#you can’t change your mind at the last fucking minute and then be upset when i tell you that

[wqnwoos]

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (vocal unit ver.)

hhu ver. — requested by anon

JEONGHAN.

he’s so soft :(

like immediately scoops u up

talks to you very gently while he holds you,, about literally ANYTHING

jeonghan doesn’t notice how close you’ve sidled up to him until you tug on his shirt a little. he’s been wrapped up in conversation with mingyu, riling him up with friendly teasing and laughing as mingyu pouts defensively.

at least, until you appear out of nowhere, brushing your arm against his and sending him glances from the side of your eyes; he can tell you think he hasn’t noticed, but he definitely has. he always notices, especially when it’s you.

which is how he ends up cutting off his teasing, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer, resting a hand on your thigh and murmuring a quick “you okay?” in your ear. and it’s only when you nod, satisfied, that he returns to the conversation.

JOSHUA.

i feel like he intuitively knows when u need him

hand holder for SURE have u guys seen the recent gose 😭

probably rubs your back or something too :((

“joshua, we are going to get lost.” you pronounce the moment you see the bustling crowds of the carnival in front of you.

your boyfriend scoffs lightly. “come onnn. we’ll be fine.”

“hello? are you seeing this?” with a wide sweep of your arm, you gesture to the horde with wide eyes, unconsciously pressing closer to him already.

“don’t worry, baby. we won’t get separated.” joshua reassures, and then pauses, before dramatically announcing — “ever.”

you blink at him under the coloured lights and merry-go-round music. “i can’t tell if that was heartwarming or incredibly cheesy.”

“both?” he suggests with a smirk, before holding his hand out to you. “come on.”

“josh, don’t let go of me, okay?” you say nervously, as you approach the crowds.

he brushes a kiss over your joined hands with half a smile. “never.”

WOOZI.

omg. soooo flustered but equally as pleased

also have you seen those arms?

he’s an excellent hugger nobody can change my mind

jihoon can tell there’s something on your mind. you keep looking over at him from your place on the couch as he works, sometimes opening your mouth like you’re about to say something but then changing your mind last minute. and when it happens for the seventh time — yes, he counted — he finally turns to you, sliding off his headphones with raised eyebrows.

“can i help you?” he asks, teasing lilt to his tone.

you’re already looking at him with widened eyes. jihoon cocks his head to the side — when you pull out the puppy gaze, it means you want something. unfortunately for him, he gives in every time.

(how can he help it, when you look like that?)

“hug?” you say hopefully, voice pitched a little higher than usual.

he should have guessed. jihoon opens his arms with a mock sigh, gesturing for you to come and sit on his lap — ignoring both your satisfied smile and his warmed cheeks.

DOKYEOM.

his smile itself feels like a fucking hug so. idek where to start. this man is a safety net :(

HES SO WARM i feel like he gives the best cuddles

loops his arms all the way around you and squeezes to make you laugh too

“seokmin~! i need a hug!” you declare, the moment you step into the house. you might say it dramatically, but you mean it entirely — today has sucked ass. “i demand it, even!”

at your greeting, seokmin sticks his head out the kitchen, lips already curved into a gentle smile. “what happened, angel?” he soothes, opening his arms and entangling you in his embrace.

“bad day. awful.” you describe shortly, already leaning into him gratefully. “less talking. more hugging.”

“yes, boss!” he mock salutes over your shoulder, giggling as he tightens his grip, and with the sound of his laughter, the burdens of today seem to fall away — at least for a short while, you’ve found your reprieve.

SEUNGKWAN.

he will drop anything and everything to give you what you need and that makes me UPSET

always goes into full caretaker mode AHHH i love him

probably sways you guys back and forth when you hug

seungkwan takes one look at your sleepy form in his doorway, and he freaks.

by freaks, you mean he pulls you inside, kisses your cheek in greeting, and scolds you for not wrapping up warm enough, all in the space of a minute. and then he’s cupping your face with warm hands. “what happened, baby? you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

you scrunch your nose sleepily. “sorry. i missed you.”

“aish, don’t apologise, just come here,” he grumbles, to hide the embarrassingly delighted smile growing across his face.

“warm,” you say drowsily, as you lean into his embrace with droopy eyes and slightly slurred words. “best hugger. you’re the best hugger, seungkwannie, you know that? you’re my favourite hugger.”

he kisses your forehead then, with a soft murmur against your skin. “yeah, baby. you’re my favourite too.”

an requested by an anon who read the hhu version!! i hope you like it @ anon, let me know!! 💗💗💗

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen headcanons #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan comfort #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua comfort #jihoon fluff #jihoon comfort #jihoon x reader #woozi fluff #woozi comfort #woozi x reader #seokmin x reader #seokmin fluff #seokmin comfort #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader #dk fluff #dk comfort #dk x reader

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 9/12)

HIIII HERE SHE IS!! i hope u enjoyyyy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you have questions and eddie needs to get something off of his chest

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, sexual themes, angst, feelings feelings feelings, and eddie going through a crisis <3

word count: 5.1k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie’s gonna be sick.

There’s a sweet smell of pancakes and coffee wafting through the air and a dizzying chatter dancing amongst the table, and Eddie’s going to be sick.

He’s not sure why because all he’s had was a cup of throat coat, half a French toast, and a cigarette, but he has a feeling it has something to do with the empty chair across from him. Or maybe it’s the guilt that’s been churning in his gut since the moment he stepped out of your room last night. Or maybe it’s the realization of the truth that Eddie was forced to admit when Richie found him at the studio early this morning.

Eddie’s not sure who told Richie or how much of the story Richie knows, but Eddie hates feeling like this— feeling out of control. It’s a sick feeling Eddie had been used to when growing up, but now that he’s older and has his career and money, Eddie does everything in his power to never get into situations like this— and nine times out of ten, these situations only come with things like the press.

And it’s upsetting— the way this has spun out— because Eddie knew this would be the result, and he was so desperate to avoid it in the beginning, but he’s not sure when that persistence vanished. Somewhere along the line, you managed to find the split in Eddie. The part that needed fixing the most. Eddie’s not sure where that split is, but he feels it, and the change— you— has seeped too deep into his skin to dig out, and Eddie is panicking.

He’s been panicking since yesterday— since he fucking pulled out of you, and you looked at him like he was the only person you’ve ever really seen. Like you were seeing him in color for the first time.

He couldn’t think because all that tossed around in his mind was you.

He couldn’t speak because all that would form on his tongue was your name.

He couldn’t breathe because all he would inhale and exhale was your scent.

He was drowning in you yesterday. Sinking like a stone, quicker than he’d ever intended to— because, believe it or not, Eddie was ready to take the plunge. 

He was ready to try and figure out his path of redemption from being the asshole you (rightfully so) hate to someone you could maybe forgive and tolerate. The first step to that was supposed to be the song from the show, but fucking James ruined that. 

It was all fucked. Everything was fucked. The way Eddie was going to apologize was flipped upside down, and you both moved too quick, and now Eddie’s in way over his head— because jesus christ, Richie grilled the shit out of him this morning.

Eddie’s going to be sick.

“Anyone know what’s up with Rich this morning?” One of the crew members asks. Jeff shrugs, tossing a grape into his mouth, “Beats me. He’s always upset about something, though.”

Eddie tries to muster through the rest of breakfast, but when Richie comes back into the room without you in tow, Eddie decides he can’t sit here a moment longer with that empty chair staring at him.

Although Eddie practically begs Richie to let him skip out of the group interview, he still finds himself walking down the hall of the hotel. The interview is being held in Richie’s suite and was originally planned to be a few days after the residency was over, but a change of plans with photoshoots in LA caused some last-minute alterations to the planned schedule.

Eddie spent the day holed up in a friend's studio. He hasn’t seen you since breakfast, and the day is almost over now, so it’s safe to say the initial shell-shock feeling of the sticky situation he’s tossed you both into has somewhat dissolved. Eddie didn’t record anything at the studio; he only wrote, and the change of scenery, with the added peace away from his friends/bandmates, gave him a more open space to figure his thoughts out. 

So, when Eddie sees you walking out of your room, he immediately knows now is his chance to do what he’s been milling about in his head all day— because when Eddie said sorry and when he spent hours fucking you into your bed to show you just how sorry he was, he meant it— and he needs to tell you that before things get misconstrued as they always do.

You’re not paying attention, too focused on sorting through the questions you’ve prepared for the band, so you’re face is riddled with shock when Eddie places a hand on your shoulder.

“I think we should maybe talk…” 

Eddie’s not sure what he expected you to say, but he sure as hell didn’t expect you to turn to him and nod, “Yeah, I think we should.” Eddie nods as well, taking a breath and opening his mouth to speak, but you’re cutting him off before he can even fully form his thoughts, “Where the fuck have you been?”

And that’s not what Eddie thought you would start with, but it’s better than he expected. “Um—” 

“I’ve been signing papers all fucking day thanks to you,” You stress, “And the only person that has any answers to the millions of questions I have is you, but you’ve been missing in action all fucking day, so what the fuck?” You snap.

Eddie’s face pinches in confusion, “Signing papers? What papers?”

You scoff, sarcastically shrugging, “I don’t know, maybe the fucking NDAs Richie piled onto me, again, because of you,” You’re tone is dripping in irritation, and Eddie only finds your disgruntled look to be cute. “Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m not here to ruin your life, but the last thing I want to do is tell the world all about how I was dumb enough to let you fuck me.”

You don’t exactly care that a cleaning maid is just a few doors down, but Eddie does because this is precisely how shit gets into the press. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters, wrapping a hand around your arm and tugging you off into the small ice room off to the side. “Would you lower your fucking voice?” Eddie grumbles as he presses you into the open space beside the vending machine, creating some sense of secrecy from anyone passing by.

Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance as you glare at Eddie, “Why does it even matter when you’ve been practically screaming it from the rooftops?” You point out. Eddie waves a hand and squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head in dismissal, “I didn’t tell Richie shit.” He argues.

And it’s the truth. Eddie didn’t tell Richie anything— he hasn’t told anyone anything aside from what little to the story Jeff and Gareth know. But they would never say something to Richie about it, right?

You snap Eddie from his train of thought, “Then where did you go last night, Eddie?” You ask.

And well, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to confess that he practically had a panic attack when he realized he likes you— like, really, really likes you. He’s not ready to admit that he spent the night at the studio, scribbling down words and mixing sounds, cutting clips of his voice, and perfecting it until he passed out from exhaustion. He’s not ready to admit that.

Eddie goes silent, gaze dark and filled with hesitance. His jaw ticks, and he replies with a snap, “It doesn’t matter.” He shifts to turn around and leave— because that’s what he does best— but you reach out to wrap a warm hand around his wrist, and Eddie— god, Eddie’s heart skips a few beats.

“If I had to sign a goddamn NDA, the least you can do is tell me where you went.”

And you’re right. God, isn’t this precisely what Eddie was just writing about? 

It’s not difficult, Eddie says to himself. Just tell her you went to the studio— maybe even offer to show her what you were working on.

Eddie thinks he would rather chew bricks.

Before Eddie can fully prepare a response, Gareth pokes his head into the room, glancing between the two of you as you quickly drop Eddie’s hand. Gareth fails to hold back a grin at the scene before him, and Eddie’s shoulders stiffen from the tense situation between you that Gareth fails to catch onto. Gareth points over his shoulder, “Unless you want Richie to start flipping out from wasted time, I suggest you guys head back to the room so we can start.”

“It’s chaotic.”

“Your known sound or the new sound?”

“Both.”

You laugh, shifting in your seat as you twirl your pen between your fingers. Jeff expands on Gareth’s comment, “I would say our past music is chaotic in general, but the newer stuff we have coming is more of an… orchestrated chaos.”

Gareth snorts at Jeff’s answer and mumbles something along the lines of melodrama before Eddie pitches in, “There’s more of a structure to this record. Our past albums have been like… multiple stories in one, and it can be overwhelming, but it’s also exciting because you never know where you’re going next,” Eddie talks with his hands, jewelry clinking with each wave as he glances at you, “And I think this album still has that type of excitement, but it’s more… interconnected. Like there’s bits and pieces of every track within the next one, and it’s just… it’s a fuller experience.” 

It’s beautiful— how Eddie thinks and speaks and forms his thoughts about music. It’s so captivating that you could spend forever listening to him talk about music. Gareth is saying something, but you’re hardly listening because you can feel Eddie’s gaze on you, and it makes every hair on your body stand. 

When you finish writing a note, you clear your throat before glancing back up at the boys as if your heart isn’t beating out of your chest. “In relation to this topic, do any of you have a specific idea or sound you’d like to explore in the future, maybe?”

Jeff hums, “I grew up listening to a ton of Janis Joplin— and shit like Jimi Hendrix— so I've always had a love for that kind of clash between rock and blues. So, maybe something along those lines." It's utterly off-track from what Corroded Coffin sings, but Jeff, you've come to learn, is the most mellow of the group, so you're not as surprised as most would be.

The boys each answer the question, eventually blending into each other to create one extensive conversation. You ask them what they plan to do when they’re old enough to retire. Gareth wants to venture into the art world; unbeknownst to you, he’s had a knack for art since middle school. Jeff wants to do something with producing, and right before Eddie gets the chance to answer, Richie steps in, clearing his throat and reminding you of the time. 

You seem to have lost track of time in your conversation. The boys have a line of press interviews today, but you have more than enough content to complete the article. You thank the boys for giving their time and being compliant, and as you file out of the room, Gareth turns to you, “Are you coming to the dinner tonight?” He asks. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Dinner?”

Jeff steps up beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you all step into the hallway, “Of course, she’s coming to the dinner, dumbass; it’s for the entire crew.” He flicks at Gareth’s shoulder. Gareth bats at Jeff’s hand, “Sorry, I didn’t know if that included journalists.” He bites back with a light shove to Jeff’s shoulder. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know this dinner you’re talking about.” You chip in. Gareth and Jeff glance at each other before Jeff clears his throat, “Uh— Eddie didn’t tell you?”

Of fucking course, it reflects to Eddie. You shake your head, glancing around the hall, only to see that Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Jeff nods, removing his arm from your shoulder and shrugging, “Well, there’s a dinner tonight, and we have some family and friends coming in from Hawkins, so you’re obviously invited regardless of Eddie’s lack of communication skills.” Jeff jokingly concludes. You nod with a small smile, “I’ll most likely be working through this,” You raise your journal, “But I hope all goes well.”

You don’t stick around to see the looks Gareth and Jeff exchange because you’re too busy trying not to be bothered by the fact that Eddie purposely didn’t tell you about the dinner. But then again, can you blame Eddie? You’ve only known each other for a month, and that entire month has been full of mixed feelings, arguments, and selfish kisses. 

Still, you find yourself feeling estranged and saddened— because, despite your complicated relationship, if the roles were reversed, you know you would’ve extended the invitation.

Eddie glances over himself in the mirror for what seems like the millionth time.

It’s stupid, the nerves coursing through his veins, but then again, what Eddie’s about to do could potentially put him on his ass if it goes wrong. Wrong, meaning you say no, curse him out, and tell him to fuck off for the rest of his life. He’d deserve it, sure, but that doesn’t mean it would lessen the sting either way.

There’s a cassette tape in his hand as he walks up to your room, 403, the numbers that seem to be engraved in his mind at this point. He taps the thick band of his ring against the clear case of the tape, teeth digging into his cheek as he knocks on your door.

The silence is deafening as he waits, and Eddie debates if he should just make a run for it before he makes a fool of himself, but then you open the door. And you’re so pretty, and Eddie’s fingers tighten around the tape for a split moment to ground himself because— fuck, what does he say? Why is he here again?

You’re staring at him with a blank gaze, bored and intimidating enough to have Eddie wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Eddie clears his throat and shifts in his spot, “Are you busy?” You blink, glancing down at the tape in his hand before looking back at him. “Why?”

Well, there’s no going back, Eddie thinks. He raises the tape into your view, “I just need an hour. Just one hour so I can explain.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning against the door, and boredly blink, “Explain what?”

Eddie shrugs, heart racing in his chest as he subtly shakes his head, “Everything.”

Eddie didn’t think you would say yes.

Honestly speaking, Eddie thinks you’re slightly insane for saying yes, but he doesn’t take it for granted— because now, Eddie is walking down Barclay St with you right beside him. It’s busy now that everybody’s 9-5 shift has ended, and there’s a slight breeze kicking in as you trek through the sea of people. 

You’re dressed in sneakers, jeans, and a light sweater to keep you warm— and Eddie thinks it’s adorable how the sleeves drape over your hands and how you fuss over it occasionally.

Transit is quicker to where Eddie is taking you, and the subway is always crowded and hectic, so Eddie doesn’t think about it when he grabs your hand as you trot down the subway steps. Your hand is warm and soft beneath his palm, and it feels so natural when you shift your thumb across the back of his hand, trying to keep up with his far strides.

Somebody bumps into you, and Eddie instinctively pulls you closer to him, gazing down at you as he asks if you’re okay. You nod, and Eddie squeezes your hand before continuing on the path to the train.

When you and Eddie get settled on the train, Eddie thinks you might hold onto his hand for the entire ride, but he’s sadly mistaken when you slip from his hold to fold your hands in your lap.

Eddie ignores the pang in his chest.

Eddie has dragged you all the way to Manhattan to stick you in a booth near the back of an old diner called Keens Steakhouse. You’ve never been here, but you’ve heard of it in passing; however, you wish Eddie had told you to wear something nicer instead of this oversized blanket of a sweater you have on.

Eddie is wearing jeans, a shirt, and a leather jacket, so you didn’t think much about what to wear— but that’s Eddie. Eddie Munson, the famous rockstar. Why would he care about the clothes he wears to some diner he’s probably eaten at a million times before?

The diner has dim lighting, but the tables are well-lit with a candle. Your waiter hands you two menus and a bottle before leaving you both to scan over the food items. You don’t bother to open your menu, watching Eddie fill your glasses with a rich wine. Eddie glances at you before clearing his throat, “The chef makes a mean filet mignon, by the way,” He begins as he sets the bottle aside, “And I’m not a big seafood person, but the shrimp is good.”

You say nothing, waiting for Eddie to stop beating around the bush and tell you why he made you trek across the city for wine. He glances at you, faltering for a split moment as he speaks, “We can change tables if you—” You shake your head with a wave of your hand, “It’s not that, Eddie, it’s just—” You huff, “Why are we here? Like, why did you bring me here?”

Eddie shifts in his seat and clears his throat, tapping his finger against the table once before taking a slow breath, “I think… I think it’s best if I explain my side of things before shit spins out of control.” He’s struggling to start, but the words slip from you before you can stop it, “You don’t think it’s too late for that?”

Eddie’s eyes are soft and pleading when he glances at you, pretty lips tucking between his lips as he shrugs, “I was hoping not…”

God, it’s weird seeing Eddie like this— teetering on the edge of vulnerability as he practically begs you to hear him out— if you weren’t so keen on hearing if he has something genuine to say, then you would’ve left a long time ago for the sake of his sanity.

Because you’re selfish and hope to hear something good, you nod, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie fidgets with the rings on his fingers as he begins to speak, “First things first, I just wanna get this out of the way,” He gazes at you, “I didn’t tell Richie anything. If anything, my guess would be someone from the crew told him, but I won’t list off any names.” He waves off.

You know he means James because who else would Eddie be talking about? But even though you strongly feel it wasn’t James, you don’t counteract Eddie’s silent claim. However, you’re not strong enough to hold back a quick roll of your eyes.

“And secondly… about last night.” He falters, and you take a deep breath before shifting in your seat. “It’s fine if you regret it, Eddie. You didn’t need to drag me here to say that; we can just forget it ever happened.”

You’re unsure if that’s what Eddie wanted to say, but you would rather be the first to call it out to save whatever dignity you have left. But Eddie quickly shakes his head, brown eyes wide and soft as he squashes that idea, “No! No, I don’t regret last night at all. I— that’s not why I brought you here.” And Eddie looks at you like he won’t ever get a chance to fix what he destroyed.

A steady exhale and the curling of his fingers into his palm, and you wish you were closer to him, even if he’s done nothing but push you away. You want to feel him. And sure, the flicker of his gaze down to your hand might imply that he wants the same, but you drop your hands to lay in your lap instead of the table, willing him to continue talking.

He clears his throat, “I shouldn’t have left— and honestly, I didn’t even want to leave,” His admission has your head ticking in confusion, “I wanted to stay with you, and I wanted—” He takes a breath, earth soaked eyes locking onto yours, “I left because I knew I didn’t deserve to stay.”

Well fuck, your heart is practically the wings of a hummingbird in your chest. It’s the most open Eddie has ever been with you aside from the time you shared alone in the dressing room, except now you are finally facing the truth of what is unfolding between you. 

Wayne’s words spin in your mind for a split moment, “Eddie doesn’t know what to do with nice… He hasn’t had much of that in his life.”

And you wonder why? What happened to create the beautiful mess sitting before you, waving his torn and stained white flag, calling off his troops to meet you in no man's land? And there’s a vast field behind Eddie that you have yet to discover, and there’s the same behind you, patiently waiting for whoever is willing to take the time and map out the intricate paths and valleys. You selfishly want it to be the man in front of you.

“I don’t know how to treat the people who selflessly care for me. I never got that, and it’s weird and new to me, and I didn’t understand how you could do that for— not just me, but practically everyone you meet. But I want to learn how to.”

It’s dizzying, really. The complete 180 Eddie has seemingly made— and is it wrong for you to hesitate to believe him? Is it wrong that you’re still unsure even though Eddie looks like he wants to practically crawl out of his skin? Because Eddie is so far from home, and it doesn’t even take years of knowing him to see that.

You shift your gaze to the table, sinking further into your seat as you tilt your head, and there’s an echo of how you felt last night that rings in your chest as you ask, “Where did you go, Eddie?”

Eddie is so pretty under candlelight. He’s defined and soft, and his hair looks like a golden mane when it catches the light. His eyes, always big and brown with honey-soaked pools of curiosity, they’re softer than they’ve ever been before. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and tortured with the jagged crowns of his teeth as he silently stresses. 

“I went to the studio.” He finally admits.

And you can’t seem to think of a single reason why Eddie would ever be this nervous to tell you he went to the studio— that’s his job, is it not?

Eddie shifts in his seat to reach into his jacket pocket to pull something out. “I brought you here so I could—” “Excuse me, Mr. Munson.” A waiter interrupts.

Eddie pauses, both of you turning your attention to the pristine man in black. The waiter clasps their hands behind their back, leaning forward as they speak, “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a group up front claiming to be a part of your reservations. I didn’t see any more seats on the list, but they insisted I check with you.”

Eddie shoves whatever is in his hand back into his pocket as he looks over his shoulder, your gaze following his eyes as he curses. You can’t see much from your seat, so you’re riddled with confusion when Eddie grumbles something to himself as he turns back to the waiter, “Yeah, they’re my friends; send them over.”

The waiter nods and walks off as you send a look of confusion towards Eddie, “I thought there was a dinner tonight? Which, speaking of, why aren’t you there?” Eddie freezes at the question, “You know about the dinner?”

You nod, “Jeff and Gareth told me. Thanks for the invitation, by the way.” You grumble as Eddie stands up. Eddie curses, turning to you and holding an index finger, “To be fair, I wasn’t planning on going.” You raise an unconvinced eyebrow as Eddie turns around and cheers, stepping forward to hug who had expected to be Jeff or Gareth.

However, neither Jeff nor Gareth have light brown, wavy, shoulder-length hair.

It’s a woman, a pretty one with sunkissed freckles dotted all around her face. Behind her, and next to hug Eddie, is a man; soft, brown wisps of healthy hair long enough to kiss the tips of his ears. He catches your eyes over Eddie’s shoulder, and you find that he and Eddie share the same eye color.

Last to hug Eddie is another woman, kind-looking and just as pretty as the first, and with the curly strands that bounce along her shoulders, you might’ve guessed she and Eddie were related somehow.

The first girl peeks over Eddie’s shoulder and smiles, “Who’s this?” She squeaks, “Oh fuck, are we interrupting something? Steve— god, I told Steve we should’ve just waited to see you at the hotel.” The boy, Steve, you suppose, turns to the girl with an annoyed look as they start to bicker lightly. Eddie waves his hands to disperse the small moment, “As happy as I am to see you assholes, we actually were in the middle of something.” Eddie sarcastically smiles.

You roll your eyes and smile as you stand from the booth, “No, no, don’t worry about it.” You assure her as you step forward, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to make room for yourself as you extend a hand in greeting. You tell her your name, and she smiles, “I’m Robin!” She responds. She gestures to the man, “This is Steve,” Steve waves, “And this is Nancy.” Nancy waves and smiles.

“We’re old friends from high school.” Nancy clears up the confusion.

And then it suddenly makes sense. Eddie had mentioned something about his tight-knit group of friends from Hawkins. He didn’t go in-depth on who was who, but you now realize why Robin had sounded like such a familiar name.

You beam at them as the pieces come together, “Oh! Nice to meet you; Eddie’s mentioned you all before,” You respond, “It’s nice to put faces to the names finally.” 

Steve awes at that and slaps a hand onto Eddie’s shoulder, “You’ve been talking about us? How sweet of you.” He jokingly teases, squeezing at the dip of Eddie’s shoulder and neck. Eddie bats him away with a ghost of a smile, and you smile, enjoying the look of familiar joy on Eddie’s face.

Eddie ushers you all to sit in the booth— and you don’t ignore the fact that he slides in right beside you. Robin and Nancy sit on the other side, and Steve squeezes in last despite Robin’s protests and grumbles about him having wide shoulders. Eddie sighs, hands fidgeting on the table as he speaks, “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were going to the dinner with the band.” He asks.

Steve scoffs as Nancy snickers, and Robin rolls her eyes, “Yeah, that was the plan,” Robin responds. “But these two,” She gestures between Nancy and Steve, “Didn’t want to dress for it. Jeff told us where you were, by the way.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the mention of Jeff and his traitorous behavior.

Steve glances around the restaurant, and you catch Nancy’s eyes, sharing a quick, welcoming smile with one another. “Yeah, so can we, like, get out of here?” Steve asks in a bored manner before reaching over to grasp Eddie’s forgotten glass of wine. Eddie flicks Steve’s hand, and Nancy speaks up from the corner of the booth, “Do either of you know a place with good drinks?”

Eddie looks beyond bothered by how his friends crashed your short-lived dinner, so you answer, “There’s a karaoke bar down the street; they have a good happy hour, too.” You shrug. Steve and Robin perk up at the mention of karaoke, and Nancy groans, “God, don’t get these two started on karaoke. They don’t stop.” She complains.

Steve shrugs and slides out of the booth, “Too bad, we’re going.” He tugs his friends out of the booth. With the small window of no attention on you or Eddie, Eddie turns to you, “I’m sorry.” He motions toward his friends. You smile and shake your head, “That’s okay.”

Eddie leans in, and your heart skips a beat. You’re shocked when Eddie’s cool fingers brush against yours beneath the table and slip something into your hand, “This is what I brought you here for.” He softly says.

You glance beneath the table to see the clear cassette tape that Eddie had when you opened your door. You glance back at him, confusion riddled on your features, “What’s this?” You ask. Eddie’s gaze flickers to your lips before locking back on your eyes, “My apology.”

His apology?

Your mind reels for a few moments until you remember what Eddie had said yesterday, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.”

Before you can respond, Steve clasps a hand over Eddie’s shoulder, grabbing both of your attention, “Let’s go, man; I’m gonna battle you in a sing-off.” Behind Steve, Nancy and Robin stand hand in hand, Robin impatiently waving for you and Eddie to get up.

Mind reeling with a mix of emotions; you barely have enough time to shove the tape in your bag before Eddie drags you out of the booth.

With the tape practically burning a hole through your side and your mind telling you to slow down, your heart flutters in your chest as you allow yourself to weave your fingers through Eddie’s.

And when you see the small smile that grazes across Eddie’s lips, you decide to let yourself have this moment, even if you’re still wary of Eddie’s true intentions.

And once again, for the second night in a row, you find yourself in Eddie’s trap.

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part ten

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a/n: HIIII, you made it to the end !!! look at them evolving :') we're almost to the end friends, hang in there w me i beg !! i hope u enjoyed, and as always, i love love love reading any and all feedback as well as ur silly thots <3 TY FOR READING I LOVE U VERY BIG MWAHHH <3

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[iaeriy]

control • fermín lópez

summary: tempting the hateship of enemies to a risky lovely night.. based on this request!!

word count:6.2k!

warnings; a few spanish translated sentences, age gap: reader is 18 fermín is 20. slight angst, smut, missionary, cowgirl. italics are memory!

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD hey guys..im not pregnant im late but uh..enjoy this! 🎀

Another hot vacation month, your 4 friends decided to go to mykonos along with their boyfriends. How fun the vacation was going to come and go along the way you had it in mind, little did you know thay wouldn’t be changing when you figured that there were only 4 rooms. you were currently running around the house going into each room, now on the last room. aurora was already unpacking, “no hay otro cuartos..?” (are there any other rooms?) you spoke looking at her, her head shot up looking at you. “no y/n..hay solo cuatro y punto. no podemos cambiar ya.” (no y/n..theres only four, and period. we can’t change.) she said smiling slightly at you, you groaned whinning loudly. “ugh! seriously! this is not fucking fair!” you said walking out her room bumping into fermín, mira por donde vas baboso.” (watch where you’re going idiot.) you said going downstairs, fermín scoffed looking at you.

“please! can we just trade! i’ll do anything! i can’t share rooms with him and you know it!” you said whining and yelling at your friend isabella. “y/n! cut it out and deal with it! me and gavi already unpacked, just share the room and that’s it.” she said, you whined stomping back upstairs. your backpack still on before you ran to valerias room, another friend of yours. “val, por favor déjame cambiar el cuarto contigo!” (val, please let me change my room with yours!) you spoke, she looked at you. “no, i already unpacked. there shouldn’t be bad about your bedroom..” she said, you rolled your eyes. “whatever..” you mumbled, opening the door to now your room. “ONE FUCKING BED!?” you shouted, fermín stood behind you. you walked into your bedroom putting your stuff on the bed, fermín suddenly walked in. “que haces aquí, lárgate.” (what are you doing here, get out.) you said, he looked at you. “por que tan enojada?” (why so mad?) he said chuckling smirking at your reaction, you threw your shoes on the floor. “because i have to fucking share with you.” you spat out, walking out purposely bumping into his shoulder.

you went downstairs, to the kitchen finding a soda still thinking about the situation, you were upset. you never liked fermín, never did. everybody even your friends and his friends knew you didn’t like him, he was rude all the time for no reason, back to when you were in highschool he’d push you just to try to get with a friend of yours, that never worked. even at some point he decided to just be rude for no reason, no reason at ALL. now sharing rooms with him was just a mess. a horrible chaotic mess. you were now calmed down after 15 minutes later, after finishing your soda you went back upstairs. you saw fermín fixing his stuff, you sighed. he looked at you, “still grumpy?” he said as you rolled your eyes sticking the middle finger at him, “shut the hell up.” you said, “which side of the bed do you want?” you said, he chuckled. “aw, you’re going to sleep with me?” he said, mimicking you. “yeah thanks to your fucking friends and their girlfriends.” you spat out, sitting on the right side of the bed, “you can take the left side of the bed.” you spoke, he nodded his head just agreeing to you.

he looked at you, smirking to himself. you noticed looking at him, “i don’t know why you think it’s funny.” you said crossing your arms, now standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “it is, you obviously can’t get out the past and still stuck onto some thing you clearly still and do believe.” he said, you rolled your eyes. “and you clearly are too because you’re mentioning it yourself.” you said, leaning against the door. he chuckled shaking his head, “you’re an idiot, a fucking cry baby, just sleep on the fucking bed and get over it.” he said looking at you, his brows furrowing. “fuck you lopez.” you said walking away, disappointed at this whole situation. he went on his phone just to turn his music up.

you scoffed realizing he couldn’t hear your last sentence due to his airpods in his ears, you rolled your eyes getting up. you took off your sweater placing it on top of the pillow, now fully shoulder naked from your pink tube top. you looked down at your phone, 7:56pm. you chewed down on your flesh lip skin, you quickly walked out the room making your way downstairs, everybody was somewhat in the living room some sitting by the kitchen counter. you cleared your throat, “um i’m going out, do any of y’all want to go out with me?” you spoke, you heard a few no’s, “it was a long flight here, why are you going out?” aurora spoke, you shrugged. “just a walk to the beach.. we’re in the beach house so..” you spoke, she nodded her head. “well don’t get lost..” she said smiling, you nodded your head. “FIND A BOYFRIEND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT Y/N!!!” isabella shouted, gavi smacked her arm. “fermín will literally come downstairs and be pissed..” he said.

you frowned at the comment opening the door walking out the house, you put your wired headphones on putting on a song from your playlist, the sun was almost down. how fun.

approximately 40 minutes later

“y/n!?” fermín went through every room looking for you, his voice echoing through the upstairs part of the house. He stormed downstairs, everybody stopped what they were doing, “where’s y/n?” he spoke, aurora looked at gavi and gave her a look. “uh she uhhh..” gavi said, isabella was pinching his skin for him to not say such corny shit. “she went out for a walk, she’s somewhere in the beach.” isabella said letting go of gavis arm, “what the fuck? at 8:50!?” He said, gavi snickered. “you guys let her go out nearly at 10pm!? joder! no se pongan de pendejos!” (fuck! don’t act like idiots now!) He yelled, valeria looked at him. “why do you care? she doesn’t like you and you don’t neither.” she spoke, the room going quiet. he looked at your friend, “mejor callatè.” (shut up instead.), “mejor tu, ahora busca tu novia. solo hablas de ella.” (maybe you shut up, now go look for your girlfriend, all you do is talk about her.) cristo, isabellas boyfriend who was a la masia kid spoke, fermín scoffed before walking out the house slamming the door.

“why would you pinch me..” gavi said to isabella, she smiled. “i had to, you say nonsense stuff baby, besides y/n is young, shes the youngest out of everybody.” she said, eating a strawberry from the bowl.

fermín got in the car, driving to the beach. You were looking down at the water, admiring the small seashells you found. you grabbed one out the water, you smiled to yourself before another guy approached you. “you look a little young to be out here?” he spoke, you looked up furrowing your brows. “huh?” you said, confused. “hablas español?” (do you speak spanish?) he said, you nodded your head. “si..por que..” you said, he smiled slightly. you were still confused, “why’d you say i look a little young, i don’t know what that was needed for..” you murmured, he shrugged. you got up, the two of you walking together around the beach talking about how you ended up mykonos for the summer.

you and the stranger were currently by the stairs that led to walking to the beach, fermín spotted you by the corner of the stairs to the sand, he felt grossed out. The guy was ugly in his opinion, very..very ugly.. he wanted to do things to him, the rude things. you didn’t feel anything, not until you felt eyes. fermín was staring at the guy, you turned around and glared at him, you didn’t even say anything. “can i help you stalker? why are you here?” you said crossing your arms against your chest, he looked at you. “cause i uh..i got asked.” he spat out, you squinted at him with a disgusted look. “oh really?” you said, the poor guy cutting you off. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend-“ he said, you turned around quickly. “h-he’s not!what!?” you said frowning, “he’s just a guy i don’t really know!” you said, fermín scoffing behind you. just by then the guy was already gone, you groaned loudly slapping fermins arm. “you fucking twat! he’s gone now. who fucking sent you here!” you said, now speaking with hands. “gavi and isabella did!” he spoke now speaking with his hands as well.

“know what just shut the fuck up! all you do is cause arguments with me for no fucking reason, fuck off.” you said walking away, he followed you. “complaint all you want but i had a right to come and stop whatever was happening.” he said, you turned around stopping your walking. “shut up. just shut up.” you said walking upstairs, he followed you. “why the fuck are you even flirting with that man, he’s probably 30. you’re literally 2 years younger than me.” he said, you looked at him. “CAN YOU SHUT UP.” you said, the urge you had to slap his chest or something. he was irritating and annoying, all these questions for what. “ever since you met me and got to talk all that shit you still can’t stop, shut up already.” you said, walking to his car opening the door. you got in slamming the door, your arms crossed against your chest looking out the window. “See you’re still believing everything.” he said, you looked at him. “ya! callatè!” (stop! shut up!) you yelled, you rolled your eyes, frustrated with this situation. the only now possible solution was a nap.

“fucking child can’t even think properly.” he murmured, you punched his dick enough of his nonsense, he yelped in pain. “shut up. this is my life not yours, the worst situation i didn’t expect to happen literally came to life, sleeping with the only guy i hate because of how i was treated for no reason.” you said, glaring at him he slapped your hand off. “dont fucking touch me.” he said, you glared at him again mocking him, “keep fussing about the bedroom situation instead, or instead shut up. my god you talk a lot.” he spoke driving home, “this is why i always made fun of you, cause you’re annoying as fuck.” he spat out, you looked at him. your frows slightly furrowed, mouth slightly dropped. “what..?” you said, he looked at you. “i was joking.” He said, “no you werent. you say things and never think, not even apologize.” you said, “leave me alone, don’t even say anything to me.” you spoke, the car now parked bt the house. You got out slamming the door walking inside, he chased you inside. “maybe dont chase older men.” he said, you opened the door, everybody in the house going quiet at the arguing.

“my god! get out of my dating life you’re so fucking annoying!” you said before he scoffed, “am annoying, your the brat taking all my jokes too serious. he said as you ran upstairs yelling, “stop controlling my life!” you said, “you’re a brat y/n!” He shouted, “fuck you!” you yelled out loud and clear slamming the door. gavi and Isabella staring shockingly at each other, “wow fermín..what did you do to her..” gavi spoke lowly, he threw the keys in the small bucket. “nothing. just caught her talking to some guy older than her and shes pissed, even pissed about some bed.” he said, isabella snickered. valeria walked over to the kitchen, “she’s younger than all of us, she’s only eighteen. i think you should understand her too..” she spoke slightly smiling, gavi chuckled shaking his head. “or you can just fuck her, simple.” everybody eventually hoped in the conversation saying, “alright that’s disgusting.” Or “what the fuck pablo.” fermín shook his head, slightly smirking at the thought. “definitely not..” he spoke.

“she doesn’t like you ever since she was just in her 3rd year of highschool..” isabella spoke, he looked at her. “i know that already.” he said, now sitting on the kitchen stool.

meanwhile a furious y/n upstairs..

you kicked your shoes off throwing them across the wall, you shakily sighed loudly. you took your headphones off, placing them on the nightstand including your phone, you went to find your stuff to use for the shower, your undergarments and your pjs obviously. you grabbed everything walking to the bathroom and closing the door, that was something everyone noticed about you. when you were quiet, it was because you were mad, upset or sad. you were now in the water letting the water run down your body, so many thoughts, ‘did he like you?’ ‘why hasn’t he apologized?’ ‘did he go through the same and passed it on to me?’ ‘does he love me?’ all that repeated through your head as your vision began to blur from the tears swelling in your face, you leaned closer to the water letting the water hit your face.

suddenly you closed your eyes and there you were.

it was study hall period you were walking by yourself before you bumped into a jock, none other than fermín lopez. You looked at him smiling slightly, “sorry..” you said, he held you by your arms. “you know you look familiar..” he said, you gulped. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about..” you said, he titled his head. “really? not after you purposely said shit about me cause of your friend?” he said, you looked at him. “i was defending my friend, i can honestly say what i want. you did the same too.” you said, he grabbed your jaw looking down at you, “don’t touch me! get off m-me!” you said, he covered your mouth. “you’re fucking annoying, quit speaking about me on situations that dont involve your name, it’s very stupid.” he said, you felt like tearing up but you wanted to say more words. “besides, that explains all the rumors about you being a whore.” he said, walking off. you looked at him.

you immediately opened your eyes, already a few tears rolling down your cheek. you turned the water off, you wiped your tears getting out the shower, you did your routine, drying yourself wrapping a towel around your hair. you changed into a black grey t-shirt that pooled over your inner thighs and a pair of plaid black and white shorts. you heard a knock on your door, you looked at the door. “y/n! it’s me! are you alright in there?” isabella quietly spoke loud and clear, almost for you to hear. you walked over to the door slightly opening it, “yea..why?” you said looking at her, “just checking..i don’t know whats up with him.” She said quietly, you smiled slightly again. “yeah..” you spoke, “you sure you don’t..want to come downsta-“ she spoke, you said “no.” she looked at you nodding her head, “okay, just sleep then it’s okay..goodnight y/n..” she spoke, “goodnight.” you said smiling at her, closing the door again. you went back to the bathroom taking the towel off your head letting your hair fall loose.

you fixed the bed giving up, knowing none other but fermín would be sleeping with you. you did the bed, placing a white blanket ontop of the duvet before undoing the bed, getting under the sheets. you turned one lap on, the warm light making you slightly smile. you turned to your side, facing the window as you fell asleep to the sound of the air conditioning in the room.

approximately a few long ass hours later..

fermín was currently downstairs with gavi, both chitchatting about how highschool was and football.. “i have to get heading, isabella is probably waiting or asleep.” gavi spoke, fermín nodded his head. his mind still thinking sbiut that argument, his heart fluttering at the thought of you. “oh and, just try to apologize to y/n..” he said, fermín nodded his head getting up before gavi went upstairs. fermín now turning off the lights, heading upstairs and into the room you two shared. he opened the door, to find you asleep. you were facing his side now, deeply asleep. he went into the bathroom going to rinse himself. meanwhile for a sleepy you, you were shifting around the bedsheets finding a comfortable spot to sleep in. you heard the door open, your eyes slightly opening just halfway. you looked at the tall boy before falling back asleep, still asleep you didn’t hear a single thing.

he looked at the floor then the bed, with no other option he chose the bed. he gave in, knowing his body was aching from the workouts he had been doing, not even feeling fermíns weight on the bed, he laid next to you. he kept his distance away, he slept facing the pther side, meanwhile you were facing his back. obviously since you were in a sleeping spell.

4:44 am..

you woke up, fermín was holding you. you frowned not wanting to move his hands, what the hell were you thinking. you gulped, still remembering the situation. it had you still pissed off, he had his chest and crotch against you. you smiled to yourself giggling, before you slowly began to grind your ass against his crotch. you bit down on your lips, your stomach began to flutter as you continued rocking your hips in circles. you heard a few whimpers coming out him, you giggled feeling him suddenly grow an erection poking your ass. he slightly woke up, grabbing your waist tightly. you widened your eyes fake sleeping, “what are you even doing y/n..” he murmured still sleepy, your chest was slightly rising quickly, heart beating fast. he smirked to himself, you were holding urself back attempting to not say anything. his hand was already sneaking up to your lower tummy, you felt his warmth caress your skin, his fingers sliding inside your shorts. your eyes widened, cheeks all flushing pink. he continued rubbing you, fingers pacing up the speed. “f-fer..” you moaned out, he smirked slapping your clit.

“what the fuck!” you sat up looking at him, he looked at you. “still upset?” he said tilting his head, you shook your head. “n-no..why..” you said, still looking at him. he held your hand, you blushed heavily. you crawled closer to him, sitting infront of him, meanwhile he was laying down back facing the wall, “did you ever mean those things..” you said looking at him, he looked at you, “no..” he said, you giggled. “not even after calling me a whore?” you said, he shook his head. “no i wasn’t thinking y/n..that was a while back..you were young too..” he said, you crossed your legs. “yeah..whatever..you did it after i lost my virginity to one of your friends..i forgot his name..” you mumbled, looking down. “we’re not friends anymore. that was awhile back.” he said, holding your chin. you looked at him. “you’re a really sweet adorable girl y/n..” he said, you looked at him. the little sparkle in his eye making your heart flutter, “you care a lot for your friends, especially everything.” he said, his fingers now tracing circles around your thigh.

he was now sitting up, you leaned closer to him wrapping your arms around him. you placed your lips on his, kissing him passionately. he kissed you back holding onto your waist, you pushed him down lips still glued onto each other sitting on his crotch. you slightly began to move your hips against him, he widened his eyes. “f-fer..” you said, he pulled away confused. “what? whats wrong?” he said sitting up, “n-nothing..i-it’s just..a-are you s..sure..?” you said looking at him, hands on his chest, he smirked shaking his head. flipping you over.

now.. you were laying down. he hovered above you, your cheeks were flushed with pink, “i want you, been wanting you. you don’t know how long i’ve wanted and waited for this.” he said, kissing you deeply, you kissed back your hands sliding in the black shirt he was wearing. he moved his lips down to your neck, starting to leave wet kisses, around your neck. his weight now ontop of you, his crotch in contact with your clothed slit as you raised your hips up trying to reach for something. he pushed your hips down, sucking on your skin. “f-fermin! s-someone’s going to n-notice!” you said smacking his arm, he groaned in response, still working on the hickey. you held onto his arm, trying to move your hips before he pulled away from your neck. you blushed heavily, he pulled your shorts down as you looked away embarrassed. “y/n look at me.” he said, you nodded looking at him, “when’s the last time you did it..” he said, you gulped. “s-since a year ago..” you mumbled, he kissed your forehead.

“wha-what..is it bad?” You said, he shook his head. “no, don’t worry..” he said, his eyes narrowing down to your panties. “how pretty..” he spoke, you rolled your eyes. “s-shut up!” you whisper yelled, he pulled you closer to him. he pulled off his grey sweats down with his boxers as well, you blushed heavily once his cock sprang out. you gulped, “fuck. I didn’t bring any protection.” he said, you smiled at him. “it’s fine..you can take me raw i-i don’t mind..” you whispered, he chuckled kissing your forehead—hands placing next to your head. he lined his cock against your entrance, spitting down rubbing his saliva all over his length. he pushed himself in, your breathing starting to hitch as you arched your back once he fully got himself in. you shut your legs around him, you were whimpering and wincing slightly in pain. he pressed his forehead down against yours, “shhhh..don’t want to wake the others up, don’t we pequeña?” he said pecking your forehead as you nodded, “m-mhm..” you breathed out, “want me to start moving?” he slightly pulled up your shirt, caressing the side of your waist.

you nodded your head, “y-yes..” you spoke under your whimper, he slightly began to thrust slowly inside of you. you held onto his arm, your stomach fluttering. “d-does it hurt?” he said, you shook your head. “n-no..j-just too big..” you moaned out, he looked down at you holding onto your hand. you looked up at him, “or do you want me to go a bit further?” he said, you nodded your head—embarrassed to speak of your noises, not to mention! your heated up red cheeks, he raised your hand placing it against the pillow. thrusting quickly, you moaned softly feeling him inch out your walls, your hands sliding inside his shirt slightly scratching his back with every small hard thrust. you were whimpering, kissing the side of his neck to hold your moans in, my my..it felt so good. you were moaning uncontrollably, not as loud..but loud enough for fermín to groan into your ear.

he fell on you, dick still thrusting into you as he rocked his hips back and forth. you held onto the back of his head, you were moaning uncontrollably. “should’ve done this e-earlier when we hated each other..” he groaned out, you cupped his cheek looking at him. your mind was foggy, nearly blind by the pleasure consuming your body you felt in a different state of mind, he continued kissing the side of your neck still moving inside you. “f-faster..please..i-i need y-you so so b-bad..” you whined out in between your moans, he pushed himself in deely, thrusting faster the bed creaking and frame slightly hitting against the wall. your eyes rolling back at the pleasure, you burried your head against the pillow. “y-yes! r-right there..!” you moaned out, hands all over his torso.

he groaned feeling you squelch around him, your legs nearly crossing around his lower back. he pulled out in the middle of his thrusts, you whined at the loss of contact as you looked at him, “w-why’d you stop..?” you said breathing heavily, he wiped the sweat off your forehead shaking his head while smiling, he slammed himself inside your walls. you gasped between your loud moan, feeling him pump harder and faster inside you. you scratched his back, moaning loudly. “so tight and nice..” he groaned into your ear, caging you with his hands. “m-mmhmm..” you said, your eyes rolling back again. he chuckled, watching your eyes roll back. “so..no more bad mouth? shit talking?” he said, you looked away moaning uncontrollably. he pulled out just halfway slamming himself back in harshly, with that swift movement he grabbed your chin, “answer me y/n.”

you moaned louder again, he chuckled again watching your response. “n-no! n-no m-more..” you moaned out, he smirked. your heatness on your tummy increasing, the small little stupid smirks and flirty talks making you flustered. “i-it’s too h-hot..” you whined, he wiped off the sweat off your forehead. “hm, i wonder why?” he said tilting his head, he thrusted harder making you moan louder. you slowly began to tighten feeling your orgasm coming, “f-fer..i’m close..” you moaned out, he rubbed your forehead. “i’m almost there..just a few more okay? you’be been doing so good pequeña..” he whispered out between his groan, you blushed heavily. your hands crawling up to the hem of his shirt, you tugged on it.

he smirked, pulling his shirt up taking it off scarding it somewhere in the room. you cupped his cheek, kissing him. he kissed back, the kiss sloppy and slow. your free hand running down his back, “i-i can’t hold on..i-i’m all tingly..” you said whining, he pulled away looking down at you, “it’s okay, just a few more. i promise.” he said, finding your g-spot and without a warning, thrusting quicker into you. your eyes rolling back yet again nearly screaming, your tummy going rollercoasters making your thighs twitch. “o-oh fuck!” you moaned out scratching his back, you seriously felt like giving up, your high coming in closer and closer. your back arched gushing all over him without any sign, causing fermín to squirt his hot warm loads inside you. you fell back on the mattress looking at him, breathing heavily, he caressed your forehead rubbing his thumb up and down. “you did so well after a year ago baby..” he said, you panted out giggling.

“again..please..” you looked at him, his eyes widened. “you’re not tired?” he said, you shook your head. “n-not not really..you’re not t-tired yourself t-though..” you croaked, he nodded, “sit up.” he said, you sat up closing your legs shut to not let any of his cum ooze out of you, he smirked. you sat up sitting on your knees as he laid down, you looked at him. “you know you want to take control..” he said, you giggled crawling over to him, you placed one leg next to his thigh, the other on his other thigh. you aligned yourself, sinking down into his cock. you moaned out, stomach fluttering again. you slowly began to rock your hips back and forth, he groaned feeling you everywhere. he raised your shirt up, you smacked his hand off. “i-i’m in charge, r-remember.” you spat out, he chuckled spanking your thigh. you moaned out, whimpering by every little grind against him.

“fuck..move faster, i don’t care if they hear us anymore.” he groaned out, you giggled starting to slightly bounce on him, you moaned uncontrollably. your ass smacking against him with every bounce, your hands on his chest nearly scratching his chest. he sat up as you looked at him, you removed your hands off his chest—bringing your hands up to your shirt. You raised your shurt to your abdomen before taking it off, you tossed it on the floor discarding it somewhere. his eye’s widening, his hands scattering to your chest..he began fondling with your boobs. You wrapped your arms around him, he buried his face down your chest, a giggle leaving out your mouth as your hand rand down his hair, he began kissing around the skin of your boobs.

“w-what are y-you doing!” you whisper yelled. he bit down on your nipple, you whiny moaned. you began bouncing a bit quicker onto him, you scratched his back. he pecked your boob before his mouth went over to your neck, he began sucking onto your skin again. your head leaned back, you held onto his arm. you stopped moving face all hot and red, “s-seriously!” You yelled, the sounds of him sucking down on your nipple and the little fat around you boob making you embarrassed. “why aren’t you moving.” he said, you gulped. “u-um-“ you moaned out once he began thrusting his hips up into you, you leaned your head back.

he bit down on your nipple as you whiny moaned, your eyes rolled back feeling the tip of his dick hit near your g-spot. “y-yes! pl-please there!” you moaned louder, he squeezed your boob hardly leaving a mark as you scratched his back. you pressed your forehead against his, he squeezed and slapped your ass harshly yet again leaving another mark. you cupped his cheek, kissing him deeply. your legs wrapping around his waist now, he kissed back letting his tongue slide inside your mouth, exploring around. you sucked around his tongue, his hand squeezing your boob still—your moans uncontrollably slipping out, the bed creaking and lastly the sounds of skin slapping just echoing around the room.

you pushed him down as he was laying down, you grabbed the hand he was squeezing and holding your boob with pinning it against the bedframe, you were leaning against him. “h-hey!” he spoke, frowning. nearly laying down, your boobs nearly infront of his face as you rocked your hips quickly against him. “f-feels so good and b-better..right baby..” you moaned out, you slightly gripped onto the bedframe making it creak. his cheeks turned pink at the comment, you giggled flicking your hair to the side. “my god, you’re so perfect..” he murmured, you began bouncing onto him moaning within every bounce of each. your ass slightly twerking down onto him, you laid your chest on him leaning near his neck. you sucked onto his neck, kissing on the spot.

that only took about a few minutes until he grabbed you by your arm, you yelped once she flipped you over—still inside you, he pinned your hands above your head. locking them with his hand tightly, “w-wait!” you whispered, he pulled out. your eyes widened knowing the next move,“n-no! d-don-fuck!” you screamed in pleasure the second he slammed himself inside you deeply, the tip of his cock hitting just near around. your legs crossing around his waist, you moaned uncontrollably with every thrust, he was gripping onto your hands causing the bed to thud. your stomach began to slowly tighten, “c-close..” you moaned out, he burried his face into your neck. pounding into you, your vision getting blurry and seeing little white stars, you moaned into his ear causing him to twitch inside of you. his grip getting looser on your hands, your nails running down his back. he groaned loudly almost immediately bursting out, he moved deeply pounding into your g-spot yet again, you bit down on his shoulder, muffling your scream. “not gonna last longer if you keep being like this..” he groaned out, you giggled kissing his cheek.

his hand sneaked under you as his fingertips began rubbing against your clit, while his cock was pulsating inside of you. you leaned your head back, arching your back moaning loudly. “k-keep going! i-i’m so c-close!” you moaned out, he continued rubbing your clit in circles. your eyes rolling back, tummy getting tighter. “i-i c-cant hold o-on!” you moaned out. his thrusts driving you insane, you moaned his name out repeatedly chanting it over and over as you gushed around him again chasing your high, he groaned loudly injecting his spurts of cum inside of you from your clenching. you panted heavily. he laid next to you, you were shaking as your head turned to look at him. “d-don’t ever bring th-this night up..w-whatever stays in here..remains quiet..” you sighed out, he chuckled nodding his head before bringing you into his chest. you rested your head on his chest, his arms wrapping around your back. “s-so..what are we after this..” you spoke, he looked down, wiping the sweat off your forehead before kissing it down.

“hmm..do you think we should start off dating..” he said, you giggled burrying your face into his chest. “you’re so adorable..” He mumbled, your eyes slowly closing. he wrapped the blanket around both of u again as you whined, “i-it’s hot..” you mumured, he played with your hair as you fell asleep. “goodnight you brat..” he murmured, falling asleep eventually himself.

12:16pm..

your arms were wrapped around fermín, his face resting against your boobs. you hummed, hand running through his hair. “it’s 12:16..we have to wake up before they suspect anything fermí..” you whispered, he groaned turning his head to the wall. you giggled, “come onnn..” you said he slightly opened his eyes looking at you he pecked your boob, you rolled your eyes playfully. his mouth wrapping around your boob, you smacked his head. “fermín!” you slightly yelled, he chuckled getting off you kissing your lips. you kissed back giggling, slightly sitting up. you were about to get up as you felt your legs about to give up, you fell whining on the floor. fermín looked down st you smirking, you sat back on the bed. “what’s wrong?” he said, “my legs..they feel funny after last night..” you murmured rubbing your eyes grabbing your panties, putting them on. “good, you were fucked just exactly how i wanted and with the way you’re walking there will be no questions.” he spoke.

you whined trying go reach, your inner thighs aching. “fer! be quiet! can you give me my shirt and shorts..” you said, he nodded his head. grabbing both shirt and shorts, he laid you down. “hey!” you said, he put the shorts on for you. your cheeks warming up, “sit up.” he said, you sat up putting the shirt over you. you hugged him, he fell on you smiling. “funny how one thing changed quickly in one night..” he spoke, you kissed his cheek. “and i thank you for that..i love you.” you said, he blushed heavily. you giggled pecking his nose, you sat up. “go get changed now silly..” you said, he groaned putting his boxers back on. you watched him put his sweats on, you bit down on your lip. “i like you without your shirt on..” you mumbled he chuckled, “you really think they’ll let me go downstairs like that?” He said, you shook your head giggling walking to the closet finding his black tank top. you blushed heavily, “carry me i can’t walk-“ you said, he chuckled.

he walked over to you, picking you up. you giggled as the two of you went downstairs. the conversations everybody had going silent once they saw you and fermín suddenly happy. “am i seeing this or are fermín and y/n now getting along.” aurora said, gavi snickered. “i don’t think that’s what happened.” he spoke, isabella smacking his head. “they just woke up don’t start..” she said sitting down next to him, you got on fermíns back due to your legs. he sat you down on the stool, you swung your legs around. “didn’t you two argue..” cristo spoke, you looked at him, his eyes widened when he realized. “Oh what the fuck.” he said, gavi turned around wanting to know. “what happened..” he said, you giggled cupping your cheeks watching fermín. “YOU TWO FUC-“ gavi whispered as isabella covered his mouth, “did you two actually..” she mouthed, you smiled before spinning yourself around with the stool. fermín walked over to you and sat next to you, everbody had noticed how he seemed different.

a few minutes later..

everybody was busy eating their breakfast or lunch, you gave fermín a look to help you get up. you slightly got up holding onto his shoulder, he got up holding you by your waist guiding you to the couch. “looks like y/n and fermín made it up and fucked guys! pay up!” gavi shouted, everybody groaned. “nobody is paying you 20 euros for fucks sake!” valeria shouted. “n-no we didn’t!” you pushed him off, your legs wobbly and shaking. he smirked squeezing your ass without everybody noticing, “are you sure? from the looks of last night you couldn’t stop moaning over and o-“ you covered his mouth, “be quiet!” you said holding onto his shoulder.

“if you be quiet, maybe we can go at it again.”

#football imagine #football x reader #football smut #football fanfic #fermin lopez fanfic #fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez smut #fermin lopez imagine

[theblueflower05]

Ayo saying that Ao'nung is criminally underrated

So imagine he been like acting up right? Fights, tempers been blowing, and his 'punishment' is to do work with you/reader who is the clans designated calming woman 🤣 ?? Anyways, so like you been working with him for a week or so, he's made zero progress. You can't deny that he is indeed scrumptious so you offer another way for him to relax, to stress relieve him. Basically you become an outlet for him yknow yknow 🤣

- 🍒

I WANT TO KISS YOU RIGHT ON THE FUCKING MOUTH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING AONUNG I LOVE THIS MERMAN SO SO MUCH.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: stupid amounts of smut. Oral(male and female receiving) Cock warming. Ao’nung being obsessed with the reader and her magical healing pussy. You know, norm lol

Smut beneath the cut!

You fustrate Ao’nung.

Which is funny, because you do the complete opposite to the rest of the clan.

You’re highly spiritual, closer to Ewya then anyone she’s ever met claims his mother. You’re centered in who you are, mature beyond your young years.

You’re not the ocean, with its ever changing tides, but the beach. The sand, the earth.

You work closely with the Tsakarem, but your approach to medicine is different.

“It’s in the mind” you whisper, voice airy and light “your body can never be well if your mind isn’t”

It’s why he’s been sent to you.

His father had had it with his temper and the fist fights that resulted from it. Tonowari would not tolerate another minute of it.

Ao’nung could handle grunt work; shucking shells. Cleaning out the bed pots for compost. He was good with his hands, if he just kept them moving he’d be fine.

What he can’t handle is being stuck with you, for hours on end, doing nothing.

Your Mauri is on the smaller side, but cozy. It reflects you perfectly. Healing herbs grow from clay pots. Sun catches and wind chimes sway in the breeze from the open window.

Heavy fragranced incense plumes clog his nose.

He knows everyone else loves it in here, children and elders alike flock for your company and attention.

But he hates it. It’s stuffy and boring.

He thinks he puts on a pretty good mask though. Doesn’t outrightly tell you that he’s pretty sure you’re a fucking fraud and all of this is bullshit.

He sits with you on the woven mats infront of your alter. Legs crossed, hands resting on his knees as you lead him through guided meditation.

“Close your eyes” you’d instructed and he’d followed “Empty your thoughts let the Great Mother flow in”

You hum, the vibrations musical and pleasant sounding and all in all it shouldn’t be that horrible of an experience.

Except for the fact that he feels no calmer then yesterday. Or the week before. Or the month before that.

His face is all scrunched up, his hands fists on his thighs instead or resting palms. He’s so obviously wound tighr.

“Ao’nung?”

You call for him, and he peeks one eye open.

“This isn’t really helping you, is it?” You don’t sound upset or hurt. Just observant. Your big blue eyes patient and kind.

“Um-“ he starts fully intending to lie to you. But those eyes…”not really, no”

Your mouth quirks and your ears wiggle. Like your taking his words and focusing hard on them.

You stand then, all graceful limbs, and place a thin finger on your chin “when do you feel most relaxed?”

That’s not an easy question to ask. It’s too big- he can’t really compute it. Mostly because he can’t remember the last time he was truly relaxed-

He shakes his head. Shrugs his shoulders “Come on, Y/N. Let’s just get this done and appease my father”

“I don’t spend my afternoons with you to appease your father” you sigh, even then he can’t sense an ounce of frustration on you. Perma composed “I spend this time with you trying to help you, I want you to find peace”

He has to fight a scoff. Wants to roll his eyes. Peace, yeah okay.

“Think very hard- when was the last time you felt the weight of the world off your shoulders? The last time that you relaxed your jaw? Even if it’s silly, tell me” you push on, gently.

Huh.

The last time he unclenched his jaw?

He can feel the tips of his ears go pink as the memory resurfaces. A few nights ago he got a moment to himself, snuck down onto the empty beach. Shoved his hand in his tweng and fisted his leaking cock-

“I don’t know if it’s appropriate…”

You giggle, it twinkles like your wind chimes, as you approach him. Behind his broad back. Your small hands rest on his big shoulders. “When has that ever stopped you?”

You’re sun warm and smell of water flowers. Your presence steady and comforting behind him. It prompts him to talk.

“I made myself come about a week ago, it felt good. I felt relaxed” he admits and you hum again.

Your hands still on him.

“I see. You take a more physical approach to mental wellness, there is no shame in that” you start, as your dainty fingers begin to dig into the meat of his shoulders. Working at the tight knots with finessed expertise “Do you have a lover?”

He had many. “You could say that”

“No, no. I don’t mean a warm body to fuck for the night. Do you have a lover, that you can trust to take care of your needs?”

Again, his mind is blank. Why do you ask him these questions? And better yet- why can’t he answer them?

You don’t force him to speak. Instead you keep massaging him, as you start up that sweet little hum again. It feels so good that Ao’nung stars to lean back into you, biting down on his lower lip hard to stop the sounds that are building in his chest

“Do you know what brings me peace of mind?” You inquire, offhandedly, as your fingers creep into his hair.

You release the tight bun on the back of his head, and his dark hair falls in waterfall like curls around his head. The tension of keeping it so tightly back released. It feels so nice-

“Hmm?” Hes dazed. Melting into a puddle or your making.

“Trust” you say simply.

That’s so stupid. He tells you so. He regrets it though, thinking you’ll stop your ministrations.

You don’t of course, you keep going. Unfazed.

“I trust the people around me, our clan. Our village. We are good strong people, we take care of each other. I trust the ocean, the give and take of the life cycle. I trust our mother Eywa- I feel safe and held in her embrace” your words are hypnotic, spoken low and true “and I trust myself, to honor my needs. When was the last time you truly honored yours, Ao’nung?”

There only you and him in the empty room. Your humming and the smell of fragrant burning herbs surround him.

Trust, you say.

He trusts you. It’s a stark revelation. He almost can’t believe it.

“I…” he clears his throat, trying to continue “I’m supposed to take care of others. Not the other way around. I am future Olo’eyktan. I do not have time for such trivial matters”

Again. Those little sighs.

When you press your plush lips against his cheek he almost shoots up off the floor. His eyes go wide and he lurches a bit.

“I see now that I’ve been taking the wrong approach” you tell him, apologetically as you get up. Coming to stand in front of him once more.

You hold his gaze, never breaking eye contact as you begin to undress.

Your motions are fluid, it’s almost a dance, as you slide your tweng down your shapely legs. As you unclip the seashell pin that holds together your gossamer top.

You stand in front of him completely nude. He traces your womanly figure with his eyes. Your full breasts, the smooth lines of your flat stomach, the curve of your hips.

He zeros in on the mound of your pussy. He can feel his mouth water and a wave of desire surges through him as he reaches for you.

“Maway” you coo as you step into his arms. Sinking down into his waiting lap “calm, Ao’nung”

As he tastes mouthfuls of your skin he thinks that he might have found the antidote to his raging temper.

———————————

He tests this theory, often.

When he tangles his fishing net beyond repair, and then rips it right down the middle right as he’d almost had it loose-

He fucks you from behind on the moonlit beach. His hand clamped over your mouth as he loses himself in your heat.

When him and Tsireya get into a heated argument about how to handle an internal affair within the village- and she throws the fact that she’s older then him and will be Tsahik first-

He makes you bounce on his cock until you can barley move, your knees giving out and his hips snapping up to keep moving inside of you.

When a bad storm destroys docs and he has to spend days repairing it-

He fucks your throat, brutally. Watching as you sputter on his cock. Your eyes, always so sage and peaceful, water horribly. Tears roll down your pretty cheeks. When he comes, he makes sure to pull you off so that he can watch the fat milky globs soil you even further

It works. Your methods. You are a skilled healer after all, you have found a way to calm the chiefs son.

Everyone is surprised, in awe.

Tonowari is over joyed and Ronal is grateful. You try to take it all in stride. This is what you do. You help people find their inner peace.

But it’s not the same as everyone else. Ao’nung is so different, he means so much more to you.

While you had helped him find his own balance- he had unbalanced you. You’re needy, jittery. You crave his touch, his kisses, his thick cock.

His love. You crave that most of all.

As much as you meditate and talk to Eywa, you can’t seem to recenter. You’re not whole until you’re in his arms.

Most nights, Ao’nung ends up in your hut. Your bedding smells like him, he’s very familiar with their softness.

He has you spread out, exactly like he loves.

He his face inbetween your thighs as he eats your wet cunt. It’s like a cradle. He’s serene as he feasts on you. Eyes closed, Aonung prays to the Great Mother as you stroke his hair lovingly.

You have your alter- he has his. You sweet cunt makes him feel closer to the spirit of Pandora then any prayer circle ever did.

“Love it” he mutters, his tongue still lapping at your swollen clit.

You can’t form words. They were all tongue fucked out of you two orgasms ago. You can only squeal and nod.

“Love this pussy. Need it. Always” he continues, his voice muffled by your thighs. He sounds drunk. So relaxed “Need you always”

You’re too gone to fully comprehend it.

There was never any fighting it to begin with. The Olo’eyktan had tasked you with the taming of his wild son. Anything to quell that ever burning fire in Ao’nung.

Who knew that all it would take is you spreading your legs?

UM I LOVE YOU AONUNG. Seriously. He so fun and different to write for and everyone needs to start writing him and stop neglecting my lil fish baby. @cinetrix I thought about you while I wrote this because I know how much you love our best Metkayina boy!

But the real question is; how am I supposed to not make this a series? LOL YOU GUYS KINK REQIESTS ARE TOO GOOD.

#aonung x reader #ao’nung smut #Ao’nung x reader smut #aged up aonung

[crazyk-imagine]

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

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

You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?" 

"That's not a can-do attitude." 

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted." 

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute." 

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you." 

"After we go out to lunch." 

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open. 

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind. 

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened. 

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again). 

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders. 

"How long have you been feeling like this?" 

You shrug. 

"How long?" He asks again. 

"A few weeks." 

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-" 

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises." 

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?" 

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?" 

"You have a few of the signs." 

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in. 

"A while ago." 

"So, you know?" 

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house." 

"Oh, honey." 

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again). 

"What do you mean?" 

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks. 

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since." 

"He should know." 

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.” 

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now." 

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away." 

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?" 

"Yeah." 

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this." 

-

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again. 

It wouldn’t be the first time this week. 

-

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him. 

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please." 

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew." 

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please." 

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door. 

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness. 

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance. 

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you. 

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?" 

No one responds. 

"What fucking happened?" 

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all." 

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?" 

-

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours. 

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is. 

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you. 

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in. 

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad. 

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened. 

"Why is he here?" 

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side." 

"How did he know?" 

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help." 

"Isn't family only allowed in here?" 

"Apparently you two are engaged." 

You owlishly blink. "What?" 

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since." 

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?" 

"I think so." 

Jamie moves a little in his sleep. 

"That's my cue to leave." 

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here." 

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up. 

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh. 

"Sweetheart?" 

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad. 

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?" 

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?" 

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat. 

"Jam-Jam?" 

A sniffle fills the room. 

"Jamie, look at me." 

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me." 

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?" 

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt." 

"No more, Jam-Jam?" 

"I was going to tell you." 

"What? After the birth?" 

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out." 

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?” 

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once. 

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears. 

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.” 

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue. 

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.” 

“I made one.” 

You tilt your head. “What was that?” 

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-” 

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?” 

He nods, scratching his head. 

“Come closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues. 

“Come here.” 

He scoots the chair closer. 

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?” 

He nods. 

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?” 

“No.” 

“Do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to leave any time soon?” 

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.” 

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.” 

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?” 

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-” 

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?” 

You shamefully shake your head. 

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?” 

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?” 

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.” 

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?” 

“Not in the least bit.” 

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.” 

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.” 

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles. 

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence. 

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say. 

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.” 

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.” 

He shakes his head. 

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug. 

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you. 

“No. You didn’t.” 

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?” 

He nods, “’course I do.” 

“Give me your hand.” 

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you. 

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?” 

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?” 

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.” 

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.” 

“He?” 

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?” 

“Have you met yourself?” 

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.” 

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. 

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.” 

“Everyone?” You repeat. 

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.” 

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.” 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” 

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now. 

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.” 

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.” 

“We can.” 

“Atta girl.” 

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in. 

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment. 

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled. 

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?” 

You smile, “I’m better now.” 

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?” 

“Yes, coach!” 

“And now I’m scared.” 

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out. 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks. 

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.” 

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.” 

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.” 

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs. 

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend. 

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie. 

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand. 

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.” 

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?” 

“No,” Ted shakes his head. 

“Not at all, Beard.” 

The door opens and heads turn. 

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.” 

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks. 

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud. 

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out. 

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do. 

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap. 

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.” 

“I’m your dad.”

 “We’re your dads,” Beard adds. 

You glance over at Jamie. 

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.” 

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in. 

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see. 

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks. 

“Jaim?” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again. 

Ted smiles behind his phone. 

“We should probably give them some time alone.” 

“You think?” He asks. 

Beard nods. 

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.” 

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off. 

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long. 

“I think we should name it Jamie.” 

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue. 

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.” 

“Why not? It’s a good name.” 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?” 

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

“Was that everything?” 

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents). 

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles. 

“Is there a card?” 

“I hope so.” 

Now you’re confused. 

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles. 

“I’m lost.” 

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair. 

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.” 

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile. 

“And he let you?” 

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yea- really?” 

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course, I’m right.” 

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

“You lie.” 

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.” 

“I’m not sorry.” 

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine. 

“I’m not. I’m just being me.” 

“Yeah, and that’s mean.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” 

“Girls can like boy things too.” 

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.” 

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.” 

He groans, “please stop.” 

“Never.” 

You stiffle a yawn. 

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.” 

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.” 

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest. 

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch. 

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier. 

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.” 

“Jam-Jam?” 

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better. What were you doing?” 

He shrugs. 

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x fem reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x you #crazyk-imagine

[autisticlancemcclain]

part one

part two

———

“Ugh,” Keith says.

“Ugh,” Lance agrees.

Keith looks up slowly from where he was glowering at his plate of appetizers, staring at Lance for several minutes with eyes squinted in suspicion.

“What the fresh fuck are you talking about.”

Lance wrinkles his nose at him. “What?”

“You love these things,” Keith says, like the Blue Paladin is a particularly slow toddler. “You’re usually – prancing around, making a fool of yourself in front of pretty people. Every time one of these dumbass celebration missions ends you complain. The fuck you mean, ‘ugh’?”

“I mean ugh,” Lance repeats, emphasizing the word. “Sometimes I simply do not feel the party vibe, Keith. You ever think about that? No. Because you never think about anything. Because the only thing in your skull is a hamster wheel covered in cobwebs. So there.”

Keith lets that hang between them for a moment.

“You’re just mad you got called ugly earlier, huh.”

“It was so rude!” Lance explodes, obviously waiting for Keith to bring it up. “Like, who says that? What kind of trained diplomat refers to a random stranger as ‘the homely one’? Why the fuck would you say that? And it’s not even true! I’m a legit snack! I have been propositioned, you know! More than once! It’s actually quite frequent!” He throws his hand up, noise of frustration coming from deep in his throat. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no actual sentences come out, just different variations of ‘ugh!’ and ‘how dare!’ and ‘the nerve!’.

Because he is a stellar person, Keith does not laugh, instead biting his tongue as hard as he physically can without biting it clean off. Everytime Lance’s sputtering dies off only to kick back up when he thinks of his transgression again it gets harder.

Contrary to what everyone seems to think, Keith likes Lance. They’re friends. They hang out, they talk shit about other people, they do friend things. That’s why they’re both sitting here, at the edge of some grandiose ballroom on a planet whose name Keith has forgotten because they’ve only been here one day, leaning against each other and picking food off the same plate. (Well, Keith’s plate. He’s being gracious and letting Lance have some because Lance has taken enough massive Ls today, and Hunk is busy, so if Lance gets hangry Keith can’t just pass him off on somebody, so. Better to keep him fed, or whatever.)

“We should go – do something,” Lance mutters, picking apart what appears to be a cookie. Maybe. Alien shit is weird. “Make faces behind Shiro’s back. Convince Coran to get wine drunk.”

“We did that already,” Keith dismisses. “Last time, remember? We can’t do it too many times or we’re gonna have to be supervised again. We just managed to convince Shiro to ease up on the trackers.”

Lance sinks further into his chair. “Ugh,” he says again, with true feeling.

Keith begins to feel bad. Lance doesn’t look genuinely upset, he doesn’t think – he knows what a genuinely upset Lance looks like and it’s fucking heartbreaking; it’s the kind of shit that could stop wars – but Keith is a little bit worried that he is bothered, in some way. It can’t feel good to get called ugly in front of everybody. It was funny. And Keith laughed a little. But, still.

Keith nudges their shoulders together. “You wanna go dance?”

Lance freezes. He turns his head slowly to face Keith, like if he moves too fast Keith is going to change his mind. His brown doe eyes are wide and hopeful and over the top, honestly. God. No one asked for that.

“Really?”

“No. I’m taking back my offer. You’re being weird about it.”

“Nope! Nuh-uh! No takebacksies! We’re dancing!” Lance whoops, shoving back his chair and scrambling to his feet. He wraps his fingers tightly around Keith’s wrist, grinning so wide his face is about to split.

“You are holding me hostage,” Keith complains, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He gets up at Lance’s urging, popping the last of the weirdo alien cookie in his mouth and wiping his hand on his suit pants. “Let’s go, Homely One.”

If looks could kill, Keith’s intestines would be painting the floor. The look Lance gives him is lethal. It’s made worse when Keith laughs, because that was funny as hell and he refuses to pretend otherwise. He pulls Lance away, though, before he can reach for the butterknife that’s closeby and stab Keith in the eye, clasping their hands together and weaving them through the crowd of dancers and partygoers. Pretty soon the excitement catches up to Lance, because after a minute he’s the one dragging them around, having apparently picked a perfect spot on the ornate marble dancefloor for them to situate themselves. It is, of course, right smack in the middle, surrounded by people on all sides, right under the massive and delicate crystal chandelier that Keith and Hunk spent forty minutes mocking when they first got here.

“You’re extra as all fuck,” Keith informs him, dutifully putting his hand on Lance’s waist as instructed.

“I will have my Sam Montgomery moment or so help me God,” Lance responds. Keith notices he’s closer than he needs to be and immediately orders himself to un-notice that. He can see flecks of amber in Lance’s dark eyes. It’s so actually horrible. He focuses on Lance’s nose, instead, hoping for reprieve, but of course there is where all his freckles are. An attempt to focus on Lance’s mouth is a disaster waiting to happen, so he looks deliberately at Lance’s bigass forehead to distract himself. It kind of works.

The forehead that he is so intensely focused on wrinkles, and Keith says, “What,” and Lance says, “Aw, Keith, gross,” and then before Keith can stop anything Lance is untangling their hands, licking his thumb, and wiping something at the corner of his mouth.

Keith freezes.

He processes.

He gags.

All in that order.

“Lance!” he cries, swiping his own hands at his mouth. “Gross!”

“What’s gross is you walking around with crusty icing on the corner of your mouth, heathen,” Lance says, eyebrow arched and chin tilted defiantly.

Keith makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. His face matches his armour. He prays that the universe crack open the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t – gah. No one has done that to him since Shiro’s mother would come to visit and take them to get ice cream. When he was eleven.

“Are you a ninety year old grandmother,” he hisses, swiping the corner of his mouth one last time. He thinks his face may actually be glowing.

“Are you a two year old who can’t keep his food in his mouth?” Lance counters. He looks entirely unbothered and Keith wants to strangle him. Who does that. Who, honestly.

“That is not how I wanted your spit near my mouth,” Keith mutters, and immediately wants to open his bayard between his eyes.

Lance stops. A twirling trio of people bumps into him. He does not move. Slowly, his face begins to burn, starting from the sharp jut of his cheekbones and quickly spreading everywhere else. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then narrows his eyes in determination and opens it again.

“Nope,” Keith says before he can say anything. There is no recovery from this. There is only tactical retreat. “I have to – I left my excuse on the castle. I’m gonna go grab it.”

As quickly as he can manage he lets go of Lance’s hand and his waist, gracefully ducking around a dancing couple and high-tailing the hell out of the room. He averts his eyes when he walks by Shiro, praying he doesn’t get stopped, and walks straight out the door. Lance’s calls of his name quickly become faint as he sprints down the hallway.

He can’t believe — God, he said that. Out loud. To Lance’s face. After Lance fucking — licked his thumb and wiped Keith’s face. Like the fussy mother he is.

And Keith is still attracted to him.

He stops in the middle of the hallway, head cradled in his hands, skin hot to the touch.

Fuck, he has a complex.

#i am less happy with this than i wanted to be but i’ve been working on it for hours so time to blow out the candle #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #pining keith #mom friend lance #brown eyed lance #lance & keith #banter #bad flirting #disaster keith #my writing #fic #longpost

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱 ┆ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  ever since the incident, you’ve been avoiding miguel. it’s best to believe he hates you now. miguel goes on a solo mission and almost gets killed.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  angst, tiny fluff (just an ounce), violence, mentions of blood, injuries, swearing, terribly written action scenes (i can’t write action scenes for the life of me)

꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱

it’s been a week since the incident.

a week since his voice rang in your ears.

a week since you last saw him.

a week since you’ve been avoiding him.

you still hate yourself for what you’ve done. how dare you invade his personal space. how dare you to be so ignorant and stupid. you betrayed his trust and look where it’s got you now. it’s best to believe he hates you so, no more visits. not only you avoid him but to any trouble so he doesn’t show up. he probably won’t even save your annoying ass anyways after what you did. he has every right to be upset and angry with you, to avoid you at all costs. you don’t blame him.

since the incident, you’ve been burying yourself into work. the weekends are spent with you working your ass off, barely giving yourself a break. your bed sheets have been barely touched other than going to sleep. your fridge looking depressing like before, lacks of food and drinks. there hasn’t been a chance to stop by the grocery store. that is definitely on your ‘to-do’ list, when you get the chance. although, it’s been raining lately so it’s unclear when you’ll get that chance. eh whatever, you’ll do it anyways.

grabbing an umbrella, you head out the door and walk to the grocery store. luckily at this hour, the rain is merely sprinkling. during the night is when the storm hits. after a quick shopping, you take a trip to the bookstore for a new book to read. you’re already a book lover but you adore reading when it’s raining. it just feels cozy, relaxing. reading in the warmth and comfort of your home while the gentle sounds of rain from outside is so relaxing. the minute you get home, that coffee maker is getting into work.

for once after these two weeks of constant work, you finally take a break. returning home from your little outing, you change into your nightdress with a silky robe and those classic white fuzzy slippers of yours. snuggling in the couch with a mug of coffee in one hand and your new book in the other, you indulge in perfect solitude. you picked out a murder mystery novel this time, one of your favorite genres. plus, it’s a perfect read for this type of weather.

god you need this, relaxation and solitude. this past week really kicked your ass, mainly your fault for putting yourself through it. but now, you can finally relax and just take a break. as you read the first page of the first chapter, you happily sip your coffee, the soft noise of rain smoothing your mind.

a true handmade heaven.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it’s been a week since the incident.

a week since he saw your tearful eyes.

a week since he last saw you.

a week since he fucked up things with you.

god he’s never been depressed like this in a long time. the guilt has been plaguing his entire soul like a damn poison. a filthy substance eating up his heart like it’s a meal displayed on a plate. miguel actually likes your presence, despite the two of you not exactly friends or whatnot. however, he really does miss it. he misses you; a random civilian yet captured his attention. he feels like absolute shit for yelling at you like that. what the fuck is wrong with him? you didn’t deserve that. another mess by his doing.

yes, it was wrong for you to snoop through his private files, especially those files. they are private for a reason. not a single soul to see them other than himself. however, someone else did.

but that doesn’t excused him for how he yelled at you. so vile and vicious to the point there’s tears in your eyes. miguel knows you’re sorry, you’re smart to know your mistakes. he forgives you anyways because he hates for what he did and misses you.

not only this affected his mood but also his job. miguel grew more angrier and impatient which scared some people. majority of the society were unsure why he’s acting like this, but certain members knew the exact reason. peter and jess are worried about him, and you too. with his less tempered demeanor, those two have been keeping a cautious eye on him. they know something happened between you and miguel. your sudden disappearance and miguel’s more aggressive behavior were enough proof. not only those two noticed but the spider teens as well. miles and gwen worry for you. hobie is pissed at miguel for what he did but keeps it to himself, and he also worries for you.

it’s just been a mess at HQ. miguel has been a mess. that’s why he has been partaking in numerous missions to occupy his upset mind. burying himself in work seems reasonable, at least that’s what he tells himself. others, it’s a shitty idea but why argue with a stubborn man? the last thing everyone needs is a more pissed off boss than he already is.

“miguel, it’s late. do you have to go on another mission?” lyla asks, concern laced in her tone.

“the fate of the multiverse depends on it.” miguel doesn’t even take a glance at her, too focused on the orange screens filing his last report before the next.

the ai sadly sighs, shaking her head. “miguel, please. everything is fine. go home and rest. the multiverse will still be intact in the morning.”

“no. i’m shutting you off for the rest of the night.” he states sternly.

lyla looks at the tired man with slumped shoulders and a concern look. “at least bring backup.”

miguel shakes his head. “won’t be necessary. i’ll handle it on my own.” and with that, the ai vanishes by his command and he walks through a portal to his next mission, against his screaming fatigue mind.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

the storm was hitting hard, the occasional thunder and lightning in the night sky. not the ideal situation during a mission but have to endure it in order to get the job done. luckily it’s just one anomaly, a doc ock variant so it should be fairly easy and quick to take care of. exiting the portal, miguel lands on a random rooftop where the anomaly can be seen from a few miles away climbing up buildings with its mechanical tentacles. classic doc ock behavior, he thought. without hesitation, miguel swings after the villain through the harsh rain. a moment of lightening and thunder strikes as he catches up to the anomaly, a badass effect to a chasing scene. as the doc ock variant lands on a rooftop, miguel full blown strikes him down as he collides with the anomaly, causing them to crash onto the ground. the villain groans in pain while miguel swiftly stands up to his feet and starts attacking like it was a normal thing for him.

the villain acts quickly by blocking miguel’s attempts with his tentacles. the tall hero uses his webs as an attempt to capture the anomaly but fails when one tentacle cuts it off in one slice, earning a grunt from the hero. miguel manages to block and avoid doc ock’s swings until, due to his lack of spidey sense, a harsh hit to the back of his head causes him to fallback to the ground in pain. a loud groan of pain and anger escapes his lips. a mischievous yet evil chuckle fills his ears as miguel tries standing back up despite the pain in the back of his head.

“failed to see that coming, spider-man?” the doc ock variant teased, smirking mischievously.

the beaten up hero heavily grunts in response. “i’ve had a enough of you, doc.” and with that, miguel swings into action once again. a full blown battle.

the brawl between the two continues on, both practically drenched at this point. loud grunts and groans echoed in the air, mixing with the pouring sound of the rain. miguel suffered several punches and scratches. he is a panting mess now, chest heaving rapidly and fists clenching.

this is definitely one of the toughest missions he’s done. well, it’s a solo mission which he has done a several times but this time is a challenger. the rain doesn’t help much so that was one reason.

while too focused on what’s in front of him, miguel didn’t notice the spear sticking out from one tentacle aiming for his back. it slices through his back, cutting a layer of flesh, causing the hero to groan loudly and hunch over in pain. that serves as the final straw. using all his strength, miguel fights back until one punch to the face strikes the anomaly down in utter defeat. finally, the son of a bitch is captured.

restraining the villain in his webs like a cocoon, miguel sends him back to HQ. feeling utterly exhausted and in pain, the beaten up spider-man 2099 stand still as the rain pours down on him, the droplets bouncing off his broad shoulders. by command, his mask disappears, revealing his beaten up face. visibly bruising and scratch marks, a few strands of wet hair stick to his forehead. sweat and blood mixed with the droplets of rain on his skin. he tries catching his breath, or at least attempts to, but the agonizing sensation on his back makes him wheeze a little. what a fucking fight.

after a few moments of solitude in the rain, he jumps off the building and swings away. instead of heading back to HQ like he normally does after completing a mission, he heads to someplace else. of course the pain isn’t making him think straight but miguel doesn’t really give a shit. as he continues swinging from one building to another, he lands on a familiar rooftop which is across a familiar apartment building. a visible warm light shines in one specific apartment that he knows certainly well. without hesitation, he swings over and lands on the balcony, making a soft thud in the process. scanning inside with those ruby eyes, miguel finds you on your couch reading a book with a blanket covering you and your dog beside you.

how peaceful and relaxed you look. how deeply invested you are in whatever you’re reading. the occasional gentle pets you give daisy while reading, your eyes never leaving the page. but most importantly, how enthralling you look. seems like you’ve been okay since he last saw you. well, that’s probably false but at this moment, you look content.

that’s when it hit; how much he missed you. finally seeing you in the flesh, and not on monitors, made his heart flutter. the guilt creeps in his already broken and aching body once again. miguel just stands there completely mesmerized by your soft, peaceful presence, ignoring how drenched he is by the rain. honestly, he doesn’t give a shit. your tranquil nature takes his mind away from the rain and pain.

the broken spider-man just stands there like a complete fool mesmerized by an angel.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 6)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan and YFN were comfortably spread out on the couch, an array of snacks laid out on the blanket they were sharing. YFN hadn’t told Jordan about her interaction with Lucy yet, and she was a little worried about doing so. The last thing she wanted was for Jordan to feel like she was less important. She still had no idea what was happening, and the fact that she was just on a spontaneous holiday sat in the back of her mind, but she kept it back there. She didn’t have a job or worries, she knew that she might meet people along the way who would be meaningful in her life. She was already so close to Jordan that she couldn’t imagine being back across the other side of the world from her, let alone whatever she had with Lucy. Was Lucy just looking for a quick fuck because she knew YFN was only here for 2 weeks? She ignored that thought, knowing that whatever was happening between them was far more than just a casual fling. But was it even possible to have more? And did they both want that?

She internally groaned. She hated overthinking things, it just wasn’t her. She was much more care-free than that. She happily pushed all of those thoughts aside and reminded herself of her motto. Whatever happens, happens. As long as she maintained respect for herself and those involved, she would happily be involved in whatever this was with Lucy.

Jordan nudged her foot as she texted. “Luce said the dinner party’s done and she has some gossip. Would you mind if she comes over?”

Yes, please. “Not at all.”

“Excellent. She’ll be here in 5.”

The restaurant was much further away than that, so she knew Lucy must have already been on her way. Oh, she was excited.

Five minutes later, Lucy knocked and entered without permission. Jordan didn’t seem phased, this must have been a common thing with them. Lucy found them in the living room looking quite comfortable on the couch.

“How’s the food poisoning?”

“I think all of these snacks have made it worse, to be honest.” YFN laughed.

Lucy’s eyes widened at the amount of snacks covering the two. Jordan saw this and defended them. “Don’t judge us, we’re feeling our emotions.”

Lucy laughed and gave a little leap over the couch to sit on YFN’s free side. She kicked her shoes off and YFN lifted the blanket they shared, pulling it to cover Lucy’s legs also. Lucy loved the thoughtfulness and stretched her legs out. Jordan threw a few different snacks over to Lucy.

“Are these sad or happy emotions?” Lucy asked.

“A bit of both,” YFN shrugged. “Subject to change with your gossip.”

“Ah,” Lucy didn’t have much gossip. She really just wanted an excuse to be around her. “Well.. when you left Leah asked me a few questions. She wanted to know who YFN was and where you were from, whether you two were in a relationship-” her finger gestured to the two of them.

“-wait,” Jordan cut her off. “She was jealous?”

“Mmn.. maybe a little to be honest. And protective.”

Jordan scoffed. “She has no right!”

“Oh I know, but feelings don’t just disappear that quickly…” Her extended foot touched YFN’s under the blanket which caused her body to flinch but Lucy noticed she didn’t move away. Jordan didn’t notice. “She still cares for you, Jords. You know that. She was upset, she just wants to talk to you. From our conversation she seems to miss your friendship.”

Jordan was quiet.

“You know you miss her friendship also,” YFN said softly as she leant over to squeeze Jordan’s hand.

“Argh yeah, you’re right, I do… but YFN and I have been talking a lot and I think I just need my space. I can’t give her what she wants right now.”

Lucy nodded. “Maybe you should tell her that..”

“Well I planned to tonight but I just couldn’t. She took me by surprise when she came over and I wasn’t ready.”

“Maybe… maybe it would be easier to text? Face to face is better but I think she’ll understand a text, Dory.”

Jordan sighed and nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same to be fair. Can you help me?”

“You mean can I do it all and you proof-read?” YFN chuckled. “Anything for you.”

Jordan gave an exaggeratingly toothy grin and tossed her phone over with a loud air smooch. YFN wrote out a message she thought would be sufficient. Lucy watched her little face concentrating as she quickly wrote.

Leah: Hey, I really appreciate you trying to have a chat with me tonight, and I’m sorry I wasn’t really responsive. I’m not going to throw all of my baggage onto you, but you need to know the basics. The truth is that I really haven’t been doing well after losing you and then deciding I had to leave Arsenal. Being left off the England Squad was the nail in the coffin for me. I played tough but it hit me harder than I realised, harder than anything has, really. I will always love you, you’re an incredible human being and an even better friend. I did hear what you were saying tonight and appreciate that you want us to be friends, but I just can’t give that to you right now. I don’t have the capacity. I’m working on myself and will continue to do so. I hope when I’m a bit more healed and feeling like myself that you’ll still want to be friends and we can go back to that. I miss our friendship.

I’m sorry I couldn’t say all of this to you tonight, I’ll admit I chickened out.

Take care of yourself Leah x

YFN read out the message to them both. God, she was good with words, Lucy thought.

Jordan also seemed impressed. “Can you add ‘I’m really lucky to have some good friends around me’ please? She’ll worry otherwise. Well, she’ll worry regardless but it’ll make her feel better.”

YFN nodded and added it in. She gave the phone back to Jordan who sent the message, then took a deep breath and threw her phone to the other end of the couch.

“I’m really proud of you, Jords,” Lucy stated softly. The emotion in her voice was evident. YFN didn’t like seeing Lucy upset and she brushed the back of her hand up against Lucy’s under the blanket. They both twitched at the contact and then hesitantly hooked pinkie’s together. They both smiled and relaxed.

“Thanks Luce,” Jordan said, tired. “I feel so much better already.”

The trio sat silently and continued watching their movie. With the stress of that burden now eased off her, Jordan fell asleep in minutes, her little body curled up in the corner of the couch, her mouth slightly open. The other two were very aware that their feet and pinkie’s were still touching.

“Can we talk?” Lucy whispered to avoid waking Jordan. Her head was leaning back on the couch and she was staring at YFN like she had been for the past few minutes. YFN had been too involved in the movie to notice. She broke her eyes away and found Lucy’s face. Lucy’s face was welcome sight and she had a very vulnerable look in her eyes.

“Sure… this is my favourite movie. Do you like it?” She whispered, cheekily avoiding a deeper conversation.

“The Taming of the Shrew?”

YFN’s eyes lit up. “Most people don't know that it’s loosely based off Shakespeare. I’m impressed. You must be a hopeless millennial romantic like me.”

Lucy just grinned, watching her get so excited about a movie.

“Plus, how attractive is Heath Ledger in this, hm?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow in question at her attraction to a man.

YFN grinned back cheekily. “Hey, I can admire a pretty person. Plus he’s from Perth in Western Australia, just like me.”

Lucy reached out with her free hand and touched the little dimple on her cheek gently. It was the complete opposite of the aggressive Lucy she’d seen on the pitch.

“I love this.”

YFN’s breathing started getting ragged and she had to blink and suck in a deep breath. Lucy grinned at the impact she had on her. YFN gestured to her grin. “And I love that.”

They spoke at the exact same time then.

“I want to get to know you be-”

“We acted on lust.”

Lucy was surprised but she nodded. “Yes, we did. Can you blame us?”

“No.. not really. I think it was more my fault than yours.”

“Ohhhh no. No, you’re not taking any blame for that. You can give that blame to me, or we can share it. I was flirting with you all night.”

“I know..” she whispered. “I liked it.”

Lucy took a risk and moved her hand to entangle their fingers completely. YFN covered the back of Lucy’s hand with her second one and pulled it onto her lap. Lucy sucked in a breath. She wanted to feel her, taste her, make her moan and cry and call her name. She pushed the thought aside and cleared her throat.

“I’m only here for another week and a half.”

“Jords said you were a writer? You can write, and travel. You can write, and stay. We can explore… this. I know it’s selfish of me to even ask but I have contracts in England and Spain.”

“I’ve never been to Spain.”

“You’ll love it, and you’ll love Narla.”

“Narla?”

“My little fur baby. She’s a Westie.” Lucy looked like a proud mum.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I want to meet her.”

“Spain is great,” she continued. “Tapas, good food, relaxed vibe, we’re down at the beach most mornings or evening watching the sunrise or sunset.”

“I miss good beaches.” She stroked the back of Lucy’s hand with her thumb.

“Well, they’re not ‘Australia good’ but they they’re pretty decent.”

“To be honest Lucy, I have no idea what I’m going to do. Dory and I get along so well, and I know she has other friends, but I feel like she’s leaning on me a bit at the moment and needs me. So I can’t see myself leaving soon anyways.. I want to just stay and be there for her, you know? Plus Birmingham sounds interesting.”

Lucy nodded slowly, thinking. “Well that’s much closer than you going back to Australia. There’s an airline that does direct from Birmingham to Barcelona and it’s quite cheap also.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a bit..”

Lucy gave a sheepish shrug. “Hopeless millennial romantic, remember?”

They smiled and played with each other’s hands, leaning towards each other.

“We have no idea what this is..” YFN sounded unsure.

Lucy wanted to reassure her and so she opened herself up. “You’re right, we have no idea what this is. All I know is that I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve been thinking about you, and even dreaming about you since we first met. And I’m so thankful that you and Jordan are friends so that I get to see you. I want us to explore this.. whatever it is. I want to see where this goes, because I haven’t felt this in a long time – no… scratch that - I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, and I want so much more.” YFN was staring at her with a vulnerable, empathetic expression, her lips partially parted. Lucy continued. “I want so much more now, I wanted so much more when I met you, and I definitely wanted so much more in that bathroom.”

YFN’s pupils dilated and she could feel herself getting excited. She squirmed in her seat and felt her cheeks redden. Lucy noticed this and felt YFN’s hands press hers down further, closer to her core as she stroked her hand a bit more nervously. She assumed that YFN didn’t know she had done this as she could see her thinking hard.

Lucy leant over to her and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking..”

YFN sighed. “You’ve been really honest with me, and so I’ll be really honest with you. I don’t think I’ve ever been this attracted to someone in my life so I’m struggling to even think at the moment.” Lucy chuckled and felt proud of herself. “My main concern is that I don’t want Dory to be hurt or put out.”

Lucy squeezed her hand in reassurance. “She’s one of my best mates. I’ll have a chat to her in the morning, okay?”

“A gentle chat, please.” She pleaded with her blue eyes. “If she’s at all put off or uncomfortable-”

“-then I’ll let you know and we’ll go from there.” Lucy finished. “So.. let’s have a date then, shall we? Tomorrow night?”

“I’m not sure if I can spend a night with you without lust taking over.”

“What’s the problem with that? We can save the drive and have a date at my house instead. I’ll cook.” Lucy knew it was cheeky but worth a try.

Lucy watched YFN roll her eyes but genuinely stop to think about it. She squirmed again and Lucy loved it.

“What time..?”

#engwnt #jordan nobbs #lionesses #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #womens football #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer

[heavyhitterheaux]

Forever My Ariel

Gifs not mine

AN: Don't ever let people discourage you from making your dreams come true and if you haven't seen The Little Mermaid, go see it!

Synopsis: The trailer has just been released for your first feature film and the secret has finally been revealed. However not everyone is happy that you were chosen for the role of Ariel in The Little Mermaid

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Famous!Reader

Always thankful for my loves @hoodharlow and @nattinatalia 💕

Warnings: mention of racism

Jack Harlow Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

As you were scrolling through your timeline on different social media apps, the tears were steadily cascading down your cheeks and hitting your pillow that was covered by a white satin pillowcase.

You were so excited that your trailer for your acting debut had finally gotten released at midnight and you were incredibly proud of yourself. You had stepped out of your comfort zone and got into acting since you were primarily known for singing with your older sister. 

The Little Mermaid had been one of your favorite movies growing up and now that you had an opportunity to play her was a dream come true. Even though you did have to audition for the role, they approached you first telling you that they wanted for you to play Ariel. 

Then seeing you sing Part of Your World had everyone’s mind set.

They had found their Ariel. 

What you didn't expect was the backslash and people being up in arms simply because….

You were a black woman

Even though Ariel is a fictional character and also a mermaid who everyone knew not to be real, they didn’t mean the outrage was any less.  

One of the top trends on social media was 'Not My Ariel' and of course after you saw it, you had been crying ever since.

At midnight you had sent your boyfriend the trailer to watch on your instagram and he couldn’t stop saying how proud he was of you and now you were thinking that you might not have made the right decision regarding the role.

It was now later in the day and Jack was rehearsing for his upcoming CHTKMY tour and he was due to be back at your condo at any minute and the last thing that you wanted for him to see was you being upset.

You tried to wipe your face as best as you could when you suddenly heard the front door open.

“Shit.” You muttered and you knew that it was too late.

“Babe, where are you? Did you eat yet? I’m starving. Did you want…” Jack immediately stopped talking as he came into the bedroom and saw your tear stained cheeks and you furiously trying to wipe them away. 

“Um, no I didn’t. I’ll eat whatever you order. I don’t really feel like cooking anything tonight.” You said while shrugging and he immediately came over to you.

“Now you know you can’t hide those tears from me so what happened and how can I do my best to help fix it?” Jack asked as you were now sitting up and he quickly slid you onto his lap.

“It’s silly, baby. Don’t worry about it.” You answered trying to reassure him, but you knew deep down that he wasn’t having it. 

“It’s not silly if it has my girl upset.” Jack replied while kissing your cheek but all you did was shake your head.

All you did was sigh in response and you quickly went to lay your head on his shoulder and without warning, the tears started all over again.

“Baby, the last thing I want is to see you cry and you know that.”

You simply opened Twitter and handed him your phone so he could see the trending topics.

He immediately clicked on ‘Not My Ariel’ and began to scroll looking at the phone in disbelief at what people were saying about you.

“Why? Why are people so mean?” It almost came out as a whisper and Jack’s heart was breaking seeing you so upset.

“Because they have nothing else better to do. This doesn’t change anything, babe. I know you’re upset with good reason but the movie is finished and I know from the trailer that you did a damn good job and no one else they would’ve picked would’ve come close. Fuck them.”

“I worked my ass off for this.”

“I know and they can never take away how incredibly talented you are because everyone sees it. You’re amazing at what you do and people being racist fucks are never going to change that. And since when are mermaids based on real people? They could’ve made you blue and people would still find a reason to be upset and I would have still watched that shit.”

“Baby, this isn’t Avatar.”

“You get what I mean!”

“I do and I.. thank you for always being there for me when I need it.” You said while smiling up at him. 

“And you know that’s never going to change. I just…. It’s easier said than done but do not let them win. You’re letting them win by you allowing them to get you upset and that’s the last thing that we want or need. You’re amazing in your own right and no trending topic on Twitter is going to tell me otherwise. My baby is the shit and she’s everyone’s Ariel and I’ll kick anyone’s ass who disagrees with me.”

“I just… want everyone to love my performance in this just as much as I do.”

“And they will and I’m going to need for you to stop worrying what people think about you all the time. If you know that you did your best that is literally the only thing that matters. Haters are always going to be there, but while you’re over here making millions, what is their ass doing but sitting at home and hating from a social media app?”

“That’s true.” You said while nodding your head and agreeing with him.

“For now, I’m keeping your phone because the last thing I want is for you to be scrolling looking at unnecessary outta pocket shit that people are saying.”

“But what if….”

“No, if it’s something important I’ll give it back to you, but other than that no. We’re ordering food and having a movie night and no social media.” Jack was soothingly rubbing your back as you tried to scoot yourself closer to him if that was even possible.

“I want chinese and what are we watching?”

“The Little Mermaid of course and anything my baby wants, she gets.”

“Fine, but I’m singing the entire time.” You said while finally smiling up at him.

“Oh, so I get early access?”

“You always get early access, just don’t tell anyone because they might get jealous.” You answered while leaning over to kiss him and pinching his cheek.

—

It was now premiere night and you were extremely nervous and kept fiddling with your dress trying to smooth away any imaginary wrinkles that might be there.

Jack noticed and quickly went up to you and grabbed both of your hands to get you to stop.

“It’s going to be fine, baby. Remember what I told you.”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up at any minute.” You said while feeling extremely overwhelmed and your eyes were starting to brim with tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Breathe for me and relax. I’m right here and I will be here with you the entire time. I’m not leaving your side for the entire night.”

“Promise? I… I….”

“Shhh…. I promise, baby. You got this. Now everyone is about to see why you were the perfect person for this role and no one else. Take some deep breaths for me.”

You did as you were told as you heard Jack taking deep breaths with you and you could feel that your heart rate was now finally starting to slow down. You focused on your breathing and holding Jack’s hands to help ground you as he massaged small circles on yours.

This was something that he always did for you when you were nervous before an event.

Jack knew how your anxiety was and his priority was always making sure you were okay. 

“I love you, you know that right?” Jack asked you and you couldn’t help but to immediately smile at him.

“I love you too, more than I can put into words.”

“You feel any better?”

You simply nodded and smiled as you reached up to hug him and he quickly embraced you back and leaned down to give you several kisses. 

“I just… I know I say it all the time but I love you so much and the way you support me is just…”

“Oh no, babe Deidre is going to kill me if I make you cry because of how long it took for her to do your makeup. You can cry after! But you do the exact same thing for me. We’re always going to show up and support each other no matter what.”

“Always, nothing about that is going to change.”

“Now come on so I can sing all the songs and give a Grammy winning performance. Been waiting months for this!” Jack said and you immediately laughed as he took your hand and the two of you began to make your way downstairs in order to head to the theater where the premiere was being held. 

As promised, Jack didn’t leave your side for the entire night and would give your hand occasional squeezes to let you know he was there for whatever you needed him for. 

“Now it’s time for people to see why you’re forever going to be my Ariel.” Jack whispered to you once the two of you were finally settled in your seats and the movie was getting ready to play. 

Jack held your hand the entire time just like he promised and would periodically look over at you and smile

He was amazed at how well you did, but not surprised

He knew that you had it in you from the very beginning

When the credits of the movie started rolling, you were startled by everyone erupting in applause and giving you a standing ovation as you made your way up to the stage to say a few words. 

You couldn’t help but to cry looking out at the crowd and seeing how so many people were supportive of you and that they love it just as much as you did.

When the applause finally died down, you were doing your best to hide your tears before you spoke.

“I… I knew I was going to cry but damn. Just… thank you.” You said and heard laughter while you finally wiped away the rest of your tears.

“Words cannot even form a sentence of how grateful I was for this opportunity and so many amazing people had a hand in making that happen. I’m so happy that Disney trusted me along with everyone involved in the cast and crew to make Ariel come to life and I just want everyone to love this film as much as I loved making it. Never let anyone deter you from making your dreams become a reality. I remember being little and seeing the original film for the first time and now look, twenty something years later and I get to bring her to life on the big screen. I’m not just Ariel for some people and not others, and my boyfriend had to tell me that. I am everyone’s Ariel and I am so damn proud of stepping out of my comfort zone and letting little girls who look like me know that they can do this too.” 

Liked by jackharlow, neelamthadhani, lolabroke, latto777, dojacat, champagnepapi, urbanwyatt, theshaderoom, and 6,870,921 others

yourinstagramname: always thankful that you get to be a part of my world and me in yours 💕

jackharlow: forever and always. so proud of you. you did amazing just like I knew you would.

yungmiami305: bitch you made me cry when I watched it even if I knew what was going to happen lol

neelamthadhani: job well done! I knew they picked the perfect person for this role!

maggieharlow: you were a literal dream the entire time. you didn't just play Ariel. YOU ARE ARIEL.

urbanwyatt: I see Jack is dressed like the ocean and ready to dive in yourinstagramname 😏

yourinstagramname: urbanwyatt you are always so outta pocket, I CANNOT but yes. I agree lol

yourinstagramename: thank you so much everyone, you have no idea how much this means to me

See all 201,829 comments

Liked by yourinstagramname, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, dualipa, icespice, lildurk, teyanataylor, and 4,823,031 others

jackharlow: Forever My Ariel 💕

yourinstagramname: jackharlow loveee you now how many times have you watched the movie? lmao

urbanwyatt: yourinstagramname this might be number six

jackharlow: not the both of you shaming me. my baby did amazing 🥰

urbanwyatt: and keeps asking me to refill the snacks so he can continue

neelamthadhani: urbanwyatt I'm joining so bring me some popcorn too

urbanwyatt: neelamthadhani imma start charging yall asses for this. I am making one more trip and that's it!

druski2funny: why didn't anyone invite me to the party?

yourinstagramname: druski2funny because you don't like to answer your phone

druski2funny: yourinstagramname but I'm here now!

jackharlow: druski2funny your ass is about to be late to your own funeral

See all 110,927 comments

Liked by jackharlow, claybornharlow, yoursistersinstagramname, theshaderoom, latto777, lolabrooke, neelamthadhani, and 4,126,720 others

yourinstagramname: this is what a mermaid named Ariel looks like 😘

jackharlow: you got damn right and I don't wanna hear any negative shit! my baby did that!

lolabrooke: don't play wit her, don't play wit her

yoursistersinstagramname: my little mermaid 😍

yournamesource: forever our Ariel!!

yourbestfriend: she did what needed to be done and left no muthafuckin crumbs!

yournamesource: I need a sequel and idc what that shit is about. we just need to see you on the big screen more.

yourinstagramname: yournamesource something is getting revealed soon lol stay tuned

See all 461,780 comments

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@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

@a-moment-captured

@jackmans-poison

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction

[bokutooooo]

Dream Ride PT 4 ᰔᩚ

warnings: strong language! violence (very little)

The drive was quiet, I’m not sure why but I was trying to avoid starting any conversation. “You gonna buy a new car soon? Since you finished the last one”

I let out a small laugh “I just finished Nissan Skyline GT-R, don’t get me wrong I liked working on it but that was a lot.” he just smiled and went back to looking at the road. Tonight was pretty quiet in the city, well quiet for Tokyo at least.

We pulled up to the convenience store Sean and Neela arriving a minute later.

“I think I’m just gonna get a Gatorade and some chips, what about you” Neela and I were just walking up and down some aisles while Sean and Han waited outside. “I’m not sure, kind of craving a slushy right now, or a Redbull I need to study tonight and I definitely don’t have the energy for it” we were walking to the cash register when DK and Morimoto stopped stopped in front of us.

“Y/n! my favourite slut. Who are you screwing now?” Me and Morimoto hooked up here and there for a few months but after I cut things off he got upset and now I guess I’m a slut for it. “Oh shut up Morimoto you’re just mad she stopped seeing you, get over it” it never really felt good being called a slut by the guy you used to be friends with never mind fuck. “Neela where’ve you been? You were supposed to come over tonight.”well shit, they probably saw Sean out front but I’m hoping they didn’t.

“Change of plans me and Y/n are hanging out” DK was annoying but not stupid he knows Neela and Sean are “hanging out”. “Just leave us alone DK we’re just grabbing snacks than leaving” I don’t even know why I bothered asking, why would he listen to me “this has nothing to do with you Y/n, why don’t you go screw Han”.

Great “oh? Han? that’s new don’t you think he’s a bit old for you? Or is that just the daddy issues.” I haven’t intended to tell Morimoto about my family problems but a couple of times I had went over upset about it and told him some things I obviously shouldn’t have.”Fuck you Mori” I shoved through them pulling Neela with me to the cash trying to check out as quick as possible. “Where you going huh? Why don’t you come over” I just wanted to leave.

we were speed walking down the street to where Han and Sean were parked, Morimoto and DK following close behind “Fuck off Mori! go home!” I could see Han’s back. God I wanted Han to beat the shit out of him.

“Oh come on! Don’t you wanna come home with me” I could just hear the grin on Morimoto face. Han must’ve heard the shouting because he was quick to turn around Sean closely behind and heading straight for Morimoto.

“What happened!? Are you alright?!” Why couldn’t they just leave us alone, we wanted nothing to do with them. “They’re just being assholes! Won’t leave us alone.”

“Alright just go in the car, we’ll talk to them” even though Neela came with Sean, I pulled her into the backseat of Han’s car and patiently waited for him to tell us they were gone.

HAN’s POV

“Fuck off Morimoto, nobody wants any problems so why start them.”

“Just curious.. are you fuckin’ er? Just so you know she’s slept with all of Tokyo, have fun with your sloppy seconds.”

god what a fucking prick. “Fuck off Morimoto go home, and not that it’s any of your business but I’m not sleeping with her. Now go home”

I turn around and walk to the car, I mean who does the is asshole think he is.

“Hey you guys alright? Sorry you had to deal with those two.” Y/n and Neela were sitting in the backseat obviously scared “Yeah we’re fine, he’s just such a dick we were just buying snacks when they randomly showed up and started following us around.” I felt bad, Y/n didn’t deserve this bullshit Morimoto was just a dick.

Y/N’s POV

Han was driving me home, I’m sure he could tell I was tired and upset “Sorry about tonight, don’t let the shit Morimoto says get to you”

“Yeah for sure” I know it’s not Han’s fault but I’m just so angry and frustrated right now I can’t even think. Luckily we stop in front of my house and I’m quick to get out “Thanks for the ride Han, see you later”

“Wait Y/n! Are you sure you’re okay? Wanna talk about it?” I sighed “I’m fine just tired trust me, have a goodnight.”

SORRH FOR THE LATE POST I TRIED TO MAKE IT AS LONG AS I COULD. Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to DM me suggestions or requests!

#tokyo drift #x reader #cars #drifting #fast and furious #han lue x reader #movie #street racing #sung kang #writeblr

[sin-djarin]

Private and Confidential I

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: M (for now). This blog is 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You're less than enthusiastic about being assigned to a new case without any forewarning. Maybe your new partner could change your mind?

Chapter summary: Already upset at the idea of switching divisions, you're forced to recall a memory from last summer.

Chapter warnings: No use of y/n, no physical description of reader (wearing of heels mentioned), swearing, mention of food and alcohol consumption, my spelling and grammar probably.

A/N: I have absolutely taken liberties with this despite research but it's fiction right? Lets see where this takes us. Setting the scene here and it's likely to be the longest chapter.

“The briefing starts in five minutes. I suggest you get to boardroom C”

“Sir, I-“ you start but can’t get your words out.

You stay seated as your director stands from his own large leather chair, cutting off any attempt at defence you might try to make. The decision had been made and deep down you knew it. There had been no prior consultation, no emails, no phone calls to discuss. You had just been assigned to this case whether you liked it or not. He walks to hold the door to his office open for your impending exit before dismissing you with a flat “good day agent”.

It’s a hurried dash back to your desk to pick up a notepad and a pen before starting the short walk to the boardroom. Even if you weren’t, you thought it wise to make it look like you were interested despite being far from it. Art crime wasn’t your area. You thought it to be too slow. Rarely is someone in immediate danger, there’s no adrenaline high or satisfaction from potentially saving a life.

Regardless, you take a seat in the dimly lit boardroom at the long oval table, another director on one side, you and three other agents on the other. A large flat screen hangs on the wall at one end of the table with slides ready to be presented along with the case number. Seeing slide 1/52 in the bottom left of the screen slashes away the enthusiasm you walked into the building with this morning.

The sudden opening and closing of the glass door steals your attentions away from jotting down the reference number. A final agent quickly enters and takes a seat at the very end of the mahogany table and apologises for his late arrival.

The director begins to get into the specifics of the case. Art fraud…or forgery, you’re not sure because it’s only seconds before you find yourself tuning out. All of your fellow agents are busy writing down details. Especially the one who barely made it. Even in the darkened room, the slides behind him illuminate his familiar side profile. He’s completely enthralled, his hands can’t write fast enough as he eagerly nods along to lists of suspects, places, and times with a frown and pursed lips.

Fuck.

There it is. The same guilt that bubbled underneath your skin last summer starts to stir again and you soothe your brow at the feeling before being thrown back to that day.

Everyone else had physically clocked out at five but mentally clocked out at around two. There was a buzz throughout the entire floor since the morning. Excitement to close cases and relax for an evening - to remind yourself that it’s just work.

Most of your colleagues left to go home and change out of blazers and ties, swapping them for flowy sun dresses and polo shirts. You managed to change your heels for a pair of sneakers that you kept under your desk. When you were locking your drawer, Marcus was still hunched over his own, three rows over from yours, chewing on his fingers and practically begging his computer monitor to make two plus two equal four. But you let him and his multitude of empty coffee cups be and went to celebrate with everyone else. He hadn’t so much as touched the pastry you left on his desk that morning as you passed by.

You didn’t bother going home, you rode the bus the couple of miles to your co-worker’s house and a glass of homemade sangria was placed in your hand before you even had time to say hello.

As the sun set, your plate kept being piled high with all sorts of meat and side dishes and your glass continued to be refilled. Each time, it pulled the smile higher on your cheeks. Somewhere between glass two and three, Marcus finally showed up. You were the only two still in office attire though he chose to remove his tie and badge. He kept a close circle with some of the other art crime agents, sipping on a Coke as the people around him knocked back bottles of beer. You only caught some “this is good man’s” while he patted your host on the back for their efforts. Meanwhile you were stuck with your own small crowd discussing salad dressings.

You remained separate from one another the entire time that you were there. You never did get to ask about what kept him so late. Around 8.30 you decided to call it a night. You weren’t young enough to survive a sugar induced hangover anymore, so you said your goodbyes and turned down any more replenishments and intended on getting back on the bus.

That’s when he caught you walking cautiously down the gravel covered driveway.

“Leaving?” he asked.

“I am” you grinned at him, giddy on sun and sangria.

“I can give you a ride?” he offered, holding up his car keys.

“No, no. I got this” you tried to assure him but subconsciously, you were holding onto the gate for support and he noticed.

“Please. I insist. I was leaving myself”

He convinced you in the end and drove you to your apartment building. Fumbling to get out with your purse and belongings, he lent you a hand, held the door open for you and made sure you had everything. Before he closed it, he reached to get something from the glovebox and handed you a small bottle of Advil.

“You’re too much, Pike. Too soft” you giggled.

His head fell to look at his feet. You were still sober enough to realise he was crestfallen instantly.

“Okay, well. You get inside safe. Should probably keep those by your bed. You never know, y’know?” he chuckled half heartedly.

You never said goodnight. Never said thank you. You lost all your manners because you were too busy insulting the nice guy before turning on your heels to leave him on the curb.

You intended on apologising. It was top of your to-do list on Monday but the pills he gave you couldn’t do anything for the guilt that had plagued you over the weekend.

An office reshuffle the following week put you over the other side of the building. Instead of being a few cubicles away from him and art crime you were planted right beside international terrorism. There, you were walls and windows apart rather than a few feet.  The most you saw of him was a passing glance on the way to separate meetings, but he still smiled politely despite your inebriated words.

Your own cases ramped up to the point you were out of the office more than you were in it, rounding up confidential informants took up most of your days. The next thing you knew he left for California, and it seemed like the moment was gone. You thought he might have stayed there because you hadn’t seen him until now.

And he looks different. Sitting feet away from you once again. Lit from behind by the white slides wiping across the screen, he’s let his facial hair grow out and his hair isn’t quite as neat as you remember but he still wears the same excitement about a fresh case as he did when they came his way.

Regret follows the guilt; it drowns out everything that’s being discussed around you. The distance made it easier to stave off the memory.  You could have sent an email, left a note in his cubby, scheduled a meeting in his calendar – anything. Except, selfishly, you didn’t.

The harsh fluorescent lights in the boardroom illuminate, pulling you from your thoughts and the slideshow ends. You do a quick scan of the notebooks to your left and they’re bursting with bullet points compared to your empty pages.

“Agent?” another assistant director speaks in your direction. “I hear you’re taking this case with Agent Pike?”

You clear your throat before nodding a silent yes. You can almost feel Marcus’s eyes boring into the side of your head, but you pay him no mind. It feels like an age before your director calls an end to the briefing and the second he does, you bolt back to your desk, the tips of your heels clacking furiously underneath you.

There, your teeth gnash into your bottom lip, as you weigh up potential outcomes though you didn’t have a beginning point. It would be career development, you think. On the other hand, it could be boring and everlasting. You saw how much time Marcus spent at his desk, hardly ever leaving the building. Your heart sinks at the thought of being deskbound.

There’s chatter about spikes in organized crime happening around you. Some of your old colleagues are giving updates on their current cases, others are hammering keyboards typing up their recent notes – ones you wish your fingers were writing. You can easily muster up some suggestions for them but not for yourself. Should they ask what you’re working on, you have exactly nothing to tell them. And it’s that that raises you from your chair on a mission to find your new partner.

The level you both call home, is all gray-coloured marble, stainless steel and glass. The only pops of colour come from the muted blue partitions that separate white lacquer desks. You wander aimlessly for a few minutes, around mazes of bullpens and corridors, squinting at individual office doors in an attempt to find him. Eventually you stop someone and ask where he might be but all you get as a response is a thumb thrown over their shoulder.

It’s vague but it helps. The last corridor has his name written in white font across some black plastic that’s stuck to the door. He’s upgraded to his own office. The lights inside are off but you knock anyway. There’s no answer.

After a deep breath, you start the journey back to your own desk again. It’s not the Monday or even the case you’d hoped to be given – you’ve fallen at the first hurdle in being unable to locate your partner.

Back at your desk, there’s a pink Post-It with three reference numbers. Underneath, a note that reads; Try these – Pike.

It’s cryptic but it’s a start you didn’t previously have. Loading up the database on your computer to pull up the associated file, you type the first into the index field and hit search. Value: Not found. You frown, puzzled by the error message. 

You try the second reference. Value: Not found. The same thing happens on the third one. With a sigh, you try each one once more in case they’re case sensitive. Unsurprisingly they’re not and the error appears another three times. In your experience, that error message meant one thing; the files relating to the reference numbers hadn’t been scanned and digitized.

After lunch and armed with Marcus’s sticky note along with some writing of your own of box and file barcodes you’d found on an old spreadsheet, you head down to the archive in search of the physical copies.

The archive is cold, kept at a certain temperature to preserve and prevent moisture damage but instantly covers your skin in goosebumps. It’s a sprawling room and you're alone in it, not many agents had a reason to visit anymore.

The racks stand tall around you, holding shelves of green banker’s boxes, all of them full to their 55-pound capacity with paper files. Each is clearly marked with a barcode. Going along every shelf is painstaking, trying to match the ten-digit barcodes to the numbers on your pink post it.

The first is on the middle shelf. Pulling it out by its cardboard handle, you heave it out onto the ground and kneel to trawl through the contents to find what you came for. The file itself is heavy, beaten and battered. Up in the top left corner it says 1993 scribbled in ballpoint. Probably one of the first cases of its kind. That still left over ten years for it to be scanned and it wasn’t.

After placing it on the floor, it was onto the next. This one is on the top shelf, and it’s a stretch to reach. Digging it out of the box once it’s on the floor, it’s smaller, fifty pages or less and in worse condition than its predecessor yet there’s a charm in the splashes of coffee on its corners.

Squatting over the box to put the lid back on, the handle of the door slams down and footsteps follow making you jump back to your feet with the file in hand. Being down here by yourself is a health and safety nightmare and to be called out on it is the last thing to add onto an already tougher than expected day.

“Thought I’d find you here” a joyful face appears from behind a rack and he comes to stand beside you.

“Agent Pike” you sigh, relieved that it’s your new partner and not a superior. “You knew these weren’t scanned?”

“I didn’t” he holds his hands up. “It’s luck of the draw, really. They’re in the works, though. Other units have been prioritised” he explains.

“You just knew these cases off hand?”

“Yeah. Guess so” he admits, sheepishly.

An uncomfortable silence creeps into the room. Your thumb flits over the already worn edges of the file you’re still holding, suddenly torn like some of the pages over whether to leave the past behind or to finally apologise.

“Have I done something?” he asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his dark slacks.

“No, I’m sorry. This just isn’t me” you tell him a half truth.

“You ran out earlier and I couldn’t find you“

“I know, I know” you sigh. “Look, Agent-“

“For what it’s worth, I asked your director to let you work this case with me. I saw how you worked with Agent Hill a while back and I thought-“

“What?” you scowl.

“It’s admirable, your work. I thought that we could work well together” he says, eyes soft and honest.

Your own eyes narrow at his words but he’s earnest in what he says. You did work with Agent Hill but he was close to retiring and he let you take the reins. He listened to you, trusted your decisions. He would have no reason not to give you a good review after closing the case as quick as you did. And yet there is a tiny pang of anger that was gearing itself towards Agent Pike - you’re not his to take.

“But if you don’t agree, I won’t hold it against you” he crosses his arms and leans back against the edge of one of the racks, the light pinstripe of his suit distorting across his shoulders before continuing.

“You know, I thought about what you said”

You stare at him confused. You hadn’t broken breath to him since that night; the night you never really forgave yourself for.

“What did I say?” you ask with a shaky voice. The small space you both occupy between the shelving feels as though it's become tiny.

His gaze falls to his shoes, just like it did the night he dropped you off.

“That I should toughen up”

Your eyes shut at his words. In all the days and nights afterwards, you hoped he might have forgotten. But why should he have? Because you still remember every time someone had been condescending towards you from the moment you stepped foot into the academy.

“That isn’t what I meant, Agent Pike. I was…drunk” you whisper.

“No. You were right. I’m better for it. I think” he says and nods, a stern expression paints itself onto his face similar to the one he wore in the boardroom.

“Really, I didn’t mean anything by it. Actually I’ve-”

“What is it?” he cuts you off after coming so close to uttering the words that have been on your mind for so long.

“You don’t think this will be exciting enough for you? I know our filing system isn’t as sophisticated as what you’re used to but-”

“Work doesn’t need to be exciting. Sometimes you just need to get the job done and move on” you tell him hoping that maybe if you said it out loud, you’d start to believe it.

His head tilts to the side and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“What if we can do both of those things? Here. Let me get these” he says, scooping up the file you left on the floor and then striding towards you to take the one from your hand. “I’ll scan them and email you when they’re done. We can start from there”

All you can do is watch as he slowly starts his retreat out of the archive and the cool air that hit you when entered has disappeared. The goosebumps have been replaced by a heat creeping up your back at his musings.

“Think about it” he winks. “I’m sure we both have things we can learn from each other”

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #marcus pike

[hockey-fics]

A Simple Yes - Quinn Hughes

Summary: You truly never believed it would happen, getting pregnant before you were ready. But sometimes the things you don’t expect to happen end up being not so bad after all. 

Word Count: ~1,300

Warnings: Pregnancy

A/N: This was supposed to be way longer. I actually had another 1,500 words written for it but I was struggling to find a logical conclusion at that point so I just shortened it, I’m very sorry if it’s a disappointing ending. 

It wasn’t how you wanted to find out. Alone in the bathroom of your quiet apartment, shaky hands clutching onto a positive pregnancy test. There’s a weight on your chest and you can’t manage to draw a full breath into your lungs. Your staring at the test but it feels like you’re no longer fully there, everything felt distant and fuzzy. With shaking hands you fumble the second test out of the three pack box, taking another test before sitting on the edge of the bathtub. This time after you set the timer on your phone you don’t head to Tik Tok to kill the time. This time you set the phone on the counter, eyes staring at the floor that you realize you should have swept days ago. You couldn’t be pregnant. You couldn’t even manage to sweep the floors in your apartment. How were you supposed to be able to take care of a baby?

Your mind is still racing when the sound of the timer on your phone going off makes you jump. Slamming your hand against your phone you manage to silence the loud ringing, not caring about anything but the lines on the tiny screen of the plastic stick sitting on your counter. Delicately you pick up the test, as if jostling it around would change the results. When your eyes see the double lines your heart starts to beat so hard you begin to worry you might be nearing full on cardiac arrest. 

It’s only a matter of seconds before you toss that test into the sink with the first, ripping the last test of the box like it was your saving grace. You had absolutely no idea how you were able to pee on the third stick in such a short amount of time, but you weren’t upset about it. You go through the now familiar steps, nearly slamming the test on the counter as you set the timer. You repeat the process of spending five minutes worrying about everything and anything that came into your brain before the trilling of your phone breaks you out of it. When you pick up the test you feel your stomach drop, the two pink lines seemed to be taunting you at this point. Normally you were a pretty composed person, but as you throw the test into the sink with the other two all composure leaves your body. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter, leaning into the bathroom counter, a wave of dizziness washing over you. “Fuck,” you repeat, slamming your hand onto the cool granite with a loud smack. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about this. You had been with Quinn for over a year and you had definitely thought about the future, about having a family with him. But that wasn’t supposed to happen for many, many years. You were supposed to be living together and married and have a dog and a picture perfect life together way before this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to be finding this out together and the tears in your eyes were supposed to be from joy and not fear. 

Picking the tests from the sink you carelessly toss them into the garbage, leaving the bathroom for the first time in the last half hour. But you didn’t know what to do now. You couldn’t just text him and tell him you were pregnant, that wasn’t something you casually send to someone. Truly you just wanted a glass of wine to numb the intensity of the feelings but that was off the table now. So you stand in the hallway, staring at the gallery wall of shitty paintings you had made with your friends, each and every one of them created under the influence of alcohol or drugs. You couldn’t be a parent, not with this type of decor. 

You’re standing there, completely still, till your phone vibrates in your hand. It’s a text from Quinn and you feel an immediate wave of nausea. ‘Can’t wait to see you tomorrow’ 

He had been on the road for the last three days. The same number of days that your period was late by. You don’t even know what to say to him as you stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you hope some sort of response would pop into your brain. ‘Me too’ is all you finally manage to think of. Looking at the time you decide that 9:30 was late enough and that it would simply be easiest to put yourself to bed at this point. 

It’s 1:47pm the next day, something you know precisely because you had been watching the clock on the cable box in Quinn’s apartment for the last half hour. You had told him cable was a waste of money since he didn’t watch it but he seemed to think it was just easier to keep paying for it than cancel it. He had given you a key to his apartment a couple months ago, around the same time you had bought a few plants for him for his apartment. You weren’t convinced he really cared enough about the plants to give you a key to be able to water them when he was away, but you weren’t going to question his excuse either. 

You hear the sound of the door open but you don’t say anything, remaining silent and still till Quinn rounds the corner, jumping when he sees you sitting on the couch. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” Quinn chuckles. 

Nodding, you pull your knees even further to your chest. “We need to talk.”

Quinn is silent for a second and you can almost see the thoughts running through his head as he leans his shoulder against the wall. “Okay,” he mutters, voice cold. You weren’t stupid, you knew what he was thinking. That you wanted to break up or you had cheated on him, those were the logical conclusions after what you had just said. 

Your eyes are filling with tears as you stare at him, not having a clue about how to start this conversation. Sure, you had gone through a million and one ways this conversation could go. Yet here you were, ready to pull out any one of those million options and coming up with none. 

“What?” Quinn snaps, arms crossed over his chest and you’re almost certain your assumption was right about what he was thinking now. 

“Quinn,” you begin, voice breaking as your fingernails dig into the denim of your jeans, arms wrapped around your legs. 

“What?” he repeats, shaking his head. “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“No,” you croak, a couple tears dripping from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks, letting them fall onto your t-shirt. 

“You cheated on me?” Quinn pushes. 

Shaking your head you dig your fingers in further, till they were turning white and pain was radiating from your legs. “You know I would never do that.”

“Then what’s going on?” Quinn asks and his voice is softer, dropping his arms from their defensive position over his chest to his sides. 

“I-,” you begin, taking a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything for long enough that you’re nearing the point where you wanted to say something for him. But eventually he does and he’s walking over to you as he does. “Pregnant?” Is all he manages to get out, but at least he’s beside you now, arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “Shit,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “When, um, when did you find out?”

“Last night,” you whisper, your body relaxing the second he has his arms around you. “I took three tests.”

Quinn rubs his hand along your arm before sliding his arm under your legs and pulling them over his lap, desperately trying to get you as close to him as possible. “Okay,” he whispers. “What do you, you know, want to do?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, arms wrapped around him so tight you’re worried you might be hurting him. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be…how I pictured it.”

Quinn doesn’t comment on how hard you were holding onto him, just rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder with his thumb. “Me neither.”

Pulling back suddenly you look into his eyes with surprise. “What do you mean? You’ve pictured this?”

Quinn nods, looking into your eyes. “What do you mean? Of course I have. I’ve told you that…that I want to spend my life with you.”

“I,” you begin, shaking your head as you try to regain some sense of composure. “I thought you were just joking, or saying that to make me happy or something.”

“That’s a really shitty thing to joke about,” Quinn chuckles, receiving a spluttering, surprised laugh from you. “Come with me,” Quinn states, standing up and taking your hands in his. His apartment isn’t that big and you almost immediately realize he’s pulling you into his bedroom. 

“Quinn, I’m already pregnant,” you joke, though you’re truly not sure if you should be joking about it at this point or not. 

Quinn simply shakes his head with a quiet chuckle, pulling open the top drawer of his dresser he rifles through it till he pulls a little box out. Turning around to face you he opens it, showing you the beautiful ring inside. 

“Is that?” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at the ring. 

“Yeah,” Quinn breathes out. “You said you liked a ring one time when were watching TikTok together and I knew one day I was going to ask you to marry me…so I found something like it...I just don’t know why you’re surprised that I’ve thought about this before.”

You’re reaching for the ring when Quinn slams the box shut, pulling it away from you. “No, I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“What?” you whisper, recoiling away from him, a sinking feeling in your chest. 

“Well I am,” Quinn clarifies. “But not now…not like this. You deserve better, you deserve something romantic, something perfect.”

Your eyes are welling with tears again and you can’t take your eyes off of him. “I love you,” you whisper. 

“I love you too,” he says, setting the ring down before placing his hands on your waist. “Do you want to do this?”

“Marry you?” you ask, tears rolling down your face. 

“Well that,” Quinn whispers, wiping away a couple tears from your cheeks. “But also us having a baby, starting a family right now.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, one simple answer to both questions. 

#Quinn Hughes fanfic #Quinn Hughes fic #Quinn hughes #Quinn Hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl one shot #hockey fanfic #Vancouver canucks fic #Vancouver canucks fanfic #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks one shot #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagines

[wishfulwithwine]

sweet girl . nine

Rafe Cameron x Y/N Thorton

Y/N was sick of being the goody two shoes - sick of everyone treating her like an innocent little girl.

How bad could a step on the wild side be?

No one told her how good bad could taste....

WARNINGS: THIS SERIES IS 18+. INVOLVES EXPLICIT/NSFW CONTENT. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF MINOR.

series masterlist

photo from pinterest

“I’m going whether or not I have your permission. They are my friends” You said, annoyed as you packed up a cooler to bring food on the Pogue’s boat. 

After last night’s eventful dinner, Rafe stayed the night at your house, and Sarah came early this morning to join you to get picked up by the Pogues. The boat day had been planned in the group chat this morning as the water was looking to calm to surf but gorgeous weather.

“JJ brings a gun casually around. I don’t think that’s safe for the baby, do you?” Rafe replied, crossing his arms as he stood watching her. “Wouldn’t it be better if you came with me with Kelce and Topper to the club?” 

“No, golfing with you was fun because I could drink, not because I liked spending hours on a course watching you all hit balls on a lawn. I’m going and that’s final” You replied, before looking over to Topper and Sarah, who were casually watching you two bicker. 

Is this what’s to come for the rest of the pregnancy?

“I’ll make sure she’s okay” Sarah said, giving you a comforting smile. Rafe rolled his eyes, raising his eyebrow at his sister questionably. 

“I don’t like it. I don’t like you hanging out with those stupid, dirty pogues, especially carrying my baby” Rafe said, pulling you into his arms into a tight hug. You rolled your eyes, but melted into his arms. Your hormones were driving you insane, and today you were flipping between fucking or fighting. 

“You’re not going to change my mind” you replied, shaking your head stubbornly.

“Not even if I do this?” Rafe teased, kissing your neck as Sarah and Topper both groaned.

“Okay, I’m still getting over the fact that you impregnated my sister, can you not do the PDA in front of me?” Topper groaned, as you giggled, rolling your eyes at your brother.

“I don’t know if I can, Topper” Rafe said, continuing to kiss your neck and face, as you squirmed in his grasp. “I haven’t been able to kiss my girl in public for weeks” 

“Hey! Kie’s here” Sarah said, as there was a knock on the door. 

Well, here goes nothing…

“Go! I’ll talk to you later” You said, getting out of Rafe’s embrace to go get Kie. Physically having to push him away from you, you could hear his grumbles even when you had finally gotten to the door. 

“Hey girl! How are you? Come on in. I’m just packing up a cooler” You said, with a smile, leading her inside.

“Hey! Can’t wait for today. It looks calm out there so it should be a good boat day” Kie said, coming into the kitchen to see everyone. “Oh, hey everyone” She said awkwardly, looking at Sarah and the boys, before turning her attention back to you. 

You hadn’t told Kie yet, and you were going to do that now, before you told the Pogue boys on the boat today… your anxiety was rising with every possible minute.

“Bye Kiara” Topper said, acknowledging her before coming around to you and giving you a quick hug goodbye. Rafe ignored Kie, but hesitated on leaving you without a proper goodbye, staring at you with a knowing glance. He knew you hadn’t told Kie yet, and you were worried about her reaction, but he didn’t want to leave without kissing you.

“Have fun golfing” You nodded at him, catching his eye, nodding for him to leave, and he followed Topper out.

“What was that?” Kie asked confused, but not upset, at the interaction between you and Rafe, as Sarah smiled happily. Kie looked at Sarah’s expression, more confusion evident in her expression.

“Oh, uhm… yea. That was, uhm” You said, getting nervous, as you went back to packing the cooler. 

“Come on! Spit it out! I want to talk to someone about it besides Topper” Sarah blurted, excitedly clapping her hands. Kie looked at both of your very strangely now, and a little hurt she didn’t know before Sarah, considering how close you were. Seeing her hurt, you bit your lip.

“Sorry, Sarah knows because she’s - well I told family first” You said, wringing your hands.

“She’s not family though?” Kie asked confused.

“How do I say this-“ You said, before Sarah interrupted you.

“Her and Rafe are pregnant!” Sarah exclaimed, too excited to hold it in. You sighed, looking at Kie’s gaping face, pressing a finger to your temple, glaring at Sarah. “What you were too slow in saying it” 

“You’re pregnant?” Kie said, shocked, looking directly at you, as you squirmed a bit under her harsh glare.

“Yes, 6 weeks now” You said, rubbing your belly. “Please, please don’t hate me” 

“I don’t hate you, I’m just… shocked? I mean, you slept with Rafe?” Kie asked, before looking to Sarah. “Did you know?” 

“Oh nope. I had no idea they were even together. I found out at family dinner last night” Sarah said. 

“Was this like a one night stand? I mean, were you two together when you and John B…?” Kie asked, and you shook your head.

“No, we were together for like two weeks, broke up that day, then got back together after for Midsummers” You explained.

“It’s so weird but I think he truly loves her” Sarah said. 

“I hope so. You’re carrying his baby. You two are stuck together forever now, regardless if you’re a couple or not” Kie said, and you sighed

“He’s… Rafe. We’ve known each other our whole lives” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“How did your parents take it?” Kie asked.

“Oh they’re thrilled. I swear their goal was for me to marry rich” You said, rolling your eyes, as both girls chuckled.

“I know you two aren’t great friends again still, but I’d appreciate you two getting along for me. This baby is going to need all the love and support it can get, and not just Rafe and I. I need my girls” You said, nervously, looking between the two girls. They both sighed, but ultimately smiled.

“For you, mama bear, always” Sarah said, as they both hugged you tightly.

“I can’t believe bad girl summer turned into baby mama year” Kie teased, and you laughed, as you picked up the cooler, heading off to the dock to wait for the boys to pick you up.

“I can’t believe I can’t drink for nine months” You said.

“How you’re going to put up with Rafe without it, I have no idea” Sarah teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“So how are we telling the boys?” Kie asked, as we watched the HMS Pogue boat come into view.

“I brought a handle of tequila, a handle of rum, and a case of beer” You said, as Kie shook her head, chuckling.

“Hello girls!” JJ shouted, waving his hands at you, getting the cooler and helping you all into the boat.

“Thanks JJ” You replied, as you greeted everyone, and you all went off to the marsh to chill. It was only a few minutes before the boat was anchored in a relaxing quiet spot.

“Got the good stuff in there?” John B asked, looking at the cooler. You shared a look with Kie.

“She got some good stuff in there alright” Kie said, as the guys looked at her weird before opening up the cooler

“Holy shit! Now we’re talking” Pope said, as JJ pulled out the handles.

“What are we celebrating?” John B asked, a smile on his face, but as the guys looked at the three of you, they noticed that there was nervous energy, coming from you especially.

“What did you do?” Pope asked, concern on his face.

“Well…” You said biting your lip as you looked to the girls for support.

“Do I have actually say it this time again?” Sarah said, chuckling and you shook your head.

“Let’s just say, no more drinking for the next nine months” You said, and the boys were shocked.

“Holy shit, is it mine?” John B asked, almost terrified, looking over at Sarah who just chuckled, shaking her head.

“Nope, it’s my brothers” Sarah said, and it felt like a switch activated.

“What the actual fuck? Rafe fucking Cameron? The Kook king?” JJ said, angry. 

This is what you were expecting…

“Are you two like together?” Pope asked, his face still in shock.

“Yes, but he won’t come here unless you guys want him to, I promise” You said.

“Shit” John B said, looking at you, his eyes still wide with shock.

“Are you sure it’s his?” JJ asked, as you nodded.

“Guys, calm down, ok. Rafe won’t be coming over and Y/N is our friend. She deserves our support” Kie said, as Sarah nodded along with her.

“Rafe Cameron is psycho though. Do you know how many fights we’ve been in with him?” JJ said angrily, pacing the boat.

“He’s been actually really sweet with her. It’s a different side of him I’ve seen lately” Sarah commented.

“Yea, has he done anything within the past weeks with you? No, probably because of her” Kie commented, as the boys all looked to each other in understanding, and seemed to calm down. 

“I-I’m fucking scared guys about being a mom and I know you hate Rafe, but this baby is going to need all the love it gets. You guys are my friends and I want you all to get to know the little one” You said, rubbing your belly, as the boys started drinking.

“Fine, but only if I call first dibs on teaching him how to surf” JJ said, a form of acceptance without actually saying it. You smiled, going over to hug JJ, and he hugged you back. 

“We all love you, but we don’t want to hang out with Rafe” John B said, and you nodded, looking back to the group.

“Understandable, and I don’t expect you too, unless it’s a party but we’ll cross that bridge then” You said.

“Alright, I’m getting in the water” Kie said, as she started taking off her clothes to hop in the water. Everyone started getting in the water, and as you took off your clothes, there was silence coming from the group.

Is something wrong? Did Rafe leave big love bites? Do they see the tattoo?

“What?” You said, as everyone stared at you, as you stood in just your bikini.

“Your tits! They’re bigger” Sarah said, and you looked down at your tits and noticed.

“Like shit, girl. Your coconuts are watermelons” JJ said, staring outright, almost drooling. You rolled your eyes, but got in the water.

“I’ll take that as a compliment” You said, chuckling.

“From JJ? Definitely a compliment” Pope said, as the group laughed.

“Do all women’s tits look like that when they get pregnant? You’re making me want to knock up someone” JJ commented, as the group laughed and shock their heads at his antics.

“I don’t think the world is ready for mini JJs yet” Kie joked.

“I’m insulted” JJ teased.

“Didn’t think the world was ready for mini Rafes, but mama bear over here” Sarah said, and everyone laughed.

“Yea, well hopefully the baby is more Y/N than Rafe” John B commented, as you rolled your eyes. 

With Rafe at the course..

“Your sister, man, she’s so fucking stubborn” Rafe said, as they waited for Kelce to arrive. Topper rolled his eyes, looking over to Rafe who was looking at his phone.

“Try being her brother” Topper replied, pushing his hair out of his face to look for Kelce.

“Hey, why do you two look so annoyed? What pogues are we beating up today?” Kelce asked, as both guys looked to each other. Topper let out a sigh of relief as to have another guy deal with Rafe’s groaning. 

“Y/N’s hanging out with the Pogues” Topper said, and Kelce raised an eyebrow, looking at Rafe’s expression, before turning back to Topper. 

“So? Doesn’t she do that, like often? I know that’s bad, but usually doesn’t make you guys look like this” Kelce asked, as they got golf carts and went to the course.

“She’s having my baby. I don’t want her around those dirty pogues anymore. It’s not safe” Rafe said. 

“What? Y/N Thorton is having your baby? How the hell did you bag that? No offense, Top, but your sister is seriously the hottest chick in the OBX” Kelce said, and both boys glared at Kelce.

“Cut that shit out. She’s mine” Rafe said, his eyes blazing, before Topper looked at him.

“She’s telling them today so Rafe’s a bit on edge. Rafe, you know whatever you say is not going to stop her” Topper stated. 

“Well she should fucking listen! It’s also my baby in her belly” Rafe said annoyed. 

“Well congrats man. Can’t believe Rafe Cameron is going to be a father” Kelce said, as they all nodded. “Let’s get a round to celebrate” Kelce said, waving over the cart girl. Rafe’s mood was lifted, as well as the boys because if Rafe Cameron wasn’t happy, no one was happy.

“Cheers to Rafe becoming a dad, and Topper, you’ll be an uncle!” Kelce toasted, as the three guys clinked their beers before all of them shotgunned. 

“Woohoo” Rafe said, crushing the beer can in his hand. The boys laughed, as they began to play.

taglist:

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp @itz-serenity @me-marilm @snh96 @fallingwallsh​ @aria234​

#rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x oc #obx rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #obx smut #rafe obx

[around1302]

XIII. PRETEND ALLEYWAYS

SPARE PARTS: a series (13/20)

PARIS, FRANCE

(W) strong language, mentions of death/car accident, making out. this is a fairly long and emotional one! wc of 4.7k.

THIRD PERSON’S POV

“Zayn is relentless. I told him, like, a million times last night I can’t do it all again. You know what he said? All mysteriously and shit? ‘You’ll change your mind Charlie. We’re supposed to be together.’ But he did agree not to push me, which I suppose is nice.”

Amelia chuckles, earning a glare from where Charlie laid upside down on the bus’ sofa. She tilts her head, realising it’ll be better for her neck and general vision to just sit up. Her bun droops as she shifts, meeting Amelia’s amused eye.

“What?”

“It’s just ironic,” Amelia sighs, raking her red hair between her fingers before resting her cheek on her palm, “this is all you wanted a few years ago.”

“Yeah, well,” Charlie picks at her nails, lifting her legs up, “things change.”

“Would it be so bad?”

Charlie scoffs. “Are you kidding me? He doesn’t get to make up his mind several years after I made up mine.”

“Okay, but if you just take away the principal of it all. Do you not still have a little thing for Zayn?”

“Well, yeah, but Ha–”

Charlie stops herself, her eyes widening and her throat drying. It was a jerk response, to think of Harry. Weird response. One that Charlie firmly swallowed back down and ignored.

“No, I don’t. He’s a mate. And he doesn’t get to fuck me about just to change his mind two years later.”

“Alright,” Amelia smiles, “I like this Charlie. She’s healed.”

Charlie playfully narrows her eyes at her best friend before the two burst into a fit of giggles. Despite having hotel rooms only a few feet away, the pair decided to hang out on the bus together a little longer. Today was another rare free day, and unbeknownst to Charlie, the guys were currently decorating Poppy’s grave and making dinner reservations.

The prescense of Poppy here, in Paris, is very apparent to Charlie. She felt it coming into the city, and it’s ghosted her ever since. She knows she needs to visit the grave at some point, it’s whats right, but after nearly three years it’s still no easier.

Staring down at a stone for her sister, who would’ve been only twenty five this year, makes her disappearance all that easier to admit it’s real. And that’s not something Charlie wants to do yet.

“This bus is so much better than mine,” Amelia huffs out, head swivelling to gawk at the band’s bus.

“We got to decorate it ourselves,” Charlie leans her chin in between her knees, hugging her skins, “I take a lot of the credit.”

“I gave you your artistic vision,” Amelia throws a cushion at Charlie, which she narrowly misses. “I take credit for your credit.”

“Fine,” Charlie rolls her eyes, lips twitching.

Amelia stops for a minute, a shadow of something dampening her usually dazzling grin. Frowning, Charlie lifts her head, catching the way Amelia’s eyes flicker with something unreadable – something gloomy. Gloomy is, like, the antonym of Amelia Broadstrom.

“What’s up?”

Amelia quickly shakes her head. Too quickly.

“Lia,” Charlie deadpans, “you can’t bullshit me. What’s wrong? Something changed.”

The red haired woman worries at her bottom lip, eyes flying everywhere but Charlie’s. Standing and flopping herself next to her best friend, Charlie grabs Amelia’s chin and forces her to look at her.

Tears on the edge of a waterfall bounce from the ceiling lights.

“Lia?” Charlie’s tone softens, and she pulls her into her chest. She hears a sniffle, and whilst she wants to poke and prod, she sits in silence just holding her. Amelia’s tears soak through the band shirt Charlie’s still yet to return to Harry, touching her chest and making Charlie’s heart keep with sympathy. She’s not sure what for, yet, but it always seems to follow as if Amelia’s upset, Charlie’s upset.

“This is ridiculous,” Amelia’s voice when she finally speaks again is muffled, cloggy. The opposite of her usually chipper singsong. She surfaces from Charlie’s embrace, swiping tears and mascara from her rosy cheeks. Charlie helps her.

“Nothing’s ridiculous.”

“It’s just, talking about style, and design…” Amelia’s lip wobbles again, “I was fired.”

Charlie’s stomach plummets. “What?”

Amelia’s clearly trying to get herself together, inhaling and exhaling like her life depends on it.

… well. It does.

“It’s why I was so available for this job. And grateful.” She half laughs. “They stopped liking my designs at Burberry. Didn’t want to train me anymore.”

“What the fuck?” Charlie’s sympathy turns to rage. “Your designs are genius.”

“That’s what I said,” Amelia jokes, but the punchline falls flat as her voice wavers. A sad sort of silence falls between them, forcing Amelia to focus on the feeling. “I don’t know what I’m going to do after this, Charlie.”

“Oh, Lia,” Charlie brushes the matts of hair sticking to Amelia’s wet cheeks away, caressing her face, “you’re going to be fine. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but you’re Spare Parts’ stylist for their biggest tour yet,” talking about the band as if she isn’t a part of it helps with the process, “you’re going to have offers left, right and centre.”

“I guess,” Amelia sniffles, trying to pull her lips back into a smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me, babe?”

“You were about to be on tour, your album just came out, it–”

“It was that long ago? Holy shit, Amelia!”

Amelia tilts her head, as if to say unbelievable.

“Sorry,” Charlie coughs, “continue.”

“I just… everything was going for you. I didn’t want to put a dampener on your amazing life because something shitty happened in mine.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Lia,” Charlie pulls her back into her side, rubbing her shoulder as she leans her cheek on Amelia’s head, “I don’t care if I’m having the best day of my life, you tell me everything, yeah? You can’t put the bad stuff on hold for my benefit. I’m here for all of it, I always have been.”

Amelia nods. Charlie kisses her temple.

“I am sorry, though. I know you loved that job.”

“Hated it.” Amelia surfaces. “I lie to you a lot.”

Charlie scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes as Amelia laughs. “Well stop it,” she holds out her pinkie between them, “all of it, okay?”

Amelia hooks their fingers, the matching PROMISE stick and pokes they got in some kid’s garage during a school party connecting.

“Okay.”

“Harry, man, I just want to stay in my bed and take advantage of their room service. Can I just do one thing? Please?”

“I don’t give a shit,” Harry leans his body across the frame, stopping Charlie from being able to re-enter her room, “move it, princess. I’m under strict instructions.”

Charlie sighs, muffling a scream in her hands.

“Quit being dramatic, I’m going to make it a nice day,” Harry softly takes Charlie’s waist to push her in the direction of the lifts, but she quickly pivots, ripping away from his touch. With a glare, she stops him in the hallway, arms across her torso defensively.

“What did I explicitly say the other day?”

“Charlie,” Harry pinches between his brows, wondering why he didn’t at least get the guys and Amelia to pay him for this shit. He sure as Hell isn’t getting anything but a headache out of it. “As mates, yeah? At some point or other we’re going to have to get on, may as well start in the city of love.”

Charlie narrows her eyes, unconvinced.

“You’re sure you don’t have any ulterior motives?”

Harry rolls his eyes, biting back a smile.

“I’m not going to kill you. Or fuck you in the Effiel tower,” at the blush that quickly rises to Charlie’s cheeks, he pokes his tongue in his and starts walking again whilst pressing his fingers into the small of her back, forcing her to keep moving too. He leans down to her ear, his voice low as he mumurs, “unless that’s on the table…?

“Jesus, Harry–”

“Kidding,” Harry chuckles, stepping into the elevator and tugging her elbow to make sure she stays by his side, “quit whining and just fucking enjoy Paris, yeah?”

Charlie mumbles something beneath her breath.

“What was that?”

She mumbles again. The lift closes, moving down.

“Sorry, Greene, you’re going to have to speak up–”

“I said that you’re an asshole!”

Harry’s brows lift: is that how it is?

In one swift movement, he pins her against the side of the lift, the arm-beam digging into her back and making her arch into him as he leans down and brushes her lips. She sharply inhales as he lifts the tip of his nose against hers, before chastely kissing her jaw and stepping back, leaving her flustered and breathless.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Being an asshole,” the lift dings open, and Harry steps out into the bustling lobby, “come on. Whole day ahead of us, princess!”

“It’s a good job you can sing.” Charlie quietly laughs as Harry points out yet another incorrectly named landmark.

So far, apparently the Louvre is ‘some hall’, the Arc de Triomphe is a ‘weird bridge thing’, and the Notre-Dame cathedral is a, ‘fuckin’ huge Church.’

So far, apparently, Charlie’s actually having fun.

Not that she’d tell Harry that, or even admit it to herself. Harry turns to flag Charlie at the singing comment, his thick Gucci glasses blocking the way his eyes crinkle in an ambiguity. Even he can’t tell if he’s fawning or scowling. He pushes the sunglasses onto his head, making Charlie immediately panic and knock them back onto the bridge of his nose.

“Motherfucker,” he mutters under his breath, rubbing his nose, “that hurt.”

“We’re going to get recognised if you pull that shit.”

“So?” He tightens his grip on Charlie’s sweater between his fingers, the crewneck she was sweating bullets into ten minutes ago and passed to him with little reluctance from the man.

“So,” Charlie emphasises, as if it’s starkly obvious, “I don’t want to get mobbed.”

“A few people might want a picture,” he glides his glasses back into the hair he tied in a bun out of spite, “we won’t get mobbed. So, this is the–”

“Harry,” Charlie pleads, “please.”

Harry’s chest has never tightened and twisted like that. He hates it. He never wants to feel it again. So he shields his eyes again, and moves on.

The plan was to get her to the graveyard without detection. Harry thought it was idiotic, he knows Charlie isn’t stupid, that she probably knew the path to Poppy like the back of her hand. But she’s been so distracted by Harry’s terrible tour guiding that she hadn’t even noticed where they were headed, and seemed to glide behind him, excited to hear what famous landmark he’s going to horrendously fumble next.

The guys thought Harry being the one to bring her was stupid, too. But after a lot of bullshitting, and a surprisingly quick agreement from Amelia, he convinced them he was actually the best person for it.

He even convinced himself all he was doing today was means to an end, an end he was barely involved with, anyway. Not at all that he wanted to spend the day with Charlie. Not at all that he wanted to try and make her laugh as much as possible before she would spend the evening inevitably sad. Not at all that he wanted to be the one to carry her jumper.

The Eiffel tower suddenly fades into view, and Charlie jumps to take her phone from her handbag. She shoves it Harry’s way, already adjusting her hair and backdropping the tower.

“Take a picture of me.” She loosely demands.

Harry huffs a chuckle, tucking her jumper beneath his arm as he starts to angle the camera – quickly falling into the role of bidding photographer. He even frowns when he sees spots in the photo that he knows she’ll complain about later, so he instructs,

“Hold your hand up.”

“I’m not pretending to hold the Eiffel tower,” Charlie drops her pose. Harry cocks his head at her, “fine,” she lifts her finger up, “just don’t make it look dumb.”

“Never,” Harry mumbles sarcastically, his tongue absentmindedly poking out between his teeth as he concentrates on taking Charlie’s picture like he’s getting paid. She makes sure to flag him in the process, letting him silently know how dumb it is to be doing what every other tourist in the history of Paris tourism has done.

She checks them, surprised to see he was actually an okay photographer.

“Not bad,” she harrumphs, shoving her phone back in her pocket. They bask in quiet for a moment, just looking at each other with tiny smiles before Charlie observes that, “this is oddly normal.”

“What is?” Harry murmurs, eyes flickering to the beads of sweat forming at the base of her neck.

“Hanging out with you.” she shrugs. “Maybe you were right about getting on.”

Harry’s stomach flips. He coats himself in the feeling, bathing in it, soaking in it, till he clears his throat and strips it away.

“The day isn't over yet, princess. Don’t be too optimistic.”

“Why do you call me that?”

Harry’s never been asked that. In six years of calling her that more than she hears her own name, she’s never actually questioned why. Charlie always assumed it was just another way for him to be annoyingly condescending.

Harry has to think for a moment, he’d gotten so used to princess just being her, where it had come from is a little foggy nowadays.

“You’re a perfectionist.”

Charlie scoffs, an ugly noise rising from her throat. She continues to strive forward, without him.

“Oh, come on. What’s the main reason you hate me?” Harry catches up with her.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t like me.”

“I don’t–” Charlie cuts herself off. “You’re always late. You’re horrendous for it. Shows, parties, your own fucking funeral.”

Harry smirks. Point proven.

“Oh fuck off,” Charlie fights a smile, “that doesn’t make me a perfectionist. I just appreciate punctuality.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you have some fucked up punctuality kink.”

Charlie throws her head back, laughing. Harry stares at her mouth, her throat, her chest.

Then he spots an alleyway ahead, an arch way adorned with purple flowers that leads to a dark corner, a sliver of June sun beating down on the cobblestone.

Before she can react, Harry grips Charlie’s waist and pulls her into the nook, pushing his glasses up as he goes when he knows they’re out of sight, Gasping, she goes to swat his chest for nearly giving her a heart attack, but he just pushes her glasses up too and kisses her before the contact can be made – melting her hand into his shirt instead.

Forgetting where they are, Charlie tugs on the cotton, pulling him impossibly closer to her as they make out like a couple of teenagers – the sound of Paris around them, yet entirely outside of the bubble they formed the second their lips connected.

Harry holds her waist with one hand, his finger tugging at her tank top since her crew’s still residing in his fist.

Kissing Charlie Greene isn’t something Harry thinks he’ll ever get used to. Something about how she sucks on his bottom lip like that, how she smiles before pulling him between her teeth, how the little breathy sounds she makes causes every nerve in his body to start and end at his lips till he’s kissing her into oblivion.

“Friends, hm?” She lilts softly, biting her bottom lip. Harry prises it out with his thumb before diving back in to her addictive mouth. “Harry,” she pants against his lips, raking her fingers up and down the nape of his neck, arching into him. He kisses her neck. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Harry nips at her collarbone, pulling at her waist till he’s kissing her lips again.

“Please,” she moans into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispers against her lips, “I shouldn’t have pulled you back here,” he kisses her again, because fuck. Have you kissed this girl?

“Let’s go.” Charlie starts at his neck, now. Sucking in the space she knows gets him heady. His jaw slackens while his head tilts for her, but he pulls her away, knowing it would only lead to a very risky very illegal few minutes. “Harry, quit being a fuckin’ tease, let’s go,” she grabs his hand, trying to tug him out.

“As much as I would love to,” he tugs her back, “we can’t.”

Charlie piques. “Why?”

Harry sighs, she lets go of his hand.

“I can’t tell you.”

“The fuck do you mean you can’t tell me?”

Charlie, notoriously, hates surprises (yet another reason why Harry thought this was a bad idea). The trait arose on her 18th, when all she wanted to go was get pissed with her friends for the first time. Legally, at least. Instead, she had to endure a private dinner in an overly expensive ballroom (denting that first album money) because Liam and Niall thought she’d actually enjoy that.

Idiots.

“Just trust me.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Christ, Charlie, because I can’t.”

She huffs, throwing her arms up dramatically.

“I fucking hate surprises!” She yells, her voice bouncing off the walls. Nevertheless, she shouts this as she’s turning and leaving the tunnel, making the right that would take her in the direction they were walking in. Not the direction of the hotel.

Harry smiles.

“So,” Harry clears his throat after catching up with her, “as friends–”

Charlie scoffs.

“Oh, come on. We’re hanging out like normal, aren’t we?”

Her eyes flicker to the red marks forming by his shirt collar. Her mind turns over the fact they’re not screaming at each other. Nothing about this is normal.

“Fine, point proven. But we can at least try uphold the friends part of this friends with benefits deal, right?”

“I guess.” Charlie lilts sceptically, “what are you getting at?”

“Wanted to ask you about something.”

“If it’s Zayn I’m not entertaining it.”

“It’s not about Zayn,” Harry tries not to sound too gruff as he says his name. He’s a friend, of all of them. He shouldn’t feel like ripping his head off anytime he hears Charlie say his name. “It’s about music.”

“Oh?”

It’s weird. They’ve been in a band together for six years, produced two albums, done endless shows – yet they’ve never actually talked about their music. Charlie will write songs with Louis, and Harry will listen to riffs Niall’s written, and they’ll edit lyrics with Liam, but Charlie and Harry? They may as well be separate musicians entirely.

“Do you think you’ll want to do this forever?”

“Singing?”

“The band.”

Charlie’s brain pauses. She’d never actually thought about it, she’s just spent every day since Bittersweet living in the moment. Writing, recording, performing. Before the band she didn’t even think about singing professionally, she wanted to be a vet for God’s sake.

“No.”

She answers on impulse, and apparently that’s the first thing to come to mind. No. But she supposes that’s true – she can’t imagine being fifty and up on that stage, introducing herself as one of Spare Parts’ lead singers. She imagines rocking chairs and tiny children and maybe a bit of normality.

Harry just juts his chin.

“You?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Charlie’s eyes narrow at how uncharacteristically meek his voice sounds. She opens her mouth to prod him further, but his arm sprawling across her back, twisting her to suddenly stop and face him, silences her.

His glasses are pushed back again, so Charlie can see how his eyes seem… different. Rapidly casting a flurry between hers as his thumbs graze her waist. Charlie’s fingers twitch with the impulse to reach up and smooth those creases between his brows.

“Harry?”

“Before you see it,” his tongue shoots out to his bottom lip, “I want you to know they only mean well, and that if you want to scream and cry, you can use me as a punching bag later.”

“Harry, what? What are you talking about?”

“I promise, I tried to warn them against it.”

“You’re scaring me, Styles,” Charlie tries to chuckle to lighten her anxiety, but it’s not much use against the pit forming in her stomach. She glances behind Harry, suddenly becoming aware of her surroundings. She vaguely recognises that lamppost, that parking spot.

That graveyard, when Harry softly turns her and steps back. Charlie’s jaw hangs as her breath catches in her throat. She pushes her glasses into her hair, blinking to check she’s seeing correctly. When she realises this is reality, every muscle in her tenses to stone till she can’t feel a single bone.

Since Poppy’s death, Charlie has visited her grave once. Twice, if you count the funeral. It had to be held in Paris, much to their parents disgrace, because of Poppy’s very strict instructions:

In the case that I ever die (which I highly doubt, but one must always plan for the worst) bury me in Paris. It’s the only place in the world worth living in forever. I can rest safely knowing I’ll be in a killer (mind the pun) outfit.

Due to the suddenness of her death, a stupid ‘will’ drawn up by a sixteen year old obsessed with fashion magazines and Donnatella Versace was the only thing they could go by when it came to her wishes – and damn it, would Charlie abide by her wishes.

Twice was three months after she died. All Charlie was doing was drinking herself into a grave by her sister’s side, before she fell into Zayn’s arms. So she decided one night to get on a plane and just sit at the grave. Talk to her. Yell at her. Cry at her.

Charlie blames so many people for Poppy’s death, but mostly she blames herself. That fateful night would have never happened if she hadn’t called her sister at 3AM, tipsy and high out of her brain, demanding she attended the sleezy London party she never should have been at.

She specifically said, ‘hurry your ass up,’ and Poppy hearing nothing but jumbled slurs on the other end did just that.

“Harry,” Charlie’s voice starts to break as she sees the grave in the near distance, her bandmates, Zayn and Amelia waiting around it with grins on their faces. The grave is adorned with flowers, cleaned up well (since no one had done that in months). It’s… beautiful. And not what Charlie wanted to see right now, “I can’t do this.”

Charlie starts to turn, reaching to grab her sweater and bolt the yard before she has a chance to get any closer. Harry stops her, holding her shoulders and finding her teary eyes.

“Sweetheart,” thrice, “you can.”

Hot tears began to spill over, burning lines through her rosy cheeks. He catches them.

“I know,” he coos, “I told them, but–”

“I wasn’t prepared to see her grave, Harry. I can’t… I need more time…”

“Look,” Harry swallows, “like I said, scream, cry, punch – do whatever you need to do to me, later. Right now, your friends have done something that they intended to be nice.”

“But it’s my sister’s grave.” Charlie whispers, and Harry swears he feels his heart break.

Despite Harry being the last person she went to when Poppy passed, he understood her grief the best. He saw the ugly side to it at every bar, party, and late night she spent trying to cope. In the months where no one would leave their house, Charlie would be out somewhere, coating herself in medicine till the pain was utterly numbed. Harry saw her face drop every time Paris was mentioned in the tour preparation, but most importantly, Harry knows Charlie.

Harry knows Charlie would want to run.

“C’mere,” he mumbles into her hair, pulling her to his chest. Charlie ignores how very not ‘I don’t want to cuddle with you after sex’ this is of her and focuses on a pair of arms keeping her from crumbling to a pathetic pile of sadness. Harry eyes everyone behind her, smiles dimming and frowns replacing them. They just wanted to make it easier for Charlie to see Poppy again, they meant well.

“I wasn’t going to see her,” Charlie sobs into Harry’s shoulder, soaking his shirt as she grasps at his chest. He hugs her tighter, “that’s evil. I wasn’t going to fucking seeing her.”

“Hey,” he hushes, rubbing circles in her back, “you’re not evil. You’re not running from your sister, you’re running from the grief.”

“But that is my sister,” Charlie sniffs, surfacing, looking up at him with swollen eyes and tear soaked lips, “she’s the grief now.”

Harry leans his forehead against hers, now, not caring about the others stood only twenty feet from them, probably close to having heart attacks because Charlie Greene’s face is buried in Harry Styles’ neck right now. Fuck everyone else, his girl’s sobbing into his chest and whether she wants to admit it or not, he’s going to help her.

“Charlie,” he whispers, “you can do this. You can go, you can say thank you to everyone, you don’t even have to look at the grave. You can do ten seconds, yeah? Then we can go straight back to the hotel.”

Reluctantly, Charlie nods. She knows he’s right, she can’t just run from this like she has been for the last few years.

So, with a deep inhale and a messy wipe of her face with the heels of her palms, she turns and she approaches the guys while Harry hangs back.

Amelia’s the first to rush forward, engulfing Charlie in a hug that nearly knocks her back.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, on the verge of tears herself, “I’m so stupid. I didn’t think at all.”

“Hey,” Charlie pulls her back, capturing her best friend’s face in her hands, “you did a lovely thing,” she looks past Amelia to everyone else, all looking guilty, “you all did. This is beautiful,” her eyes flicker to the grave, and ten seconds is reeling in her mind, but the moment she looks she can’t stop looking.

It’s covered in roses and daisies and dirt and grass. It’s strawberry perfume and overly expensive lip gloss and a strong disdain for hot coffee and the best advice anyone in the world could ever give. It’s hopes and dreams of being a director and it’s magazines littered everywhere in her home full of decor ideas and blueprints of extensions and it’s half a closet emptied because she was such a hopeless romantic that she wanted to be prepared at all times.

It’s her sister.

“Can I, um,” Charlie rakes at her throat as though she’s trying to squeeze the lump out, “have a minute, with her?”

“Of course.”

The guys all hug or kiss her as they walk past, joining Harry by the gates, only twenty feet away. Far enough to not hear her, close enough to be there if she needed them. Charlie sits before Poppy, letting the tears water her grass as she stares.

01.03.1997 – 17.11.2020.

“I didn’t celebrate your birthday. I didn’t forget, before you yell at me. I laid awake until midnight, counting down the seconds before your 25th. I was going to get a cake, get some candles, throw a party. But I couldn’t. I can’t do anything when it comes to facing you, lately.”

Charlie’s eyes follow the plaits of roses adorning her crown.

“I didn’t even do this. My friends did. I don’t even know your favourite flower, Poppy. How fucking bad is that? I spent twenty years knowing you without even knowing your flower.”

“In fact, I’m only here because I’m on tour. We did another album. I wrote a lot about you. Didn’t make it on, too hard. You would have haunted me for profiteering, anyway. I think I fucked up a lot on this tour already, Poppy. You’d scold me. Oh, you’d fucking hate me,” Charlie chuckles, “you never liked Harry because I never liked Harry. Suppose if that rule still stands, you’d be banging his brains out now.”

“I think I still love Zayn, too. That’s your fault, by the way. Turns out dick can be a very comforting thing when your sister dies. I don’t know if I loved him or if I just needed him, though. You’d be able to tell me.”

Charlie chews at her bottom lip till metal dances on her tongue, copious amounts of mascara stinging her eyes.

“Poppy, I… I’m trying to be like you. You were so carefree, you never worried about a thing. You had such a clear path set for your life, you had men falling at your feet left and right and it never seemed to be complicated for you. How do I be like you?”

Charlie laughs to herself when she hears Poppy’s answer echoing her conscience.

I’m dead babe, she’d say, try Beyoncé instead.

“Okay,” Charlie sniffs, standing and brushing herself off, “I’m gonna go now. Give me a call sometime, yeah? I never speak to you anymore.” She nudges the side of the grave, her fingers dancing over the flowers.

As she walks back over to her friends, the six of them pretending to be immersed in conversation so it didn’t seem as though they were all stood watching her whilst fighting tears of their own, she’s smiling. (Albeit, through some thick eyeliner streaks).

“Thank you. I missed her.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#spare parts series #harry styles series #one direction series #harry styles x oc #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #1d series #1d ot5 #1d smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #one direction ot5 #one direction smut #one direction #1d imagines

[judethejudas]

‘Dysmorphia’ Ghost x Chubby! Male! Reader

You loved him.

But you weren’t sure why he loved you..

Especially when you couldn’t love yourself.

WARNING: heavy body image issues/body dysmorphia, sexual themes, spanking, swearing, slight knife play.

MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

(Y/n) = your name

(F/c) = favorite color

“This looks so stupid..”

You sighed, turning to your side and looking at yourself in the mirror again. Your hands went down to pinch at the chub that was peeking out from your tummy and you frowned.

You had gotten yourself (f/c) lingerie to surprise your longtime boyfriend, who was finally coming home after two months of being away. He had mentioned one time that he thought lingerie was sexy, and that you should try it on sometime.

But now you were reconsidering your purchase.

You groaned in frustration as you felt you didn’t look right and that Simon wouldn’t be into it either.

‘Why would he like it anyway? He’s built like a god and me..?’ You looked down at yourself and felt a pang in your heart, thinking horrible thoughts about yourself.

How you always needed larger clothes.

How you were made fun of for your size nearly all your life.

How embarrassed Simon must be that he was with you..

“…”

That’s it. This was all just a waste of money, you thought as you reached behind your back to try to unhook the bralette from your chest. Though you were having quite a bit of trouble trying to get it off.

You huffed and looked at the mirror again from behind to try and see where to unlatch it from. Your head turned awkwardly to see what you were doing, but you were growing frustrated with each passing moment.

“Fucking hell..”

You heard a deep voice coming from behind you.

Gasping loudly, you turned your head to the doorway and saw..

Your boyfriend.

Eyeing you from head to toe like you were the last meal on earth.

“Simon?!”

He cracked his neck and closed the bedroom door behind him.

“The one and only, love. At least I hope I am.. I might have to break someone’s skull if I caught them looking at you the way I am right now.”

“Why are you home so early?!”

“You’re upset?”

“No.. I..” You trailed off, using your arms to cover yourself up and look away from him. You didn’t want him to stare at you anymore. Wearing almost nothing and exposing your body.

The body that you hated.

“You weren’t supposed to see me like this.. I’m so happy you’re back but..”

Simon could see your eyes becoming glassy with tears that threatened to pour any minute.

He wasted no time in rushing to your side and pulling you in for a hug.

You started crying as you clung onto your boyfriend, who hushed you and told you it was alright and that he was here now.

“I hate the way I look..” You sobbed out, trembling and shaking as he held you tightly. “Why do you bother with me when I can’t even look at myself..?”

“(Y/n)…”

Simon was beyond shocked and in complete disbelief. How could you say such a thing? Why would he bother with you? Are you serious?

He pulled away and cupped your face, making you look right at him.

“I mean no offense, love, but that’s the stupidest question I ever heard.”

You were about to argue why it wasn’t stupid and that he should leave you for someone else.

But he was already turning you to look into the mirror.

And you found yourself tearing up again.

“You’re asking me why I bother with you?”

You slowly nodded, turning your face away to look at the floor. The wall. Anywhere but that reflection of yours.

But it was pointless when you felt his hand under your chin, making you look at the mirror again.

“There’s no one else in this world I cherish more than you. Your beautiful smile, your pretty curves, the way you laugh, when you tell me you love me..”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror with his arms circling around your waist.

“I’m going to make you my husband someday and nothing you’ll say is going to change my mind. You’re the one I want.”

You were crying for a different reason now.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Simon.”

You let him give you a kiss, a long one since he had been gone for quite a while and you turned to face him entirely— his arms still wrapped around your waist.

You broke the kiss and held onto his cheek.

“Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

“Oh I’m hungry alright.. but it’s not food I want.”

You were confused by that sentence until you felt something pressing against your stomach.

You quickly looked down and saw the outline of his hardened bulge and blushed.

“You see what you do to me?” He mumbled into your ear.

“Simon..”

“You mean sir, don’t you, pet?” He corrected you and you looked back up at him eyes wide.

He only made you call him sir when you were in trouble.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy.. didn’t I teach you not to talk badly about yourself before I left? And I come home and you’re wearing the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and you don’t even like the way you look in it.”

You tried to say you were sorry but could only stutter with the way he was looking at you.

That dark look in his eye that said you were in for a long night.

He left your embrace and took a seat on the bed, not even taking a moment to break the eye contact.

“Lay on my lap, ass out.”

Fuck.

You did as you were told and laid atop his built legs with your stomach first.

You gasped as you watched him pull his knife from his boot.

“Such a pretty color on you, love.” He said as he tapped the flat part of the blade on your ass. The coldness of it making you shiver.

Then you felt the knife cutting your (f/c) panties off, leaving you only in the stockings, garter belt and bralette.

“Simon!”

His hand came down quickly to slap you on your ass and you gasped.

“That was a warning, baby. What did I tell you to call me?”

“S-Sir..”

“That’s right. Now count these, pretty boy.”

You felt another slap on your ass and yelped.

“One..”

And then another one.

“Two..”

Slap.

“Mmh~ three…”

And he kept going until you counted to thirty.

Your ass was sore and red. Your head was facing down to hide the embarrassed look on your face, embarrassed because you realized your dick was hard and leaking after all that.

His hand massaged your ass cheek and you winced a little, since it was so tender.

But his touch felt good so you welcomed it.

“What a good boy..”

He whispered other praises to you, about how handsome you were and how good you did for him— also asking if you were okay.

“Mhm.. Yes, sir.”

“Good, now you’re going to say you’re a pretty, handsome prince. Over and over. Or you won’t get fucked.”

The sound of his zipper was loud in your ears and you felt your cock twitch in excitement.

________

Damn. Two fics in one day?

Also crying for chubby male reader, I’d kiss and hug him myself.

#cod #codmw2 #mw2 #simon riley #ghost #mw2 ghost x male! reader #mw2 ghost #cod ghost #ghost x male!reader

[desideriumwriter]

Nothing’s Wrong.

Summary: Spencer has a grudge against reader, when she helps him when he’s shot, it doesn’t fix anything. Well, a few other arguments do…and reader showing up to his door.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending.

WC: 3.7k

CW: yelling, Spencer being shot, Spencer nearly dying, mentions of death, kidnapping, mentions of SA and murder, barely proofread (like always).

A/N: I used some of the dialogue from a scene in TEOTFW (S2) where James & Alyssa argue in the car, I don’t know if I like this really, anyways I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist 

• • • • • • •

It’s been seven weeks since Emily died.

Almost 3 weeks of sobbing and crying and being angry, 2 weeks of reminiscing…also crying, and 1 week since you’ve finally come to the sad acceptance that she’s gone.

You went through all the stages of grief and mourning. Spencer was still extremely hurt over it.

Emily was like an older sister to you. You became friends after having a conversation in a store with her on shoes. You also knew Spencer at the same time, you met him in a bookstore.

Spencer however, isn’t handling it well.

He’s been crying at your door ever since it happened. Everytime he talks about how he never got to say goodbye and the good memories he had with her. You would just listen and rub his back, trying to comfort him in any way possible.

One night after he calmed down, you thought maybe talking about something else would help, so he could get his mind off it. But after what happened, he’s probably still in the anger stage of grief.

“Oh, did you hear about my new job? You know, the job. The one I’ve been trying to get for the past year.” You grinned, trying to change the subject so he could focus on something else than his dead friend.

“Don’t you realize Emily is gone?”

“Yes. I just thought you were okay with talking about other things.” Your voice was small.

“You wouldn’t have thought so. You would've known. If you did know you wouldn’t talk about yourself every second!” Your mouth dropped slightly in disgust.

“What? What are you trying to get at?” You were genuinely confused, how did a few sentences cause him to lash out and snap at you?

“Emily is gone, forever! and you’re just talking about yourself!” He stood up from the couch. You copied his movements.

“Spencer, I’ve finally got the job I’ve been working all my life for and I wanted to share what’s been happening at it. I didn’t know it would make you so upset.” 

“Emily is fucking dead!” He screamed at you, you flinched a tiny bit, hearing him swear was terrifying. He has such a soft, sweet voice, hearing it so angry, so frustrated, so loud, it was scary.

“I fucking know that! I know! Have you taken a minute to think I’m hurting too? You’ve come to my door crying for nearly seven weeks now and I’ve been hugging you, holding you, letting you sleep here for comfort. But what have you done? Hm? You haven’t asked once if I was okay. She was family to me too!” You yelled back.

“God, I can't handle you anymore. It’s too much.”

“You can’t handle me? Spencer what the fuck are you saying? We’re friends, y-you’re my best friend.”

“I don’t care. I can’t stand you anymore.” He pushed past you and swiftly walked out the door before you could get another word in, he didn’t even bother to close the door.

You just stood there in shock and bit your cheek, you tried to hold back tears and listened to his footsteps fade out down the hallway.

What the fuck?

• • • • • • •

You haven’t had any interaction with Spencer for three whole years. The day he walked out on you after the argument, you never spoke again.

But last month you saw him, in the worst way possible.

Spencer was shot in the neck last week. You were the one who had to run over and apply pressure to his neck, trying to stop him from bleeding out.

You repeatedly told him to keep his eyes on you as he fell in and out of consciousness. 

McGregor had you tied up on the floor, he took you as a hostage while you were passing by, using you, a random innocent girl, as collateral damage. He was oblivious to your old connection to an FBI agent.

Once he wasn’t looking because he was too busy being in the middle of a shootout, you were able to squeeze your hands out of the ropes and run out the side door. Shots rang out towards you as you ran and a bullet nearly hit your arm.

You felt as if it was your fault, when you escaped, Spencer saw you, ran after you, then got shot. Maybe if you ran a different direction, away from him, maybe if you just stayed put, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t have seen you, he wouldn’t have run after you, he wouldn’t have ran across a fucking shootout, he wouldn’t have gotten shot.

You hated Spencer. But he didn’t deserve to die. As he was lifted into the ambulance you looked at your arms covered in his blood. You didn’t blink, your eyes were stuck wide open looking at the red all over.

• • • • • • •

You sobbed in the shower trying to wash the blood that you missed off your arms, Spencer’s blood. Watching it mix within the water and turn into a pinkish shade.

It was going to eat you alive if you didn’t at least attempt to see him.

When you arrived at the hospital, you sat in your car for a while, debating if you should really go inside and see him. What if he was in a coma or critical condition? What if he was dead? Someone would’ve told you, right?

Fuck it, just go and see for yourself.

Once you were able to visit him, you stood at the door and looked through the small glass window, he was talking to an older woman. He caught a small glimpse of you, you saw his face change, his brows furrowed, it wasn’t in a way of disgust or anger, more like confusion and shock. You immediately changed your mind and turned away.

You got in your car and put your key in the ignition. You stalled and didn’t turn it. Once again, thoughts came rushing through your head. 

Maybe he wasn’t angry anymore? Did he forget about what happened? 

No, no, it's impossible to forget. 

Was he appreciative of you? Was he happy to see you? Or just confused? You haven’t seen him in so long, he was just surprised. 

You basically saved his life, he has to be at least a tiny bit appreciating of it. 

Just go back inside. But, that lady might still be there. 

It’ll be awkward seeing him in general. 

Shit.

Again, after sitting in your car for a little over thirty minutes you decided to go back into the building and see Spencer.

You walked quickly down the hallway, you weren’t excited to see him, you weren’t in a rush to see him. You just…needed to see him.

You approached the door and gave it three gentle knocks. You opened it and peeked your head in.

“Hi.” He only gave you a weak nod and straight smile in response.

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing.” You fully walked in.

“I’m alive, you can see that.” You watched him look down at your still blood stained hand, you tugged your sleeve down and took a mental note to try and scrub it off once you got home.

“Yeah. I never thought the next time seeing you was gonna be me trying to stop you from bleeding out.”

“Why are you here?” He sighed.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, after everything that happened, you know?”

“Well I obviously am.” You nodded in response to his snarky tone. There was an awkward silence.

“Just because you helped me doesn’t mean I'm not angry at you anymore. I’m happy that you did what you did but you didn’t have to come here. You could've stayed home. Okay?” He deadpanned. His attitude made your blood boil, you thought after three whole years he would ease up and let go of the grudge he had against you, but nope. It made you snap.

“You’re right. Fucking forget it, coming here was a huge mistake.” You stormed out the door while Spencer attempted to call out your name.

• • • • • • •

You spent a long night out with your friends at the club, you drank and danced less than them and you got left there alone after they all drunkenly left and got into cabs. You sat at the counter and just observed everyone, couples dancing, the bartenders, people flirting, it was nearly four a.m. by the time you left.

The streets were mostly empty, all taxis were gone or parked with their lights off. You were buzzed but you could walk home, even in heels…

 Maybe not.

“Shit!” You yelled as your ankle rolled and you started to fall towards the concrete, until a set of arms caught you and helped you stand up straight.

“Oh, thank you. I would’ve knocked out my teeth or something if yo-” You paused once you turned and looked at the man in front of you.

It was fucking Spencer.

You pulled away from his grip and smoothed your dress.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone at this time of night, it’s not safe. I can give you a ride home.” He assured you.

“I’m fine, these streets are safe. My place isn’t even that far.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t want you being out here, you could get kidnapped, or trafficked, or assaulted, or…just any type of bad thing could happen. I’m just trying to help.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve already been kidnapped before, remember? McGregor? I know how to protect myself now.” He practically flinched when you said McGregor's name, bringing back the terrible memory of all that happened that night.

“Listen, I’m working on a case around here, the suspect follows and takes girls that are alone, assaults them, and kills them. I’d rather not tell you all the brutal details. It’s really not good to be out here right now. I don’t want you getting hurt again. So please just accept my offer.” You looked up and down the dark, empty streets. You’d rather get in the car with a man you hated than become a victim to a killer on the loose.

“Shit, fine.” You mumbled and went to the passenger's side of his car. Neither of you said a word.

He didn’t seem angry anymore, maybe a small conversation would be nice.

You began to wonder about the woman you saw in Spencer's hospital room.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who was the woman in the hospital room with you?”

“Her name is Alex.” He said flatly.

“Oh. So, has Alex been helping you do stuff? Cause of your...injury, you know?” You looked at the scar on his neck.

“She left. The night after I got shot.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“How’s your job?” He asked.

“It’s amazing. I thought you didn’t want me to talk about it.” You slumped down in your seat.

“That was a while back. I didn’t mean it.”

“Whatever anyways, do you have the profile on the killer so I know who to watch out for?” He opened his mouth but paused for a minute, then stammered, then just stopped talking. The realization hit you. Your jaw went slightly ajar. Bastard.

“There is no profile, there is no killer. You lied.” You looked over at him, furious.

“I’m not lying! It’s just- we haven’t- we’re not ready to deliver it yet!”

“No! You’re a horrible liar Spencer. If there was a killer on the loose, I would’ve heard about it! I would’ve heard something about dead women found written in newspapers or it would’ve been on the news or being told by one of my neighbors! God why didn’t I realize.” You muttered the last sentence to yourself.

“I didn’t- okay, maybe I did lie. But I did it for the best.”

“What? You lied about a criminal just for me to get in your car?”

“No! I just care about you! You still could’ve gotten attacked! I was just looking out for you!”

“I don’t need you to look out for me! Plus, all of a sudden you care about me? You held a grudge against me for years after one shitty argument! I was able to keep you from bleeding out when you got shot in the fucking neck, when I went to visit and check on you in the hospital you yelled at me! You know, maybe just a simple ‘Thanks for basically saving my life’ would be nice. You hated me but now you want to care about me? Fuck off.”

“You’re right, but I’m truly thankfu-”

“Just drive me home Reid. It’s whatever.” You cut him off, you didn’t want to hear him thanking you only because you pointed it out.

“Can you stop acting like that?” He sighed.

“Acting like what?”

“You can’t just act like nothings wrong when it is!”

“Nothings wrong, everything is in the past, you never said thank you or sorry, so what? It’s in the past now. I don’t want you to say any of it now.” He went silent again. Until, you had to stop at the train tracks and wait for a train to pass.

"Please can you let me say sorry?" He sighed and broke the silence.

“Okay…I said okay.” You looked over to him, his jaw was clenched and hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. He stayed silent.

“Say it! Go on, say sorry. Say sorry, and then I can say it's okay, and everything's all right. That's what you want, isn't it?”

That’s the thing, that is exactly what Spencer wanted, but he knew that wouldn’t change anything.

“No. It's not ok. It's just how it is.” He said blankly.

“What's that supposed to mean?” You scrunched up your face.

“It wasn't just you…who had a bad time.”

“It's not a competition.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I nearly died.” He said sternly.

“Oh, apparently it is.” You huffed out and rolled your eyes.

“I nearly died!” He screamed, you didn’t have any physical reaction, no flinching, no jumping, not even blinking. At this point, you were used to him yelling at you.

“I know. I was there.” You tried to hide your hurt, the memory of him almost dying in your hands stung like a bitch.

“I'm not the answer, Spencer.” You said quietly.

“I know.” He nodded. The train finally had passed and he was able to start driving again.

The drive home was silent. Neither of you looked at each other or even made a sound once. You stared out the window, watching the bright city lights pass by.

He reached your apartment after what felt like hours of sitting there in silence.

“Thanks for the ride.” You said as you opened the car door.

“Yep.” He stared straight in front of him, refusing to make eye contact.

You closed the car door and walked inside your apartment complex.

• • • • • • •

It’s been four months since you’ve seen Spencer. You were expecting the months to turn into years like last time, but when you were driving one night you saw him walking down the sidewalk in the rain. He had his cardigan pulled over his head to cover him from the rain.

You pulled over near the sidewalk and rolled down your window. Maybe this time, you could fix everything. No arguing this time.

“It’s freezing out here and it’s raining, do you want a ride?” You shouted over the loud sound of falling rain.

“y/n?- I’m fine.” He squinted at you but when he realized who it was, his tone of voice changed completely.

“All you’ve got is that cardigan on and you're carrying that heavy ass satchel. So, do you want a ride?”

“Fine.” He sighed angrily.

The only thing Spencer said when he got in the car was “Thank you.” It was painfully silent after that…until you got stuck in the middle of late night traffic.

You fiddled around with the radio, trying to find a station playing decent music, but there was none so you just chose the one with ads playing. Eventually you turned it off, it didn’t help anything, even with noise in the background the stress of Spencer being quiet overpowered it. The rain hitting the car and the honking of angry drivers did nothing to help.

The silence was too painful so you decided to finally break it.

“Haven’t seen you in four months.” You tapped your fingers on the wheel.

“I know.”

“Anything cool happen while catching killers?”

“Nope.” He had a bit of attitude in his voice.

“What’s with the tone? You get shot again or something?” You joked.

“No.” He tried to hold back a smile but failed and ended up chuckling a little bit, which made you smile.

Cars started moving, the tension between you and him had decreased, everything felt okay. Maybe he didn’t hate you anymore.

“How’s everything been for you since you left?” His attitude immediately changed back to his snarky one. You furrowed your brows.

“You were the one who walked out, not me.” You clenched your jaw.

“I never walked out.”

“Yes, you did. After the argument three. years. ago. You basically pushed me away when I went to check on you in the hospital, you also screamed at me in the car last time.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that. You still walked out also.” 

“You basically pushed me away- whatever, Emily’s alive, that’s good.” You took a long pause in the middle of your sentence.

“I know that, I’m not stupid, she joined the team for a while until she started working for Interpol.” Spencer's bitchy attitude was killing you.

“Why are you acting like such an asshole? Just a few months ago you were acting kind to me. What the fuck happened?”

“You. You happened.” He spat.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. You ruined it. I was trying to be nice and fix us after everything that happened but you just had to be a…a bitch!”

“A bitch? This is all my fault? You made what happened to both of us at the bar shootout a competition! For fucks sake, I ran across a line of bullets to save your ass, I visited you at the fucking hospital to check if you were okay, I still hated you, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. I don’t have an eidetic memory but I know damn well not once you asked if I was.” You ranted.

“You didn’t have to do that, you could've ran the other way and saved yourself. I didn’t need your help.”

“Are you kidding- Spencer, you would’ve bled out!” You were shocked that he didn’t want you to help him, you hated him but you didn’t want him dead.

“Alex was there, so was the rest of the team, anyone could’ve helped me.” You opened your mouth to say something but stopped. What was the point of fighting anymore, you were just beating a dead horse.

“Why are we still fighting?” You sighed.

“I…I don’t know.” His voice was small.

“It’s funny, we’re in the same situation as last time we were in a car together.” You scoffed out a laugh.

“What situation?”

“Last time, you offered me a ride, now I offered you a ride, and now we’re arguing with each other again. Ironic, huh?”

“Time is a flat circle, I guess.” He shrugged.

Thank God you were pulling into his apartment complex parking lot after his last sentence. The tension had fallen again anyway.

“Night Spence.” He gave you a simple “Thanks” and ran into the building, trying to escape the rain.

• • • • • • •

Though everything went somewhat better than the first time in the car with Spencer, nothing felt fixed, and it was bothering you.

You were having a terrible day already. You spilled coffee on yourself…twice, knocked over an entire stack of papers you just organized, got screamed at and humiliated by a customer in front of everyone in the room, you fell on the sidewalk and your hands got all scraped up. All the little things piling up made you get closer and closer to crying your eyes out. Thinking of Spencer did not help one bit.

Everything today was reminding you of him, the bookstore you drove past on the way to work, the smell of fresh coffee in the office, the paintings on the walls, the music playing on the radio, the sound of harsh wind outside, somehow everything connected back to him.

Just Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.

You couldn’t stand one more second of having him stuck in your head, you were going to break if he didn’t leave your mind.

As soon as work was over for you, you went right over to Spencer’s apartment. You only knocked twice on his door.

He opened it with a frustrated expression which quickly turned into concern when he fully saw your face.

“y/n? What happened?”

“I’ve had a long day.” That’s all you said. You bit down on your bottom lip while trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill.

“Oh, okay, can you come inside if you want.” He unlocked the chain and opened the door fully.

You did and sat down on the couch with your eyes focused on your hands glued together.

“Do you want something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?” You shook your head to every offer, not looking up once.

“Okay, um…do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He sat down next to you.

“Everything is so fucking weird and tense between us, and I hate it. I want it gone.” You blurted out to him.

“I know. I can admit that…I- I want it gone too.” 

“I miss you, Spence. God, I fucking miss you. I miss you so much to the point it hurts. And, I’m exhausted…of everything, hating you and fighting. I don’t want to argue anymore.” You spewed out again while you looked him right in the eyes, even though you were about to start sobbing.

“y/n…” You could tell he had to take a minute to figure out what to say.

“I…am so sorry for everything. I was a complete and utter asshole, I didn’t want it to seem like I was jealous or angry about your success. I don’t cope with big changes well but that’s not an excuse for how I acted. I was such an asshole and I was stuck up in myself. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m so sorry, y/n.” He sputtered out. You gave a small shaky sigh of relief.

“All I wanted to hear was for you to say sorry.” You couldn’t fight back tears anymore, they started streaming down your face as you hugged him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, I love you.” He mumbled into your hair.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

“No, I mean, I love you.” He pulled out of the hug and cupped his hands around your face.

“I know. I do too.” You smiled.

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