#I WILL CRY ON THIS FINE THURSDAY AFTERNOON | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matty-bear · 2 months

Note

Could you write a fluffy fic where nick is insecure because of the hate online and his boyfriend (the reader) comforts him?

I love your writing btw<33

Insecure [N.S]

type: request !

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, angst, slightly suggestive ?? (these parts are towards the end) negative self image talk, mentions of hate, fat-shaming, and slurs (last two are not specified they’re just mentioned !)

summary: after coming over to visit nick, you immediately notice his off behavior. your boyfriend reassures you that nothing is wrong and that he’s fine but when he comes back crying after filming a car video with his brothers, the truth finally comes out

notes: hope this fulfills your request ! i enjoyed writing this even tho it was quite upsetting :3 best believe that if i see someone being hateful towards nick i wont hesitate to clap back 🔥 some people need to grow up and stop hiding behind screens when they post hateful shit . they’re just pussies 😒

WC: 4675

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One thing you must know about Nick is that he is very expressive and is not scared of being himself. You could easily be able to tell how he was doing emotionally just by his facial expressions and body language. (This also meant that he was horrible at hiding things from you. This includes feelings and surprises and such)

Which is why when you suddenly caught onto his off and quiet demeanor the day you came over to his place to hang out, you immediately knew something was wrong.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It’s currently Thursday afternoon and you were gathering your belongings to head over to Nick’s. You knew that he and his brothers would be filming later today so you decided to head over to theirs as soon as possible.

You also heavily missed your boyfriend even though you saw him two days ago.

After slipping your headphones around your neck and making sure you have your phone in your possession, you grab your car keys and head outside. The sun immediately began to shine in your face the moment you stepped foot outside and you couldn’t help but squint as a result. After making sure your front door is locked, you walk to your car and get in the driver's seat. A soft huff escapes your lips as you start the car and adjust the AC with your right hand. When everything's to your liking, you finally start your short venture to the Sturniolo household.

It only took 15 minutes until you were pulling up in the all too familiar driveway holding a black minivan. You can’t help the smile growing on your face as you hurriedly turn the car off and exit your vehicle. As you walk up to the front door, you take your phone out of your pocket to text Nick that you’re here. However, before you get the chance to open y’all’s chats, the door opens.

You quickly lift your head, your eyes slightly wide, before you relax at the sight of Matt greeting you with a small smile. “Hey.” The brunette greets, stepping aside to let you in.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask as you step inside the house, the faint scent of fast food immediately filling your senses.

“Heard your car pull up.” You hum faintly and nod your head at the male before the two of you start walking up the steps. “I smell food. What did y'all order?”

“Chris was craving a ‘Mcdonalds' breakfast’ so I ordered some.” You can’t help but chuckle at the sight of Matt doing air quotations. “We have some leftovers so if you're hungry you can help yourself to whatever’s left.”

“How much did you guys order if there’s leftovers?” An airy chuckle escapes your lips as you follow Matt to the kitchen, a single eyebrow raising as you glance at the two McDonald’s bags on the table.

“Not much, just our regular. Nick hasn’t eaten yet so that’s probably why we have leftovers.”

You quickly whip your head around to send Matt a worried expression as he excuses himself to go to the fridge. “Nick hasn’t eaten yet?” You ask as you open one of the bags.

“Nope,” Matt replies with a soft huff. “He’s been in his room since this morning.”

You hum softly as you close the bag you’re looking into. “This is Nick’s right?” When Matt looks over in your direction, you gesture to the bag in front of you.

“Yup, that’s his.”

“Alright, ima head up to his room and see if he’s hungry.”

“Word. We’re going to film earlier than usual today so make sure he’s ready by five thirty.”

“Will do.” Matt sends you a small smile before he grabs a root beer from the fridge and walks towards his bedroom. As the brunette enters his room, you make your way upstairs to go to Nick’s. The moment you arrive at your boyfriend’s door, your eyebrows furrow together when you don’t hear a single thing coming inside. Usually the male would be playing music out loud or watching a show but all you heard was silence.

You hesitantly rest your hand on the doorknob and open the door with a soft creek, your features immediately getting illuminated by the LED lights in the room.

“Nick?” You call as you step inside the room. You gently shut the door behind you as your eyes scan the room in search of your boyfriend.

Where the hell is Nick?

“Nick~” You call again, dragging out his name as you set the bag in your hand down on the desk nearby. When you glance over at the closed bathroom door, you let out a sigh of relief when you see light creeping out from underneath the door. You quickly make your way over to the room and gently knock on the wood. “Nick? Are you in here?”

The sudden sound of something clattering to the floor startles you and you instinctively take a step back.

“Yeah, I- Hold on.” You hear Nick say, his voice muffled due to the shut door. More clattering runs through your ears before the faint sound of footsteps approaches the door. You quickly lift your head when the door opens and you can’t help the smile creeping onto your lips when you see Nick peek his head out from behind the door.

“Hi, baby.” You greet softly.

“Hi.” Nick breathes. Once the male fully opens the door, you quickly walk up to him and cup his face. You gently caress your thumbs over the redhead’s soft skin and forming stubble on his chin, your eyes momentarily shifting up to his blue irises.

“Have you eaten yet?” You ask, knowing the answer already as you land a quick peck on your boyfriend’s lips. At the redhead’s silence, you send the male a worried look and gently grab his chin with your thumb and pointer finger to make him look up at you. “Baby?”

“I’m not hungry right now,” Nick mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he looks down at the hem of the sweater hanging on your shoulders.

“You feeling sick or anything? It’s not like you to skip a meal.” As you set your hand on your boyfriend’s forehead to check his temperature, the boy quickly shakes his head.

“No, I feel fine.” Nick sends you a small smile as you lower your hand.

“Alright… Well, I brought you your food from the kitchen so if you’re hungry, it’ll be on your desk.”

Nick hums softly and slowly peels out of your hold to walk to his bed. You can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the male’s action and turn on your heels to watch the redhead climb into bed and bring his covers up to his shoulders.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask gently as you make your way over to Nick and take a seat on the mattress. Your boyfriend doesn’t respond and instead moves up to rest his head in your lap. He tilts his head a little so he can dig his face into your thigh, a heavy sigh escaping him as his shoulders drop. A frown makes its way into your lips as you gaze down at Nick.

Something is definitely wrong but you know prying would get you nowhere.

“Sweetheart, you wanna get up real quick so I can move into a more comfortable position?” Nick hums faintly and sits up to allow you to climb into bed. After comfortably situating yourself against the headboard, Nick immediately lays in your lap again. Your hand instinctively goes into the male’s red locks, your fingers carefully detangling some strands as they card through his hair. A content hum can be heard from the male in your lap as you quietly continue your actions.

“I missed you.’ Nick mumbles against your clothed thigh.

“I missed you too.” You say softly, a smile making its way onto your lips.

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Mh-hmm.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll just have to go back to my place to get a change of clothes.” Nick quickly lifts his head the moment the statement leaves your lips. You peer down at the boy and raise an eyebrow at him when he narrows his eyes at you. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“Don't act like you can't sleep in my clothes.” You chuckle softly as Nick lies back down. He takes a moment to dig his face in your thigh and comfortable before he continues, “I already put aside some stuff for you in the closet.”

“Did you now?”

Nick nods his head. “Your favorite hoodie is part of the pile. I seriously can't wrap my head around the fact that you can sleep in a hoodie without overheating.”

“I definitely overheat but I just like how your clothes smell.”

“You're fucking weird for that.” Nick lets out a surprised laugh when you jab your hand into his side. You watch with narrowed eyes as the redhead rolls off your lap and sits up, the blanket that was once at his shoulders falling to his lap. “Don’t do that!”

“Don't call me weird.”

“Well, you kinda are-” Nick gets cut off by you reaching over and grabbing his shoulders. The male lets out a small surprised yell as you force him down onto his back, his eyes widening when you hover over him. Before your boyfriend gets the chance to say anything, an anxious spew of giggles bubbles up his throat when you latch onto his sides. ‘Okay, OKAY! I take it back! Get off!”

“Are you just taking back what you said because I’m threatening you?”

“Well obviously… Now get your paws off me.”

A dramatic gasp escapes your lips as you gaze down at Nick. “PAWS?? Alright, you know what...”

“Wait, WAIT!’ Nick quickly grabs onto your hands and pries them off his body before you get the chance to do anything. “I’m messing with you!”

You hum lowly and narrow your eyes at the redhead. “Let go.” You state flatly.

“Promise not to touch me!”

“I won’t touch you.”

“Promise it!”

You sigh and hang your head low, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Fine.” You huff. “I promise I won’t touch you.”

“Okay…” Nick says slowly. He hesitantly releases his strong grip on your wrists and the moment you’re free, you plop down on top of him. Nick lets out a faint grunt the moment you do so and immediately wraps his arms around you. “God you're heavy.” You heavily sigh and dig your hand into Nick’s side the second that statement escapes his lips, your action immediately drawing panicked giggles from the male.

“OKAY, OKAY!” The redhead exclaims through giggles. Nick begins to squirm underneath you and quickly grabs onto your shoulders. “You fucking liar knock it off!” Nick’s giggles ring through your ears as he curls his body around your hand, both his hands continuously shoving your shoulders to get you up and off him. You continue your actions for a few more seconds before you stop and wrap both your arms behind the redhead’s back. A large smile spreads across your lips as Nick heavily pants and throws an arm over his face, a few giggles still escaping his lips.

“That’s low,” Nick mumbles.

“You were being an ass.” You say with a shrug as you slip an arm out from underneath the male to fiddle with one of the strings of his hoodie. “You should be thanking me to be honest.”

“THANKING YOU?!” You clamp your hand over Nick’s mouth at his loud exclamation.

“No need to yell, I'm right here.” You scold softly.

“Sorry,” Nick mumbles, his speech muffled due to your hand still being over his mouth. Once you remove your hand, the redhead huffs and frowns. “Again, thanking you?”

“Yes, thanking me.” As you rest your chin on Nick’s chest, the latter stares down at you with a confused expression. “You were clearly upset when I came in.”

“Oh.”

You lift your head slightly to lock eyes with Nick. “Is something wrong? You can tell me, you know. It’s not like I’ll judge.” You watch as Nick forces his lips into a straight line and averts his gaze to anywhere but you. After watching the male looking around the room aimlessly, you sigh softly and rest your head back down on his chest. “You don't have to tell me.” You say, your speech muffled due to the thick fabric of the hoodie covering Nick's body.

“Sorry,” Nick mumbles, his hand gently resting on the top of your head.

“Don’t apologize, there’s no need to. You can tell me whenever you’re ready.” You momentarily lift your head to land a quick peck on Nick’s lips before you return to lying on his chest. “By the way.” You start, earning a small hum from Nick. “Matt said to be ready by five thirty so you guys can film.”

“Alright,” Nick says softly as he leans back against the pillow he’s lying on. “Can we nap real quick? You know, before I have to go?”

“I was hoping you’d say that your warmth is making me tired.” You reply, your words slurring together as your eyes drift shut. You don’t even hear Nick’s response and only manage to feel his hand rubbing circles on your back before you drift off to sleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

LoveGame by Lady Gaga plays in your headphones as you make your way to the living room, a small pack of fruit snacks in your left hand and a can of coke in the other. You find yourself bopping your head along to the song, your lips mouthing the lyrics, as you seat yourself down on the sofa.

The triplets have been out for about an hour and a half to film their new car video. You quickly became bored out of your mind being alone in the empty and silent house and you had to figure out a way to entertain yourself as you waited for the boys to come back.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing right now.

You shift your body a little so you're comfortably lying on your back before you rip open the fruit snacks. As you pop a few in your mouth, you fail to hear the front door opening, the loud music playing in your ears being the culprit.

You also failed to see the triplets walk into the living room.

That was until you felt a tap on your knee. You quickly sit up at the small touch and rip the headphones off your head, the music still somewhat audible as you rest them around your neck. You immediately make eye contact with Chris who looks down at you with a worried expression.

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?” You ask, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach as you lock eyes with the male in front of you.

Chris raises a hand to rub the back of his nape, his lips forming into a straight line before he replies, “Nick’s crying.”

You feel your heart drop the moment the sentence escapes the brunette's mouth and you find yourself urgently standing up, the pack of fruit snacks and can of soda being long forgotten on the floor and couch cushion.

“Where is he?”

“Matt’s room.” You gently nod your head and make a break for the middle triplet’s bedroom, which is thankfully a few steps away. You knock on the door a few times to alert the people inside of your arrival before you let yourself inside. The moment you step foot inside, your eyes land on your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed and furiously rubbing his eyes. Matt is sitting on the left side of the male and pulls Nick into his chest, one of his hands immediately going to rub comforting circles on his back.

You practically run over to the two boys and crouch down in front of Nick, a worried expression painting your face when you hear the male faintly sobbing. You momentarily shift your gaze from your boyfriend to Matt, who’s sharing the same worried and concerned look on his face before you turn back to Nick. You slowly set a hand on the latter’s knee and go to pull away when the male flinches at the sudden touch.

“Baby?” You call softly, your thumb gently caressing Nick’s clothed kneecap. The redhead turns his head slightly and makes a small gap in between his fingers to look at you. “Can you move your hands, please? I wanna see your face, sweetheart.”

Nick furiously shakes his head and goes back to tucking his head against Matt’s chest. You sigh faintly and lean forward to rest your chin on your boyfriend’s thigh. As you gaze up at the boy, you catch the redhead looking down at you, a larger gap being made between his pointer and middle finger. You manage to make out Nick’s irritated red eyes before he sits up and attempts to cover his whole face with one hand, the other reaching for yours to firmly hold.

“Can you come up here, please?” Nick asks, his voice fragile and quiet as he squeezes your hand a few times.

“Yes, of course.” You reply and quickly get up from your position. As you go to sit next to Nick, you make eye contact with Matt who’s gazing up at you.

“Will you two be okay if I leave?” The male mouths. The moment you nod your head and ruffle Matt’s hair a little, the brunette slowly gets up from his spot on the bed and quietly exits the room. After ensuring the male shuts the door behind him, you take a seat next to Nick. The moment your boyfriend feels the mattress dip next to him, he immediately crashes into you, his face burrowing into your clothed chest. You slip your hand out of Nick’s hold to envelop the male in a tight embrace, your heart shattering into a million small pieces when you feel your shirt dampening.

Nick slithers his arms around your torso, his nails digging into your back as he silently cries against you. You allow the male to get all his feelings out as you rub comforting circles on his back with one hand and card your fingers through his hair with the other. It took a few more minutes of comfort for Nick’s cries to subside and soft sniffles to emit from him. You wait for your boyfriend to remove himself from your chest and hesitantly look up at you before you look at him.

“Oh, baby…” You mumble, your heart aching as you take in Nick’s puffy, red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You cup the side of the redhead's face with one hand and keep the other on his back before you begin to gently caress the male’s damp cheek. “Are you comfortable with telling me what happened?”

“Mh-hmm.” Nick hums, his eyes shutting as he fully leans into your palm. The male enjoys your delicate touch for a moment longer before he speaks up. “I saw some comments yesterday and they stuck to me. I saw more when we were filming today too. I’m usually able to handle hate comments because they’re fucking ridiculous and stupid but these hurt.”

“What were they saying if you mind me asking?”

“Most were fat-shaming me and others were calling me slurs. I haven’t been called a slur in a while so I’m guessing that’s why it stuck. But you know how self-conscious and insecure I am about my body so seeing people nitpick at that stuff just…” Nick cuts himself off as more tears well up in his eyes. You frown deeply and quickly wipe the warm liquid escaping the redhead’s eyes before they cascade down his face. “It just made me feel more bad about myself.”

“Sweetheart, can you do something for me?” You ask softly. Nick gently nods his head and sniffles as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Can you lay down? On your back?”

“Mh-hmm…” Nick hesitantly hums and moves back on the bed so he’s no longer on the edge before he lays on his back. After the male shuffles a bit to get comfortable, you crawl up and reach your arm over to rest it on the side of Nick’s shoulder. After situating yourself so you're hovering over your boyfriend, you bite back the smile threatening to form on your lips as you take in Nick’s shocked and flustered expression. “If you want to make out, I refuse to do it in Matt’s room.”

“We’re not gonna make out, hun.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Can you just trust me?”

Nick puts his hands up defensively and rests them on both sides of his head. You shake your head slightly before you lean down and begin to land soft pecks on Nick’s forehead. You slowly make your way down the side of your boyfriend’s face and make a trail of light kisses across his jaw, stopping near his right ear. You feel Nick shift underneath you, both his arms lowering and coming up to latch onto your shoulders. You take a glance over at your boyfriend and smile smugly when you see him squeeze his eyes shut, his lips forced into a thin line. You focus back on what you're doing and land a few kisses on the shell of Nick’s ear, a stifled chuckle escaping you when the male squeals softly and forces his ear against his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Nick giggles, his nails digging into your biceps.

“Stay still.” You state, completely ignoring the redhead’s question as you continue your trail of kisses down the side of his neck. Nick subconsciously tilts his head back to give you more access to his skin as you litter his entire neck with kisses for a few more seconds. You stay on a specific spot near the side of your boyfriend’s neck for a moment and take his skin in between your teeth.

“Baby,” Nick says warningly, a faint whine escaping his lips as you nibble on his skin.

“I’m moving, I'm moving.” You mumble against his skin. You stay true to your words and begin a trail of kisses down Nick’s clothed chest. You shift down to continue to kiss down the redhead’s torso and both of his sides. “You know…” You start, lifting your head to make sure your boyfriend hears your voice clearly. “I love every single part of your body. Every inch of it. I find you so fucking perfect.” You lower your head back down to Nick’s hips, your lips continuing to leave a trail of pecks down his leg.

You grab one of the male’s knees and push it up to allow yourself to leave longer kisses around your boyfriend’s thigh. You feel Nick tense, followed by his breath hitching, when you inch up closer to his thigh. When you get a little close to his crotch, you switch over to his other leg and repeat the same process you did moments ago. Once you get to Nick’s knee, you decide to tease the male a little by nibbling on his kneecap. The redhead lets out a surprised shout and immediately erupts into giggles as he pulls his leg away from your reach.

“Sorry, I had to.” You apologize with a giggle.

“Of course you and you. You can’t let me breathe for five minutes.” Nick huffs, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Oh, please.” You latch onto Nick’s thigh and drag him back to his original position before you crawl up so you’re face-to-face with him. You send your boyfriend a small smile before you dip your face into his neck and start another trail of kisses down his shoulder and left arm. When you get to his wrist, you quickly do the same with the other arm. Before you lift your head, you nibble the skin on Nick’s shoulder and smile into his skin when he whines and shoves your shoulder. You pull back with a small chuckle and capture Nick’s lips for a quick kiss. When you pull back, you cup the side of his face with one hand and keep the other on the side of his shoulder to keep yourself up.

“Baby?” You call as you begin to gently caress your boyfriend's cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah?” Nick replies as he blinks up at you, a stupid smile on his lips as he leans into your touch.

“Those people are fucking douchebags for leaving those comments. All they’re trying to do is tear you down and see you all down in the dumps. You don’t want them to win this stupid game, right?” Nick furiously shakes his head. “I know it’s hard to ignore all of the hate comments but I can guarantee that not a single one of these people will have the balls to say this shit to your face. And if one of them does, I will happily rock their shit because they have no right to say all these things about you. I think you are perfect in every way possible. I love your eyes, your nose, your smile, God how much I adore your smile, your tattoos, your hair, your arms which are getting a little buff if I may add.”

When you remove your hand from Nick’s face to squeeze his bicep, the male smiles widely and lightly hits your arm. “I know I don’t see your bare body much since you like to have something covering your torso at all times but I am sure that you look fucking perfect.” You move your hand down and land a few pokes on Nick’s stomach. The sound of him laughing softly brings a smile to your lips and you quickly halt your actions when the male grabs your wrists. “Your laugh is perfect as well. It’s so cute and contagious.”

“Alright…” Nick says, his voice trailing off as he looks to the side.

“Do you not think so?” You ask, a single eyebrow-raising. Nick hesitantly shakes his head and looks at you. “Well, I think it’s perfect and I'm not taking a no for an answer.” Nick sighs, knowing he can’t say anything that’ll change your mind and release you from his hold. When your wrists are free from his grasp, you lay down on top of the male and wrap an arm underneath him. “Also, one more thing.”

“What is it?” Nick lifts his head to lock eyes with you.

“I’m gonna post something on my story later to shut these fuckers up.”

“y/n…”

“You can’t change my mind.” You send Nick a large smile before you land a quick peck on his lips. After nibbling on his bottom lip, you pull back and rest your chin on his chest, and gaze into his eyes. Seeing that you’re staring intently at him, Nick grows flustered and covers his face with one hand and uses the other to softly push your face away.

“Stop staring,” Nick mumbles.

“I can’t help it, you're so pretty.” You can’t help but smile widely when Nick giggles and looks away. You gently pry the male’s hands away from his face and cup his face, the sight of his flustered face causing your smile to widen even more. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Mmm… Not as much as I do, I'm afraid.”

“Really? You wanna bet on it?”

“Absolutely.” Nick hums softly and grabs the base of your neck to pull you close and crash his lips onto yours. You let out a small noise of surprise at the male’s sudden action however you quickly melt into the kiss. Before you allow yourself to get too absorbed in the kiss, you pull back.

“Is that watermelon?”

“Yeah.”

“It tastes fucking amazing.” The second that sentence escapes your lips, you quickly plant your lips back on Nick’s to resume the small, yet somewhat heated make-out session.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @patscorner @frankdelreyy @sturnssan @kileybankzz @robins-scoop

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burntheedges · 8 days

Text

Maintenance Request Chapter 19

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 7.6k

chapter summary: you and Joel have your third date, a bit of a discussion, and try something new together when Joel stays at your place for the first time. 👀

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 fun fact, I wrote the second half of this chapter in a sort of fugue state, late one night during NaNo last year. I swear this just poured out of me. Joel knew what he wanted. 😂 happy chapter 19 on the 19th!

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), kink negotiation, some discussion of past relationships, somnophilia (kissing, fondling, p-in-v sex), mention of breasts, dream sex, dirty talk, a bit of crying while being fucked (in a good way)

Chapter 19

Saturday, November 9 Eleventh week of the semester

The rest of the week was a whirlwind – you saw Joel for at least a few minutes every day, and you talked on the phone most nights. By Thursday, you had your next date planned. Sarah had a sleepover on Saturday, so Joel was going to stay the night at your apartment. For the first time.

On Saturday, you caught Beth and Ellie up with your new relationship status – Beth had been pestering you about it since you’d told her about it over text (tell me everything!!) – and they immediately started complaining about how they hadn’t met him yet.

“I know! I know,” you wanted to wave your hands in front of their faces to get them to chill out. “I was thinking I could invite him to brunch next week.” You took a big gulp of coffee and watched their reactions.

Ellie narrowed her eyes and stared at you. Beth looked thoughtful.

“You sure you want him to meet both of us at once?” Beth asked, and Ellie snorted. “Throw him in the deep end?”

You shrugged. “I mean, he can handle it or he can’t. But I’m pretty sure he can.”

Beth smiled. “Fine with me. What about you, Hell’s Bells?”

Ellie glared at Beth for the nickname, as always, but you knew she secretly loved it.

“I guess that’s fine.” She furrowed her brow and stabbed a piece of egg with her fork. “If he does anything weird or fucked up I’m not gonna ignore it.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to. But he’s not an asshole.” She squinted at you. “I know, Ells. But you know I trust you, right? If you did notice something, I’d want you to tell me. And I’d listen.” You knew you weren’t really talking about Joel, at this point, but you wanted her to know that anyway. She nodded and sighed.

“Yeah I mean I do want to meet him. He can come to brunch.” Ellie shrugged.

“Thank you. I’ll ask him tonight.”

Beth nudged Ellie with her shoulder. “Maybe I can meet him this week for lunch, first, give you a full report.” Ellie laughed, but you could see the idea relaxed her a little bit.

“Oh!” Ellie sat up straight. “What are you cooking for him?”

Beth pointed at you with a forkful of pancake. “Do not make soup.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time!”

Ellie smirked. “Even if you don’t create Soup Geyser: The Sequel, it’s probably not a good date food. What if you spill it all over yourself?”

Beth laughed. “I dunno, maybe that’s a good thing. Then you can take your clothes off.”

Ellie dramatically gagged and covered her ears. “I don’t want to know about that!”

You and Beth both laughed as she started in on a monologue about how men, and hearing about her aunt dating them, were gross.

…

Later that afternoon, you’d just finished cleaning up and making sure the food was almost ready when you realized you needed to change before Joel arrived. You stepped into your bedroom and stripped off your shirt at the exact moment you heard a knock at your door. Shit.

You froze, not sure what to do, when he knocked again. “Shit,” you said out loud. You were standing in your bedroom in a lounge bra and sweatpants. How did you lose track of time so badly? You ran to the front door.

You hesitated once you got there but reasoned that Joel had already seen you naked, so you’d just open it and then run back to change. You nodded to yourself, and then opened the door, shielding your body behind it.

“Hey, darlin’, everything alright?” He looked like he’d been about to knock again. He eyed your bare shoulder.

“Sorry, Joel, wasn’t quite ready yet. You can come in and I’ll go change.”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Guess I am a little early.”

You laughed and invited him in, and watched as his eyes swept down your body. “You sure you need to change? I like this look.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Joel, go sit on the couch. I’ll be back in a minute.” He did as you said while you ran back to your room and changed into the outfit you’d picked out earlier (complete with some green lingerie underneath – it was his favorite color, after all).

When you arrived back in the living room, you found Joel looking at the pictures lining your fireplace mantle. “I recognize Ellie and Beth,” he said. “Is this your sister?”

You stepped up next to him and nodded. “Yep. And our parents.” You continued on your photo tour for a few minutes, introducing Joel to your family as you went. He snaked an arm around your waist and leaned in behind you.

“This shirt’s pretty on you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

You smirked at him over your shoulder. “Thought you liked the other look?”

Joel grinned, unrepentant. “I can like both, can’t I?” You laughed and led him into your kitchen.

“Sure you can. Have a seat, dinner will be ready in just a sec.”

He sat, and soon enough you joined him and placed the food in the middle of the table, which you’d set earlier, before he arrived. You poured him a drink and dug in. He complimented the food, sincerely, which made you smile.

“So, you’re officially invited to brunch next weekend.” Joel snapped his head up to meet your gaze. He looked surprised, and pleased.

“I am?”

You smiled. “Sure are. Got the Ellie-and-Beth stamp of approval.”

He grinned. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“We might do lunch with Beth during the week, first.”

He nodded. “Whatever they want, darlin’. I want Ellie to be comfortable.” He reached over to squeeze your hand. “That’s the most important thing.”

“Thanks, Joel. I know she’s not actually my kid, but in some ways she is.” He tilted his head at you, considering your words. “Yeah, I know it’s confusing. Well, you know Ellie’s 14. My sister had her right out of high school.”

“Not too different from when I had Sarah.” You nodded.

“Yeah, she had a rough time. Ellie used to come stay with me a lot, even when she was really little. And then, um. Right after I finally broke up with Matt, Ellie actually lived with me and Beth for about…” you looked up at the ceiling, counting back in time. “About 2 years? Almost. When she was 9.”

Joel nodded, taking that in. “It makes sense that you’re so close.”

You smiled. “Yeah, hard not to be. And Beth helped a lot, so they’re pretty close, too. But my sister is doing a lot better now. She used to, um…” You trailed off, thinking through what you wanted to say. “Well, part of the reason Ellie is more wary of people I might date is that my sister dated, um, more than a few men, and they were in and out of their house all the time. That’s part of the reason she lived with me. Not all of it.” Joel nodded, face solemn. He squeezed your hand between his own. “But yeah, she’s doing a lot better. She’s a nurse, works a lot of weekends and nights. Ellie has her own room here and sort of comes and goes as she pleases. Their relationship is a lot better than it used to be, too.”

“That sounds like it was hard, to send her back.” You sighed. He was so good at seeing right to the heart of what you were thinking. And feeling.

“It was, and it wasn’t. I’m so glad they’re doing better, you know? But I do miss having her here all the time, even now. And now she’s a teenager and wants to be with her friends anyway.”

He laughed a little. “I’m familiar with that change.”

You laughed, too. “Yeah, I bet. But she’s doing well in school and she actually talks to her mom about her life, so I feel like it’s going pretty well. And I sort of have my sister back.”

Joel scooted his chair a bit closer to yours and put his arm around the back. “Sort of?”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “Our relationship took a hit during all of that. But it’s getting better. We talk more now. She’s been teasing me about you.”

For a moment you both sat quietly as he considered what you shared and you leaned in to him, head on his shoulder.

“Everything I learn about you impresses me more, sweetheart.” He murmured his words into your hair, and it made you shiver.

“What? Joel–”

“It’s true.” he squeezed you against him. “Not everyone would do that, you know. Even for family. It’s…” he sighed. “I love watching you get to know Sarah. I know I’m going to love seeing you with your niece. It’s just something special. Getting to know you in every way I can.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his chin and felt him smile in response.

You were quiet again until you felt Joel shift underneath you. “Joel? What is it?” You leaned back to look at his face, and caught him staring at your cabinets with a frown on his face. “Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“Joel Miller, are you looking at my broken cabinet door and thinking about how you want to fix it?”

You watched as a flush took over his cheeks. “Maybe I am.” He sounded sheepish and you grinned.

“I don’t think I even have the tools you’d need. Sorry.”

He shook his head, frowning at you playfully. “What, not even a hammer?”

“Ok, I probably have a hammer. And maybe, like, a couple of screwdrivers.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll fix it another time.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Darlin’,” he cut you off. “I’ll fix it.” He smiled at you, amused by your protest. “You know it won’t take me even five minutes.”

You laughed, loving his confidence. “Oh yeah? Well, who am I to argue with my Hot Maintenance Guy?”

He bit back on a smile and tilted his head. “Thought I was Hot Construction Guy?”

You grinned. “You are. And Hot Maintenance Guy, and Hot Gardening Guy. Whatever I’d seen you doing that day.”

Joel laughed and pulled you into a short kiss. “Well, I’m definitely your maintenance guy. So I’m definitely gonna fix those cabinets.” You sighed, giving in.

“Not right now, though. We have better things to do.”

He perked up. “Oh? Like what?”

“Let’s clean up and then you’ll find out.” You winked as you stood to gather your plate.

Between the two of you, you made quick work of the dishes and leftovers. It was nice, doing something so domestic with Joel. You fit together by the sink and moved around each other in the kitchen like you’d done it before, like it was comfortable. You’d never smiled so much while doing dishes in your life.

“There is something I wanted to ask you about, honey.” You turned to look at him where he was washing a pot as you dried your plates.

“Oh? About what?” You saw a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth and narrowed your eyes.

“Just about what you said, when we were in bed after our first date.” You flushed, feeling the heat enter your cheeks. But you also appreciated that Joel was bringing this up while you were doing something so totally unrelated to sex. So you could focus. Or try to, anyway.

“Yeah, I remember.” You bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, well, did you, um. Can you tell me more about what you like? And don’t like? I like the sound of it, you know that, but I’d never want to get it wrong.”

“Um, yes. I, well. I like waking up and already…” You took a deep breath and told yourself to act like a freaking adult. “I like to already be having sex, basically. To wake up with your mouth on– on my pussy. Or your fingers inside of me. Or your cock.” You felt more than saw Joel’s sharp intake of breath and smiled. “It’s difficult to do that last one without waking me up, but it’s my favorite.”

Joel coughed. “I, um, I really want that, too.” You finally met his gaze with your own and you could see how much he wanted it. You held your breath. “Shit, sweetheart, that sounds so fucking good. I just… since you’d be asleep, I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing. Since I can’t check in with you.”

You put down the plate you’d finished drying five minutes ago and turned towards him, taking his hands in yours and drying them off with the towel. “I trust you, Joel. I know you’d do it how I wanted – make sure I’m ready, and all that.” You finished drying his hands and put the towel down on the counter before lacing your fingers through his. You considered your next words. “I don’t… we can use a safe word. We don’t have to talk about all of that right now.” He squeezed your hands in response. “But I do have one. We can use it, so you know when my reactions are good and if they’re not. I know I can’t use it while I’m asleep, but it could help.” He disentangled and lifted one hand to place it under your chin and guide your eyes back up to meet his.

“I’d like that, honey. And I’d like to talk about that more later, what other things you might like. That we might like together. But we can take it slow.” You nodded, smiling. “And, um. Well. Remember when I told you there were issues with Sarah’s mom that she didn’t know about?”

You nodded. “I do, but Joel, you don’t have to explain now–”

“No, I mean,” he interrupted you but then took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say, part of it was that we weren’t really compatible. At all. She thought, well. That some of the things I like are…” He trailed off and you tilted your chin to press a kiss to the hand still cupping your face, encouraging him. “She thought I was strange for wantin’ ‘em. Like all the sweet things I like to call you, honey, and how I like to call you mine. To her it was too much, not what she wanted. We can talk about it more but like I said, we can take it slow. Figure it out together.”

You felt the shiver run up your spine at the idea of learning what more he might like to try with you. “I just asked you to fuck me while I’m asleep, I think we can be honest with each other.” He grinned.

“So, tomorrow morning? Want me to try it?” You nodded. “I need to hear your words, sweetheart.” As he asked he slipped his right hand around the back of your neck and pulled you closer. His lips brushed yours and you shivered.

“Yes, Joel,” you felt your pulse pick up at the idea and heard the hitch in your breath.

“Yeah, baby? You’d want to wake up with me already inside you?” Your eyes fell closed and you nodded. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “Maybe my fingers? Maybe my tongue?” He licked the shell of your ear. You shivered and your hips squirmed as you pressed your thighs together. “You want to wake up to find my cock already deep inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed again. “I love it. Yes, please —” you cut off as he gripped your chin in his hand.

“Shhh, honey. Shit, what a good girl you are, letting me slip inside you while you’re asleep, huh? Take whatever I want? Give you what I want?” You sighed. “Can’t believe it. So fucking perfect for me.” He kissed your neck again as his thumb covered your lips, holding your mouth closed. He took a deep breath and relaxed again.

“Well, honey, I told you before. I’ll give you whatever you want. So I guess we’ll see in the morning, hmm?” You grinned under his finger and nodded. “But maybe we can get started right now.”

...

Sunday, November 10 Eleventh week of the semester

In the morning, Joel woke up first. Before he even opened his eyes, he felt the warmth — the warmth of the sun through the window, the bed beneath him, and the soft wonder of your body against his. You’d moved in the night, but not much. He was still wrapped around you, just with more space between your bodies, his right arm thrown across your waist. He blinked his eyes open slowly, careful not to move as he took in a deep breath and just looked at you.

You were on your side, turned away from him, but he could see the outline of your profile over your shoulder. You were peaceful in your sleep, mouth slightly open, eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. He stared, almost stunned to find you with him in bed again. How did I get so fucking lucky?

As he looked at you, careful not to move his arm, your discussion from last night came back to him and suddenly he was hard. He was so fucking hard, his cock filling so fast it took his breath away as the blood rushed south.

You wanted him to be inside of you when you woke up. It was a fucking dream even thinking about it. He wanted it, fuck, he wanted it so fucking bad, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. How could he manage it, without waking you?

He kept his breathing even, despite his cock urging him forward, and considered what to do. It was still early, and you’d told him you liked to sleep in on weekends. So maybe he had time on his side. (He always woke up early, because of Sarah.) The first thing he needed to do was get rid of his briefs.

Joel slowly, gently, pulled his arm up from around you. You shifted in your sleep, but he moved slowly and successfully snuck it away. You settled back into your pillow and remained deeply asleep. He sighed in victory.

Slowly, cautiously, careful not to shake the bed, he reached down to slide his briefs off, kicking them somewhere in the sheets. He watched you the whole time, but you breathed evenly, slowly. Still asleep. He smiled. Maybe he could do this.

He rolled back onto his side and considered you. You were a few inches from him. Maybe if he slowly came up behind you you’d snuggle into him in your sleep, making it easier to touch. He nodded to himself. That was probably the best way to start.

Slowly, trying to move like he was asleep himself, he scooted towards you on the bed until his chest came back into contact with your back. He slowed even more there, gently pressing against you until you responded in your sleep — your body titled back against his, moving unconsciously together until he had you spooned in front of him again. He was careful to angle his cock down, not to get it stuck against your ass. (Even though the thought of pressing in between your cheeks almost had him thrusting forward, overcome with want.)

Joel took a moment to breathe in his success. He had you wrapped in his arms again, and he could feel your naked ass pressed against his pelvis. It was so fucking good already. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He was close to what he wanted, but he didn’t want to fuck this up.

He carefully curled his body so his hips moved forwards, and his breath caught as his cock almost arrived right where he wanted it. The tip poked at the join of your thighs, and he sighed. Now what? How would he get any closer? He paused to consider his options again.

But you, it turned out, were on board, even in your sleep. Suddenly you let out a tiny, breathless moan, and he stilled. Peering over your shoulder, he saw that you were still asleep. A dream? He grinned. He could work with that.

Leaving his hips where they were for now, he lightly ran his fingertips up your torso until he was cupping your breast. He tried to use the lightest touch, to encourage your dream without waking you up. He teased the very tip of one finger over your nipple and your body relaxed against him, like you were a puppet and your strings were cut. He stilled again, but you were still asleep. He was on the right track.

He watched your face intently as he lightly teased your nipple with his fingertip. In your sleep, your mouth opened wider, and you sighed. He was mesmerized, watching as your tongue peeked out of your mouth, the tip just touching your bottom lip. He realized his own mouth was hanging open, the desire to lick inside yours almost palpable in the air around him. He suppressed a shiver.

Suddenly, you tilted your head to the side and whispered something. He leaned closer, not quite hearing you. To his great joy, you did it again, and he realized you had whispered his name. “Joel…” he grinned. He had to have you, just like this. Had to give you exactly what you wanted. He just had to figure out what to do about your legs.

He looked down and saw that your feet were twisting in the sheets. He wondered if this was his chance. Lightly slipping from your breast, he slowly moved his hand down to your thigh. You muttered something, but a quick check showed him you were still very much asleep. He only needed an inch, at most.

Ever so lightly, he gripped your thigh and pressed to ease it upwards. You were so fucking responsive, even in your sleep — you followed his instructions perfectly and your thighs shifted just enough for his cock to slip between them. He gasped, and then stilled as his eyes quickly sought your face again. Still asleep. He moved back to his previous position, hand on your breast, before thrusting slowly forward. His cock lined up perfect against your slit, and his eyes almost rolled back when he realized how fucking wet you were. Again. Fuck. His cock glided smoothly against you and he had to fight to keep from letting himself thrust inside, from filling you up right then and there.

Joel teased lightly at your nipple as he gently pulled back again before thrusting his hips forward once more. This time his cock nestled inside your folds and he heard a breathy little moan punch itself out of you when the tip of his cock nudged your clit. He grinned. Yes.

He kept that up for a few more thrusts — gentle movement, he told himself, slow and steady, so fucking wet, sliding so easily against you, fuck — watching your face like a hawk for any trace of wakefulness.

On the next pass, his cock almost caught against your entrance, and he stifled a deep moan of his own. Fuck me. That was the final hurdle, he knew. How could he slip inside you without waking you up? He’d have to go slow, ease into you, so slow and smooth you’d never notice.

He forced himself to keep his hands light, not to grip or pull or tug. At the same time his hips moved with almost terrifying precision. He knew you were wet enough, and still ready from last night. He just had to take the final step.

Joel took a deep breath and, eyes still locked on your face, let himself nudge at your entrance on the next thrust. He stopped there, just there, with the tip of his cock nestled right at the place he most wanted to be.

His heartbeat was racing and he felt winded. He wondered if his pounding heart would wake you before his cock did.

Gently, so gently it almost knocked him out, he pushed forward with his hips. The head of his cock pushed against you before sliding past your entrance, stopping just inside. Joel realized his mouth was hanging open as he stared at you. He felt torn. He wanted to look down, to see, but he was afraid if he looked away even for a moment you’d wake up. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on your face.

He pushed forward again, and he felt his cock sink deeper inside you. Fuck. Your cunt was fucking perfect. He had no idea how you could be so fucking wet all the time. Were you always like this? You’d said it was just for him, but did that mean you were always like this around him? Shit. Hold it together.

He was panting. He tried to keep it quiet, but it was so much. So fucking much. He blinked to keep his eyes from closing.

Joel took a deep breath, still focused on you, and took one more gentle thrust to slide himself all the way home. He bit down so hard on his lip to fight back a moan he was worried he drew blood. He realized he’d let go of your breast to clutch at the comforter beneath you and was in danger of leaning his weight forward to fall on top of you. He stilled. He panted. He stared at your face.

You were somehow still asleep. How?

He took the gift he was offered and moved. His hips pulled gently back, and he felt every inch of your cunt squeeze tight around his cock as he pulled out, until only the head of his cock was left stretching your entrance open. He breathed in through his nose, and then breathed out steadily while thrusting back in at that same slow, infuriating pace. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me.

He managed three or four more agonizing thrusts, doing everything he could to be silent and gentle, to keep you sleeping while he fucked you. He realized now the goal was for you to wake up, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. He paused inside you after his next thrust, taking a deep breath, looking over your slumbering face. He started to smile.

Slowly, gently, he leaned down towards your neck as he pulled almost all the way out of you again. As he slid home this time, just a tiny bit faster, he pressed a kiss to your neck, right under your ear. You moaned. His smile turned feral.

He continued like that, thrusting inwards and pressing kisses to your neck and your shoulder, getting wetter and sloppier each time. Your breaths started to come faster and faster, and then he noticed your hips were starting to push back against his.

His eyes flew back to your face. He had to see it. He wanted to see the exact moment you woke up and realized he was doing as you asked, he was doing what you wanted. He was giving it to you just right.

He wanted to push you over the edge. On his next thrust he cupped your breast again, and your voice was clearer this time, calling out to him in your sleep. “Yes, Joel, yes,” he teased your nipple and thrust forward. “Joel,” you called out, brow furrowing. He knew it was coming. He stared at you, and on the next thrust, he pinched your nipple at the same moment his cock bottomed out inside of you.

It was fucking heaven. Fucking transcendent. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Your hands grasped at nothing until they found his arm, and you clutched at him. He pulled out again and thrust back inside you, hard, and you cried out. He smiled.

…

You were having the most amazing dream. Everything was warmth and pleasure and there was a man holding you and you knew it was Joel. Joel, wrapped around you. You were floating together, somehow, twisting together as he spooned you from behind, but somehow also kissed you and touched you, everywhere. You sighed.

His embrace tightened and you hitched your leg over his. “Mm, that’s my good girl,” you heard him say, and it melted through you like hot chocolate. “That’s it, baby. Show me.” You weren’t sure what he wanted you to show him, so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. “Fuck yeah, baby. Let me see that tongue.”

Dream Joel, somehow spooning you and making out with you at the same time, licked your tongue as you stuck it out for him. The slide of your tongues together made you press your thighs tight. “You’re so goddamn hot baby,” he muttered in your ear while making out with you. You moaned back, somehow still kissing him, “Joel.” He grinned at you, wicked and intent. He bent down suddenly to lick at your nipples and you gasped. “Joel!” He smiled and you hummed at the feeling of him worshiping your tits.

In your dream the two of you were floating upwards, towards something — there was light above you, and warmth below you. Everything felt amazing.

Dream Joel ran his hands down your body, grasping at your hips and your legs. You smiled. “Love the way you look, honey,” he murmured, and you told him you loved the way he looked, too. He smiled. “Open up for me, then, sweet thing. Let me inside.” You did as he asked and opened your legs. Dream Joel, talented man that he was, managed to kiss you and eat you out at the same time, and you sighed into it, mouth opening for him again. And then you felt something warm and hard and gorgeous slide against your pussy. You sighed and pushed back onto it.

“Inside, Joel,” you tried to demand, your voice weak and breathy. He chuckled, darkly. “Not yet baby, wanna feel you.” He slid his cock back and forth against your soaking wet pussy and you moaned. “You feel so good on my cock, honey. You hear that?” You listened, and you heard him panting behind you, heard the slick glide of his cock as it nestled in your folds. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re so wet for me.”

“Always,” you sighed out.

“I know you are, baby. Can’t stop thinking about it, about sneaking my fingers inside your underwear everywhere we go, see if you’re ready for me. Ready for me to slip inside you, no matter where we are.”

You nodded. “Always ready for you, Joel. Always want you inside me. Want you inside me right now.”

“Honey I told you, I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t you worry.” Dream Joel slid back again, and on his next thrust his cock notched right at your entrance, and you sighed. “Yes, please, Joel.”

“Shhh, honey. Just let me give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want, you know that. All you have to do is lie there and take it.” You moaned as he pressed the head of his cock inside of you. It felt huge and perfect and warm and like you never wanted to be without it.

Dream Joel rubbed his hands up your torso as he fucked into you from behind. “That’s it, honey. Take me inside you. Let me fill you up. Let me stuff my cum so deep inside of you it’ll be dripping out for hours.” Your breath caught at the idea and you started to breathe harder and faster. He pinched your nipples and thrust into you, hard. “Feel it, honey? Feel how perfectly my cock fits inside this cunt?”

“Yes, Joel, yes,” you cried, almost crying for real. “I need it.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he crooned, softly. “You’re such a good girl, you know that? Such a good fucking girl for me. Letting me put my cock inside you whenever I want, letting me fill you up. Sitting on my cock like an angel. Like you were meant to be right here, in my lap.” Dream Joel thrust inside of you again, and you cried out.

“Joel, please,” you sighed as your brows pinched together. The dream suddenly felt so real, so physical, you couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. You were spinning, falling, and when you crash landed back into your body you gasped.

Your eyes flew open and all you could feel was Joel. He was fucking everywhere. His body was pressed all along your back, his fingers pinched your nipple, his mouth was on your jaw.

And his cock was hard, and it was deep, deep inside of you.

Your head flew back as you gasped for air, staring up at the ceiling without seeing. Your hands grasped for purchase on something, anything that would hold you there, keep you from flying apart and spiraling into the air, until they found his arm and you held on for dear life. Suddenly Joel pulled his hips back and then thrust inside of you, hard. You cried out, maybe his name, maybe no words at all. Fuck. You needed to catch your breath. Your hips were pinned under his, your pussy wet and dripping and tightening around his cock. You could feel a tear slip from your eye to land on the pillow under your head. Fuck me.

Before you could even try to make sense of your surroundings, to catch your breath, Joel’s lips found your ear.

“Good morning, honey.” His voice was deep and rumbling and fucking vicious. He thrust inside you again, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Your next breath came out like a sob. “How’d you sleep?” You felt a tear form at the edge of your eye again, and he curled forward to kiss it away. “Shh, baby, you’re ok. You’re so fucking good, honey, my good fucking girl.” He thrust inside of you again, and his cock slid against you so easily, so wonderfully, that you breathed through another sob. “Honey?”

You realized, distantly, that he was starting to worry about you. You squeezed his arm. You had to say something.

“Y— yes, Joel. Yes.” You felt him grin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, honey? That feel good?” You nodded, frantically, reaching one hand back to grasp at his hip. “You want it bad, don’t you? Want this cock to split you open?” Your breath hitched, again. “Want me to push deep inside you, don’t you, sweet thing? Fill you up? Leave you fucking dripping?”

Real Joel echoing Dream Joel spun you upwards again, disorienting you in your pleasure. You whined, and thrust your hips backwards towards him. He pulled out and slammed his cock back into you, pulling back on your hip to urge you onto him. “Fuck, honey, you need it, don’t you? You need it so bad.” You could only grasp at him and nod, feeling another tear run down the side of your face. He kissed that one away, too.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can have this cock whenever you want.” He thrust forward again, pinning you to the bed. Your right knee bent in front of you and he followed, curving his body into the same position, somehow driving his cock deeper. “It’s yours. Yours to use, honey. Yours to touch, to lick, to sit on whenever you want.” He started up a steady pace, pushing his cock inside of you so deeply, so right on every thrust. Your face was turned, left side on the pillow, profile still open to him. He pressed kisses everywhere he could reach.

“I’m going to make you come, honey. And I want to see it.” He curved his right hand over your hip, seeking out your clit with his fingers. “I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me, baby, squeeze me so fucking tight.” You sighed into the pillow. “Can you do that for me? Yeah, ‘course you can. Be a good girl, honey, and come for me.”

His fingers started circling your clit, and you felt it building inside of you like a tidal wave. It was almost too much, so much, more than you could handle. You were actually crying now, tears running down your face that he kissed away. “J— Joel,” you whined, and he twisted to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“That’s right, honey. Let me have it. It’s mine.”

Something about the way he claimed it, claimed you, sent you over the edge. You flew over it, into the air, twisting, falling, electrified. The orgasm erupted through you, and you felt more wet gush out of you, absolutely soaking his cock. He groaned.

“Holy fucking shit, honey. Yes. Fucking give it to me.” He talked you through it, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. It shuddered through you and you clamped down on him as your orgasm crested. You sobbed one more time, and he bit down on your shoulder to ground you.

As you came down, you realized his hips were speeding up. You whined and thrust your hips backwards again. You wanted it. You wanted him, inside of you, dripping out of you, like he promised. He nodded, seeming to understand.

“That’s right, honey. I’m going to give it to you. That’s what good girls get, right? And you were perfect, honey. My good fucking girl.” You clutched at the pillow as you pushed your hips back, trying to tilt them to give him the best angle. He sank deeper, somehow, and moaned. “I’m going to give it to you so deep, baby, so fucking deep.” He sighed, dreamily. “Fuck.”

His thrusts picked up, and you let yourself drift, feeling perfectly used as Joel pumped his hips into yours. His thrusts caught, uneven, and you heard him groan from deep in his chest. He clutched at you, with one final, devastating thrust, and came. His mouth was hot on your ear as he said your name in a voice that made it sound like a prayer.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were both breathing hard, and you were a fucking mess — wet, everywhere — cum all over, sweaty, and tears that had dripped down your face and soaked your pillow.

Joel sucked in a deep breath and carefully, gently, pulled out of you. You still gasped — you were sensitive from the night before, still, and he’d just fucked you so hard you’d cried, for god’s sake — but he was so soft and gentle with you that it barely hurt.

He flopped to your left on the bed, and with a groan, you heaved yourself onto your right side so you could look at him. You fell in the wet spot, but honestly, the entire bed was probably a wet spot at that point.

He turned his head, and for a minute you just looked at each other. You’d thought you’d seen him wrecked before, but that was nothing. You could see, now, what it actually looked like. And he was wrecked. You imagined you were the same. His hair was wild, his face was awestruck. He was red and sweaty and fucking beautiful.

Slowly, he started to smile, and you returned it. Then he laughed, and you laughed back. Soon you were both giggling into your pillows, curled towards each other, linking fingers in the damp sheets.

Joel took a deep breath, and managed to stop giggling long enough to say, “I think you might have killed me, honey. Can’t move my legs.” You giggled and buried your face in the pillow. “No, I’m serious. First you knock me over with the idea of fucking you awake, much less telling me to do it? Jesus, I almost came before I ever got inside of you, trying to figure out how to do it without waking you up. Best fucking idea I’ve ever heard, honey, shit. Holy fucking shit.” He sounded winded, and awestruck. Like he couldn’t believe that just happened. “You were so beautiful, baby, taking it so well, even in your sleep. Couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.” He sighed, grinning. “Jesus, when can we do it again? I wanna do it again. How’s every goddamn morning sound to you?” You laughed outright. He cleared his throat. “Was it, um. Was it what you wanted?” He looked hopeful, and a tiny bit worried. You didn’t know how he could be, not after you came harder than you ever had in your life. So you told him that.

“Joel. I just came harder than I ever have in my entire life.” You figured he needed to hear it, and his answering grin told you he appreciated it. “I can’t feel my legs, either.” He laughed, and you tracked it across his face. Beautiful. “It was so fucking perfect. I was having the best dream about you, I guess because of what you were doing to me for real, and then suddenly the dream and reality came together and I— fuck.” You closed your eyes against the memory of that moment. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“It was fucking beautiful to watch,” he murmured, eyes traveling over your face and chest. “Never seen anything like that, either.”

You smiled. “In my dream you were fucking me from behind, and it just… melted into real life. I felt like I fell back into myself and couldn’t tell up from down in the best fucking way.” You bit your lip. “Every morning, huh?” He winked at you. “I dunno, if you make me come like that every day I might not make it to work.” He laughed, and finally reached for you again. You went easily as he pulled you into his chest, pressing your bodies together. You sighed, sinking into him happily.

“You fit so well in my arms, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. “Let’s just stay right here, for a while.”

You hummed, agreeing, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You were both quiet for a moment, just letting the moment wash over you, when you felt him tense.

“Joel?” You questioned lightly, wondering what he was thinking.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat. “Just want to make sure of something, honey. You were, well, the crying. Was that… ok?” He sounded so careful, so worried, it made your heart clench.

“Yes, Joel. That wasn’t just ok.” You tilted your head back to meet his eye so he could see the sincerity on your face. “It was exactly what I wanted. It was perfect.” He relaxed, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Sometimes I cry during sex. Not all the time, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing when it happens. Like just now, it was a really, really good thing.”

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded, “but I wanted to make sure I was reading you right. Would be a pretty upsetting thing to get wrong.”

The two of you nestled back into each other, holding tight, breathing in deep together as you came down from the intensity of the sex you’d just had. It had been beautiful, and rough, and exactly what you wanted, and now you were worn out. In his arms was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while you started to doze off again, but you didn’t want to sleep the morning away, so you shook yourself back awake. You stretched, idly, and you felt Joel’s gaze on you. You looked up to find him admiring your legs as you stretched them along the bed.

“See something you like, cowboy?”

He smiled. “You know I do, gorgeous.”

“Want to get up, grab some breakfast, maybe?” Joel smiled and nodded, but pulled you in rather than letting you get up.

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

You smiled.

…

Joel drove you to a diner about halfway between your apartment and his house. You’d never been there, but had driven past it many times, and told him so.

“This is a favorite of ours,” he told you as you both climbed out of his truck. “Sarah usually demands it at least once a month. We have family breakfast with Tommy.” You smiled at the thought.

Breakfast was easy, full of easy conversation and light teasing. Joel snuck some of your food and you retaliated by drinking some of his coffee. His feet nudged yours under the table as he grinned at you, and you rested your chin in your hand to watch him watch you across the table. It really drove home for you how much you liked being around Joel. The sex had been mind-blowing, obviously, like always, but you’d also spent weeks circling each other before finally starting to get to know each other over lunches and coffees and now dates. Every moment you spent with him showed you there was something more, here. It was in the way he couldn’t look away from you, the way he listened so carefully, like he always did, as you told him silly stories about the diner in your hometown. The way he remembered tiny details from everything you’d ever told him. You felt yourself falling, just like you’d told Beth.

It was scary, but it was also pretty wonderful.

...

a/n: 😏

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fw00shy · 7 months

Text

Slow Days, Bad Habits

When Draco told Pansy he was moving to Los Angeles, Pansy said, "Fuck off, you're not." It was a Thursday and the afternoon sun stretched over Pansy's fire escape patio like a lazy cat. Draco fished out the olive from his glass and ate it, saying, "No, I really am," when he really wasn't — lying was a bad habit of his, and he was five martinis deep — but the next day he woke up thinking: Why not?

Doing what he wasn't supposed to do was a relatively new bad habit of his (sure he used to break rules, but he never broke Father's rules) but it was by far his favourite. Doing the unexpected. Turning heads. Like when he wore the shirt the Muggle orphanage gave him for painting walls to one of his mum's "Sorry We Lost the War" benefits and Daphne said, "You? Volunteering? No way, I bet a thousand Galleons you bought that from a thrift store."

Los Angeles was everything London wasn't and everything Draco wanted to be. Cars built to go 300kph putting bumper-to-bumper down wide, yawning freeways. Plastic surgery to cover up whatever you didn't like about yourself. Every day Draco looked in the mirror and changed something different. What if he had a different nose? A larger mouth? Would his life change for the better? Some days he wished he had more time to figure out how to turn his life around. Other days it was a lot easier to let his eyes droop until every second stretched long and he lost track of it, another day lost in the waste of his life.

When Draco saw Harry at the farmer's market he knew Harry had moved to Los Angeles to disappear. He knew this because Harry wore dark glasses and a cap pulled low over his scar. He knew this because the papers had reported Harry missing four years ago, and had never found him since. He knew this because he had moved to Los Angeles to disappear, too. Draco bought his oat milk and his strawberries and walked back home with them tucked under his arm, like his little secret. That was another bad habit of his now: secrets. Anything could be a secret if he wanted it to be. His favourite bench at the park. The line from an Ada Limon that made him cry. Waves crashing against the pier. The scent of jasmine in his mother's garden. And now, Harry, in LA. All his secrets. All just for him.

Draco saw Harry at the farmer's market again the following week, around 1pm when the stalls were packing up and the baskets of strawberries numbered in the ones and twos. Draco came to the farmer's market every week and some weeks they ran out of what he liked, but he was fine with that; this was the time best suited for him.

Draco watched Harry meander past the stalls, his hands behind his back, like he was browsing with no intent to purchase. But why? Maybe he was a ghost. Draco chuckled at the thought, and then he saw Harry walking toward him.

"I won't tell," Draco said. "So don't Obliviate me, please. I like my memories. Or the recent ones, anyway. I mean, they're nothing special. Just things like, eating a good peach. The sun sinking into the sea. Waking up and not being too hot or too cold. Normal things." (Running his mouth: maybe the original bad habit?)

Harry blinked slowly, his mouth slightly agape. He didn't look like he was going to attack Draco. He wasn't even carrying a wand.

"So," Draco said, smiling, a little more confident now. "I won't tell if you won't tell?"

"You live here too?"

"Sure do," Draco said. "Do you want to come over?"

So it was their secret now.

Which was fine. More than fine, even. Draco didn't normally like to share, but he sure did like breaking rules. Especially his own.

#drarry #fwoosh writes #drarry squad #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #wildly #i seem to have 1k+ followers on this lil blog #thank you very much for following me!

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year

Text

Remember me

Summary: You haven't been able to reach Jack since he left for a business trip, making you worried. Having no other way to contact him, you decide to drive to Statesman, unprepared to find him walking out of the building perfectly fine. You question your relationship, asking yourself if he would just ghost you after so many years of friendship until a Cowboy finds you crying in your car, and tells you everything about Statesman. And what happened to Jack.

Pairing: Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: G

Warnings: memory loss, Friends to lovers, little angst, some fluff

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts since December. Hope you like it (cause I'm not sure I do lol)

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“When will you be back?” you listened to his steady heartbeat, your ear on his chest.

His arms were around you, cuddled under the warm covers of his king sized bed.

“A week. Tops,” he hummed and you felt him kiss the top of your head. You smiled, pressing your lips to his chest.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumbled.

“You won’t even notice I’m gone, sugarplum.”

“Hello, This is Jack. Leave a message after the…”

You sighed, ending the call. Again. It’s been almost three weeks.

Three weeks in which you hadn’t seen or talked to Jack. He usually finds a way to let you know, if his job takes longer.

You did not know exactly what he was doing, but you had your suspicions. He was often gone for weeks, not being able to contact you.

Which was a surprise when you first learned about it, being under the impression that he was the CEO of a whiskey distillery.

“One day I’m gonna tell you everything about it, sugarplum,” he used to say. And for whatever reason you trusted him that he would. Even way before you both finally realised that your friendship was way more than that.

You hadn’t been together for a long time.

But you had known Jack for years.

The little coffee shop you owned apparently lay on the way to his work and he started stopping by almost six years ago when he moved to a little town just outside of the city.

You would always remember the first time he stepped into your little café.

You had seen your fair share of cowboys throughout the years but Jack? Deep down you just knew he would be trouble.

You just did not know if in a good or in a bad way.

He had ordered a plain black coffee and a muffin for breakfast.

“Surprise me, Sugarplum,” he’d smirked at you when you asked him what kind of muffin he wanted. And yeah, that southern charm was trouble from the first day.

After that he came in every single day on his way to work. You’d only learn that he sometimes stopped by in the afternoon too much later, one of your employees telling you that he seemed a little disappointed when he did not see you.

He had only asked for your actual name almost half a year later.

The friendship that had formed between the two of you always lingered on the line to becoming something more.

It started with him inviting you to go out to the farmers market out of town one saturday.

Then you invited him for a home cooked dinner which quickly became a weekly Thursday night thing.

You started spending time at his farm outside of town too. He had beautiful horses, some cows and chickens.

He taught you how to ride and care for the horses.

You would have thought he had a dog too, but instead he had two cats called King and Queen.

Two very cute fluffy white cats who followed him wherever he went once he got home.

They loved to sleep on top of Jack when you had movie night. There might be a folder of pictures in your phone just of him with the cats.

It would take more than five years of friendship until one drunken night left you sleeping in his bed, waking up the next morning in his arms, his lips brushing over the back of your neck, asking is this okay to which you only nodded while he kissed himself down your neck until you turned in his arms so he could kiss your lips for the first time.

He took you out for your first date that very same night.

You had talked to each other every single day in the last months, even when he had to get away. You practically had moved into his house, leaving your apartment in the city just for the occasional nights when you were too tired to drive back to his place after work.

Or you stayed there when Jack was gone. His house feeling way too big and empty without him.

But earlier today you had been at his place, finding it as deserted as it had been the last weeks.

You had no idea how to contact him outside of his phone number. You did not have any information on contacting his family or friends. The latter only being two men you had met briefly throughout the years.

What you did know however was where he worked.

You took a deep breath, exhaling through your mouth as you looked at yourself in the mirror as you got ready for work.

You missed him.

You loved him.

Maybe it was time to drive to Statesman across town to finally get some answers.

You had been staring at the entrance for an hour.

You hadn’t planned on staring at the entrance for an hour.

You were about to get out of your car and demand answers but then you saw him walk out of the door.

Jack.

He was smiling as he talked to another man, one of his friends you had met whose name you had already forgotten, before you saw him climb into his Bronco and speed off.

Why was he ignoring your calls?

Why didn’t he let you know that he was alive and well?

A constant stream of questions seemed to go through your head, only stopped when someone knocked on your car window.

You blinked your eyes before you let the window down, an older man, another cowboy, looking at you.

“Evening Ma’am. I noticed that you have been waiting here for a while and I was wondering if you need any help?” he asked.

You sighed.

“Yes… No. Sorry. I’ll… I’ll leave,” you mumbled, still confused.

“Are you okay?” he asked and you huffed a laugh.

“Just asking myself if my boyfriend decided to ghost me on purpose. He’s working here, you know? Haven’t seen him in almost a month, haven’t talked to him, but I just saw him walk out of those doors, looking perfectly fine to me.”

You were rambling.

“I haven’t even told him that I love him. I think he loved me though. We’ve known each other for a long time. Used to flirt shamelessly with me every day when getting a coffee.”

“Now hold on there for a minute there,” the Cowboy said and your lips pressed shut, looking at the man.

“You don’t happen to be talking about a tall Cowboy with a preference for banana strawberry muffins from that little café across town?” he asked you.

“I bake the muffins myself,” you whispered, looking at him.

The man sighed.

“Jack didn’t tell me he finally got his head out of his ass and made a move on you. You might wanna come inside with me? I think you deserve some answers.”

You were staring again.

This time not at the entrance of Statesman, but at the door of Jack’s Farmhouse.

The house that had become a home to you more than your own apartment was.

Agent Champagne, Champ for friends, had explained to you that while Statesman was still a distillery, it always was a front for a secret organisation.

And Jack was one of its Agents. One of the best apparently.

Something had happened on his last mission and the short explanation was that he had come back from the dead and might have lost more memories than the agency first thought.

Champ had encouraged you to drive out and visit Jack. He’d apparently been talking about stopping by the next morning at the café. He had only been released from the medical wing today.

He didn’t almost die, he had been dead.

For almost three hours before they could bring him back.

You took a deep breath before you got out of your car, walking the familiar path towards his house. Out of habit you reached for the key he gave to you to unlock the door, stopping with a head shake before you brought your hand up to knock on his door.

The time it took before you heard footsteps behind the door seemed like hours, giving you time to school your face into a neutral expression when the door opened, revealing Jack standing in front of you, dressed in dark sweatpants and a faded Game of Thrones shirt. Your shirt.

His face lit up when he saw you.

“Sugarplum, I wasn’t expecting you,” he said with a smile and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, as you smiled at him.

“Hi Jack,” you whispered as you looked up at him and as if it was pure instinct he opened his arms for you as you took a step towards him, his strong arms wrapping around your body as he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt, feeling his arm tighten around you.

“Are you sure, you’re okay sugar?” he asked and you took a deep breath before you looked up at him, finding his eyes looking down at you with concern.

“I think we need to talk,” you said quietly. He frowned, but nodded, before he released you to close the door.

King and Queen were sitting on either side of you as you sat on the sofa, waiting for Jack to come back from the kitchen. He’d offered to make tea and you had agreed, using the time to gather your thoughts.

King was climbing into your lap as Jack came from the kitchen, your favourite mug, the one he had bought you only a couple weeks ago in his hand, your favourite tea in it.

He set the mug down on the coffee table before he sat down on the couch next to you.

“These two usually hate people,” he hummed, his hand stroking over the fur of Queen who meowed before she laid down in between the two of you.

“I’m not just any people,” you smiled a little and Jack smiled back.

“No you’re not,” he said warmly.

“How was your work trip?” you asked and if he was taken aback by your question he did not show it.

“Longer than expected but okay in the end. I’m actually gonna stay for a while now. Got some time off,” he explained and you nodded.

“Did I tell you about leaving town?” he frowned in the next moment.

“You did,” you whispered, your hand stroking King on your lap who was puring by now.

“Jack, what’s the last thing you remember? About me?” you asked.

He seemed confused before he took a deep breath.

“I… I think the last time I saw you you were cooking in my kitchen? Some roast that burnt…” he murmured.

You nodded.

“Okay. That was… almost three months ago. It was your birthday. And I promised to make your favourite dish,” you said as you carefully took the mug of tea to drink some.

He looked at you as if trying to figure you out.

“We watched Star Trek after and you told me how you hated the new ones,” you continued, but he just kept looking at you.

“I… I don’t remember?” he said and you closed your eyes, releasing a deep breath.

“Jack, I talked to Champ today. And he… he told me what happened to you,” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip in.

“Why would he do that?” he asked.

“Because usually when something happens to an Agent on the job their family or spouse is informed. But we… you hadn’t told anyone. About us yet.”

“Us?” he asked, looking at you.

“We’re… We’re together. Or we have been until you had to leave for your last job? I’m not really sure what we are now. I mean you can’t remember me…”

“I do remember you. I just… this is…”

“A lot. I know,” you sighed, fighting down the tears as you looked at him.

“We both… Really? I finally told you how I felt?” he asked after a while and you huffed a laugh.

“Not really. We were both drunk and I woke up in your bed…. we kissed the first time tight then in your bed,” you explained and he nodded.

“I was wondering whose clothes were in my wardrobe,” he said with a huff and you nodded.

“I… you actually asked me to move in with you before you left.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“And you had no idea what happened these last weeks. I’m so sorry,” he reached over, squeezing your hand.

“You’re very relaxed for someone who just got told he has a girlfriend he can’t remember.”

He chuckled.

“Let’s just say, worse things have happened on the job.”

“Gee thanks,” you rolled your eyes with a smile and he grinned.

You sighed.

“Well, I’m just gonna grab some stuff and leave you alone,” you gently put King from your lap, standing up.

“Why?” Jack asked, also standing up.

“Because you can’t remember me, Jackson,” you smiled sadly.

He shook his head.

“I do remember you. I remember everything about you. Just not… the most important part. The part where I finally got you in my life like I’ve wanted for a long time,” he whispered, taking a step closer towards you.

You sighed.

“What if you help me remember?”

“What are you proposing?”

“They… They use triggers when getting someone back. They always use a picture of my late wife that usually gets my brain back in the right lane. And it worked to some extent.”

“Just not for me,” you could not help the tears escaping your eyes now and Jack came even closer, his hands framing your face, as he wiped your tears away.

“I knew something was missing. I just did not know what,” he whispered. You closed your eyes.

“I know that I’m in love with you though,” he said and you gasped, opening your eyes.

“I have been since the day I took you out to the farmers market. When I saw you in that beautiful dress I’m sure my heart stopped.”

“Jack,” you smiled through your tears.

“So you see, I do remember you. I remember everything about you. I just don’t remember finally being with you.”

“You haven’t even told me you loved me yet,” you whispered and he groaned.

“Pre Memory loss Jack was a real dumbass,” he grinned and you chuckled.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed and then his lips were on yours. And it was if no time had passed, your arms wrapping around his broad back as you melted against him, his lips moving on yours, his moustache tickling you, making you grin against his lips.

“I love you sugarplum,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled.

“I love you too, Jack.”

#my fic #jack Daniels x fem. reader #jack daniels #Pedro pascal #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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write-and-buried · 2 years

Text

Celestial Navigation

Part One - New Moon

Summary; Chris was supposed to be the next step, not leave you single and with the bill. But that's fine. You just need space out of the storm, somewhere calm and quiet to plan.

Warnings; Dieter has a *very* dirty mind.

A/N; Welcome to this unhinged madness that is a Dieter Bravo coffee shop AU. Massive thanks to @radiowallet, @jazzelsaur, @the-ginger-hedge-witch, & @astroboots for putting up with me hollering like a lunatic about this fic for the last few weeks <3

Also! You'll notice in the summary that it says chris. I changed my mind and called him Josh - and I refuse to fix the error 😅😅

[Series Masterlist] // [Main Masterlist] [next]

You could put the sadness in a box. It was small and smooth edged, easy enough to wrap with other inconsequential things and store somewhere to be dealt with later. It could be a remember when, a funny story, told over cocktails with friends in the distant future, a Thursday night not too late so you can get up for your early meeting.

Remember the time, I got dumped over $2 tacos and he didn’t even pay?

It’s not that Josh was the mythical one. You didn't believe in that to begin with, that there was a perfect twin for a debated soul, someone that filled the gaps you were missing. But you fit together anyway, just a head taller than you, his California blonde hair bright as his smile in photos. He was a junior partner at Kirkland & Ellis, and that was reason enough to leave you with a twenty dollar cheque and a somewhat bruised heart.

You’d called in to the office, telling them you were taking the rest of the day. Your boss hummed down the line and hung up. You were convinced she didn't even know your name. Why would she, one of a hundred interns vying for the same three salaried positions at the end of the year. You were sure you were towards the top of the heap.

But it was better to miss an afternoon and not be thought of, than to be the girl crying in the toilet. One hundred other interns, 86 of which were men, 44 of which had parents in the industry, a good word and a halo already. You knew two of those spots would be nepotism picks. You were hoping they didn’t pick Crystal. Her father was the namesake of the second biggest financial advisory firm in the city. You were working for the first. And you could bet your merger pay check that only one of those spots was for a woman.

All the extra curriculars, all the tests, all the late nights and refusal of party invitations got you this far. Got you into the intern program, only to discover that your grades were the same as your peers, you were all top of the class. And while you mixed and matched your daily suits, they had dozens they could choose from. You dug through thrift stores to find shirts with collars, they had staff to do it for them. Their apartments were paid for by their parents. You wondered if roaches would pay rent.

You had decided to walk, bag tucked close to your side as you swiped away the few stray tears that didn't fit with sadness. Josh was supposed to be the next step. He was supposed to clear a drawer for you, offer you a key. 8 months of dating and relatively mediocre sex had led you to believe that it was going somewhere. He introduced you proudly on his arm at work functions and mostly remembered to refill your drink.

You had a plan. You had goals, dates you wanted them achieved and now the rest of the year in your diary would have to be altered. September - exchange keys, October - move in together, discuss marriage and children, November - begin sharing financial details… He was supposed to propose by Valentine’s day. You were supposed to be married next fall.

Not that he knew that of course, just that it was the best box to fit into. The steady increase of your personal life, on track with both your professionals. The gentle upward slope of adulthood that you were told to expect. Except you didn't. Josh wanted to have fun. He wanted something spontaneous. You were spontaneous, you made sure of it. You had days marked with little hearts to initiate sex, even though he wasnt interested in anything other than missionary with the lights off. In your fifteen minute lunches you googled interesting date ideas, they looked perfect on your Instagram.

It was ridiculous. But his puzzle piece fit in with the rest, without a stable partner, it was difficult to find a stable job. For all its progressiveness, all its eccentricities, this town wanted you to be one thing to succeed. Predictable. Your job didn't care about sexuality, they were even making good strides on not caring about ethnicity, gender or appearance. But they wanted you partnered. The same way they had a dress code, they had a code for your life.

And this was all you had ever wanted. You just needed to figure out how to get it with the corners of your puzzle missing. As if they were laughing at your best laid plans, the heavens chose that moment to open, making good on the threat of grey clouds and your crappy mood.

The storm was sudden and heavy enough to flood the gutters. Every taxi had its light switched to occupied, the streets howling with horns and aggressive screaming as drivers tried to navigate the sudden downpour. The sky crackled purple with electricity, booming thunder that you could feel in your bones as you hid in an alcove, half protected from the rain and tried to order an uber.

85 minute wait. Quadruple fee. Fuck. You tried to search for a Starbucks, a bar, something close by before you lost signal, your phone battery beginning to drain in protest. You had no umbrella in this handbag. That was in your winter bag, tucked in an eco friendly sheath and waiting for the seasonal change. All this bag had was your journal, keys, wallet, and a paperback you’d been promising yourself to read for the last six months.

You could barely see through the rain, no friendly signs that indicated a dry welcome, no golden arches or green mermaids welcoming you as your shirt got wetter, your stockings sticking damp to your legs. The rain don't break the summer, but pressed it on you, feeling the heat stick to the back of your neck as steam rose from the pavement, taunting curls into the afternoon sky.

There was nothing else for it. You’d have to start walking, duck into the first open establishment you came across, hope it was somewhere you could settle until your shirt dried or the storm cleared, whatever came first. You thanked your closet rotation that you had chosen flats instead of heels today as you braved the sticky warmth of the weather.

The first door you find is old oak. Nestled between a block of offices and a backpackers hotel that’s closed for renovations, there’s no sign out front, just a worn cardboard open in electric green. You’re not sure what to expect when you push, the creak of old hinges sounding loud against the thundering rain.

It’s been a slow day. The rain was always going to make it so, even if it only chose to announce itself late in the day. The city can sense a storm, contracting in on itself as people stayed in their comfort zones, their little bubbles where they could flit like hummingbirds from work to home and back, ease of access, restricted movements.

“Close up early?” Owen said, a flicker of hope in his voice.

“You know the answer” Dieter replied, laying further back on the counter, feeling his back crack and letting out a groan of pleasure.

“Nobody is going to come in this storm D” he replied.

“It’s the eighth”

He heard Owen snort behind him, the bored flush of a steam wand. He heard the rhythmic clicking of a smartphone keyboard.

“Silent” Dieter said, without looking up, earning himself another derisive snort. He was sure the tall man was flipping him off.

“Molly said she’d cover for me tomorrow”

“I don’t care”

“Dude, is it going to be this every year?”

“It will happen”

“If it was going to happen, don’t you think this date in 2008, or 2018 for that matter, would have been more appropriate?”

“I thought about that. But I think the duality makes more sense, don’t you? That it’s two, rather than three”

“Or it’s not real, or you missed them on those dates.”

“Hmmm” Dieter mused, scratching at his chin as he studied the exposed brick wall opposite “I was pretty deep in a k-hole in 2008. You might be right.”

“So can we close, please. There’s this…”

The bell sounded before Owen could finish his sentence. The old rusty thing creaked and protested, rather than tinkled lightly. Dieter loved it, the way it warped and twisted. One day it would fall off its screws and shatter into a rusty heap. He was going to make a paint from the oxide. Paint its ghost on the walls.

He didn’t care for customers. Served them only when Owen or Molly told him someone was looking for the owner. He lived for their expression when the owner appeared in a bathrobe, a tidily rolled joint behind his ear. Molly banished him whenever the health inspector came by, and was the one who made sure they passed. Owen begged for a social media presence, Dieter refused. He hadn't even named the place, putting a question mark on all the tax forms, and handing them to his overpaid accountant.

He was lucky to find employees who loved the work, who took on the responsibility he wasn't willing to. He was waiting. They knew it, they’d heard him say it a hundred times. That this, this building, its large studio apartment above it was exactly where he was supposed to be. That the convergence of energy on this particular spot was something, he could feel it in his bones. Five years of waiting.

And here you are.

It was a coffee shop apparently. The smell of dark roast and peppermint on your senses as you shook the rain off your nose. At least it had blurred the tears, the ruination of your makeup could be blamed on the weather as opposed to your very recent breakup. Shivering slightly you took stock of your shirt. Soaked, but not see through. Clinging in a way that made you look like a drowned rat, rather than an extra in a rock music video. You shook the worst of it off your hands, moving to the counter where a tall thin man stood, muffling laughter behind his palm.

“Uh, hi. Could I get… Um, I don't know just a black coffee? And your WiFi password please?”

“Coffee no problem, but no WiFi. Sorry” he shrugged, indicating the machine for you to pay.

"What sort of coffee place doesn't have WiFi?" You mumble.

"This one" came a voice from behind the pastry display. You caught a hint of wild hair, soft curls and flecks of grey before it ducked further out of sight.

You opened your mouth, but the man behind the counter gave a cough, shaking his head subtly as you met his eyes.

You sat in the corner, jamming yourself into the squashy armchair and using some paper napkins to blot the worst of your handbag. Your journal was only wet on the corner as you pulled it out, and you breathed a soft sigh of relief.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say your life was enclosed in these pages. Neat lines broken down into year then month then day, columns for work columns for personal, phone numbers and birthdays and deadlines all combined in one bound book. You had a half dozen empty ones in your apartment. You’d carted the boxes of full ones from your childhood bedroom to college to your closet in your shoebox apartment. Consistency and routine. Everything in its place.

You could feel the sadness ebbing away as you traced the pages. You had so many left, so much more time to formulate a new plan. There were ways around this setback, ways to pour more into work now that your personal column would be empty. There was a satisfaction in going weeks ahead, putting neat lines through dates for Josh, crossing out the love hearts on days you planned to have sex.

You managed a thank you when the barista dropped your coffee. The warmth cupped in your palm chased away the last of the chill from your wet skin, and you looked around as you took your first sip. Eccentric was a word for the place. Though toddler-on-acid seemed more appropriate. Exposed brick was covered in paintings. Some small caricatures, other larger pieces in what seemed to be chalk and charcoal.

The furniture was mismatched past the point of deliberate, a mix of lawn furniture and couches, tables with missing legs that were flaking rust. Glass topped coffee tables that looked as though they had gilded feet. It was somewhere past dumpster chic, well into the territory of someone just picking whatever piece they thought was pretty and shoving it into a space that fit.

The counter was the only place that looked deliberate. Poured concrete with a gleaming espresso machine, bags of beans lined neatly next to grinders, a glass display case with a few shelves of delicious looking pastries. You could hear the humming of a fridge somewhere when it hit you. No music. There was no soft jazz to lull you into staying, no alternative rock to give an edge.

You couldnt see a jukebox either, no novelty record player tucked into a corner. This place was the opposite of curated, it had no vibe of which to speak. It seemed to have simply sprung into existence, wedged between two buildings as it was, some fever dream of a coked out college student and a piece of real estate you knew would have cost millions.

You saw the same flash of soft hair appear behind the display. Could hear the whisper over the sounds of the storm, the scrape of something on the wooden floor. A yelp and half a crash as you watched a man spill out from behind the counter, a milk crate skittering behind him. He was mumbling a string of curse words as the barista helped him to his feet, turning away to muffle laughter into his shoulder.

He was scruffy. That was the polite word. Disheveled. Unkempt. Not dirty, but certainly uncaring of his appearance. He was wearing crocs, mismatched colours at that and what appeared to be a bathrobe, but could also be a Kanye West exclusive worth thousands of dollars. You watched their half argument almost absently as you studied him, the rings on his fingers catching the light as he pushed his sleeves up, only for them to immediately fall down again.

Soft. He looked soft. You watched as he ran his hands through his hair, messing it up more somehow before turning back to your journal, your eyes swimming into focus as you started your daily notes. You had barely scribbled 08/08 in the corner before you heard footsteps, and the sound of a barstool being scraped towards you.

“It’s lucky” the unkempt man said. His voice was like sand, gritty and deep as he put a chipped plate with a muffin on it, steam curling from the top. Rich, fat blueberries had stained the mix, bleeding purple onto the plate.

“I’m sorry?” you asked.

“Today, it’s lucky. The number eight brings power and strength. Self confidence, freedom.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you looked back down at your journal, beginning the measuring of lines to mark the hours you had spent today. Water intake, working hours, tasks completed, tasks not completed.

Another scrape of the chair.

“In love, it symbolises infinite perfection. Your one true mate. Today of all days, the eighth of the eighth, you could find your perfect match the same time they find you”

Looking up you meet his eyes. They're a warm cinnamon brown, creases around his eyes as he smiles for looking at you, the stretching of his soft plush lips as he points at the muffin.

“For you”

“I don’t believe in any of that shit” you say, shaking your head. There’s something about his presence. You’re not tempted to tell him to fuck off, you’re not itching for privacy. The gravel of his voice is soothing, like a human white noise machine. And his gaze is fixed on your face, not the still wet shirt clinging to your breasts.

“It believes in you” he says, before getting up and leaving you with the still warm muffin.

“I didnt order this” you call after him.

“On the house” he replies, not looking back as he vanishes behind a beaded curtain you didnt notice.

Deiter could be having a heart attack. It feels like the time at Tunnel where he took too much cocaine and mixed it with extra cherries in his rum and coke. Everything is too fast, too much, his nerves on fire. But he’s only smoked two joints today, no other pills or powders in his system. Which means it must be you.

“You good?” Owen asks, sticking his head through the curtain. Dieter nods, his brain playing a loop the honey sweetness of your voice.

God you’re more beautiful than he would have ever imagined. If he didnt know it was you, would he be feeling this way? Like a heavenly being had just graced his presence, floated down into his life like a feather on the wind. If he passed you in the street, would he focus on the dent in your bottom lip, the way you worry at it with your teeth.

Would he think about the way you moved, the peek he took from behind the counter to watch your hips sway, your plush ass squeezed into a drenched pencil skirt, the stick of hair on the nape of your neck. God you had sucked on the end of that pen, tapped it twice against your lip as you measured and wrote in that journal. He could have come in his pants.

You look like an old Hollywood movie star. He wants to drag the sheets from his bed and set up the film projector, have you walk in the same way Bette Davis did, watch your eyes narrow like Hepburns, see the playfulness of Garbo, watch the way they all moulded together for him, to make you.

You were made for him. Those hips that were wide enough to grab, how he could watch the ripple of your flesh as he slammed into you from behind. Those gorgeous fucking tits that he deserved a medal for not staring at. They would spill over his palms, your nipples hard like candy as he soaped them in a bath, fucked between them and watched his cum paint your face. It would suit you perfectly, a canvas covered in his spend.

He put his head between his legs on the stairs, taking deep breaths and willing his erection to go down. He had to go and talk to you, had to hear more things spill out of those perfect lips, and he wasnt going to be able to do that with his cock as hard as it was now, throbbing painfully beneath his sweats as his brain offered an image of you straddling his face, your juicy cunt just inches from his mouth as he palmed your perfect ass.

“Stop it” he growled at his crotch, recieving only an angry throb in return. He tried to remember the last thing his yoga instructor has taught him. Remembering that he fucked his yoga instructor and was no long welcome back in the studio was what finally made it go down. Despite how strong their core muscles were he was still irrationally pissed off that he couldnt get back in for a strawberry and mango smoothie.

You were still there, absorbed in the scratching of your pen on a page. He focused fully on your hands, the grip of the pen, the way you leaned so close to the paper, your eyes flicking fast beneath long lashes to follow your own handwriting. He was going to paint you later. He was sure he still had space on his bedroom wall. You were absently picking at the muffin, pulling blueberries from the pastry and slipping them between those sinful lips.

He forced himself through the beaded curtain before his cock got any more ideas. Owen was typing furiously on his phone, probably to Molly or Blake, he was sure this story was being told via group chat on some app he’d never heard of. In a way he was glad. It was a primary source to the first chapter of your story.

The man came back again, this time pulling an arm chair from another corner to sit level with you. He didnt ask you anything, just watched as you studiously ignored him, seeming completely at ease with one pant leg rolled up over his knee. His skin was smooth and looked warm and as soft as the rest of him.

“How was the muffin?” he asked softly, waiting for a break in the rhythm of your writing as you sat back to let the ink dry.

“It was very nice, thank you. But I didnt order it” you replied.

“On the house” he said again.

“Whose house”

“Mine. Literally actually, I have an apartment upstairs” He seemed nervous, his jewelled fingers twitching as he looked at you. If you didn’t know better you thought he was going to try and hold your hand.

“Oh, this is your place?” you asked, matching the eccentric furniture with his fashion sense as he nodded.

“Did you have a bad day?” He asked, running his hand across his thigh. He seemed unable to sit still, grabbing at threads on his robe, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Yes” you admit cautiously. “The muffin helped.”

“Do you want me to read your palm?” he asked suddenly.

You laughed, looking at him with a raised brow.

“You know, so you can see if bad days are ahead” He shrugged. This guy was weird. Not deliberately quirky or acting out a hipster fantasy, but capital W weird. But he smiled whenever he looked at you, and by the laid back nature of the barista currently sitting on the counter, you were reasonably sure he wasn’t dangerous in any way. He owned the business afterall. Maybe this was his schtick, to keep the customers coming back.

“I don’t believe in that shit” You repeated, slipping your pen away, freeing your hands regardless.

He shrugged, reaching for you slowly, as though he was inching towards a feral cat. Both hands in plain sight as you didnt pull away. Shaking your head you offered him your left with a roll of your eyes. Better to humour him you figured.

Electricity zapped through your skin when his fingers enclosed your wrist. Warm had been the right assessment, heat travelling through your veins as he thumbed across your pulse, thick fingers with soft callouses as he traced your palm, encouraged it to lay flat in his own.

“This is your head line” he said, his voice dropping low, the smoky rasp sending an unexpected shiver up your spine. “Deep and long, you’re a clear and logical thinker.”

His touch was like a whisper on your skin as he traced your palm with his index finger. “There’s a break, just here, in your lifeline. Means a change in lifestyle”

You snort at that. “Just got dumped. I guess you got one”

His eyes whip to yours at that, a brief flash of an emotion you cant decipher as he stares directly at you, his lips pursed. He looks back down at your hand, letting out a long breath before continuing his delicate exploration of your palm.

“This here is what im most interested in” he says, stroking back and forth across the pad of softness below your thumb. “It’s called a mount of Venus. Yours is very pronounced”

You go to jerk your hand back, half offended as he tightens his grip on your wrist with a smile.

“No it’s perfect. It’s just like mine actually, its thick and padded, nice and plush. Perfect in fact” he seems so enraptured by it, his fingers drawing whirl patterns on the skin.

“Why is it perfect?” you ask, curiosity finally getting the best of you.

“Best I don’t tell you that just yet” he says, looking at you with a wink. He grins as he does so and you smile back, the smallest bloom of happiness unfurling in your chest at the intensity of his gaze.

“You have a beautiful smile, Bette” he says, his own grin growing wider.

“Bette?”

“Davis” he says with no other explanation.

“So, what’s my future then?” you ask, as he curls your fingers back into your palm, flipping your fist in his grasp so he can stroke across your knuckles, seemingly distracted by the slope of them.

“Oh, you’re going to fall in love” he says.

“Not interested.” you reply.

“Not yet” he says, looking up from the freckle on the back of your hand. “I don’t think it will take too long though. By New Year’s, you’ll be in love - desperately so. Soulmates are like that.”

“I don’t believe in soulmates” you repeat, slightly exasperated.

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t real.” He replies, an edge of stubbornness in his voice. “No, you’re perfect for one another. You’ll end up like an old Hollywood movie, living happily ever after without a care in the world. Dieter Bravo is definitely the one for you”

“And who is Dieter Bravo?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

He pulls your knuckles to his mouth, brushing the barest hint of a kiss across them, his breath warm on your still damp skin.

“I am”.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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aperrywilliams · 2 years

Text

Home (Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credit to the creator)

Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader.

Summary: Reader gets a call from JJ saying that the last case hit Spencer hard. So Reader is determined to make Spencer feel at home when he returns.

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warnings: Mention of Mexico, Cat Adams, and Spencer’s PTSD.

A/N: This one is based on this request. A little comfort and fluff to start Monday. Have a great week, everyone! Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

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Thursday afternoon found you in the grocery store. You decided it was time to make a proper meal at home. After a week full of take-out, you craved some different.

This pattern usually happens when your boyfriend Spencer is away for a case. You don’t feel like cooking for yourself, so you prefer to order some Chinese and eat on the couch while watching a soap opera on TV.

The informal and relaxed routine at home doesn’t prevent you from worrying about Spencer, though. You usually talk to or text him at night when he is on cases, but sometimes you get only radio static. You know he can be busy, so you try not to freak out, but after what happened in Mexico, it’s difficult not picturing the worst. You still remember like it was yesterday when Emily called you to tell you what happened. At some point, you really thought you would lose Spencer locked in Milburn.

Walking down the aisles, you were about to stop to grab some vegetables when your phone went off. You took it out of your jeans pocket and saw JJ’s name on the screen. Your stomach immediately clenched. Last night you hadn’t been able to talk to Spencer, and during the day, he didn’t answer the text you wrote him in the morning. Nervously, you pressed the green button.

“Hello? JJ?”

“Hi (Y/N). I’m sorry if you are busy right now. Can you talk?” JJ questioned. The knot in your stomach tightened.

“Uh- It’s okay. I - I can talk. Is something wrong? Is Spencer okay?” You hastened to ask.

“Yes! He’s fine. We just landed, and we‘re going to the case debriefing. I’m calling you because this one was pretty intense for Spence. And I know he won’t admit it, but I’m worried; I have seen some of his PTSD since yesterday. I just wanted you to know,” JJ explained.

“Oh. Okay. I get it. Thanks, JJ. For letting me know. The case? Was related to Mexico?”

“Not quite, but the unsub acted pretty much like Cat Adams. I think that triggered his initial discomfort,” JJ told you.

Your poor Spencer. It took him months to appease the nightmares. He usually woke up screaming and crying. When it started, you didn’t know how to help him, but with time, you learned how to soothe him so he could relax in your arms and fall asleep again.

After hanging up, you started to move faster. Spencer would be at home in an hour and a half top, and you knew how exhausted your boyfriend would look. Plus, the information JJ gave you was enough reason for you to do something about it.

The keys jingle in the lock alerted you that Spencer was at home. You were chopping some vegetables and putting them in the pan. You wanted to stop your doing and rush to hug him, but you knew better.

Spencer needed at least some minutes to realize he wasn’t at the BAU or catching monsters anymore, so you kept cooking, trying to act normal.

You heard the thud of his go-bag on the floor. The slow and heavy steps cracking on the wooden floor were another clue of the weightiness he must have held on his shoulders. You smiled at him when he was at your sight in the kitchen.

“Hey, handsome,” you greeted. Spencer looked at you with a weary expression on his face.

“Hey,” he responded, leaning on the door frame whit arms crossed over his chest as he tried to conceal the exhaustion. Averting your gaze, he attempted to evade any question you would have. There wasn’t a hug; there wasn’t a loving kiss.

Surely you would notice something wasn’t okay, but his voice was gone, and his body didn’t let him move.

You just turned off the oven and walked to him without saying anything. He still didn’t want to see you. Tugging one of his arms to unfold, you opened your arms and hugged him. Spencer hugged you back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“You are home, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” you mumbled, tenderly caressing his scalp. A muffled sob escaped his lips.

“I’ve missed you. I didn’t even reply to your text. I’m sorry,” Spencer sobbed.

“I’ve missed you too, Spencer. But you are here now; it’s all that matters. Do you want to talk about it?” He knew what you were asking. Spencer shook his head, not leaving his right spot on your neck. Being in your arms and smelling your scent was the only thing grounding him right now.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to talk now, but you need to eat, though,” you asserted.

“I’m not hungry,” he refuted, parting from your embrace. His glassy eyes only added more exhaustion to his face.

“Baby, please. I’m sure you didn’t eat the past few days properly,” you guessed.

“I just want to go to bed,” Spencer mumbled, briefly rubbing his palms over his eyes. Your hand came to rest on his cheek, and he leaned into your touch.

“Tunnel vision?” You asked. He nodded, blinking several times. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the hallway, where the light was dimmer than in the kitchen.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you get a bath, change your pajama, and then decide if you want to eat something before bed.”

Spencer considered your words and shrugged.

“Okay.”

You led him to the bathroom. Spencer’s brows furrowed when he saw the room littered with aromatic candles. He could smell the faint scent of lavender from the candles mixed with vanilla from the bubbling water in the tub.

“How did you-” Spencer wanted to ask. You smiled at him, pecking his lips as your hands working on his clothes.

“Let me take care of you, okay?” You asked, removing his tie.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to. I’ll be okay,” he told you, holding your hand and kissing your knuckles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to. Please?” A kiss on his cheek accompanied your request.

Spencer sighed. It was always difficult to accept that he needed to be cared for too.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

As you helped him to get rid of his clothes, you could feel how his body gave up. He barely raised his arms so you could take his undershirt off. When he was fully naked, you helped him to step into the bathtub. Once the warm water enveloped his body, he let out a contented sigh. With eyes closed, his head rested on the edge of the tub.

Spencer seemed lost in thought when he suddenly opened his eyes and saw you with the shampoo bottle in your hands.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked. You chuckled.

“Not this time. I already told you, love. I’m going to take care of you. Now close your eyes, baby; I’m going to wash your hair.”

Gently, you massaged his scalp, spreading the lather over his curls, then rinsed them. Spencer looked so relaxed that you were sure he had fallen asleep at some point.

When you were done, you soaped his body and gave it the same attention you paid to his hair.

Spencer opened his eyes and looked at you adoringly. Your gaze met his, and you chuckled.

“What?” you asked playfully.

“I love you,” he said.

“Wait till you see what I made for dinner,” you joked.

Once ready, you left him alone to take his time getting out of the tub and drying off. You left one of his pajamas on the bed and went to the kitchen to finish dinner.

When Spencer was ready and shown in the living, a plate of his favorite meal was waiting on the table. Only the lights of the lamps were on so as not to have the place too bright. You knew about his photo-sensitivity and didn’t want to give him a headache.

A smile spread across his face when he saw the table.

“I told you,” you reminded him. “Come, love. It will do you good to eat something.”

You guys sat across from each other, and Spencer’s appetite seemed to have whetted because not ten minutes had passed, and his plate was nearly empty. Neither of you spoke during that time. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. Instead, it was nice to be able to enjoy each other’s company.

After sipping some of his water, Spencer cleared his throat.

“The unsub was doing the same thing Cat did to me,” he murmured. Your gaze moved from your plate to his eyes.

Spencer was looking at you with those kicked puppy eyes.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Did you catch him?”

“Catch her. Yes, we did. But it wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t much help either. I felt so useless (Y/N). I can’t believe it still affects me this much,” Spencer confessed, averting your gaze.

You took his hand across the table so he would look at you again.

“Spencer, love. You have every right to be affected by this. What happened to you is not something that will go away overnight. And maybe not in a year, or maybe never. But you’ve been strong enough to face it and continue your life. That’s what matters. And if there are days that are better than others, no one can blame you for that. And I’m sure the team understands that. Don’t torture yourself with those thoughts.”

Spencer squeezed your hand appreciatively.

“You’re right. Sometimes it’s hard to see and accept, though,” Spencer recognized.

You huffed playfully.

“I know it’s hard for you to accept that I’m usually right, but you should get used to it.”

Spencer’s face turned red and shocked.

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant when I said that - I mean, what I wanted to say was that the hard part was-” Spencer stuttered. You started to laugh.

“I know what you meant, Spencer. I’m messing with you.”

Spencer eased then and laughed. It was a genuine laugh. Mission accomplished.

After dinner, you guys moved over to the couch.

You were sitting, and Spencer was lying with his head on your lap while you played with his hair, something you knew he loved very much. A playlist that both of you liked was playing over the speakers.

From the moment you saw him walk in tonight, only now could you tell that Spencer was utterly relaxed. After telling you what happened in the last case and how much it had affected him, it seemed like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And so it was. Spencer could only repeat to himself how lucky he was to have you by his side. No one had ever put so much effort into these kinds of details towards him before.

Spencer had never felt so blessed to be able to come to his home and truly feel like it was home to him. That happened when you came into his life.

“How are you feeling?” You asked in a whisper so as not to scare him. He turned to see you.

“Like at home,” he answered.

“Well, indeed, you are home, baby.” you joked. Spencer chuckled, and his eyes began to sparkle.

“It wasn’t like that before, though,” he stated. Spencer sat on the couch to get a better look at you. You frowned.

“I mean that this space wouldn’t feel like home if you weren’t here. It would be just four walls with some rooms and furniture.”

Your cheeks flushed at his admission.

“Oh, please, are you suggesting that I’m so loud that I fill up spaces?” You tried to joke to hide how flustered you felt, averting his gaze. Spencer tilted up your chin with his fingers.

“Hey, I’m serious. What you did for me today, and what you have done for me since we met, only makes me fall more in love with you every day. And asking you to move in with me was the best thing I’ve ever done. For now,” he winked at you, and you grinned.

“Are you saying there are better things to come?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“If it’s by your side, I’m sure it will. I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered, leaning in so he could kiss you.

“I love you too, Spencer Reid,” you said, closing the gap between you and letting his lips capture yours.

It was a sweet kiss where Spencer showed you how important you were to him. You reciprocated in the same way, conveying your feelings as well.

This was the life you wanted. Next to whom you were sure was the love of your life.

The man who had hidden a velvet box with an engagement ring in his sock drawer.

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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer

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#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfictions #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #home

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snowdice · 1 month

Text

Tales From Logan’s Office (Part 4) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Virgil

Characters: Logan, Virgil

Summary: Virgil invades Logan’s office. (Multiple times.)

This is a dealing with events set after my story Sometimes Labels Fail.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Virgil hesitated outside of Logan’s office door in a way he hadn’t done since the first summer he spent with him and Patton. He knew Logan was in there and probably just busy grading unless he’d already finished all of it. Logan was predictable like that.

Logan was… Logan was very predictable. So predictable that Virgil knew exactly what would happen if he knocked on that door and said what he’d come here to say.

And yet he hesitated.

It was like there were two Virgil’s in his head, at odds with one another. One Virgil knew everything was alright and was going to be alright and that Logan would help it feel alright much quicker. The other Virgil wanted to drop out of college, find a small space somewhere, and curl up into a ball while waiting to die. These two Virgil’s existed completely separate from one another, unable to affect each other or inspire Virgil to action, and left him rooted to the spot outside his dad’s office.

He was finally unfrozen when the door to Logan’s office swung open revealing Logan’s TA, Cas. “Oh, hi Virgil,” Cas said as though there wasn’t anything unusual about this, though for him there probably wasn’t.

Virgil swallowed down the go-cry-in-a-corner Virgil for a moment and said “Hey.”

Cas smiled and held the door open for him.

Well, Virgil supposed he didn’t have a choice now. (It was probably for the best.)

He walked through the door into Logan’s office, doing his best to not let Cas see his anxiety. The door closed behind him.

Logan glanced up at him briefly and seemed unconcerned when he saw it was him. “Hello, Virgil,” he said, turning back to his computer. “This isn’t the usual time you invade my office. Do you need something?”

Even if Virgil could think of words to say right now, they would probably have died in his throat. There were 3 seconds of silence, 4. After a 5 second pause, Logan looked back up at him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Virgil tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie and nodded. He had Logan’s full attention now and that was a relief for the rational part of him that had brought him here even while it made the anxious side of him squirm.

Logan stood up from his chair and rounded his desk. “Sit,” he told Virgil. Virgil sat.

He could feel Logan studying him but couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes.

“Physical?” Logan asked. It was always the first thing Logan checked even though physical injury rarely put Virgil in this state. Virgil shook his head. “Social?” Virgil shook his head again. “Academic?” Virgil hesitated but then nodded.

“I see,” Logan said. “It is Thursday afternoon. Is anything past due, due tonight, or due tomorrow.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Okay. Then I will take you home tonight for the weekend.”

“I have class tomorrow,” Virgil managed to say, wringing his hands.

“You have class with Dr. Simmons,” Logan said. “She has mental health days in her syllabus for a reason. This is the reason.”

“I can go,” Virgil said quietly. “I’ll be fine.”

“You certainly could,” Logan agreed. “You do not need to.”

Virgil felt a bit of the vice grip that had been squeezing his chest loosen. “I need to…” he tried tentatively.

“You need to pack an overnight bag while I teach my last class of the day,” Logan said, “and then sit on your bed watching whatever silly Youtube things you do while waiting for me to pick you up. We will discuss what needs to be done with your schoolwork tomorrow afternoon after you have had time to rest. You will have the entire weekend to complete whatever task is worrying you.”

“I shouldn’t skip class.”

Logan waved him off. “Do you know how many classes I skipped for worse reasons as a student?” he asked. “And now I’m a professor dealing with students skipping my courses for even worse reasons than that.”

“…Okay.”

“Good,” Logan said. “Now would you like a hug?” Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile slightly at the business-like tone Logan took to ask. Maybe at one point he would have felt uncomfortable about it, but now he knew it was just Logan making sure he was comfortable with it before touching him.

Virgil nodded.

“Thank you,” Virgil said once Logan had reached forward to hug him.

“Anytime,” Logan said back. “My office is always open for you.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #platonic analogical #labeled universe #sometimes labels shift #adriana writes #not pieces fic

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bukguhope · 2 years

Text

something about you 01

in which badboy! jeon jungkook desperately needs everyone to think he has a girlfriend and out of all the girls on campus that he could’ve chosen to fake date- he chose you, the girl who hates him the most.

—> fake dating, badboy! jungkook, swearing, mentions of blood/fighting, hate(mainly oc) to love, eventual light smut, little pining

college life was definitely more boring then you were expecting- well, that might have been down to you. with you refusing to go near any party or nights out, how else would you find excitement with a bunch of young adults when that’s what everyone else was doing with their time?

“you’re such a boring bitch” the scowl that came from you would make anyone else apologise for offending you, anyone but kim taehyung. being your best friend, he felt no threat from your glare. “what else are you even gonna do on a friday night?” once again you sat with him at the campus cafe on a thursday afternoon and listened to him rant on about how you just had to come to a random party that was happening on friday

“making sure i don’t wake up with a hangover on saturday” your best friend groaned and started kicking his legs around like a child having a tantrum, it was actually kinda amusing

“you always complain about being bored, why don’t you not be boring and come with me tomorrow? please it will be fun” the pout that was planted on his lips was almost convincing but you were hard headed, you didn’t wanna go near another campus party. of course tae didn’t know you had already been to one before, which was the biggest disaster. you regretted even stepping foot near that party, you wouldn’t be making that mistake again

“not my scene, no matter how much you pout or whine i’ll will not be attending. plus if i go, who else you going to call at 2am drunk and begging to be picked up?” taehyung had no rebuttal, you were right after all. it was like an unwritten agreement that you were his designated driver each weekend, ever since he called you a couple months back crying one night about how he was lost and had no idea how to het home. you were pissed when you found out he was actually drunk outside his own dorm after you ran out in the dead of the night to try and find his ass. but you couldn’t stay mad when his tear stained eyes looked up at you, crying even harder when he saw you stood above him. sure, he was annoying but he was your best friend.

“fine whatever, i can never convince you why do i even try”

“i don’t know why you do either” the smile that decorated your face fell fast when hushed whispers filled the cafe, all because a certain someone had entered and you saw him straight away. black jeans, biker jacket and helmet in hand jungkook made his way into the cafe completely unfazed at the fact everyone was clearly looking at him and exchanging gossip in whispers

“ooh campus bad boy” taehyung teases as he turns his head back to you after turning to get a good look at him. “you know if i was girl my legs would have been spread open so fast for him”

“tae!”

“what! he’s got that mysterious ‘i could snap anyone’s neck if i wanted to’ thing going on” you shake your head at him, you weren’t going to deny he was hot but that thought would never be confessed by you to anyone. taehyung more then anyone knew why it wouldn’t, you absolutely despised jungkook. “you still can’t hate him right? that whole thing was a year ago”

“that ‘little thing’ almost cost me my place here, so yes i still hate him” last year you had the unfortunate chance of meeting jungkook, he was in the middle of an argument with some guy and a girl in the middle of campus. you were about to walk right past when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you. you couldn’t even utter a single word as jungkook placed an arm over your shoulder, uttering that you were his girlfriend. in that instant you hair was being pulled, the girl stood next to the guy jungkook was arguing with had a fist full of it as she dragged you around. it was a natural reaction for you to fight back, but that decision had you almost kicked of college.

“did you ever ask him why? maybe he had a good reason” you almost scoffed at this, it didn’t matter to you what his reasoning was, he pulled you into that mess without a single thought of the repercussions- to you? he was the devil

“i would rather not speak to him, then and now”

“ouch, iam almost hurt” the voice made you grimace as you turned in your chair to see the man in question staring down at you, stupid grin upon his face

“good, i’ll try harder next time” it annoyed you even more that he decided to take a seat next to you, taehyung eyeing the interaction carefully. jungkook was a lose canon, rumours around campus were that he got into fights all the time and could possibly even be in the mafia- obviously the latter wasn’t true.

“now why would you want to hurt me?” the grin on his face never left, pissing you off more. who even invited him to come over and join you?

“what do you want?” what was more frustrating then anything was since that incident last year, jungkook never left you alone. you didn’t know if was guilt from pulling you into the fight or it was if he got enjoyment out of pissing you off. you leaned towards the second explanation

“who’s says i want something? maybe i just want to look at your pretty face?” the sound of taehyung choking on his tea interrupted your snarky reply, jungkook patted his back as your friend let out a ‘thank you’ between his choking

“are you done now? don’t you have someone to go beat up or threaten?” jungkook looked at you with nothing but amusement behind his big eyes, truth was he found it entertaining to talk to you. on campus no one seemed to want to be within a two metre radius of him, of course he understood why. everyone by now has probably seen him in a fist fight with how often he managed to get into trouble, anyone who has been to a campus party for sure had seen him punch someone- it somehow happened everytime he went to one. so with that in mind, people avoided him and you were on that list but it was different with you. unlike anyone else, you talked harshly to him. he enjoyed bantering with you because you were the only one to actually talk back to him.

“hm maybe, but i’d much rather sit here with you” rolling your eyes you stand up, jungkook immediately following your actions like a little shadow.

“i would rather shove a pine cone up my ass then sit here with you”

“well if we’re shoving things up you-”

“don’t! even finish that sentence jeon” you seethe but the man only laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender. taehyung couldn’t even say a word as he watched on, he didn’t know how you had the balls to even talk to him. “iam going, see you around tae” with that you walked off, not even bothering to say goodbye to jungkook because of course he was already following you out of the cafe. he was persistent, you’ll give him that.

“why you walking so fast baby got somewhere to be?” he calls out, jogging slightly to catch up with you, which didn’t take him long

“yeah, far away from you” jungkook only chuckles as he walks next to you, the pair of you were oblivious to the fact that everyone was stepping out of the way to make sure there wasn’t a possibility of getting into jungkook’s path

“you’re too sweet” side eyeing him you fail to see a guy heading straight for you until he’s bumped into your shoulder, halting your walking as your hand flies to where his body hit yours “hey!” jungkook had the mystery man in his grasp so fast you don’t know how he did it. his hands held on tight to the mans shirt and the fear was evident in the strangers eyes once he saw who was holding onto him “watch where you’re fucking going motherfucker!” you were very much aware of the eyes staring at the scene unfolding, you felt sorry for the poor guy in jungkook’s grip.

“iam sorry i-”

“why you apologising to me you stupid fuck? you hit into her!” god you were getting so embarrassed, the guy only bumped into you by mistake jungkook was acting like the man punched you square in the face. although you had to admit you heart picked up a little at his defence of you

“jungkook! enough!” he gave the guy a final look before pushing him away and as soon as he did you stalked away, not wanting to be anywhere near the scene. you could hear the stomps of the boots jungkook was wearing as he ran to catch up

“you okay?” you huff, ignoring him, as you continue walking “iam being serious” suddenly he’s holding onto your wrist, preventing you from walking “stop being stubborn and tell me if your hurt y/n” for a moment, as you turn to him, you see a look in his eyes, concern?

“iam fine jungkook stop being dramatic” the man nodded, content with your answer as he lets go of your wrist and places his hands upon your shoulders as he looks over you. standing there you grow annoyed as it seems he’s checking you over, you really couldn’t deal with how dramatic he was being. “happy? because iam leaving now” with that you walk off and this time he doesn’t follow

“see you around sweetheart!” you groan as you hear him shout across the campus yard, a bunch of eyes once again staring out you.

“y/n i need you!” you sigh deeply as you listen to taehyung’s wails down the phone. of course he was calling you at 3am, obviously at that party he invited you to the day prior. really you couldn’t be surprised, this happened everytime but normally it happened earlier on in the night.

“where iam i getting you from this time tae?” all you could hear down the line was a bunch of muffled noise and chatter, but you stayed calm waiting for his reply

“jimin’s place p-please come get me” you almost wanted to laugh at his slurring but you just told him you were on your way, knowing exactly where jimin lived. he was known for his parties, always hosting one at least once a week. with a short five minute drive later you pulled up to your destination, the sight of your best friend hunched over on the sidewalk outside the house was what greeted you. chuckling, you turned off the engine and took off your belt before getting out the car. the sound of the door shutting alerted him and he looks up slowly

“y/n! thank god how did you know i was here?!” crossing your arms you looked down at him, amused at just how drunk he had gotten himself this time

“iam psychic now come on, let’s get you home” with that you bent down to wrap his arm around your shoulders but as you try to stand he doesn’t budge leaving you to fall back onto your ass “don’t fucking dead weight me tae” you huff going to lift him again but were surprised how easily he lifted this time

“need some help?” the voice made you look up quickly, seeing jungkook holding your friends other arm- thats why he was easy to lift

“not from you” you managed to get out as taehyung began to stumble around, honestly you didn’t know why you were being so hostile he was only trying to help. but it was jungkook after all, the pure sight of him just irked you.

“now was that a very nice thing to say?” before you can say anything back, suddenly jungkook has taehyung in firman lift, making you stumble for balance. “this your car right?” he asks already walking over to it, quickly you open a rear door before jungkook places taehyung back on his carefully before guiding him into the back seat. closing the door he now turns to face you, smile big upon his lips. “now you owe me favour” you look up at him, narrowing your eyes.

“i certainly do not”

“hm but you do. i just helped you so, you owe me.” you retract your head slightly when he leans down to your height to whisper “i’ll be in touch” a shiver ran down your spine as you felt his breath on your lips and you pushed him away by his chest, he barely moved but took a step anyway. “always so feisty” shaking your head you walk past him to get into the drivers seat, making sure to slam the door as you get in. you start the engine and immediately drive off, not wanting to be anywhere near jungkook. you take a quick glimpse into the mirror to see him stood there, watching your car drive off.

“y/n iam gonna be sick” taehyung’s drunk mumbling pulls you from your thoughts and you groan before reaching into your passenger seat to hand him a bowl you bought with you.

“get any on the seats and you’re dead” the bowl is snatched from your hand and immediately you hear him heaving into the bowl making you grimace. “and you wonder why i don’t go to parties” you grumble but he only continues to throw up into the bowl making you slow down the speed of the car, driving extra carefully to make sure he didn’t miss and start being sick everywhere.

“head hurting?” you looked at your best friend from across the cafe table, wanting to laugh at how ridiculous he looked. he sported a pair of shades despite the fact you were inside and his hood was covering his head.

“what do you think?” this time you did laugh, this was your treat after the hell he put you through each weekend. seeing him hungover made any trouble he put you through the night before worth it

“i inspected my car this morning, no sick so you’re safe- this time”

“yay” he lets out half heartedly and you chuckle at him, this was probably the worst you had ever seen him. you almost started to feel bad for him but remembering the smell you had to drive home in last night from the bowl of sick wipes that feeling away

“don’t forget the part i played” you closed your eyes briefly to take a deep breath as jungkook sat at the table once again, uninvited.

“you, played a part?” you couldn’t ld entirely see taehyung’s face but you could practically sense the embarrassment radiating from him

“well i did lift you into the car” looking properly at him now you see a few cuts decorating his face, clearly untreated.

“uh, thanks i guess” taehyung’s voice had an edge to his voice, like he was scared to utter a single word to jungkook in case he said something wrong.

“welcome, now sweetheart” you want to scoff at the pet name as he turns to face you “why so grouchy this morning?”

“could be something to do with your unwanted presence” the man only smiles at you, arms crossed as the leant upon the table

“now is that a way to talk to a friend?” you scowl at him, not in the mood to go back and forth with him even slightly after the lack of sleep you had

“you- are not my friend” jungkook places a hand over his heart and mocks pain while you look on, unamused

“iam just gonna go i need sleep” taehyung says making you look over at him “thanks again” he directs to jungkook before standing and leaving the cafe. you watch him go, annoyed he left you alone with jungkook

“then there were two” your eyes move back to him to be met with that annoying grin that he always seemed to be sporting. for some reason your attention goes back to the cuts on his cheeks, some were incredibly deep

“what the fuck happened to you, did you get beaten up?” the grin on his face falters slightly as one hand traces his face before he clears his throat

“why? worried about me baby?” you could see through the facade he was putting on, after a year of being annoyed by him you could just tell something was off

“you didn’t treat them did you?” this was weird territory for the pair of you, usually it was just him teasing you before leaving but now it was a real conversation and honestly you didn’t know why you were asking. but you just couldn’t help yourself, it would be upsetting to see anyone this way- right?

“didnt need to” he shrugs and his lack of care was worrying, how often had he been through something like this to just not be concerned?

“that is so stupid jungkook seriously” the look he gave you was something you’ve never seen before, the was no grin or anything. he was just staring at you, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. if this was concern you were showing him it was his first time, no one had every questioned him on his injuries after fighting in fact they probably didn’t care enough. “don’t be ignorant, if you fight you should at least take care of yourself afterwards” you didn’t wait for him to say anything else, standing you left immediately but were surprised he didn’t follow.

“sweetheart about that favour” you jumped slightly at the sudden voice, jungkook appearing from seemingly no where to sit in front of you at the college library and placing his helmet onto the table

“please, take a seat jungkook” he only smiles at you, despite your sarcasm. he seemed a bit edgy about something, his legs were bouncing causing his body to shake a little

“y/n, i seriously need your help” you never seen him so panicked before, normally he was calm and collected but now- something was definitely wrong

“and why would i do that?” it irked you that jungkook was always appearing to piss you off, your constant hostility not being enough to get him to leave you alone. and now he was asking for your help, that certainly won’t be happening

“because this is serious and only you can help me” now this was different, he was usually the one bantering with you but now he was deadly serious. “look, you have to know that i can get rowdy and maybe fight every now and then-” a scoff comes from your throat at that understatement of the century but you stay quiet to let him continue “in order to graduate i need to get extra credit, the only thing i can do is join a club and they’ll only let me join if they think iam nice and approachable”

“impossible” you did interrupt this time and you do earn a small grin from jungkook but his serious look returns in a flash

“i asked the football coach what i need to do, he said i needed to make it clear that i’ve ditched getting into fights and- settled down” you raise an eyebrow, having no idea where he was leading his little speech to

“and where do i fit in?”

“right so, i told him i was dating someone- you to be exact” your jaw dropped open slightly, you wanted to shout but you were very aware that your were in a library. “happy first day together” he was so nonchalant, completely opposite to when he started the conversation. you sat in silence, just gaping at the man sat across from you in utter disbelief.

“iam going to murder you jeon jungkook”

“hey hey, is that anyway to talk to your boyfriend?” gritting your teeth together you glare at the boy sat in front of you “look i just need you to fake date me for a little while, no big deal” his bad boy persona was starting to really grate on you- although you weren’t entirely sure it was a persona

“no big deal?! iam done with this conversation” you began to pick your things but jungkook reached to grab your hands on the table which made you stop

“y/n please, i need to graduate” for the first time you see worry upon his face as he pleaded with you and strangely you felt- bad for him? god you felt so soft, usually you were stubborn and hard headed but with him there begging you it was hard to turn him down. you knew if you were on the brink of not graduating after putting in hard work that you’d beg anyone to help you

“i can’t believe iam saying this but, fine. despite your ways i don’t think i’ve ever seen you miss a day, you deserve to graduate” jungkook was thrown off, pulling his hands from the top of yours as he looks at you. that one sentence was probably the closest thing to a “well done” he’s ever received in his life and he was stunned.

“thank you, y/n seriously” you give him a slight nod before deflating in your chair, thinking about what you had just gotten yourself into. “now for rules” at this you raised an eyebrow, it had been less then a minute since you agreed to fake date him and he’s already throwing out orders? brilliant

“rules?” he leans back in his chair, the leather of his jacket making a noise as he does so.

“i need everyone on the campus to believe i’ve settled down, so i have rules to make sure it works” rollings your eyes you lean forward, getting more annoyed at him by each passing second

“you do know that iam doing you a favour right? no need to go all alpha male on me and throw around demands, i don’t have to do this”

“you already agreed, verbal contract blah blah blah, so- my rules” you huff, it’s like every word you speak to him goes in one ear and comes shooting out the other with no processing in the middle

#bts fanfic #jungkook #taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook smut

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 10 months

Text

a trailer for Clementine Book Two dropped and y'all... it looks kinda good

T'was a stormy Thursday afternoon as I sat exhausted in my comfy chair after a long day at work, but with the weekend in sight I had little to frown about. Thunder rumbling outside, pitter patter of rain against my window, all cozy enough to make my eyes flutter shut. A nap sounded like a fine idea to start the weekend....

Then I got a notification—the Clementine Book Two trailer dropped. I bolted up from my chair, eyes narrowed down at my phone, and muttered to myself: "Aw shit, here we go again."

Yep. I'm here to dissect a trailer for a book no one wants and share my opinions and theories about it. You can watch the trailer for it here.

Honestly y'all, I think it looks good. I wouldn't say it's great or anything. I'm not THAT hopeful for Book Two. But it's a better trailer than Book One's, that's for sure. The artwork and animations look better and the music slaps.

After having watched it a few times now, I'm starting to question something about myself because I'm not nearly as offended by the existence of these books like I used to be. I still think the games are superior and the comics are indeed flawed, like I stand by all my criticisms, but seeing fans still throw temper tantrums like grumpy toddlers is just... silly? and irritating? At this point, just calm down. If this comic is really that bothersome for you, maybe you should just not look at it? Y'know, for your own well-being?

With that said, onto the screenshots and analysis:

Immediately I gotta point out the improvements in the art. I quite like these shots, there's a definite improvement over Book One.

We see a neat looking walker with either Olivia or a new character lurking behind it, Clementine's crying, and then some silhouettes of who I'm assuming are this new group, or they could be a pack of walkers.

So, I find these shots fascinating. We get a look at a bunch of new characters, and it looks like this new island group is a good mix of ages. We have a kid with an amputated arm, a character in wheelchair- though I believe that first shot kind of looks like Clementine based on the hair and the fact that Ricca and Olivia are there, and that second group screenshot shows a different person using one so maybe they have multiple chairs or something.

I feel like Book One missed an opportunity with the first community Clementine visited, the one where she met Amos and got her new leg. There are other characters there with prosthetics and you'd think Clementine might be interested in speaking to them, y'know? Not many people know what it's like to lose a limb, especially the way she did, and it might be nice for her to related to someone who has gone through a similar experience.

So if Clementine and friends are staying her for a long period of time, I would like to see her talk with that kid missing an arm, or the person using the wheelchair. There's a lot of potential in that.

Also, I do feel like I should bring this up because a criticism I keep hearing about this is the same bullshit I always hear: "A new group with children? The games already did this! Tillie's just copying TFS!"

How many times do I have to read this before I'm allowed to just start grunting disdainly at people?

Like I dunno if y'all have forgotten, but every single season of TWDG had Clementine meet a new group of people, and all of them had at least one kid around her age. TFS didn't invent the concept of a group of kids surviving in the apocalypse, and TWD has several instances of main characters meeting new groups.

Pretty much everything in TWD has been done. If you're gonna be pissy about this comic rehashing previous tropes and ideas, then I better hear you also being pissy about everything post the original TWD comics, and that includes every season of TWDG.

And yes, I get it. It's annoying that Clementine left Ericson and now she's finding a new group. Nothing new is being said here, we've all said it a million times, we know already.

And then there's this:

"but Clem already had a mentor! What about Lee??"

I don't know if you've heard, but Lee's super dead and no longer available for any mentor position.

Luke, Kenny, and Jane were also mentor characters for Clementine in S2. ANF she had Javi. Then in S4 she became the mentor character with AJ. This is a nothing criticism. Hell, you can't even call it that because what it really boils down to is bitching over nothing.

That's what I'm so over. Every time I see someone complain that the comics are just copying the games or whatever, I get irritated because that's not a real criticism. It's people looking to validate their dislike of the comics by making it sound way worse than it really is. You don't have to like the comics, and you can take issue with their existence. There are plenty of things to criticize about Book One that have nothing to do with the damn games, and while I can hope Book Two is an improvement, I am skeptical.

But I'm bored of your "#notmyclementine," it's says nothing new.

ANYWAY... my ranting aside, this must be Miss Morro. I'm curious about her and what her deal is. She's supposedly an "enigmatic doctor" and I'm interested to see if she turns out to be the secret baddie of this book or a red herring.

Ah yes, I'm sure everything on this island isn't going to be super normal, all happy sunshine and rainbows... until it's not. Because that's just how TWD operates.

It looks like they have a nice set up. They have boats for what I assume is fishing, a lot of land, buildings, and are those balloons I see? floating up from a car?? That tells me there's some sort of celebration that's gonna happen.

And it looks like Clementine has her new hat. Not as iconic as her old hat, but I'm sure the sunhat will make a name for itself.

Ah okay. The other thing people were pissy about.

We're still pushing this love story between Clementine and Ricca, just as we did in Book One's trailer.... only for the "romance" in Book One to be lackluster, or rather, nonexistent. As I said in my review, Clementine had more chemistry with Amos than she did with Ricca and that's not great when Ricca's supposed to be the main love interest.

But if we're still doing this, and we clearly are because their hands are touching and we all know that's THE #1 sign of true love, then y'know what? I'm rooting for it.

Don't look at me like that. I'm not letting go of clouis for clemricca, y'all should know better than that. I'm not so weak willed as to think that entertaining the idea of Clementine and Ricca being together in these comics will somehow hurt my love of clouis. The games and comics exist as separate things, it's fine.

I want to see where Tillie takes this. I want to see if Ricca's allowed to be a fleshed out character and not just a place holder love interest. Now that Amos is gone [or is he?] then we should have some free time to devote to them, no?

Also, to answer your question: No, it's never safe to fall in love, this is TWD, don't be silly.

Hmmmm, a dark secret, you say?

I know you're trying to make me think Miss Morro has the dark secret... but I'm suspicious that it's a trick.

Y'all wanna take bets on what the secret of Miss Morro/the island group is? Are they a cult? Cannibals? Doin' weird shit with the walkers? Is this island like the island in Lost and monster bullshit's about to happen?

What's gonna be the twist here, y'know? Tell me what you think, the more absurd the better.

I'm going with the plot twist that they're all genuinely nice people except there's a traitor amongst the group out for revenge... and that traitor is Arvo who got wind that Clementine named her prosthetic after Kenny, remembered how terrible the ending of S2 was, and wants revenge.

That's a lot of walkers.

Looks like a herd will pass through the area... wonder if they just happened by or if someone led them there, hmmm?

Lots of Clementine tears in this trailer, and given she and Ricca are both crying, some emotional shit's probably going down. Maybe they're talking about what happened in Book One, maybe Olivia's just died, maybe Clementine's going more in-depth about her past is ways that will give me a headache. Who knows.

"Clementine has a choice. Keep running and save herself. Or fight a lose it all."

Y'know... I know this won't happen, but a part of me wants a plot twist where Clementine abandons the group and saves herself. I mean, she already abandoned Ericson. She's clearly capable of abandoning AJ for selfish reasons. I would be impressed if Clementine and Ricca just left when shit hit the fan and saved themselves while the island group just burns.

But this IS a YA story, so Clementine's gonna be the hero and sacrifice everything to save everyone, and survive. There's a final book after this so I'm positive that Clementine and Ricca are safe.

Given this kid's crying and we get a close up of the walker's face, I'm predicting that the walker is someone they knew. Or they've never had to kill one before.

Is that.... is that my boy??

My dude?? My guy?? The best character from Book One??

Amos is here, except not really. I'm 99% sure Clementine's dying [again] and is having a dream sequence with Amos telling her she's not gonna die.

Listen, I'm gonna be real with you. I don't think Amos is dead. Unless you show me his corpse or him as a walker, I don't believe he died. Nope. Sorry, but no. You know how this works. Proof, or get outta here with this "Amos couldn't have survived the fall" nonsense. I know he was shoved off a cliff but c'mon. I have to hold out hope for SOMETHING, and that something is the shocking return of an alive Amos.

Also, very interesting that Clementine's seeing him at all. What, no Lee suddenly appearing to her? It's almost like she had a great dynamic and chemistry with Amos over the the rest of the group and his supposed "death" had a big impact on her.

This trailer does a lot better at creating intrigue over what's going to happen. And to clarify, while I'm hopeful that this comic will be an improvement over the first, I'm not expecting it to blow my mind or anything. I'm not expecting it to be great, but I wouldn't complain if it was, y'know?

I already have my copy pre-ordered. I'm prepared to read it ten times so that I can write a thorough "I read it so you don't have to" analysis and review.

And because this has to be said since the trailer's comments are disabled: don't be a dick, y'know? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the trailer and what we know of Book Two so far, but if you're just gonna spew nonsense about hating Tillie or try to convince me she's bad, just... piss off? I don't care, no one cares, come back when you have something of value to add to the conversation. Thanks.

#twdg #twdg clementine #clementine book two

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howaboutcastiel · 2 years

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Hold Me Together (Steven Grant)

Content: Vague descriptions of therapy + trauma. Fluff. Language. Gender-neutral reader.

Summary: Hey! Could I make a request for one of the moon bois (your choice!) helping you out after you get home from a particularly rough therapy session? Could be fluff or smut, once again, your choice! - @buttercuppatea

Word Count: 1,800

Author’s Note: I’ve come to realize that all of my Steven fics end up becoming smut. He deserves some nice fluff once in a while. Also so sorry that this one took a long time!

It shouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary.

Every Thursday afternoon, for as long as you could remember, you met with your therapist for an hour to talk through your life. It was like clockwork; you were determined to help yourself, and your therapist seemed to know just how to make you do that. Each week you would check into her office at 3:45, she’d call you back at 4, and you’d meet Steven for dinner afterward at around 5:15. This week should have been just like that, and it was.

Technically. But it was also so much more.

You pattered out of the office at 5:03, tears streaming down your face. In your particularly shaky grip, you dialed Steven on your phone. He picked up in two rings.

“Hey, love,” he cooed. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” You tried and failed to hide the waiver in your voice. “I just think we should eat at home tonight, yeah? You aren’t already at the restaurant, are you?”

“No, I’m still at the museum.” You could hear him frowning on the other end of the line. “Is there a reason you don’t want to go out?”

“I’m just tired. Can you pick up some Chinese food if I call it in?”

“Of course, darling. You sure everything’s okay?”

“It’s peachy, love. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Walk safe.” You tapped the end call button and shoved your phone into your coat. Steven had no doubt seen right through your adamant statement that everything was okay. It was not okay.

This session had sucked the life out of you. It was a necessary thing, you and your therapist both knew that, but it had rocked you to your core. Facing the past was not an easy thing to do; facing the ways that you had to grow from others’ shortcomings wasn’t a fun time, either. Even now that the hour was over, you struggled to make the tears stop running from your eyes. You just hurt so damn bad. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

Your heart was aching and you were cold. Not the physical kind, but the kind of chill that grew from an emptiness right in your core. You felt so vulnerable, so weak. The sky was caving in on you. It was all you could do just to walk yourself home.

You ordered the food with a monotone voice; the person on the line didn’t really seem to care. As long as you were easy to understand, you supposed. It didn’t matter that much because you couldn’t be bothered to eat, but you knew Steven would be downright starving. When you finally shuffled through the door of your shared open-concept apartment, there was nothing left in you but the empty dread from the previous hour.

You collapsed on the couch.

There were no tears left to cry, your body more exhausted than anything. It wouldn’t be too long now before Steven was coming through your door, boxes of comfort food in hand. You didn’t want him to see what a mess you’d made of yourself today. Reluctantly, you pulled yourself into the bathroom to wash your face.

“I come bearing gifts!” Steven bellowed as he fumbled his way into the front door. You emerged from the bathroom to see him tossing the food onto the kitchen counter, his jacket and hair more than disheveled from the wind. He immediately noticed your distress in spite of your attempt to watch the splotchy evidence away. His head tilted just a bit, his eyes widening with unease. “Oh, love. What’s happened to you?”

He was over by your side instantly, wrapping you in a careful bear hug and leaning his head into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself crumble under his grip.

“Today was hard.” That’s all you managed to get out, new sobs concealing the strength of your voice. You were surprised that you had any tears left at this point.

“You mean at your appointment?” He brought a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into him. You nodded. “Do you need to talk about it?”

“No. I just did an hour of that.” He released you from his grasp, which you’d barely had time to reciprocate with your brain so jumbled and lost. Steven led you over to the couch, wrapping you in your favorite quilt and patting your shoulders.

“I’ll bring the food over here. You want me to make you some tea?” He didn’t know exactly how to help. This was one of those things that didn’t really have a right answer. Steven’s eyes were to their brim with anxious tenderness. You knew that look; he dawned that expression whenever someone around was broken and he felt the need to pick up the pieces. He was quite good at that.

“I would love that. Thank you.” You really didn’t want to burden him, but you just couldn’t move. Every little breath was draining, every thought in your head a sorrowful one. How could you still feel so broken? You were here now. You were safe. You had a wonderful boyfriend to call your own. How could the past still drag you so deeply through the mud?

Steven brought over the boxes, some forks and napkins, and a piping hot mug. You thanked him with a lazy smile and he kissed your cheek before setting on the cushion beside you. You threw yourself into his grasp, not with much force but with a lot of resigned anguish. He sighed into your hair.

“You’re okay, darling. I’m right here.” He didn’t put a lot of pressure into holding you, grazing your skin just so you knew that his strong arms were there. Steven had no trouble snaking his arms around your grasp to push the lo mein into his mouth. He was remarkably calm, even steady as he let you wrap around him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure you can, love.” You were beginning to feel a bit better just from his touch. He had that effect on people; Steven radiated optimism in a way that made it hard for those around him to remain too sad. You swore it was a true supernatural power.

“Do you need a distraction, or just someone to be sad with?” Again, he was exceptionally calm. You turned your head to see a gentle smile painted on his face, genuine curiosity in his eyes.

“God damn it, Steven. You’re too good at this.” He let a soft chuckle out as you contemplated. “I need someone to be sad with, I guess. But I don’t want you to be sad with me. I more just want you to be here. While I’m sad.”

“I can do that.” He snuggled up to you as you sipped from your mug. Steven always made your tea perfectly.

He clicked the television on, turning the volume down low and skipping channels until he landed on a fairly innocent sitcom. You felt your appetite starting to creep in; maybe the stress was fading away enough that you’d be able to eat your dinner before it got cold. Steven ran his hands along your back, having scarfed down his own meal about as quickly as you had expected. You breathed a sigh of thankfulness into the universe as you felt that your box was still warm.

As you shoveled the warm food into your mouth, the tension began to dissipate from the center of your chest. It still wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but the overwhelming dread at least was starting to melt away. You had a thought.

“St—Steven.” You sheepishly murmured at him.

“Darling?”

“Can you sing to me?”

He was taken aback by this. You’d never asked him to sing to you before. It was more of something that you caught him doing. Steven sang in the shower, he hummed while he cleaned and he straight-up performed any time that he cooked, but those were all things he did anyway. The only times he sang to you were when you’d wake in the night from a nightmare or when he was trying to annoy you when you weren’t paying him enough attention.

“I—um… what would you like me to sing?” You saw the tips of his cheeks turn red. Steven didn’t exactly sing for the benefit of an audience. Sure, he knew that he could carry a tune, but he was nervous about your ask.

He didn’t think too much about it, though.

“I don’t know, anything? What about something in French?” And so that was that.

He began to softly sing La Vie En Rose, the only song he had memorized that somewhat vaguely matched your request. His voice was slightly gruff as it hit his lower range, which sent a warm feeling up your spine. Steven leaned your head up against him, letting you feel the vibrations of his chest as he lullabied to you.

The stress was melting away. Much of the worry went along with it. You existed in a pocket of time; there was nothing here but the warm feeling of his touch and the soft sound of his voice. The past meant nothing to you right now. You felt a pressure build behind your eyes as he finished the first verse. It wasn’t the same pressure as before.

It was just so perfect. You didn’t know how he’d managed to get to you this way. Each word from his mouth reached your ears with such elegance and he was holding onto you in just the right way. Immediately, you began to forget all those spiraling thoughts that had followed you all the way home. They meant nothing now. Not here.

He stopped mid-verse when he saw the tears roll down your cheek. Concern grew all over his face. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

“Oh, baby. You didn’t make it worse.” You smiled at him through the wetness, your vision blurred. “Keep going. These are happy tears.”

He finished the song, and by this time you had finished your meal. You laid down in his lap, allowing him to play with your hair as he found another lullaby to begin. There the two of you remained for a long while, your tension all drifting away. You let the sound of his voice lull you into a deep, absolutely dreamless sleep.

No tagged peeps

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #oscar isaac #steven grant x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant x you #moon night fanfiction #moon knight imagine #fluff #masterlist

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fragileizywriting · 1 year

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C'est La Sea!!

Today I'm staring my MerMay series for my lukanette mermaid AU!

AO3 | Prompt List

I'm going to (try) to post every Tuesday and Thursday, but lord knows it might not actually happen. Life will get to me, I won't keep up with my own schedule, I'll have a cry about it... but we will persevere. An attempt will be made!!

I'm borrowing a few prompts from LBSC's own Mermay prompts for this month, and I'll tag them when I get to one of them. This is so exciting!!!

Today's prompt: Growing Up

“Why are they so mean to me?” He sniffled.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I thought they were my friends, but I don’t think friends are supposed to make my other friends upset. Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Luka?”

“I don’t understand why they pick on me.”

“Me neither.”

She watched him carefully as she sat down close to him. She didn’t want him to leave, and take off in the direction of the murky and darker water outside of the reef where she couldn’t follow, so she hoped that sitting down next to him, in reach of him to touch one of his fins was enough to get him to stay with her. Afterall, if she were crying and upset and someone sat down next to her to talk about it, she wouldn’t swim away— so why would he?

The reef was colorful and warm in this glowing and hazy afternoon, and she liked to kick her tail up against the soft sand and watch the grains plume up and get carried by the gentle current that drifted between the two of them. She busied herself with sitting next to him, petting and waving at the fish that curiously drifted by, reaffirming to a couple of clownfish that everything was fine when they alarmed at the scent and sight of blood coming off of him.

“Can I see where he bit you?” She reached for his arm to get his attention when he didn’t answer.

Luka turned his head just enough to really look at her. There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t really understand, but he didn’t flinch away or even move his tail at all when she checked one of his fins for the bite mark. A steady red cloud from his blood was starting to pick up the more she moved the fin around, checking to see if the tear was anything serious, but he didn’t even look uncomfortable. Just… confused. “Why aren’t you scared of me like they are, Marinette?”

“Why would I be scared of you?” She looked back up to pretty blue eyes. “You’re not scary.”

“They don’t think that.” Luka curled, took an armful of his tail between his arms and hid his face with curled shoulders. “They think I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster!”

“They don’t like it when my eyes change color.”

“I think your gold eyes are really cool,” she whispered, but Luka continued to hide his face. She pouted when he wouldn’t look up at her. “I think everything about you is cool. I don’t think you’re a monster.”

“Yes I am.”

“No way.”

“I can prove it.”

“No, you can’t, because it’s not true!”

“Do you have fangs like me?”

“No…” She bit her lip.

“Can you swim as fast as me?”

“Not as fast as you. You’re the fastest out of all of us.”

Luka shrank further and further into a ball. “Do you have claws like me?”

“Wait, but, neither do you!”

“Not yet, but I’m going to grow them when I get older.” He looked down at his hands. There was still that cut on his palm from the fight that had happened two hours ago, from when he’d been pushed into the wall of shells that line the school gate. “I’m going to get my claws, and I’m going to be able to see in the dark, and I’m going to hear better than anyone in the reef. I’m going to be the most terrifying thing in the world. No one will love me. No one loves a sea-dweller.”

“But that’s not true. Your mom is from the deep sea, too, and she’s not scary.”

“My mom is terrifying.”

“No way. She’s super friendly!”

“You’re just saying that because she’s nice to you.”

“She gives me a lot of human things,” Marinette agreed, “Like that— uhm— the thing that tells time?”

“A clock.” There was finally a smile on his face, even if it was small and almost ghost-like, but Marinette beamed at the sight of it. “It’s called a clock.”

“That’s so cool that you know the names of human things,” she whispered as she wiggled closer. It was hard for her to stay completely still on the rock without fidgeting, so she tried her hardest not to wrap her tail around his like she normally did with her friends. She liked braiding her tail and fins against other people, and liked close contact with others, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was for Luka to decide that personal space was something he valued more over getting comforted by a friend.

“I only know a lot of human things because I visit my dad a lot.”

“That’s what the band on your tail is for, right?” She gestured to the green band that enclosed around his tail with the tip of her fin. Maybe if she got a little bit closer, he wouldn’t mind if she let their fins brush against each other, right?

“Oh, yeah! It’s my ouroboros. It lets me look like a human, if I want to, so I can blend in up there. Humans don’t have tails, so, I have to learn how to walk.”

“That’s so cool, Luka!” She squealed, clapping her hands together. He jumped a little when her tail brushed against his, but didn’t shy away. Dark green-blue and smooth scales brushed up against her pale pink fins, and she found that she really liked the color combination. She liked the thought of their tail braiding. She liked the thought of it being a more common thing. “You must have so much fun all the time up there with your dad!”

“Oh, yeah. Dad really likes it when we visit,” he nodded softly. “He loves us a lot, and complains to Mom all the time that he misses her whenever she’s gone, like he has bond fever himself even though he’s just a human. He’s really nice to Jules, too, and he’s learning sign language just so that she doesn’t feel lonely.”

“Wow, he sounds really nice.” Wow, she would love to meet him! Anyone that could make Luka smile like that was someone really important to him— his smile was wide enough to show parts of the sharp edges of his fangs, happy and bright.

Why was it that people were afraid of Luka? Why were all the boys so mean to him? What about Luka’s differentness made their classmates so afraid? She couldn’t figure it out at all.

“Oh, yeah. He’s super cool. He says that I’m going to be a rockstar one day.”

A… rockstar? A rock from under the ocean and a star in the sky? Maybe it was a human term for merfolk that lived in both worlds, but even still, the name didn’t really fit Luka at all. She looked at him for a while, eyes narrowing as Luka continued to blink at her, large blue eyes looking straight into hers. She looked at his hair, and how vibrant the ends of them seemed to glow just as blue as his tail. “I don’t know, Luka.”

He tilted his head. “Oh. You think I won’t be able to?”

“You’re more of a sky to me, not a rockstar.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Like a sunny blue sky.”

“What?”

“You’re not a rock.”

“Oh.” He grinned, his face turning red. “Oh. Uhm. It’s not a nick name— a rockstar is someone who plays music and is really good at it and has a bunch of people who want to listen always.”

“Oh!”

“When I get big, I’m thinking of becoming a rockstar.”

“You’re really good at singing!” She agreed easily, ruffling her fins a bit in excitement. “I love your singing voice, Luka, it’s always so sweet. You would be the coolest rockstar ever.”

“Mom says that I’m going to be huge when I grow up, too, maybe be even longer than your dad.”

She gasped. “Wow. That’s actually really long. I don’t think I know anyone as long as him.”

“Apparently you will, when we grow up. I might be the weirdest fish in the reef, with my singing and my length.”

“Weird? How could that be weird? Having an amazing singing voice— you already have that!” She grinned. “And the longness? I don’t think that’ll be bad. My dad is already very long and it doesn’t bother anyone in the reef at all, so why would they be bothered by your? I don’t think you’re going to be weird, I think you’re going to be one of the coolest ‘dweller ever!”

“I guess so. But what’s so cool about being considered a monster by my friends and getting into fights?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t even do anything to him. I didn’t do anything at all— no one wants to talk to me, because they get scared of my eyes changing color, and when they finally do, it’s just to pick on me!”

She frowned. “But—”

“No one wants to get paired up with me in school because they think my scales changing color is going to happen to them.”

“Hey! You’re forgetting about—”

“No one wants to even sit with me at lunch because I eat too much.”

“I sit with you!” Marinette crossed her arms, pouting at him. “How come you’re forgetting I do all those things?”

“I don’t want you to keep doing them. Why are you doing that?” Luka pouted back at her. “Why are you nice to me?”

“Because I like you.”

“Oh.” Luka’s face turned red. “But—”

“And you like me.”

He scoffed, turning even redder. “Everyone likes you. You’re the most popular girl in school.”

She frowned again. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“What? It’s so obvious, though. You’re everyone’s favorite.”

Who cared? That wasn’t important to her in the slightest. “But, what about you? Am I your favorite?”

“Uhm—”

“Because you’re my favorite. I like you,” she repeated, tugging softly at his arm when he shut up like a clam. Funny— even though Luka continued to tell her that he was a monster, it never appeared to her that way whenever she interacted with him. Always so shy, always so unsure, always ginger and cautious whenever she approached— like she’s the monster, not him. “I like you very much, Luka.”

She gave in to her impulses.

She wrapped her tail against his— her pink and glossy side fins touching translucent and bright blue ones. Their scales were different, too— and she could tell the difference the best when she was sitting right next to him. He was smooth, almost like he had no scales at all, and the texture felt weird on her skin. He almost felt as smooth as a dolphin, but he definitely had scales. He had told her that it made him more ‘efficient’ in swimming, but the both of them didn’t actually know what that meant. It was probably a word they would learn with their next teacher.

He didn’t stiffen when she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him tight enough to squeeze— in fact, he hugged back, hiding his face in her hair. “But why? Why do you do all of this? Why do you sit with me? Why do you hug me? Why are you never afraid of me?”

“Because I always want to be your partner,” she whispered softly. “I really enjoy being your friend. You’re my favorite friend.”

“Oh. M-me too. I mean, I don’t have many friends, but— you’re still my favorite.”

She grinned at him. “And I also do all of these things because I really really like you!”

“I—”

“Like, really like you!”

Now this got him to freeze up. It almost felt like she was touching a stone, but she glanced up at him, to his wide blue eyes and reddened face and twitching mouth— and tilted her head to the side as he struggled to find words. “Oh. I— I really like you, too.”

“I think you’re really cool, and really friendly. You’re always so nice to me, and I think you’re really sweet and it makes me want to…” She struggled to find the right word. She gave in to just squeezing her own shoulders the moment she pulled away from him, squealing from how hard this emotion felt to her, like it was the only thing that mattered. “This. But forever!”

Was it possible for Luka to turn entirely red? He was definitely on his way to doing it. “Oh y-yeah?”

“It’s so exciting to be your friend, because you always have some really cool stories, not to mention all the cool things you give me. I care about you so much, Luka. Every time I see you I want to wrap my tail around you and go watch the jellyfish with you. My mom and my dad do that a lot together, and I’ve been there before, and I always feel like there’s something missing— it’s you! I want to know if it’s something you’d like!”

“Okay,” he whispered after a long moment of her smiling hard at him. “I— uhm— I believe you. I care— uhm— I care about you too. A lot.”

“You do?”

“So much,” he confessed. “So so much. I… uhm. I’ve never seen the jellyfish before, but it sounds really nice. Can we go together?”

“Absolutely! I’m so glad!” She squealed again, wrapping her tail tighter around him, almost tossing the both of them off the rock they were perched on from how fast she moved. Luka laughed with barely any breath left in him, nuzzling into her hair. “I can’t wait!”

AO3 | Prompt List

#speakizys #cest la sea #pro lukanette #pro lukamari #lukanette endgame

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devintrinidad · 2 months

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15, 16, & 24 for the ask game ♡

Hi, Chloe! Thanks for the asks! :D

15. What’s your favorite season?

I really like winter! The season is so beautiful and it's cold and everyone gets bundled up??? It's so nice! Love it! I'm also partial to how autumn slowly transitions into winter and how winter transitions into spring. Maybe it's because I haven't seen snow in years, but the icy frigidity is comforting.

16. Want any tattoos? What of?

I know I talk a big game about phlebotomy, but I'm really allergic to pain. I don't like it. I'm fine with vaccines and blood draws, but only because it's necessary. Tattoos are pretty, but I don't think I would enjoy the process on myself personally. Plus, I would put so much time and effort in finding a tattoo that holds a lot of meaning to me, but isn't seen as tacky to others, that I'll eventually chicken out and not do it anyway.

Okay, the next one is kinda personal, so I'm putting it under a readmore:

24. When was the last time you cried? Why?

At work.

Okay, full context and the story, here we go:

So, the last time was literally a week or so ago, on a Thursday. I mentioned before that I work with autistic children, but I don't think I mentioned that I don't really have a lot of experience with working with small kids. Yes, I do have a psychology degree, but I didn't think the company that hired me would take me on because I don't really have that much experience to back me up.

Anyway, I'm a behavior technician, which means that my job is to teach kids how to be more independent through discrete trial or incidental teaching. (It's a lot of technical jargon, but think of me as a teacher, but I allow my kids to roam and run free while I incorporate lessons into what they do).

So, on this particular Thursday, I'm with an afternoon session with one of my kids. He's really smart and he's adorable! He can write letters and even words! He's mostly nonverbal, but he'll let you know what he wants by gesturing and using what little vocabulary he has. (He also has a hyperfixation on farms/farm animals... you'll see how that pertains the story later).

That day, I was still getting supervision on my sessions, but sometimes, my boss had to leave to supervise others or to do some paperwork. When he did supervise me, he was always quick to provide feedback or praise, but the feedback hits extra hard because I'm still learning. I know he means well, but I can't deny that I felt a little disheartened, especially when I know that the other behavior techs on my team are so great with our kids.

In my session with this particular kid, we're at a table and he's trying to play with a toy barn. The doors had been taken off (don't ask me why, I think some other kids were rowdy with it) and he was trying to put them back on. He was getting frustrated and I asked him, "Hey, friend, do you need help? I can put them back on for you." And he kinda shoves the doors into my hands and I try to put the barn doors back on.

Thing was: the barn doors weren't cooperating. I mean, the doors were eventually fixed, but I must not have worked fast enough because ten seconds later (doors were still not on the little barn), my kid starts howling.

A note about me: I get really uncomfortable when other people cry. It's not like I dislike the crying, but because I don't know what to do... and I also do get the urge to cry. (It's gotten better over the years, but when I was a little kid, if someone started crying, I would usually start crying too).

I tried telling my kid, "Hey, friend! It's almost fixed! We're gonna have a great time with the farm, right?" And like encouraging him to be patient with a lower tone of voice, but it wasn't working.

There happened to be another behavior tech in the room (not on my team) with her own kid and she tried to help me, but my kid started going ballistic.

He was bawling, practically screaming, and I think there were some other things on the table like books and stuffed animals???? that he swiped them off the table and onto the ground.

Eventually, the other behavior tech left because her kid was probably getting overstimulated by the meltdown and I also fell silent. I just...

I didn't know what to do.

He wasn't responding to my attempts to soothe him, he wasn't responding my attempts to give him markers or toys.

Eventually, my boss came back and he took charge.

Chloe.

This man.

He is so good with kids.

He started with telling the kid that his feelings were valid, that it was all right to cry.

The kid started to calm down, but was still noticeably agitated.

So, noticing that, my boss started singing Old Macdonald and that's when the kid finally calmed down, relaxed, and went back to playing with some toys.

The entire exchange happened in like five minutes and I was stunned.

This man, he just??? Calmed down the kid in the most soothing way possible? Creatively too?

And then, he starts telling me that sometimes we have to adapt to our kids needs, that we have to think things from our perspective. He also told me about deescalation strategies and how to improve in the future.

And it was all great advice!

But!

Here's the thing:

My kid had been having a meltdown for like ten to fifteen minutes before my boss came in and I'm in near tears.

I'm. In. Near. Tears.

Now was not a great time to give me a lesson.

And that's on me. I should have been open and honest that maybe I needed a break, needed some space, all that jazz.

But like, I kept quiet about it, responded to his questions and told him that I understood, but the entire time, I was close to breaking.

(So either I'm really good at concealing how I'm feeling, my boss didn't notice, or my boss did notice and decided not to say anything. Whatever the three... it's not good).

Eventually, my kid wanted to leave for another room and my boss had to go supervise someone else.

So:

I'm in another room, my kid is currently drawing on another table, I'm still reeling from feeling useless and pathetic, and then! Another player arrives.

This lady who comes in told me that she's going to supervise me and give me some more tips since my boss needs to handle another behavior tech. The lady is the clinical director, so she knows a lot about kids and psychology in general.

So, she goes on about different strategies to help me run trials with my kids and how to deal with challenging behaviors.

On any other day, this would be a great learning experience! I like learning ways to improve my methods on delivering treatment!

But! Not today. Not right now when I'm still trying to process my feelings and the fact that my kid still isn't responding/attending/allowing me to build rapport with him.

I try my best to deliver trials with the lady's advice, but he continues ignoring me for the rest of the session.

Chloe.

I was in session with that kid for two hours. The first forty five minutes were kinda fine, the next fifteen was the meltdown, and that final hour was spent in near tears trying to keep everything together and promising myself that I would cry at home.

Eventually, I had to transition my kid to another behavior tech (he was my final session and I could go home... if it weren't for the fact that I was scheduled for like a final meeting where my boss could go over scheduling, my treatment delivery, etc.)

So, I'm still in the middle of not trying to cry when my boss goes, "How is everything?"

And Chloe:

That's when I was started to lose it:

"Not well."

And that's such a short thing to say, right? But I must have said it loud enough for him to hear because my voice was cracking and I was hiding my face so he doesn't see (I'm a firm believer in eye contact and he had been supervising me a while to know that, I think) and he goes:

"Take a break."

And I just run.

Tears are literally escaping my eyes, I'm rushing out of there and into a bathroom and that's when I start literally crying.

Like,

Literally wailing and trying to stifle everything.

For ten long minutes, I was in that bathroom trying to come up with a good reason to go outside and face my boss, because??? I didn't want to be caught dead crying in front of my boss! Who does?

Eventually, I began balling up wads of tissues and drowning them water so I can place them on my eyes. (It helps with redness so it doesn't look like I'm crying). I also, on the off chance that I began crying again, grabbed some more tissues from a nearby toilet paper roll.

And I headed back inside.

And that's when I saw my boss and the clinical director standing together talking.

My anxiety has gotten better over the years, but in that instant, all my worst fears were coming to pass. Were they discussing how badly I handled my final session that day? Were they criticizing me? Were they letting me go? Was I not good enough for them?

When they gestured for me to come meet them, they were smiling and looking supportive, but like??? At that moment, I felt myself breaking even more.

When I approached, the clinical director was like, "Hey, how're you doing?" And her voice was really soft and soothing and I really wanted to believe that she meant well.

And I kinda wanted to play off that I was fine and doing okay because I kinda just waved my balled up fist filled with toilet paper tissues, "Oh, yeah! I'm fine! I even got extra tissues just in case!"

Which.

I don't know.

Is not a normal thing to say?

And I think that's when they understood that I was not. Okay.

Because that's when the clinical director was going to say something, but--

I teared up and started sobbing again.

Full on crying.

Thank goodness kids are loud and behavior techs learn to mind their own business except for when it comes to their own kids hahaha~!

As soon as I began crying, I hid my face in my hands and I felt the lady come and give me a hug.

Cue me crying even harder because I expected the worst, and the worst was technically happening, but the clinical director??? Was so soft??? And warm??? And why is she hugging me???

And I hear them talking to each other and I’m still kind of not in the moment except for trying to keep it together even though I’ve long since lost it and that’s when I hear, “Let’s go into another room, okay?”

And they begin ushering me into a nearby conference room.

(I don’t think anyone was paying attention, but it was still humiliating rushing somewhere unknown while I’ve got my fists bawled up against my eyeballs).

Anyway, I'm apologizing for... I don't know... everything? Like I'm apologizing for crying, for not being good enough, for taking up their time because they shouldn't have to baby me.

And you know what? They didn't baby me at all.

Instead, they really talked to me as a person. They told me that I was doing great, that I was still learning and it was expected that I would make mistakes. They also told me that the clinical director should have been debriefed better because my boss thought that the both of us could handle it and that the situation hadn't impacted me as badly as it really did. In all honesty, it's kinda funny. It was because of miscommunication and misunderstanding, which is ironic because I'm pretty sure everyone in the room majored in psychology at one point lol

Anyway, my head is kinda ducked underneath the table because, again, I'm still crying and I'm not pretty to look at when full on crying. The both of them agree that they'll meet me again tomorrow (it's close to the end of my shift, so I was going to leave) and that they were going to talk about how they were going to make it so that I would be more comfortable in this environment, how to lessen the burden of transition, and what else they could do to help me.

The clinical director had to leave because she had to attend to other matters, but my boss held me back for a couple more minutes.

(Okay, that's more of a hyperbole).

He told me that I could stay in the privacy of the meeting room as long as I wanted so that I could gather myself and calm down.

He told me that I was doing really well... but that's not the only thing he told.

He told me to have compassion for myself, that I'm at where I need to be, and that if he wanted to fire me or found fault in my work/attitude, we would be having a wildly different conversation.

Yesterday, I told you that what happened made me into a better person. I think that was an exaggeration. I'm not a better person.

Yet.

I don't know, the words he told me and how he told it, with so much compassion and empathy. He was calm and he didn't talk me down. He let me cry and ask him questions.

I aspire to be as empathetic, to always see the humanity in others. I want to be the person others can look to when it comes to trust and opening up their vulnerabilities.

He also told me that it took years of working with kids and I had just started. Of course I wasn't going to be the best at it, there is a learning curve and I was doing my best. And that's a good thing.

Afterwards, I finally left and went home.

I kinda cried a little before work started the next day, but I think I got better and began working towards trying to embody not only an improved behavior technician, but also a better person.

So yeah.

tldr; A patient under my care had a meltdown, I had a meltdown, and my boss and another boss saw it and talked me through it.

Thank you so much for the questions, Chloe! I know this took longer than it should have, but the experience hit me really hard. I hadn't cried that hard since my meltdown back in June so yeah.

I hope you have a wonderful night and that your grandmother had an even better birthday! :D

#ask #ask game #hystericfae #hystericfae ask #might as well ask you a question #have you ever cried in a situation like this? maybe not in front of your boss #but definitely in front of people you would never imagine being vulnerable in front of #devintrinidad #answered #personal

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