very insistent on making sure they rest. Right now, Jade and his parents have decided to split up the work equally, but Jade plans on eventually relinquishing his position as the temporary head of the Leech Mafia. He doesn’t want it back anytime soon. His parents might want him to keep observing their work, but I think he’ll take a long breather after the Carpenter Mafia dissolves. He says he wants to join a research lab on fungi. I’m sure he’ll enjoy himself there.

Speaking of Jade’s interests, Floyd owes him quite a bit for breaking his terrariums. You cast a glance at the twin dozing off on the floor. Jade’s been working him hard. Just as you’re about to pull a knitted blanket off the window seat and drape it over his torso, Jade climbs up to the attic.

“Ah, I thought I might find you two here.” He ignores your shushing motion, speaking nearly louder than his usual conversational volume. “Have you made any progress on that journal?”

“Keep it down, Floyd’s sleeping.”

“Oh? I suppose he is.” He smiles as though he’s entirely innocent. “Even though he should be running an errand on the west side of the city right now. Isn’t that so, my dear brother?”

Floyd stirs, brows furrowing as he grumbles. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’m afraid you’re late. Why don’t you head out? It wouldn’t do for you to procrastinate.” Jade leans over him, his shadow eclipsing Floyd’s face. The latter gripes some more before rolling away and hopping right through the trapdoor. His footsteps echo through the halls, eventually leading to the sound of the front door.

“He’s tired. You should let him rest.” You close your journal and set it beside you.

He kneels by your seat and rests his head on your knee. Gingerly, you reach out and comb your fingers through his hair. His entire body melts against the wall and your knee.

“I am also tired.” His eyelids drop halfway, a pitiable pout on his lips. “Much more so than he is, I’m sure.”

“And what? You want a gold medal for the Fatigue Olympics?” Despite your words, your other hand holds his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Come on, get off the floor. It can’t be comfortable.”

He sighs in contentment. “With the way you’re touching me, I have half a mind to stay where I am.”

You’ve come to realize that Jade acts this way when he’s looking for attention, and he only actively looks for attention from you. With a sigh escaping the smile on your lips, you ease his head off your knee and move your legs so that your feet touch the floor. He has the gall to look like a kicked puppy.

“You’re so dramatic.” You pat the cushioned space next to you. “Sit up here.”

It’s like his fatigue disappears as soon as you extend the invitation. He wastes no time in sitting next to you, his thigh pressing against yours. One of his hands reaches behind you. You feel it causing the cushions to shift under you as he uses it to support his weight. Strangely, it feels more intimate than if he had touched you directly. The knowledge that his arm is there creates a sense of security. Sturdy, safe, like the face of a cliff that has your back. He’ll never be a threat to you. You think back to what you once thought of people who trust Jade, and you wonder if you’re a fool, desperate, or if you have something on him.

It might not be so bad to be a fool once in a while.

You lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. A pause, followed by the light pressure of his cheek against your hair. His body is cool to the touch like always, and you find comfort in it.

“I’ll help you make new terrariums to replace the ones Floyd broke.”

“How kind of you.” The hand behind you lifts, only to find its place on your waist, securing you to his side. “In that case, I should consider what I’d like to grow in them. Lichen would decorate some surfaces well, but I doubt it would be possible.”

“Lichen?” You often see it back home near the shore. “Why not?”

“It cannot survive in a closed system like my terrariums.” His voice lowers to a soft, almost sweet tone. “It requires clean, fresh air, outside the confines of a box that I control. The charm of keeping a terrarium is that I control every factor within it, down to what lives or dies. But despite the fact that it eludes my grasp, I adore observing its beauty in the environment where it thrives.”

Somehow, you don’t think he’s talking about lichen anymore.

“Lichen grows on trees and rocks, right?” You think about the cliffside. Patches of pale green life covered the rocks where you met Jade. It brought a sort of earthy, rustic quality to the area. “It’s pretty. I think I’ve seen a few of your photos focusing on it.”

“Yes, it needs to be anchored to a sturdy surface.” He adjusts his grip on your waist. “Unassuming, allowing other elements of the scenery to shine, but charming and effective in its own right.”

You don’t want to ask if he’s referring to you. He’ll surely tease you for being self-absorbed. However, you are not so prideful as to not acknowledge what he’s trying to say.

“I sort of understand wanting to be anchored to something.” You place one hand over his. “It’s easier to let my guard down when there’s something that can protect my back.”

“Allow me to assist you with that.” He intertwines your fingers. “If you must be anchored to something, I’ll be more than happy to provide you with support forever, until you ask me to stop.”

“All this talk about ‘forever.’” A grin pulls at your lips. There’s no harm in teasing him once in a while. “It’s like you’re trying to marry me. What’s with that, huh?”

His entire body freezes. You lift your head from his shoulder, trying to look at his face.

“Jade? I was joking—”

He gently presses against your temple, his wrist blocking your eyes as he guides your head back down to his shoulder. What a letdown. This time, you really wanted to see his expression.

“Incidentally,” he says, “would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“You changed the topic way too abruptly.” Laughter bubbles in your throat. “I thought you were better at making conversation than that.”

“I’m inclined to disagree.” He doesn’t elaborate. “Are you free tomorrow evening? We can book a reservation for that restaurant you wanted to try.”

Usually, you wouldn’t turn it down. But . . .

“Sorry, I’ll be out with (Y/N) all day.” You’ve missed her. And after she called you in distress over losing the polaroids you took together, you promised to replace them with new ones. There’s so much you have yet to do with her. “Maybe the day after?”

Jade sighs loudly, as though he’s the most pitiful being in the world. Amidst teasing laughter, you close your journal and focus your attention on him. It’s alright to take your time writing it. Your story is a process that does not need to be rushed. It may only be a page at the moment, but one day, you’re sure this journal will fill with your experiences, plans, and thoughts. You will continue on living as your own person—not a side character or a main character in a grander scheme, but as yourself. To live as a human being with your unique experiences—that is your story.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #twst fanfic #mafia au #floyd leech #multi chap fic #slow burn has burned #thanks for reading so far!

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royaltozaki · 3 days

Text

the blurry line between friendship and something more

sana x fem!reader - trailer ▸ part 1

synopsis: the second day on this season’s bachelorette involves our first group date, a solo date with last night’s lucky winner, and of course, a rose ceremony to say goodbye to a few more contestants

warnings: cursing, implied sex, children, mentions of absent parenthood

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: my head is so empty but i hope that this is an enjoyable continuation, ty to all the love and all the readers <3 appreciate u all

⋆｡°·☁︎

you wake up quite early the next day despite the long night. you pass by sana's door that's still closed, safely assuming she would still be asleep. it's also early enough that none of the producers or costume and makeup teams have come by yet to start preparing the two of you for shooting today, and you decide to head downstairs and make yourself a smoothie.

you cringe slightly as you turn the blender on, the loud whirring blasting through the peace and quiet of the early morning, but knowing sana sleeps like the dead, you're not too concerned about waking her up.

once your smoothie is ready, you walk out onto the patio and take in the slight bite of the morning air, reflecting over the events of last night while the sun makes its ascension into the sky.

you had to admit it was a little funny to see the faces of some of the contestants when sana called you out before the rose ceremony and introduced you as her best friend. you took glee in heechul's reaction in particular, horrified at what you may have said about him to sana, sending a wink over to jacky and eunji and a smile at miyeon who had all looked on in surprise as you took your place next to sana.

the rose ceremony droned on a little after that. sana had eliminated people that didn't leave much of an impression on either of you, you didn't remember any of their names. fitting since the night was all about first impressions.

what was surprising however, was who won her first impression rose. wonsik, the terrified guy that looked like he was going to pee himself every time a woman so much as looked in his direction, must have made some sort of lasting impact on sana that hopefully did not involve actual urine. she wasn't specific when you asked her afterwards, just saying that she had enjoyed her conversation with him and that he seemed like a sweet guy.

this entire thing was making you think maybe you knew sana a little less than you thought.

you sigh. an uncomfortable pit has found it's home in the bottom of your stomach ever since the beginning of last night, and it didn't seem like it was going away anytime soon. you dread what was to come.

⋆｡°·☁︎

the first group date was underway.

sana had picked miyeon, eunji, jacky, jun, dae, and jiwon to participate. all 6 of them had made relatively good impressions with you on the first night, so this made for a good chance to dig a little more and see if you could eliminate any of these contestants.

it was honestly a pretty intense date to start with, diving right into the nitty gritty relationship questions most couples wouldn't even attempt until a few months in.

kids.

you knew sana adored kids and that she was a natural with them. this date involved everyone heading to a childcare and running it for a day.

this meant you could sit off to the side and laugh at the way eunji and dae looked completely out of depth trying to get a naked toddler that was running around on a tantrum back into his clothes.

you were sitting with jiwon since you didn't get to talk much to her on the introduction night, but with her experience as a nurse, she had a way with kids that made them just fall into her lap and completely calm down.

"did you say anything about me to sana?" she was a little awkward sitting with you, in contrast to the confidence she had last night when she had pulled sana away for a conversation during what you liked to refer to in your head as 'the hunger games'.

you feign indifference, "oh you know... only that you were really rude to me when we first met and called me a" you cover the little girl's ears sitting in jiwon's lap, "whore."

she looks at you in horror.

you burst out laughing, "i'm just joking jiwon don't worry. no i didn't say anything in particular which means you must have made a plenty good impression on your own to land on this group date." you offer an apologetic smile as she collects herself, combing her fingers through the little girl's hair lulling her into sleep.

"well thankyou. i'm glad sana has you here." she says honestly, placing the girl into a cot when she's fallen asleep and tucking her in, "it's pretty daunting to be dating so many people at once. it's good you can set her straight and be an objective presence."

you hum, "you're really good with these kids. is that something you want for yourself in the future?"

"not really to be honest. i grew up with really young siblings and my parents were pretty absent so i guess i got good at taking care of them because i had to. but that's also why i don't really want kids. being a nurse is really tiring and you're on call pretty much 24/7. the overtime is terrible and by the time we finally get off work, all we want is a good night’s sleep before we have to do it all over again. i don't want to have kids if i'm going to be like my parents, if i have them i want to make sure i have the time for them to give them the proper care and love they need."

"i'm sorry you had to go through that." the two of you whip your heads around to find sana there with a gentle smile on her face, carrying a little boy on her hip who looks perfectly snug against her.

jiwon's blushing and shuffling over so sana can join you on the carpeted floor. "there's nothing to apologise for. my experiences have shaped who i am today, it's why i do what i do and why i love it."

"that's admirable. i'm actually someone who really loves kids and would love to have some of my own, but i can definitely see different perspectives." sana's slotting in easily, and you find your jaw clenching at the way she's wrapped an arm around jiwon's and playing with her fingers.

jiwon's fumbling and a blushing mess, "oh! i mean like obviously it depends on my partner! i'd be open to discussing kids with the right person, but yeah like i said, i just want to make sure that the kids get what they need or it can really mess them up."

sana's giggling and you feel completely invisible, quietly excusing yourself to let them talk.

you bite your lip, the pit in your stomach feeling heavier than ever. you want to kick yourself, you have no idea why you're feeling this way, and jiwon seemed like such a sweet person as well, there was no reason at all for you to think she was unsuitable for sana. and yet, watching them touch and laugh and talk together made you feel all sorts of things you weren't ready to delve into yet.

you walk towards miyeon who is trying her best but still looks very much out of her zone.

"hey y/n-" she grimaces as the girl on her shoulder seems to pull on her hair, "bet everyone wants to date me right now huh?"

you laugh, helping get the girl off of her and pushing her towards another group of kids that seemed to be playing some sort of game.

"i'm sure sana appreciates the effort."

she cringes as she pulls something out of her hair and inspecting it before throwing it into the bin with a look of disgust, "eugh. i'm never having kids."

you laugh again, grabbing a comb and offering it to her as she accepts it gratefully.

"so you pulled a fast one on us last night huh?" again, you're struck by the similarities she shares with sana, if sana didn't love kids as much as she did, you'd bet she would be acting exactly like miyeon, screeching and running from the kids afraid of getting dirty or clung onto, kind of like how she would run from birds.

you shove her teasingly as she sends you a light glare, "don't worry. i only had good things to say about you." you smile reassuringly.

"oh i'm sure. i'm perfect anyways i don't know what you could've said that could be bad anyway." she smirks.

you roll your eyes goodheartedly, "actually i think i just found something. better watch your back, next time you pull anything funny i'll just tell sana you can't love anyone more than you love yourself."

she fakes a gasp, exaggeratingly placing a hand over her mouth, "you wouldn't."

"oh i would."

she sighs exasperatedly, "guess i better pack all my mirrors up and head back to file a marriage certificate for miyeon and me."

you spend the rest of the date with miyeon, laughing and joking around, you're appreciative of the distraction she offers and you're glad that she's here. even if you weren't her first priority here, you're glad to have made a friend in her.

⋆｡°·☁︎

after the group date ends, sana is off for her solo date with wonsik. it's strange being so involved in her dating life all of a sudden. you're used to her telling you about her relationships, the dates she's been on, but now you're directly involved and you're seeing how she acts around the people she's dating. it was a whole different side of her.

that night, there's another rose ceremony. you're with all the contestants again, mingling and talking while waiting for sana and wonsik to make the grand appearance after coming back from their date. you'd overheard from the producers they were going on a helicopter ride and having a forest picnic, all very extravagant and fantastical.

so it's not too much of a surprise when everyone rushes towards the loud engine sounds and rotating helicopter wings yelling and full of excitement.

wonsik steps out first and he turns and extends a hand for sana to take.

she steps out in a stunning satin pale green dress that clings close to her curves and accentuates her shoulders and collarbone and the jewelry hanging around her neck. she's all smiles and holding wonsik's hand as she walks towards all of you.

you down your drink, finding relief in the way the alcohol burns down your throat.

let the hunger games begin.

⋆｡°·☁︎

sana has been neglecting you today. that's what you're thinking as you down your eighth drink of the night. you're fine though, completely, perfectly, fine fine fine.

jacky's calling for another round of shots and you cheer with everyone as you all down it. you think sana's off with dae or someone but you lost track after the fifth drink.

"miyeon!!" you're grinning as you sling an arm around your new friend.

"woaaah y/n how much have you had to drink?"

"like eight but i can hold my alcohol good trust." you place your hand on your heart in mock salute.

"uh huhhhhhh c'mon let's get you some water."

"no! no water, only more alcohol! c'mon do a shot with me!" you're pouting and stamping your foot like a little kid, trying to drag her back towards the guys who are whooping and calling for another round.

"nuh uhhhh." her firm is strong around your waist as she drags you away towards a semi-secluded alcove and sits you down on the cushioned bench.

"who woulda known you'd be this kinda drunk y/n. sana must have her hands full with you." she's teasing as she gets you to drink a full glass of water, making sure you've drunk the whole cup before putting it away and sitting next to you.

you're pouting, "sana has her hands full with all of YOU actually. she doesn't have time for me here. i don't even know why she brought me here. i haven't done anything except watch her get it on with like every single person here." you hiccup, slurring as you're talking.

miyeon's frowning, a hand at your back, rubbing circles in a comforting pattern, "i'm sure that's not true y/n. you're her best friend, she just has a lot going on right now. imagine dating 24 people at the same time, anyone would have a hard time even remembering all of those names."

"yeah but my point still stands! there was literally no reason to bring me on here! she literally just did it to make me suffer i swear."

miyeon's surprised, "why are you suffering?"

you bury your head in your hands, groaning, "ughhhhhhhh i don't knowwwwwwwww. i just feel so icky whenever i see her while we're filming. like am i just being an attention whore or am i like like friend jealous? it's just so weird seeing her talking to people with like, the intention to be with them."

"well do you have this problem outside of filming? like in your real lives, do you get friend jealous easily?"

you look at miyeon dumbly, "no because sana's always going to come back to me."

she sucks in a breath and you can't tell what the expression on her face means, "what's different now then? are you worried she's not going to come back to you?" she's gentle and soft and you feel so comfortable with her, so easily able to open up to her despite only knowing each other for two days. reality television really does make everything go so much faster.

"no it's not that. she's not the type of person to just leave her friendships behind after she gets into a relationship. she cares too much about people to do that." you lean your head onto her shoulder, sighing in defeat.

"you know what it sounds like to me?"

"hmm?"

"have you ever thought that maybe you l-"

before she can finish the sentence, everyone is being called back into the house for the rose ceremony. tonight, 3 more people were going to be eliminated leaving 16 contestants. you hadn't even noticed that sana had come back from her talks with the other participants, when you spot her, she's looking at you strangely, you've never seen that look on her face before and you're a little scared at what it could mean. you hadn't done anything to upset her had you?

miyeon sighs next to you, "c'mon." she stretches a hand out to you, and you take it gratefully, walking back hand in hand, forgetting what miyeon was saying while thinking about what that look sana was wearing meant.

⋆｡°·☁︎

you take your place next to sana, a little shakily as your vision blurs and you giggle a little. sana sends you a sharp glare as a hand shoots out to support your back and helping you right yourself. you mutter a quick sorry and stare down at your heels, remembering you're being filmed and most of the country will see this tomorrow.

sana starts reading out the names of the contestants that will continue to stay and you're checking off names slowly in your head. some people you still haven't really gotten to know too well yet, but you were getting a little better with names as you recognise most of the ones being called out.

you cringe when jihyo's name is called out and she saunters out with a bright smile, kissing sana on the cheek before receiving her rose. you smile for jacky, eunji, and jiwon, and it's not really a surprise that wonsik already got a rose on his date with sana.

slowly the roses wittle down, and then there's only one left.

hold on.

you look up to assess the remaining contestants.

miyeon.

you meet her gaze and she smiles at you encouragingly, always the optimist.

there's no way sana wasn't going to pick miyeon for the last rose right? they had hit it off so well on the first night and miyeon was picked for the group date today as well. as far as you know they still had good banter going on at the date and her talk with sana tonight seemed to go off without any hiccups as well.

yeah there was nothing to worry about. sana would pick miyeon.

"heechul."

the next few moments go in slow motion for you. you're dumbfounded as you watch heechul step forward with a sleazy smirk on his face, stalking forward with misjudged confidence. behind him, miyeon has kept her smile on her face but you can see the slight fall in her eyes.

"heechul, will you accept this-"

before you can think, before sana can finish the sentence, you're stepping forward and knocking the flower out of her hand.

everyone looks at you in shock and there's a stunned silence that fills the room for 2 seconds before Heechul interrupts.

"ahaha I will Sana thankyou-"

"No!"

He looks over at you with a smoulder on his face, an eye twitching as he tries to compose himself in front of the cameras.

Sana's snapped out of her shock now as well and turns to you, quite clearly angry with the scene you're making.

"outside. now."

she doesn't give you another second and turns on her heel. you gulp, you'd rarely seen sana angry, she was always the happy-go-lucky sunshine girl, and never was that anger ever directed at you.

"what the fuck was that?" after you'd scrambled after her.

you're still dumbfounded, "w-what? what do you mean what was that? i should be asking you that!? how could you pick heechul over miyeon?!"

her expression grows cold, "that's not your choice to make. much less on national television."

"and that's not an answer! i don't understand sana! you got along so well with miyeon and i told you what an ass heechul was! i don't- i can't- it doesn't make sense!"

"it doesn't have to make sense to you. love doesn't make sense. i need you to stop butting into my decisions. i chose heechul and that's that. miyeon is going home tonight."

"you asked me to help with your decisions! you asked me to be here! and i don't see the point of that if you're just going to ignore everything i say and do what you want. i may as well just go home if you're going to be like this the rest of the season!"

sana's face softens and she almost looks... ashamed?

"i'm sorry. please don't go home. i do need you here. i promise i'll take your suggestions in after tonight... just not on this. please don't argue with me."

you've started to pace in frustration in front of her, "but i don't understand! why? why would you ruin this poor girl's chance with you when she's clearly infatuated already and-"

"she's not! can't you see?! she likes you!"

you pause. what?

sana's blushing and clearing her throat, "anyway, if she's not here for the right reasons then she shouldn't be here anyway. so i'm sending her home."

you burst then, "what?! sana what the fuck?!"

she bristles, "don't what the fuck me! you didn't see the way she talked to you at the group date today! and then just then, her arm around you like you're her girlfriend," she spits the word out, "rubbing you're back and looking at you like that! you'd have to be blind not to see that she has feelings for you!"

"my eyes are right here sana." you point aggressively at your own eyes, "and i can see just fine thank you very much. miyeon was keeping me company at the childcare because my best friend didn't have time for me and left me to fend for my own with all these strangers! and miyeon was helping me again tonight because i was out of my mind drunk! i felt like shit and she was being a good friend while you were off god knows where making out with every other person in here!"

"they're strangers to me too you know?! at least i'm making the effort to get to know them when you barely even know half their names! and that's like half your job here too isn't it? and i'm sorry that i have to talk to everyone here because if you didn't know, we're filming a show and i'm the main attraction so i'm sorry that i actually have to go around and date people because that's the whole point of this fucking show!"

you're both breathing heavily, emotions running high.

a producer finally gains the courage to interrupt the two of you, looking like she wants to be anywhere else, she gingerly comes up and taps sana's shoulder. "i'm sorry guys but we have to get back to filming. the contestants are getting antsy and we need to reshoot that last rose because-" she glances at you with pity, "um yeah. so if we could get back that would be really great..."

sana's tense when she speaks up, "alright. i'll be in in a second."

the producer doesn't look convinced but nods quickly and rushes away again.

sana sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "go home. you're drunk. i'll get one of the staff members to drive you."

you're about to protest when she interrupts, "you're drunk y/n. and definitely not television ready. go home." she says with finality and turns around, leaving you outside.

you're seething in the aftermath, adrenaline running high and blood pumping. you push off the staff that sana's sent, instead, walking around the side of the house and towards the front where the limos waiting to take the eliminated contestants home would be waiting.

you're still replaying the argument in your head when the eliminated participants finally exit the house. you spot miyeon immediately, her head still held high, and you feel another flush of anger at the fact that she was eliminated.

when she sees you she offers a slight smile, "hey y/n. funny we're meeting like this again. last time we were in this same limo coming to this place all hopes and dreams right?"

you sigh at her positivity, not holding back when you pull her into a hug and squeezing.

"i'm sorry you had to leave like this. i know how you felt about sana. i'm sorry she couldnt reciprocate that."

her arms come up around you as well, and you feel her release a heavy sigh, a little bit of her mask cracking.

"i appreciate that. i hope you take care of her y/n."

you bite your lip, trying not to think of the fight the two of you just had, nodding anyway to reassure her.

"although i know you will. knowing how you feel about her..."

you pull away this time, looking at her in confusion, "what do you mean by that?"

she smiles at you sadly, "you might not realise it yet. but when you do it'll all make sense. i just hope it won't be too late then."

"what- miyeon-"

she's leaving and getting into the car, slipping something into your hand.

"take care y/n. it was nice knowing you even though it was for a short amount of time. i'm glad we became friends. thank you for being there for me during this." she smiles and closes the door, and you can only look after her as her car pulls away.

you look at what she's slipped into your hand.

a small piece of paper with a line of numbers written in neat cursive.

you clutch it a little tighter, grateful for her extension of friendship even beyond all of this, in the form of her number.

you turn to the poor staff member who's been awkwardly hovering behind you and gesture that you can go now. he sighs in relief and leads you towards another car to take you home.

⋆｡°·☁︎

sleep doesn't come easy. you're tossing and turning. you had heard sana come home and go straight to her room not long ago. you sigh, feeling conflicted. on one hand, you felt guilty that you had almost made a public embarrassment out of yourself and of sana, it was lucky the show wasn't aired live. but on the other, you were still confused how she could think miyeon had feelings for you of all people. it was so obvious to you that miyeon only had eyes for her. she had said it herself on the first night, that she wouldn't be guilty of any cross dating within the participant pool and that she was only set on sana.

a strike of lightning interrupts your thoughts, followed by the booming sounds of thunder.

you sigh, turning again in your sleep, pulling the comforter up higher, trying to find sleep.

then the second thunder crack shakes through the house and you jump up. sana.

you're out the door in seconds, hand resting on the door handle to sana's room. you hesitate. did she even what you there? you knew she was deathly afraid of thunder and lightning. back home you would always crawl into bed with her, shooshing and talking with her, distracting her until the storm passed and she could fall asleep. but you were afraid things were different now after your fight. you had never fought before, and things were so different with the entire show going on.

a third thunder clap sounds out and you hear a light yelp from the other side of the door and your decision's made. you push through quickly, shutting the door softly behind you as you inch closer to her bed. you cautiously lift a leg onto the comforter, careful not to startle her, and make your way under the blanket where she's shivering and crying, curled up in a ball with her hands over her ears.

you curl up behind her, sliding your arms over her midriff and resting your head against her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. you feel her hands come down to yours immediately, clutching on tightly. she's still whimpering softly and crying but you squeeze against her even tighter, whispering i'm heres and you're okays.

slowly, you feel her breathing even out, she still flinches with every thunderclap, but she's not so tense anymore, uncurling herself but not letting go of your hands.

you're tracing patterns onto her palms, hoping to relax and distract her.

"thankyou." her voice is croaky and quiet.

you hum, nuzzling your nose against the back of her neck, "of course sana. you're my best friend. i'm always going to be here for you."

you feel her tense up again.

you don't want her to push you away so you interlock your fingers, holding her hands firmly in yours, not letting her break away.

"i'm sorry for overreacting tonight. you're right. this is your show and i'm just meant to be here to provide advice, and you can choose whether or not to take that on. but the decisions in the end are yours to make. and i'm sorry i disrespected that."

she sighs, turning in your arms, your heart flips a little at the proximity, but you busy yourself with wiping at her eyes, clearing away the wet tear tracks.

"i'm sorry too. i- i don't really know what came over me. maybe i was just a little scared you'd replace me. you told me on the first night that miyeon reminded you a lot of me. and then seeing the two of you get along so well, and her being able to be there for you when i wasn't, i felt a little angry with myself i think."

"i could never replace you sana. but i need you to understand that miyeon didn't have feelings for me. and i know i need to learn to be a little less clingy and needy, you're carrying a lot right now and you don't need to babysit another person on top of all that. so don't be angry with yourself for that, you've always been there for me in the past whenever i've needed you. and i know you'll always be there for me in the future too."

she frowns, "but not tonight. i wasn't there for you tonight." she brushes your cheek gently, "are you okay? why did you drink so much? that's not normally like you."

you sigh, placing your forehead against hers and closing your eyes, reveling in the closeness and familiar comfort sana offered.

"i don't really know. miyeon was saying something but she never got to finish her thought."

you know sana frowns again at the mention of miyeon because you feel her forehead wrinkling a little. you chuckle, "stop that." you poke her side and she wriggles away from you, pouting.

you hum, "it's hard to explain sana. it's like- like i can see everything now y'know? like i'm there when you're flirting with others, i'm there when you're in the process of getting to know someone and dating someone and it's different because that's not a real experience. like in the real world, i'm not going on group dates with your 6 other romantic interests, i just get the brief summary from you after you've finished the date. and i don't know- i- this is a hard word to use but i think i get jealous? but like- ugh i don't know it's all just so confusing and-"

you blink. a soft warmth is pressing against your lips. then as soon as it came it's gone.

your eyes are wide as you look into sana's equally widening eyes.

"oh my god i'm so sorry i didn't-"

and then you're pressing your lips against hers again. it's addicting. her lips are soft, and fit perfectly against yours, and this feels nothing like all of the kisses you've shared with your various exes. she's returning the kiss, moulding against you, a hand coming up to rest on your neck as you feel her fingers slide into your hair. your fingers come to rest naturally at her waist, which you find is just skin because her top has ridden up a little and she gasps at the cold feeling of your hands on her body.

you take the opportunity and lick into her, earning your first moan that shoots a line of energy straight to your core.

you're on top of her now, and it's your turn to moan into her when you feel a leg lift and press right against where you need her most. you're nipping down her neck, laying soft kisses and licks and she's panting under you, both of your minds hazy with lust and want.

she speaks up first though, "w-wait y/n-"

you hum against her pulse point as you suck on it, biting softly, relishing the moan it rips out of her.

"should we really- ah- be doing this?"

you pause, lifting off her a little, the sight of her panting and out of breath, lips swollen from kissing, hair messy, and a slightly darkening spot at her neck, all of it going straight to your core, as you grind down a little on her leg.

"fuck- i want to. i want you if you want to."

you're back at her neck, licking and sucking a path up to her ear, taking in an earlobe and nipping lightly.

she jolts up into you and you both moan at the slight friction it provides. she's closing her eyes, "oh fuck it- ye-s yes god- yes i need you y/n please."

and that's all it takes for you to reattach your lips, the storm, the show, everything else completely forgotten, just the two of you in this moment. you could deal with everything else tomorrow.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana imagines #twice imagines #sana x f!reader #sana x fem!reader #royaltozaki

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heyidkyay · 2 days

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it.

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep.

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me.

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand.

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky.

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs.

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done.

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard.

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more.

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon.

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated.

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.”

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about.

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it.

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile.

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me.

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start Pulling all the stops out On the down low, secretly But I think you knew your psychology Was working on me Infatuated And doing this all wrong You've got My number and my name And you've got me going Yeah, you've got me going Can I see you every day? Do you love me Like I love you? Ah, you've got me going Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me.

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand.

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me?

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays.

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick.

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him.

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings.

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal.

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway.

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him.

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before.

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv.

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which.

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down.

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.”

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...”

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks.

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?”

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind.

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.”

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

61 notes · View notes

abigails-gf · 2 days

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can you write reader and Abby watching a sad movie and Abby sees reader crying so she comforts her 💕

abby anderson x f!reader.

a/n: hiii nonnie !! thank you sm for sending this request. :3 i cry so much while watching movies. omg. the last movie i cried for was puss in boots 2 :(( saw it for the first time two weeks ago and it was so so good. cried when mama bear said that they'll love goldie even if she decides to give up on them for her wish n stuff. aah. anyway !! i hope you enjoy this. it's a bit short, but i think it's cute !! <3 also, 'm working on a longer request which (hopefully) will be up next week. and i'm sooo excited !! okiii byeee !! mwaaahh 💌💕

how you can help palestine, israeli themes in tlou, more ressources !

you and abby had decided to have a movie night once a week. you'd spend the night at her apartment, bringing some snacks with you. and she'd take care of dinner.

tonight, you two were watching a movie she had picked. you ate while watching the first part of the movie, and then cuddled on her couch.

"oh, no! what is she doing? she can't just leave them like that!" you said, talking about the main character deciding to leave her family. abby stayed quiet and squeezed your hand in hers.

as the movie progressed, nearing the end, she looked at you. you were focused on the tv, the glow of it lighting your face – she noticed tears falling down your cheeks. she chuckled. "baby..." she cupped your cheek as you finally turned to her, sniffling. "oh, honey..." she smiled softly at you as you shook your head. "'m sorry, it's so stupid. it's just a stupid movie..." she laughed a little and hugged you. "oh, baby..." she kissed your cheeks. "it's okay. don't apologise for that." she hugged you until the movie was over.

"it's already over?!" you yelled at the tv. abby giggled and caressed your arm. "calm down, baby. it's just a movie." you hugged your girlfriend as she kept on rubbing your arm. "this movie was shit."

abby laughed and kissed your head. "yeah. the movie was so shitty, you cried." she teased. you looked up at her, slapping her chest. "shh. don't make fun of me." she couldn't help but chuckle. "not making fun of you, baby. would never do that."

you rolled your eyes and kissed her. she kissed you back softly, pressing you against her. "sweet girl..." she whispered into the kiss. you smiled and kissed her some more, as her hands travelled to your lower back. "seriously, abby, don't you ever pick a movie like this." she looked at you and caressed your cheek. "next time you'll pick the movie." she said, giving you a peck. "don't like seeing my sweet girl cry." she kissed you once more.

you two laid down on the couch, cuddling. your head on abby's chest as she rubbed your back. "baby? you alright?" she spoke softly, starting to play with your hair. you didn't answer, soft breaths coming out of your mouth.

you had fallen asleep. abby smiled at the sight. she continued to play with your hair for a few minutes before gently getting up, putting your head down on a pillow. she leaned down and kissed your head. "goodnight, sweetheart." she whispered before picking up the dishes.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou2 #tlou x reader #abby anderson blurb #abby the last of us #abby anderson fluff

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 days

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PLEASE POST THE IZZY PART FOR THE NO NUT NOVEMBER

A/n: Only one more of these to make B). This was going to be much shorter but it felt weird to make one really short when the other's are longer so I just kept going and I like this ending much more than the other one and I hope you agree, Izzy lovers are honestly the best kinds of people.

Warnings: smut, oral sex(f+m receiving), fingering(f receiving), degradation, drugs, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Intro

Izzy left the studio with not much care. So long as he wasn’t the first out no one would care, right? Besides, all he really wanted was to stir the pot as per usual, and he did it like a pro. That’s all there was to it. He went on with his business and didn’t think too much about it.

Or so he thought.

He wasn’t doing anything with anyone, staying home more often than not and if he wasn’t he was getting cracked out of his mind at parties where that’s all anyone was doing, no one was getting ready for some action.

His stash was running low so he invited some people over, hoping to fix off of them. When people started showing up and getting loaded he happened to notice someone he’d never seen before.

He asked around and someone eventually gave him something. A friend of a friend of a dealer. Izzy didn’t think too much of it, someone else just trying to get high like him, what’s there to it?

Only, he kept catching her watching him.

At some point he’d gone to the bathroom to snort something alone. He’d just started when you came in and closed the door behind you. He gave you a look. “Sorry, I’m not sharing.” He mumbled.

“I’m not into that stuff.” You responded as he snorted another line. He looked back up at you with a confused expression.

“Then why are you here?” You shrugged and looked up to the fluorescent lighting.

“I’m into other stuff.” Izzy nodded.

“Smack?” He asked, looking at your arm for any track marks. “Heroin?” You took a step closer to him. “Come on, give me a hint, at least.” He asked with a wonky smile. You chewed your cheek and dropped to your knees, looking up at him with innocent starry eyes.

When Izzy saw that he was reminded of the bet. Now, he wasn’t ready to say no to a face like that but he wasn’t ready to forfeit either. Tough decision.

“Sorry, I can’t, my friends and I have this bet-”

“What kind of bet?” You interrupted.

“To see who can last the whole month without, like, doing anything.” He chuckled to himself at how stupid it sounded in his mind.

“Would you be the first one out?” Izzy let out a heavy breath at that and shook his head. All he wanted was to stir the pot and not be the last one out, right now it was just him and Slash. Oh shit, he was in the finals! He hadn’t thought about it that way. “Then what’s the big deal?” Izzy sucked his bottom lip and stared down at you, trying to think through the haze in his mind.

You stayed on your knees, looking up at him and watching for a reaction as you lifted up his shirt. Just enough so you could see his happy trail and press your plush lips to his abdomen. That pretty much killed any thought Izzy had against this.

As you kissed him he undid his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers, hitting you in the face with his dick. You happily took the tip into your mouth and started swirling your tongue around it while your hand came up to stroke him.

He was already leaning against the counter behind him for stability when you took more of him into your mouth, getting yourself used to him hitting the back of your throat before taking him all in your mouth, gagging slightly on his length.

Izzy’s head was thrown back in pleasure as your head bobbed up and down on him. You started touching yourself through your clothes, getting off on Izzy’s pleasure. When you started moaning around his member he couldn’t help cum, the vibrations sent him over the edge. He grabbed you by the back of the head and pulled you down on him as he shot his load down your throat, guttural groans slipping past his lips.

When he was done he let go of you and let you pull away to catch your breath. You wiped your mouth and chin of the drool that had slipped out the corners of your mouth.

Izzy tilted your head up with a finger under your chin. “Did you swallow it all?” He asked with a lazy grin. You smiled up at him and opened your mouth wide to show you had. “Good girl.”

Having lost the bet already there was no point in looking back now. He gestured for you to get up and you did, now standing in front of him. He brought his hand to your waist and guided you to the counter where he could bend you over, lifting your skirt over your ass to give him a perfect view of you.

You were wearing a thin pair of panties and fishnet stockings. Izzy admired you for a moment before gripping the fishnets and snapping the weak threads holding them together, making a bigger opening for him. He pinned your panties to the side and thrust into you, your cunt already soaked.

He waited a moment, taking in how hot you felt wrapped around him, the face he could see you making in the mirror. He started moving, watching your face for a reaction he liked and when he saw one he knew to keep hitting that spot.

Of course it had your mind running miles a minute. The way his tip kissed that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars over and over again. His hold on your hips was tight, sure to leave bruises for you to look back on with fond memories.

Your favourite were the soft grunts and groans you’d hear in your ear. Heavy breaths mixed with the occasional moan. He was watching you in the mirror but you were also watching him as his head rolled back, you’d catch glimpses of his eyes crossing before he shut them tight.

Izzy took a hand off your hip to turn your face towards him so he could kiss you. His tongue slipped past your lips with ease. Your moans fell onto his lips as you came hard around him, slick dripping down between your thighs. The way you clenched around him was the last straw for him and he came again inside of you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him.

“Fuck.” Izzy breathed, kissing you one last time before pulling away and watching his cum ooze out of you. He dropped to his knees and started lapping at your folds.

“Fuck!” You squeaked and tried to push his head away but he didn’t budge. “Izzy! Izzy, s’too much.” You whined. He responded with a harsh slap on your ass, leaving a pink mark. He continued eating you out like his life depended on it, sucking every ounce of your dignity you had as you watched yourself in the mirror. Your face contorting in pleasure, your hips bucking back to meet his face.

He pushed a skilled finger into you, making you cum with only a few pumps as he hit that same special spot every time and sent you over the edge.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” He mumbled as he stood up again behind you, now holding you and resting his head on your shoulder. “Sneaking into my house, getting me into the bathroom, sucking me off when I told you I couldn’t...” He had this smirk as he spoke, it was tired but carried a very needed amount of teasing.

“You could’ve stopped me if you wanted to.” You replied in an equally tired manner, leaning back on him slightly.

“I didn’t want to.” He said firmly, giving your neck a soft kiss.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #guns n roses imagine #izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin gnr #izzy stradlin smut #izzy gnr #gnr #gnr fic #gnr smut #gnr x reader #gnr fanfiction

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gabessquishytum · 15 hours

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I keep seeing all these ideas where Dream is famous and I wanna take it a step farther. With Dream being rockstar famous, and known for his wild temper and deeply chaotic life, he gets approached by a large Hollywood studio to star in a new reality television show. It would be him, his new manager and husband Hob, their teenage sons and a revolving door of friends, neighbors and family. They'll move him out of his posh Soho flat and into a luxury mansion in Beverly Hills. All he needs to do is sign on the dotted line.

Dream obviously thinks it's stupid. After all, he's a pretty private guy and a right asshole at times and he doesn't think he'll make good television. But Hob disagrees. It's been forever since Dream's name was last in the papers and fans are clambering for new content. Besides, they can play up their personalities for the camera and Hob wouldn't just let them run amok in their private life.

So he agrees a bit unwillingly. That is until he finds out how fun it is to lie directly to the camera, make Desire's life hell when they guest star, and ruin production by showing them how satisfied his husband is in every room of the house.

- 🤜 anon

I love the idea of an Endless reality TV show SO MUCH!!! Can you imagine the chaos?! It'd be so brilliant.

Robyn and Orpheus are in their late teens, so old enough to enjoy occasionally popping up in an episode or two - but when filming starts they get to find out exactly how protective their dad (Hob) is over their privacy. Hob has written strict boundaries into the contract with the production company so the cameras literally can't go into certain parts of the mansion, and certainly can't film the boys without at least one guardian being present. Hob would happily take the company to court and sue if they cross any lines. The same rules apply for Delirium, who is also still quite young and occasionally likes to show up in an episode.

Meanwhile Dream is basically just having a great time doing increasingly weird things. He takes baths in oat milk, claiming that its been part of his routine for years. He puts a really terrible fake tattoo on his upper thigh and walks around showing it off like it's real. He does "vocal exercises" with Orpheus as part of his "art" and Orpheus spends the whole time trying not crack up while Dream makes these awful noises.

And of course, who would forget -

Hob, holding a tiny pig: Dream Endless, come to the foyer... I have a little gift for you

Dream: oh my god is that a chicken?!

Plus the amount of times the camera has caught Hob looking thoroughly wrecked... in the kitchen covered in hickies, with his pants down in the pool area, black lipstick smeared all over his face in the bathroom... so many bits of footage have had to be cut because Dream will just drop to his knees wherever and start trying to suck Hob’s dick. He's famous, he can do what he wants!

The show is, of course, a hit. Much to Desire's chagrin. Although they are secretly hoping to get a spinoff show out of this - hopefully one where they get to slap the smug smile off Dream’s annoying face...

#🤜 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 days

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Where do we go from here - Part 1

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2764

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

Empty.

That’s how you felt. Empty and utterly exhausted. Your eyes were dried and throat scratchy from all the crying, body aching with pain and mind a foggy haze. Forty eight hours it had been since you received the news of the car crash.

James Rhodes. Your husband. Dead.

Pepper Potts. Your best friend. Dead.

You received a call from the hospital while you were wrapping James’ birthday present. A birthday that never arrived. Instead a funeral did. Two consecutive ones. You hadn’t felt grief like this ever.

The service ended, you shook hands and hugged countless people, nodding along as they offered condolences, wanting nothing more than to head home, crash in your bed and never wake up. But you couldn’t. There was another funeral you had to attend, your best friend Pepper’s, you didn’t know if you could go through it all again.

But you had to.

A couple of moments later, you managed to slip away and found yourself sitting on a bench overlooking the graves. The day was actually sunny and bright, wildflowers littered along the gravestones as a gentle breeze blew. What a day for a funeral, you thought sadly.

Not long after you sat, you smelled cigarette smoke in the air before Tony Stark took a seat next to you. Tony was one of your closest family friends, well, he was your husband’s best friend. They practically grew up together, went to school, university and eventually ended up buying houses close to each other too. By way of default, when Pepper and him got married, it brought the four of you closer. She was your best friend and James was his.

It was perfect.

Your mind went back to the last dinner the four of you had at your place, it was only three days ago. Just a day before the accident.

“Here’s to celebrating milestones in friendships!”

James raised his whiskey glass, making you, Tony and Pepper follow suit before you clinked them together with warm smiles. You had cooked a nice dinner to celebrate a year of moving into this home you shared with your loving husband. It may as well have been just an excuse to get together with your friends, which happened too often.

“Thank you for dinner, Y/N. It was delicious. And the blueberry pie too! It is Tony’s favorite.” Pepper announced, making you smile at her husband who returned it, albeit reluctantly. There was something about the way he looked at you, it made you nervous, not in a bad way, per se. It was like he could stare into soul.

“It’s Y/N’s favorite as well.” James chimed in, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

While you cleaned up in the kitchen, Pepper coaxed James to let her take the new SUV out for a spin. She had been trying to persuade Tony to get the same model but apparently he wasn’t too keen on letting his Audi R8 go.

“You think I could sneak in an extra piece of pie?” Tony’s voice took you by surprise as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh! I thought you went along with James and Pep?”

“I mean it was either a piece of pie or Pepper yapping my ear off about how my R8 isn’t exactly ‘fit to be a family car’.” he shrugged, making you chuckle as you took out the remaining pie from the fridge and cut him another slice.

You were suddenly aware of your heartbeat as Tony leaned over to grab the plate from you, the close proximity unfamiliarly welcoming. His fingers grazed over yours ever so lightly, leaving their presence to linger.

What was even going on?

Tony was a good-looking man, there wasn’t a question. He had a handsome face with an impeccably maintained beard that only seemed to suit him best. And his eyes. A light brew of your favorite coffee, the brown doe eyes held as much kindness as they held self assurance. Deep down, you felt an attraction towards the man. It was harmless, wasn’t it?

Only time would tell.

“Y/N?” Tony’s fingers snapped you back to reality, making you realize he had asked you a question.

“Yeah?”

“You went into one of your zones again, didn’t you?” He smiled, taking a bite of the pie and letting out a moan of delight.

“Sorry. One of my zones?”

“Yeah. Your mind tends to wander off when the conversation isn’t interesting for you. I’ve observed.” He wasn’t wrong. The fact that he noticed and pointed it out made your cheeks flush.

“Sorry about that. It’s nothing really. I was just thinking about the time we first got together. I—I mean the four of us.”

“Right. It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“It was at one of your famous parties. I walked in looking to have a good time, you and I had one too many whiskies and the next thing I know Pepper dragged you back to your house and James ended up dropping me home. And the rest is history.”

“The rest is history.” Tony repeated with a small chuckle as memories of that evening played out in his head.

“Sometimes I wonder if…um. Nevermind.” He shrugged, cutting his sentence short leaving you to frown.

“If what? Go on.”

You saw him take in a deep breath, release it slowly before facing you fully after he kept the plate away.

“I wonder if the whole opposites attract thing truly worked out for us. Or we just settled because it was obvious.”

Tony’s words stuck with you long after that night was over. As did the look he gave you. It had longing and hints of regret. Something that reflected in your eyes as well.

You must’ve been crying again because Tony reached out to wipe tears that had escaped, offering you a cigarette which you accepted, filling your lungs with smoke and closing your eyes.

“You know, I spent half of yesterday just staring at my bottle of sleeping pills, wondering if it would hurt less if I just took them.” you murmured, staring into the distance. The void inside your chest seemed perpetual and only growing, there was no relief, no end to this pain.

Tony remained silent, he probably had the same thoughts running through his mind. But you couldn’t tell. He slid closer, placing his arm over the backrest of the bench.

“I need to speak to you about the accident, Y/N. I found out some things that you have the right to know too.” his brown eyes bore into yours, letting you know the urgency in his voice.

“Tell me now.” Shaking his head, Tony stubbed his cigarette and got up.

“Tomorrow. Come home and we’ll talk.”

“But it’s Pepper’s funeral–”

“I couldn’t care less. Trust me. Tomorrow.”

You were taken aback, watching him walk towards his car before driving off while you sat on the bench, a mess of complex emotions.

Your right foot was bouncing against the sofa as you waited for Tony, his house felt oddly quiet and dark now that Pepper was no longer around. Safe to say your own home wasn’t exactly in the best condition either. You couldn’t remember the last time you cleaned, or had a proper meal.

He returned with a familiar looking overnight bag, some papers and a phone. As he laid them out in front of you, a pit began forming in your stomach. This couldn’t be what you were thinking it could be. It couldn’t.

“This is what they recovered from the accident. The bag was in the trunk, the phone was found a few feet away and this.”

He handed you the papers first, it looked like a confirmation of a hotel booking, a hotel located just on the outskirts of the town. It was booked under James Rhodes. Why would he check into a hotel when he was supposed to be out of town for a conference?

“I don’t understand..” you trailed off, not really wanting to know the details but Tony handed you the phone next. What you read, broke your heart into a million pieces. The doubts that you tried to push down resurfaced and had materialized right in front of your eyes.

They were chats. Chats between Pepper and James. Your husband and Tony’s wife.

Your eyes burned but no tears came, you felt betrayed, hurt and angry like you hadn’t ever. It was months and months of private conversations between them, you hadn’t even noticed Pepper’s name saved with a heart emoji on James’s phone, right below was your last message to him, checking up on him to see if he reached safely.

You turned to look at Tony who sat with his arms crossed, jaw ticking and hands balled up against his sides. He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head before getting up to stand in front of the window that overlooked their huge backyard.

“Why didn’t–um, why didn’t the cops bring this to me?” you found your voice again but barely recognized it. It was hoarse from lack of use and weak, fearful of what you’d hear next.

“I asked them not to,” he replied quietly.

“Why?”

“Why? Seriously? You think you would’ve handled it well, Y/N? Given the things you said to me, I would be arranging for a third funeral right about now!” Tony didn’t mean to tell, but he did, because he shared your hurt and pain. He immediately regretted it watching you crumble on the floor, clutching the phone to your chest as you sobbed.

Dropping on his knees, he gathered you in his arms and let you cry, your tears soaked his shirt as you wept, body racking in pain while he held you. Your breath was still uneven but your tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a million questions.

“It had been going on for longer than a year, Y/N.” as if reading your mind, Tony mumbled, his voice muffled against your hair.

“I don’t want to believe it, Tony.”

He hugged you tighter, providing you the comfort you needed, wanted even, his presence grounded you, his scent calmed you.

“You’re staying here.” he declared once you separated, wiping tears from your cheeks and making you look up at him.

“I–I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you’re going to. You’re hurting, Y/N. We both are. I don’t think I could live with myself with you gone as well. I can’t.” Tony whispered, resting his forehead against yours, pleading you to stay.

He was right. You couldn’t bear the thought of returning to that house which you shared with James, your husband, also the man who had been cheating on you with your best friend for months. Given a choice, you would probably set it on fire to bury all the memories and destroy them. It wasn’t your happy home anymore.

“Will you stay?”

You nodded as he helped you back up, walking you up the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

“Wait, I can’t stay in the–”

“The guest bedroom is on your left. I’ve been sleeping there. I’ll take the other one. I can’t sleep in our bedroom either.” Tony’s lips were pressed in a thin line, fingers trembling before he hid them in his pockets.

Of course. It was hard for him too. You wondered if he had the same thoughts of burning the house down. You two were in the same boat, one that was drowning in a sea of sorrow, betrayal and tainted memories.

And now all you had was each other.

Moonlight streamed through the windows as you lay awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, sleep had evaded you. Checking the clock, it stated it was way past midnight, you turned to your side to attempt a small nap if your mind allowed; however a dull crash fell on your ears from downstairs, making you jump out of bed and scramble to the source.

It was Tony.

Eyes brimmed with tears, a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting atop the kitchen counter and shards of broken glass on the floor. As you stepped closer, you saw a broken picture frame as well, one that housed Tony and Pepper’s wedding day photo, both wide eyed and grinning ear to ear, now with a huge crack along the surface.

“Tony?” you treaded carefully, your voice barely over a whisper as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

His tense muscles relaxed under your touch, a sigh leaving his lips.

“She took a pregnancy test, Y/N.” he murmured so quietly you almost missed it. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard him. You knew Tony and Pep had been trying for a kid for a while now, Tony wanted a child more than anything.

“Oh my God.” You croaked, rubbing his back in attempts to comfort him as you saw his eyes brimming with unshed tears, your heart breaking for him.

“Now I can’t even know if it was mine. She was fucking pregnant!” He smashed the glass of whiskey on the opposite wall, the two of you watching the liquid stream down in little rivulets, joining the shattered glass.

Tony’s breaths were coming in erratic and shallow, his eyes unfocused, he was struggling to stand upright.

“Tony hey! Look at me, come on. Let’s get you over here.” You supported him until he was sitting on the barstool while you took a seat opposite him. Bringing your hands up to cup his face, you made him look into your eyes.

“Breathe for me, please. It’s okay.”

You sounded unsure but you hoped it was helping him, he was trying his level best to focus on your words but it was hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, all other voices drowning as sweat lined on his forehead.

“Tony. Come on. I know you can do this. Focus. Just breathe.” You placed one of his hands on your chest, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, waiting for him to follow.

It took a few beats but eventually you succeeded in getting him back to normal. He squeezed your hand gratefully, nodding his head to let you know he was alright. You grabbed him a water before pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, neither of you bothering to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

You sat together in silence, pondering over what your lives had become in a span of a week. The alcohol definitely helped, numbed your pain and made you drowsy.

The sun was starting to rise outside, a dull, gray light filtering through the windows letting you know it was dawn. The word exhausted seemed to be synonymous with your daily routine, it was all you ever felt. You took your empty glass and were heading for the sink when Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” The uncertainty in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings.

“Just to keep this. Tony, I’m right here.” You reassured the man who followed you into the kitchen, as if to make sure you wouldn’t disappear all of a sudden.

“Will you leave me?” He whispered shakily.

This wasn’t a side of Tony you had ever seen. You were used to the confident, sassy man who joked around and made you laugh.

“I can’t deal with the pain alone. Stay. Please. You’re all I have, Y/N.”

There wasn’t a muscle in your body that protested, not that you wanted to anyways. Laying his head against your chest, he hugged you, holding onto you with all his might.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll stay as long as you need.”

“You will?”

He felt you nod as your fingers carded through his hair, calming his nerves and reassuring him of your presence. He didn’t know how long it would take for you both to recover, but as long as you were with him and he with you, he felt some semblance of hope. That eventually everything could be okay.

“Of course. You’re all I have too.”

#fandom free bingo #tony stark x reader #tony stark angst #tony stark x pepper potts #james rhodes x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot #james rhodes #pepper potts #the stark squad #mostly marvel musings #marvel fanfiction #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you

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silenzahra · 3 days

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Luigi the Bookworm 📚✨

Today, April 23rd, we celebrate Book Day in Spain with a beautiful tradition: gifting books and roses. In the past few months, I've started to see Luigi, my favorite Mario character, as a bookworm, thanks to some art pieces like this one, by Mikis_art94 on Instagram, and this one, a short comic by Sarahsketckesluigi, also on Instagram.

And, since I'm also a bookworm myself, I thought of celebrating this day by sharing with you my own take on Luigi's bookish side 🤭 Warning: this is gonna be LONG, so make sure to grab some drinks and snacks and make yourselves comfortable! 💖

(Also, I may go and turn some of these into actual fanfics at some point because, well... I got myself inspired 👀🤭✨)

Please go and check this amazing post by @itsavee4117! It's a companion to this one and you can see many of my headcanons illustrated in his lovely art style!!! 📚💖

@bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @nuctoria @keakruiser

@pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @roscolate and anyone else who might be interested: I hope you enjoy! Happy Book Day! 📚🥀✨

Part 1: Luigi's Bookish Side

Luigi is a person who tends to get excited easily, and when he does, he experiences those feelings with great intensity. This applies to all aspects of his life, and reading, one of his greatest passions, is no exception.

In terms of genres, Luigi is generally open to read anything. He enjoys realistic novels, historical novels, classic novels, mystery novels, sci-fi novels... And he also reads books about gardening, cooking, baking and mechanics from time to time. The only things he’s unable to consume are thrillers and horror. He's tried, but, with all the times he's had to face King Boo, he's had more than enough terror and frights to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.

His favorite genres are fantasy and romance. The former, because traveling to made-up worlds allows him to forget about his real-life problems and offers him an escape from his daily life, which can often be exhausting. The second, because he’s a complete romantic who loves to see people loving each other and living happily ever after. And also... because of something that has to do with Daisy.

Luigi lives every book he reads with the same intensity. For him, it's as if the characters really existed, as if they were his friends, people he can talk to, share common interests with, and also help to achieve their purposes in life (i.e. in the books they’re from).

And maybe... just maybe... he's fallen in love more than once while reading and now he has a loooong list of literary crushes thet only keeps growing.

So, when he’s reading, Luigi laughs with the characters, cries when one of them suffers or dies, his heart tearing in his chest, and is deeply moved every time a tender moment occurs, such as a kiss, a hug or a cute scene involving, for example, a baby or an animal.

His favorite stories are those about siblings. Not only because he enjoys reading family stories, but also because, without even thinking about it, he often finds it easy to put himself in the place of the younger sibling. For him, therefore, it’s as if he were reading a story starring himself and his beloved brother Mario, and he loves to imagine that they’re going on adventures together in an unknown world. Almost like when they first arrived in the Mushroom Kingdom.

Over the years, Luigi has gathered quite a collection of books, so Mario, the moment they move into the little house in the Mushroom Kingdom that Peach offered them, doesn't hesitate to suggest to his brother that he use the extra room to build himself a small library. Luigi is not too sure at first, thinking that maybe his brother would like to have an office, but Mario insists.

So Luigi has a small library in his new home, which he soon fills to the top with books, and it’s his pride and joy. He and Mario assembled the bookshelves together, which they brought all the way from Brooklyn, and now Luigi has a wonderful reading nook where he can isolate himself to let his imagination run wild for hours. It is, along with the bedroom he shares with Mario, his favorite room in the whole house.

For Luigi, reading is something so important, meaningful and almost sacred in his life, that he has a whole ritual that he performs every time he sits down to read. He has a rocking chair in his small library, a present from his brother when they moved to live in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he has it placed right next to the window and in front of the fireplace. He likes to be able to see the sky when he looks up from his reading, and he usually stares at the clouds or the stars while he daydreams about or reflects on what he has just read. During the summer, he usually keeps it open, as he loves to read in natural light while the gentle breeze from Peach's land cools him, and in winter he keeps it firmly closed while the fireplace warms him.

Luigi loves to light a scented candle to help him get in the perfect mood for reading. His favorite scent is vanilla, as it reminds him of his favorite princess, but he also loves lavender and cinnamon. He usually makes himself a hot drink, sometimes tea, sometimes chocolate, and brings a nice blanket to warm up, which is why his favorite time to read is the coldest time of the year, especially autumn. He also prepares his set of post-its to mark his favorite sentences and parts of the book, and he has a ritual for colors too: yellow for funny moments, blue for sentences that make him reflect on them, red or pink for romantic scenes…

Luigi knows that there are many people who write directly in their books, but, for him, that is unthinkable. He sees books as a valuable and precious object, a repository of stories that helps him disconnect from reality and let his imagination run wild. He respects what everyone does with their books, but he’s simply incapable. Especially if it’s a book he has been given as a gift.

His favorite copies are hardcover, even more so if they include a dust jacket. He treasures all his books with the same affection, but those are undoubtedly his weak point. The most precious of all is a hardcover, dust-jacketed edition of his favorite book, which was a present from Mario, and which also has painted edges.

Usually, when it's time to read, Mario is either napping, spending quality time with Peach, or doing something else around the house. Polterpup, on the other hand, takes the opportunity to approach his owner and, if it's summer, lie at his feet while he reads. If it's winter, however, Polterpup will jump into Luigi's lap without his permission and cuddle up and fall asleep immediately, before Luigi even has time to recover from the fright and resume reading. (Check out @pepperycar's funny addition to this!)

Luigi is a speed reader. Usually, when he starts reading, he doesn't intend to go too fast. It's just that, after so many years reading, his eyes have acquired an astonishing speed, and he’s able to retain every word in his head despite going through them very quickly. Also, if a book really hooks him, he’s unable to put it down until he finishes it, which has caused him to stay up late several nights and go to work half asleep the next day, but it's always totally worth it. Because of this ability, he can finish books of about 300-400 pages in just a few hours, and sometimes also 500 if he gets caught up completely.

Luigi LOVES to buy books. His favorite visits are to Sarasaland and the bookstore, and he also does a lot of online shopping to support small publishers. Every time a new book comes home, he gets excited as if it's the first time, and always asks Mario to please record him while he's unboxing it. Mario unhesitatingly stands on the other side of the camera and makes sure that every shot is perfect and that the book looks great, and Luigi, delighted and grateful, always gives him the tightest and most spontaneous hugs every time they finish filming.

And, of course, once he has the book in his hands, Luigi squeals and kicks, excited, as he waves it in the air like maracas before hugging it tightly to his chest. And, when the book is a present from someone dear to him, he acts exactly the same, only he ends up crying and thanking again and again the person who gave it to him while, again, he presses the book against himself as if his life depended on it.

Luigi is VERY much a fan of merchandising. He loves collecting bookmarks, he has such a huge collection that he's had to divide it into several drawers, and every time he’s going to start a new reading, he tends to spend more time deciding which bookmark will be the most suitable than choosing the book itself. He’s also bought a few literary stickers and some printed works of his favorite books, like fanarts of different scenes or characters illustrated by various artists, which he's hung on a corkboard. And, of course, since his books are the most precious thing he has, he’s also bought many literary covers from different small artists' stores, so that he can keep his books well protected when he carries them around.

Luigi is the kind of person who takes a book with him everywhere. A doctor's appointment? Book in backpack in case the wait gets longer. Public transport? He can't think of a better way to spend it than reading. He even takes them with him when he meets up with Mario, Peach and Toad, just in case his brother and the princess get lovey-dovey, and Toad falls asleep. And, if there's one thing Luigi likes better than sleeping in nature, it's reading in nature.

Part 2: The Reader Brother

Luigi has loved reading since he was very young. When he and Mario were babies, their parents used to tell them a bedtime story, sometimes Pio, sometimes Mia, and Luigi always listened very attentively. He would gawk listening to them and loved how they used to put voices and even recreate some scenes to make them laugh.

Mario also listened very interested, but being a more energetic baby, he used to fall asleep about halfway through the story, with his head resting on Luigi's shoulder and his arm firmly around his brother's waist. Their parents would drool, but they had to continue, for Luigi, even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open, wasn’t going to go to sleep without knowing the ending.

Only then, with a satisfied smile, he would hug his brother back, curl up next to him, close his eyes, and put his thumb in his mouth to get ready for sleep. By then, Mario was completely asleep, clinging to Luigi like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, and their parents had to make great efforts not to melt as they tucked them in and kissed them goodnight.

Since then, both brothers have grown up being great lovers of stories, only that, while Luigi loves books, Mario prefers to consume them in movies or video games. Even so, these are all hobbies that the brothers share, as they love to immerse themselves in a good story that helps them escape from reality for a while.

When Luigi gets emotional about a book he’s reading or has just read, Mario immediately comes to his side to hug and comfort him. He knows that, even if it's fiction, his brother has lived through it all in such a way that his feelings, of sadness, joy or emptiness at having finished a great story, are real and intense. And Mario would never judge him for it.

Luigi is deeply grateful not only that his brother comforts him, but that he listens to him talk endlessly about what has just happened in the book he’s reading, and even catches his emotions. Mario may not cry, but he feels his brother's sadness as if it were his own. Fortunately, the same thing happens when Luigi is happy or excited because of a book, and even on the few occasions when Luigi has gotten angry with a character, Mario has giggled under his breath before calming him down, because he finds it extremely tender.

Luigi usually goes to the bookstore at least once a week, and Mario, since they were teenagers, has almost always accompanied him. The only exceptions were when Mario was dating Pauline, and Luigi had no problem paying his weekly visit to the bookstore by himself, but, deep down, he missed Mario.

His brother also loves to accompany him, because, despite not being as much of a reader as Luigi, he enjoys watching him go back and forth from one shelf to another, pointing out the books he’s already read and the ones he wants to read. Also, when he gets the chance to buy a new one, Mario is amused to see Luigi picking up one book after another and trying to load them all and then deciding which one to take home.

Of course, Mario immediately offers to help him carry the books so that Luigi can keep picking up more if he wants to, and Luigi appreciates it from the bottom of his heart. And also that, again, Mario listens to him chatting incessantly about why each book has caught his attention and why he has such a hard time making up his mind.

Mario always tries to guide him in the best possible way: "What do you feel like reading more right now?" "Is it part of a series or is it a standalone?" "Is the sequel already out or would you have to wait?" "Did you like this or that author better?"

And Luigi thanks him deeply for his advice and questions because, that way, he manages to discern which book he really wants to buy that time.

The best way to surprise Luigi, the best birthday and Christmas present, will always be a book. Mario knows this, and that's why he doesn't hesitate to ask his brother to show him his long and endless lists of books he wants to purchase, as well as discreetly taking notes every time he goes to the bookstore with him. Luigi cherishes every book his brother has gifted him like the priceless treasures they are to him.

Sometimes Luigi runs into space problems. Even though his bookshelf is large and spacious, there’s a limit to everything. In those moments when he’s overwhelmed because he doesn't know where to place his new acquisitions, Mario always comes to the rescue: he immediately offers to hang a new shelf on the wall, or to look for another bookshelf to place in some free space in the room, or, directly, he stares at Luigi's shelf with a frown and his hand on his chin for a few moments, before taking the new books from his brother's arms and, displaying his skills playing Tetris, manages to find room to place them.

He loves to do it not only because he enjoys applying in real life what he has learned playing video games, but above all because of the relieved smile that blooms on Luigi's lips when he sees that Mario has found the perfect solution.

Luigi loves going to literary events where he can meet his favorite authors and have his books signed, but he tends to get so nervous that he always gets stuck for words and sweats a lot, which embarrasses him deeply.

The first time, in fact, Luigi was so shocked to have his favorite author in front of him that he fainted. When he woke up in the ambulance, he was so embarrassed that nothing Mario, who, of course, always accompanies him, said succeeded in comforting him.

He only calmed down a bit at home, when, alone with Mario, he began to silently cry without even realizing it, and his brother, not uttering a word, sat down in front of him, worried, and wrapped him gently in his arms. He pressed the back of Luigi's neck softly to make him rest his head on his shoulder and stroked his back gently, his heart aching at each new sob that escaped his brother's throat.

It took him many, many years to convince Luigi to go to an event again, for Luigi feared the same thing would happen to him again. He didn't want to make a fool of himself like that ever again, especially not in front of writers he deeply admires.

So Mario decided that they would practice: he dressed as much as he could like Luigi's favorite author, watched as many videos as he could on the internet to soak up his personality and find out what kind of books they wrote, and pretended to be them again and again, relentlessly, until Luigi, little by little, managed to exchange a few words with him.

It took them many attempts, because, despite knowing it was his brother, Luigi had no trouble getting into the situation due to his overflowing imagination. Mario had to step out of character several times to try to calm him down and help him regulate his breathing.

Luckily, thanks to Mario's efforts, eventually it worked, and Luigi, a few years later, found himself back at an event and able to chat for a few minutes with the writers he read, even though his heart was beating frantically in his chest and excitement was flooding his insides.

He will never be able to thank his brother for his infinite patience, but Mario always plays it down tenderly. He keeps assuring him that it was not patience, but his deep and sincere love for his younger brother and his eagerness to help him fulfill his wishes.

Part 3: Royalty + Luaisy

Ever since the brothers met Princess Peach, she and Luigi have been, little by little, building up a beautiful friendship that grows every day, just like the sweet romantic relationship between her and Mario.

It didn't take long for Peach to discover Luigi's bookish side, and it made her eager and excited, as she has always enjoyed reading and loves to comment on the books she reads in great detail.

So she didn't hesitate to take Luigi to the huge library of her castle, and she smiled, touched, as she saw the amazement with which Luigi observed its towering shelves, turning on himself in the center of the room as he tried to take it all in.

Since then, Peach and Luigi have become reading buddies. The two of them love to immerse themselves in a good story, read together in the castle library while comfortably sipping tea and, of course, comment on what they have just read and exchange views. Luigi even ends up causing Peach to also take a liking to collecting bookmarks and literary merchandising.

They often do joint readings: they discover a book they both feel like reading and set a series of goals to try to read it at the same pace, so they can discuss it as they go along. Sometimes, however, Luigi discovers that Peach hasn't read one of his favorite books, so he doesn't hesitate to read it with her so he can see her reactions, and vice versa. They love to share their anger, their cries and their joys, for it fills their hearts with bliss and emotion that they have someone by their side who understands perfectly well what they’re feeling and why.

They enjoy hearing what this or that scene has made the other feel, or what they think of this or that character, because it helps them to see things from a point of view that, perhaps, they had not considered before. Reading enriches them, but their literary conversations enrich them even more.

And Mario, of course, is delighted that the two most important people in his life have forged such a strong, deep bond and spend so much quality time together, sharing one of their greatest passions. Often, unbeknownst to them, he stands watching them as they read in the library and gets a silly grin on his face when he sees them laughing together after chatting a bit about their readings.

When it comes to Prince Peasley, on the other hand, Luigi is the one who watches him while smiling, mesmerized, as the prince, always so elegant and sophisticated, has an exquisite oratory and knows how to strike the perfect tone every time a character intervenes, and also to confer the right emotion when it comes to the narrator. And Luigi, besides staring at him, enraptured by the fabulousness of his figure, also listens to him spellbound. He would almost say that he enjoys reading more when his beloved prince is the one who narrates, and plays, the stories.

Princess Daisy, due to her energetic nature, is not much prone to reading. She prefers more dynamic activities where she can unleash not only her endless energy, but also her competitive side. Even so, she knows and respects the value of books, having grown up well aware of their importance in safeguarding and protecting the history of her kingdom. (@kelbreyworshipper you may like these ones!)

But when she meets Luigi, she begins to show a slight interest in reading, something that at first was only born so that she could have something to talk to him about. Fortunately, Luigi, despite his initial shyness, doesn't need more than a mention of literature to start talking nonstop about his favorite stories and how much they make him feel. And Daisy, not even realizing it, finds herself listening to him entranced, very attentive to his every word and genuinely understanding why there are people, like Luigi, who find reading so exciting.

Over time, she starts asking him for book recommendations, which he happily obliges, and Daisy discovers that she actually enjoys reading, especially stories with tons of action. Still, what she likes the most about this is Luigi's thrilled and moved expression when he finds out she's actually listened to him, read the book he recommended and, therefore, now they can fangirl together. She falls even harder for him because of the cute little face he makes.

Sensing that her interest in him is growing and that it may be mutual, Daisy decides to invite Luigi to Sarasaland Castle to show him her library. At first she doesn't tell him what she has invited him for, which makes Luigi VERY nervous, as he doesn't know if this is a date or not. She playfully takes him by the hands, leads him to the library doors and asks him to close his eyes. Luigi hesitates a little, unsure, but ends up obeying so as not to disappoint her.

Daisy then opens the library and guides Luigi carefully inside. He almost trips, which makes her laugh, causing him, in turn, to relax a bit. And when she finally tells him to open his eyes, Luigi gasps and his jaw drops, his heart pounding in his chest, not only because that library is even a bit larger than Peach's, but also because, slowly, his mind understands and assimilates that Daisy had prepared this to surprise him.

And even though he’s fascinated by all the books before him, he ends up, without realizing it, looking at Daisy, with a blushing smile on his flushed face and his hands over his heart, while she explains to him that all those volumes belonged to his ancestors and that he has her permission to come whenever he wants to get them. "They're yours!" she says at last, turning to him, and Luigi's heart grows larger at the offer, causing a tear to escape his eyes as the princess, full of tenderness, smiles at him.

Over the next few days, Luigi goes to the library, encouraged by Daisy, who insists again and again that he come to Sarasaland. Her library has a huge ladder to reach the highest shelves, and Daisy uses it without a second thought to glide across the room, to the terrified gaze of Luigi, who dares not even climb the first rung.

As soon as she notices this, Daisy gets down, walks over to Luigi and takes him by the hand to guide him to the ladder. He almost cringes when she places his hand on the wood and freezes when Daisy encourages him to climb up. "It's completely safe!" she assures him. "And, besides, I'll be right here. You can hold my hand as you climb up. I promise I won't slide you down too fast the first time!"

Very slowly and clinging to Daisy's hand, Luigi climbs up the steps. She doesn't let go and keeps repeating phrases to encourage him, which makes Luigi feel almost as safe as when he is with Mario, though in a different way. Once he reaches the top of the first shelf, however, Luigi is unable to climb any higher, so Daisy doesn't pressure him any further. She gently grasps the lower end of the ladder and, after warning him, moves it a little, very slowly as she promised, to make him feel secure.

The next day, however, Daisy goes up right after Luigi and, leaning into the next bookshelf, pushes as hard as she can to propel the ladder to the opposite side at breakneck speed. Her laughter mingles with Luigi’s screams, but however, once they stop, he discovers that, despite his initial panic, he’s had fun with what Daisy has just done.

This then becomes a regular occurrence between them, until it gets to the point where Luigi feels comfortable and confident enough to climb the ladder by himself and propel himself across the library in true “Beauty and the Beast” style.

In the kingdom of Sarasaland there’s a tradition to honor books, as they’re not only a source of entertainment, but also the sacred objects that preserve their history. Daisy has grown up with these values and does not hesitate to tell Luigi about this tradition soon after they start dating.

On Book Day, it is customary for the man to give the woman a rose and the woman to give the man a book. This originated many centuries ago, before everything related to gender and relationships evolved, so nowadays, simply put, the members of a romantic relationship give each other both a book and a rose.

Luigi shows up in Sarasaland on the appointed date very nervously, dressed in a smart green suit, his favorite color, and carrying a wrapped book for Daisy, as well as a purple rose, very rare and hard to come by, which he has grown himself in his garden with Peach's help. Daisy greets him in a lovely purple dress, with a vaporous skirt, matching elbow-length gloves and her delicate shoulders bare. She holds out her gift to him almost before he reaches the castle gates and can recover from the amazement of seeing her so dazzling and beautiful.

He’s delighted when, upon opening it, he discovers that it is one of those special editions he’s been looking for for so long. Only Mario knew he wanted it, so he understands, without needing Daisy to tell him, that his brother has given his girlfriend a hand to surprise him. And that makes his heart fill with love and his eyes with tears, and the book even more precious to him.

Daisy excitedly opens her present and, to Luigi's surprise, squeals when she discovers that he’s gifted her a fantasy adventure novel that caught her eye when he first took her to his favorite Brooklyn bookstore. Daisy drags him into the library, invites him to sit down with some drinks (tea for him, a smoothie for her), and asks him to please start reading.

And so they spend their first Book Day together: settled on Daisy's fluffy library couch, she sat on his lap, the skirt of her purple dress spread over his legs, almost hiding them, and her arms around his neck, depositing light kisses here and there as he struggles to read aloud the book he’s just given her. This was the first time they gave each other a book, but of course it would not be the last, as reading together, visiting the Brooklyn bookstore and Sarasaland and Mushroom Kingdom libraries, and continuing to celebrate Book Day would soon become habit for them.

Daisy often stares at Luigi as he reads, amused by his reactions and the faces he makes, and, when their relationship is more established, she has no qualms about peeping over his shoulder. And Luigi, far from getting angry, what he did the first time and has continued to do ever since is to read aloud, so that she also finds herself immersed in the story without realizing it. (This may sound familiar!)

But what Luigi enjoys the most is that Daisy, whenever the characters in the book share some intimate gesture, instantly replicates it with him. If they hold hands, Daisy immediately reaches for Luigi's hand. If there’s a hug, Daisy wraps her arms around Luigi and holds him tightly, which leaves him breathless, but also makes him laugh and fills his heart with tenderness.

And, of course, if there are kisses, Daisy won't hesitate to start showering Luigi with them. First on his hand, on the tips of his fingers and on his palm. Then on the forehead, with a delicacy that always melts Luigi. His cheeks color every time Daisy places her lips on them, but what drives him absolutely crazy is when she seeks his mouth. It's the only thing that makes him put down the book and postpone reading for another time. (Check out @bberetd's wonderful art for this!)

Often, before they fall asleep, Daisy cuddles up to Luigi in bed, wearing his green shirt, and buries her face in the crook of his neck. Luigi absentmindedly begins to fiddle with her hair, delighted to have her so close, and, with his other hand, reaches for his book to read aloud a few more pages before they fall asleep. It's part of their routine and they both love sharing stories that way.

Part 4: The gang

The visit to the bookstore and libraries has now become a regular occurrence for everyone. As soon as he started talking about books with Peach and she showed him her library, Luigi immediately invited her to come with him and Mario the next time they went to their regular Brooklyn bookstore, and she gladly accepted.

On that first visit by the princess, Peach was as thrilled as Luigi and the two of them went back and forth in the bookstore, she eagerly looking at everything, he endlessly talking about the store and the many books he’s bought there. Soon they found themselves going often to acquire new books, not without first spending a good while in the place accumulating stories in their arms to, again, decide in the end.

Again Luigi was looking for Mario, who, unconsciously, had been staring at them with an amused smile and his eyes full of affection. Blushing, Mario would hurry to come to his side to help him, and Luigi, even though he’d caught him gazing at the princess in rapt attention, wouldn’t comment anything so as not to make him uncomfortable or put any pressure on him.

Many times, however, Peach would intervene and take two of the books Luigi had chosen. That's how she also started giving him books as presents, and Luigi couldn't be more grateful that his beloved friend pampers him that way. Her gesture makes her even more attractive and sweet in the eyes of Mario, who melts at seeing her displaying such adoration towards his beloved little brother.

Daisy, always eager to learn more about the place where her dearest hero in green grew up, also joins in, but, to her surprise, she finds herself next to Mario, fondly watching Peach and Luigi, especially the latter. They, however, are so excited talking about books that they never notice the goofy smiles with which Daisy and Mario look at them, delighted to see their two favorite people indulging in their greatest passion.

Despite this, both Mario and Daisy make sure to pay attention to the books that Luigi and Peach point out with the intention of acquiring them in the future, and then make plans with each other to decide which ones to give them on future birthdays, Christmases and, of course, regular days. Any time is a good time to surprise their favorite people with a new literary gift.

Sometimes, on their dates, Luigi and Daisy also go to the bookstore, and she, as always, listens to him talk very attentively. When it comes to advising him on which book to acquire, however, she’s much more practical: she thinks Luigi should pick the book he wants to read the most… or the one with the most romance in it.

And Luigi blushes violently because he perfectly understands the implications of such a suggestion.

Literary events also end up being a regular thing they all do together. Luigi, thanks to Mario, already manages to control his nerves and chat a bit with the authors when they sign his books. Peach, of course, is all sweetness and always tells them how much their stories have made her feel and dream. Mario just smiles and listens, delighted to be able to accompany them and to see them enjoying themselves so much, right up their alley. He always takes pictures of them with the authors, both together and separately, something he already did when it was just him and Luigi.

Daisy, on the other hand, is so spontaneous and genuine that she doesn't hold back when it comes to treating the writers with too much familiarity, which only embarrasses the others, especially Luigi. If it's the author of a romance book, Daisy doesn't hesitate to cheerfully tell them how much she and her boyfriend enjoyed the sensual and intimate scenes, or that she lost count of how many times she kissed her sweetie during the reading because of the sheer number of times the characters kissed.

In those moments, Luigi can only think of crawling under a rock. He has to resort to all the training with Mario to manage to keep his composure and not faint again or run away to hide so no one sees him turning red as a tomato.

However, then Daisy intertwines her arm with his and kisses him on the cheek, and he feels that his blush, this time, is due to being close to her and to her tokens of affection. After all, Luigi adores everything about his princess, all her sides and her personality, and besides, to other authors, fortunately, Daisy tells them how much fun she and her boyfriend had with their novel, and Luigi can only adore her.

At these events, both Mario and Daisy go out of their way to get lots of bookmarks and merch for Luigi and Peach, as they know they both love to collect stuff related to their favorite books. And also, again, they take mental notes of all the books they can buy as future presents for them.

From time to time, Toad and Peasley also join in on their visits to the bookstore, libraries or events. Toad is a big fan of fantasy and adventure comics, as they nurture his enthusiastic and adventurous spirit, and Peasley loves to talk endlessly with his favorite authors about the various subjects they cover in their books, thus unconsciously displaying, once again, his impeccable eloquence.

I really hope you liked this! I had a blast writing all of this and imagining my favorite characters in the many situations I've experienced myself as a bookworm, as well as adding others I came up with 🥰

Plase feel free to add your comments and feedback, and also headcanons if you have a few of your own! And if by any chance this inspires you to create your own stuff, I'd be more than honored 😭 All I ask is to please give credit! 🙏💖

Before I leave, please remember to check @itsavee4117's blog today! You won't regret it 🤩📚✨

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