#and i hope i’ve done enough i hope i’ve fucking done enough
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff!
warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk
a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you.
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough.
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes.
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement.
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment.
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them.
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up.
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you.
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie.
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can.
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks.
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy.
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft.
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly.
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait.
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest.
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back.
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow.
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly.
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.”
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you.
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features.
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table.
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness.
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum.
Spencer doesn’t respond.
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy.
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks.
You do it again.
Another squeak.
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can.
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark.
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won.
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding.
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one.
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile.
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you.
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously.
“You’d be surprised.”
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him.
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you.
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago.
But you don’t bring those up.
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth.
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face.
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?”
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently.
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that.
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine
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High Definition
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie travels a lot and if she can’t have you with her, she wants the next best thing, some high def photos and videos of you. Jessie gets carried away as she starts to build her collection.
Warning: Smut. Masturbation, strapping, rough sex, mentions of breeding (sorry folks!). And language, of course.
A/N: LOVED this request. Thank you so much to whoever submitted it. Hope you all enjoy.
“Mmm.” You moaned into your kiss with Jessie as you ran your hands through her wavy hair. She moved a leg upwards, nudging yours further apart. You obliged with a small chuckle and wrapped them around her.
Jessie tilted her head and began kissing you deeper. Her hips subconsciously rolled against you as she felt herself growing wetter as you two carried on.
“How much do you love me?” Jessie asked between kisses, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
You kissed her again and caressed her cheek. “A lot. Why?”
“Enough to try something for me?” Jessie continued as she kissed along your jawline.
“Mmm, such as what?” You asked a smile in your voice.
Jessie pulled back enough to look you in your eyes. “I want to take pictures of you. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to record you as well.”
You paused as you processed her request. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. She held your gaze as she awaited your response. You were about to open your mouth when she spoke up.
“I know that’s a big ask. But, I’m away so much it would be so amazing to have that kind of thing with me. I know privacy and security is probably a huge concern - I have a whole plan for how I can make sure I am the only one who ever, ever sees it. And if you ever want me to get rid of it, I’ll delete everything - no questions asked.”
“Jess.” You said her name as you thumbed her rosy cheek. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t be flippant or careless about this.” You took a small breath. “Sure. Okay. Let’s do it.”
Her eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed her freckled face.
“For real?”
“Yeah,” you assured her, though you felt a blush start to form. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”
“We don’t have to if-”
You held a finger up to her lips. “It’s okay, babe. I want to. But, you have to tell me what you want. I’ve never done this before.”
Jessie beamed again and she kissed you eagerly.
“Me neither. But I’ve thought about it more than I care to admit, so, don’t worry. I’ll direct you,” she finished with a wink.
“Okay, stud,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you playfully shoved against her shoulders.
Jessie began kissing you again and soon she had lifted your shirt over your head and discarded it. She sat back on her heels momentarily before hopping off of the bed and retrieving her phone.
“This is really happening, isn’t it?” You asked, suddenly nervous and self-consciously wrapping an arm across your chest even though you still donned your bra.
“Don’t worry, you look stunning. Always,” Jessie assured you. “And honestly, if you feel uncomfortable and want to stop at any point. Just say so.”
“Okay,” you nodded. You let out a small breath. “I’m ready - what do you want?”
Jessie stood up on the bed, now towering over you phone in hand.
“Okay, put your arms behind you and lean back. Look up at me,” she instructed. You did as you were told. “Mm. You look gorgeous, baby. Okay, now tuck your legs under you - yeah, like that.” She took a couple more pictures.
“You’re a natural,” she said with a wink. “Okay, take your bra off.”
“Oh gosh,” you said though you took it off and tossed it aside. You instinctively cupped your breasts and looked up at her.
“Oh fuck,” Jessie said as she began taking more pictures. A shiver went through her as you bit your lip and pushed your breasts together. “That’s perfect.”
“Yeah? I wish they were your hands,” you told her with a smirk. She dropped down onto the bed and kissed you.
“All in good time,” she promised before sitting back. “Okay, can you lean back into the pillows this time? And, here,” she moved with you and leaned down, kissing your stomach, trailing kisses downward until she got to the waistband of your jeans. She gave your skin a short lick and she reached up to undo them until she could see your underwear. She smiled and sat back taking another photo.
“Kay.” She looked at you, studying you for a moment before continuing. “I want you to put your hand down your pants and touch yourself.”
You couldn’t help the short laugh that came from you and your cheeks began to burn.
“It’s okay, baby,” she told you soothingly. “I’ll help.” She climbed up your body and kissed you deeply as she laced your fingers together and brought your hand to your pants. She unlaced them and laid her hand on top of yours before guiding your hand under the band of your panties and exploring downward. She brought your hand to your clit and used your fingers to circle and then slip through your folds. You moaned and your head fell further back into the pillows.
“Just like that, baby,” she whispered as she pulled back and retrieved her phone once more. She chewed the inside of her lip as you spread your legs and slowly ground your hips up and down into your hand, your eyes closed. “Christ, you’re so hot,” Jessie praised as she took photos.
“Mmm, Jess,” you moaned, eyes still closed as you played with your clit and rolled your hips.
“Oh fuck, babe,” Jessie breathed, her own core pulsing with arousal now. She didn’t realize how her breathing had both quickened and deepened as she continued to photograph you.
“I need to see more of you,” she went on, lust heavy in her voice. You opened your eyes to look at her and she reached up and began shimmying your pants down your legs. “Mmm,” she voiced as she tossed them aside and leaned forward, her hands on your thighs as she kissed her way up towards your core. She could see how soaked your panties were and your scent was driving her wild.
“Mmm, Jess,” you repeated, your voice more desperate this time. You bit your lip at the growl she let out.
“I want to film you this time,” Jessie told you as sat back and held up her phone again. She didn’t hit record until she got a nod of affirmation out of you.
You dipped your fingers down through your wet folds again, tracing around your entrance before retreating back up to circle your clit.
“Jessie,” you breathed.
“Yes, baby girl,” she responded as she filmed you, her jaw slack as she watched you work.
“Do you know how wet you make me?”
Jessie grunted. “Let’s see, baby girl,” she said as she reached out with her free hand and moved your panties aside to see your slick entrance. “Fuck,” she breathed in reverence as she dipped two fingers inside, pulling a high moan out of you as your hips lifted to follow her fingers. “You’re so gorgeous.” Jessie’s jaw fell further as you pushed two fingers in alongside hers, stretching you out. “Oh my god,” she breathed.
It took concerted effort for Jessie to keep you in frame as her eyes were fixated on your core. She shook out her head and withdrew her fingers to tug at the waistband of your underwear.
“I want to see you fully,” she told you as she sat back to get your face into frame again. You gave her an impish smirk and lifted your hips off the mattress to remove your panties.
You traced your fingers through your folds once more, now totally exposed. “See what you do to me?” You asked.
Jessie groaned deep in her throat as you dipped your fingers back inside of you and withdrew them, your cum glistening on your fingers. The wet sounds that came from each movement had Jessie aching between her legs.
She continued to film you while you softly moaned as you played with your clit. It took concerted effort for Jessie to not start feeling herself up and relieve at least some of her tension.
She noticed you quickening your pace and ended the video, setting down her phone right away and walking over to her nightstand.
She grinned when you tilted your head to follow her with your gaze, but you didn’t slow or falter your movements. Your body slowly gyrated, hips rocking into your hand and head pushing into the pillows behind you as you continued to please yourself and watch her.
“Let me help you,” Jessie announced as she slipped on her harness. You gave her an appreciative look as she climbed back onto the bed and retrieved her phone once again. Your expression turned curious.
“Are you going to film this too?” You asked, your voice hitching as a jolt of pleasure went through you.
“If you’re okay with it,” Jessie answered as she reached down and overtook your fingers, rubbing your clit for you instead. You released a loud moan and you buried your head into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as she took over. She smirked. “I need a ‘yes’, baby.”
“Yes,” you nearly gasped, your hands urgently clutching the sheets as Jessie dipped a couple of fingers inside again. You moaned once more, but eventually managed to open your eyes to look at her. “How are you going to do it?”
Jessie curled her fingers inside of you as she withdrew before pushing them back in. She bit back a smile as you writhed under her touch. “As much as I’d love to see your face, I think I’ll have the most control if I’m behind you and you’re on your hands and knees.”
You laughed through a moan and gave her an affectionate look. “Most control in more ways than one.”
Jessie’s smirk turned a bit coy for a second before she shrugged and gave you a nod. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” She withdrew her fingers and sat back.
You returned her smirk as you rose up and turned over so you were on your knees in front of her. “You know I’ll enjoy it.” You looked over your shoulder at her. “Why don’t you set the phone up on a stand of some kind? I want footage, too, but of us, not just me.” Jessie blushed.
“That’ll be the next stage, and for another time,” she said. She knew it wasn’t fair that she was filming you and she, herself, not being on camera, but she was going to have to work her way up to that.
“Mmm,” Jessie hummed, momentarily distracted as she grabbed your ass and kneaded it with her hand. She started rocking against you, the strap rubbing your clit and sliding through your folds. “You ready?”
You dropped down onto your forearms, your back arching before her, and you shifted your hips back to meet her, grinding yourself on her strap. “I’m all yours.”
Jessie drew her bottom lip between her teeth, a wide smile tugged at her mouth. She held up her phone so her torso, the strap and you were in view.
“Okay, here we go.” She hit record.
She ran the strap up and down your slick folds a few more times, relishing the way you were sensually grinding against it.
“Look at how gorgeous you are,” Jessie said, mouth slightly agape as she took you in. She wasn’t really intending to speak during these videos, but she couldn’t help it. You brought it out of her and seeing you like this made her feel intoxicated.
“Mm, stop teasing me, babe. I want you inside,” you pleaded as your leaned your shoulders further down, your arms stretching out and palming the bed.
“Mm, fuck,” she voiced as she lined herself up at your entrance. “Anything for you, babe,”
She shifted her hips forward and watched as the strap slowly entered you. Your drawn out moan was like a siren call to her.
She laid a hand on your hip as she rest inside of you, the strap as deep as it could go. She waited a moment before slowly drawing her hips back until just the tip was stretching you out. She tilted the phone a bit to fully capture how you were stretched tight around her, your entrance gripping her as if urging her not to pull out.
“Mm. Can’t wait to show you how good you stretch for me. How full you are with me inside you,” Jessie said, her voice hoarse with lust. You let out a needy moan, turned on by her narration. Jessie’s jaw hitched as she saw you flex around her, trying to draw her back in.
“You are so sexy,” Jessie said as she sunk in again to the hilt, slightly faster this time. She reached forward and ran a hand along the curve of your back, waiting a moment before withdrawing once more.
She continued like this for several more strokes. Taking her time to appreciate the different views and angles as she pleasured you. You mewled as she patiently fucked you, clenching and releasing the covers as she painstakingly slowly helped you ascend your peak.
“You’re so wanting, baby,” Jessie teased, knowing fully well what you needed.
“Baby, please. I need more,” you whined as you pushed your hips back into her, urging her to go faster and harder.
“Hold on, Princess,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cumming around my cock in no time.”
Jessie had really not been planning on this being part of the audio. But, hey, this is what sex was like with you two. She just had to be extremely sure this video never ever went beyond her own possession.
Jessie kneaded your ass again, grinding her teeth as she did so. She gripped you so hard your skin flashed white and then red when she released you. She wasn’t going to be able to hold back for much longer either.
She ran a hand along your side and leaned forward to cup your breast, massaging it in time with her slow strokes. She adored the way you arched your back, pushing your chest into her hand as she did so.
She pinched your nipple, drawing a gasp out of you before she leaned back once more. She watched on the screen as the strap pulled out of you, glistening with cum, before sliding back inside.
Jessie picked up her pace, and from the way your moans grew louder, you were more than ready. The sounds of her strap moving in and out of you filled the room and caused her to grow even wetter.
Your arms were outstretched in front of you, your head nearly resting on the bed and you began throwing your hips back to meet Jessie’s thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against hers now accompanied the wet sounds of the strap penetrating you.
Lust started to really take over for Jessie now. Her pace increased even further and she was starting to lose control as she grew even more transfixed on you.
She gripped your hips with her free hand and shifted so she planted a foot next to you, now only on one knee and bringing her hips further forward. This new angle let her generate greater force and leverage each stroke and sink even deeper inside of you.
Sharp, high pitched moans fell from your lips with each renewed thrust and Jessie grunted from both exertion and arousal. You looked incredible bouncing back on her cock like this. A loud clap echoed through the room as she slapped your ass. You let out your most heady moan yet as you threw your head back.
Jessie didn’t waste her opportunity and she reached out and grabbed your hair, tugging your head back as she continue to rail you from behind.
Wild, unhinged moans rose from your throat as Jessie pulled at you and hammered herself inside of you.
“You like that, babe?” She asked through grit teeth. “You like when I make you mine like this?”
“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breathy and high with need. “I love when you make me yours. You fill me and fuck me so good.”
“I love the way you groan for me,” Jessie grunted as she continued her relentless pace. The way you were taking her strap right now, the sounds you were making, the way you moved, everything, had Jessie teetering on the edge without you ever laying a finger on her.
“Fuck it,” she muttered as she dropped the phone onto the bed and released your hair to reach down with both hands and grab your wrists. She pulled your arms behind you and she leaned back again, pulling you with her, lifting you and suspending your upper body off the mattress as she continued to pound into you. Holding you like this anchored her to this spot and she fucked you senseless.
“You’re absolutely perfect. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel you around me. I’d never last.” She said, her voice shuddering with each movement.
“Oh god, Jess,” you moaned. “I wish you could cum inside me.”
“Fuck,” Jessie grunted, feeling a tidal wave of desire crash over her. She released your arms and wrapped her arms around your waist as she sat back on her heels, holding you now in her lap as she rut into you.
You reached down immediately to grip her forearms as you sought contact as she bounced you up and down on her cock. She reached down with one hand and began to rub your clit, drawing a cry out of you.
Jessie let out a light huff and kissed your back.
“Baby girl. You’re lucky I can’t cum inside you.”
You let out a small huff of your own, your head thrown back as you rode her.
“You act like I don’t want to be knocked up by you.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jessie said through gritted teeth as she thrust into you harder. “You’re so sexy. Imagine how good you’d look carrying my baby.”
“Oh God, Jess,” you cried louder this time, your arousal dripping far beyond the strap by now and onto Jessie. “Give it to me. Give me your baby.”
Jessie let out a guttural moan and tilted you both forward, her cradling you until you were on your stomach on the bed, her still deep inside of you.
Before you could register anything further, Jessie pushed herself off of your back, planking over you, just the tip of her strap inside of you now. The next second her hips slammed down into you and she was soon thrusting into you repeatedly with an expert roll of her hips, sending unrelenting waves of pleasure through you with every stroke.
You cried as your orgasm swept over you. You clawed at the bed, your whole body writhing as your climax went through every fibre of you, from your toes to your fingertips, to your head. Jessie didn’t miss a beat and continued to pump into you, driving you further into the mattress.
Your vision was white as you rode the waves and Jessie prolonged your orgasm. As your moans and whimpers ceased, she slowed her strokes until she simply lay on top of you, buried inside.
“I love you so much,” Jessie panted, breath hot against your ear. She shifted her weight so she wasn’t fully on top of you, but made a point to not pull out.
“I love you, too,” you breathed, unable to open your eyes yet as you tried to catch your breath.
You both lay there in silence for several seconds before Jessie suddenly jerked upwards.
“Oh shit,” she said, her head swivelling left and right as she searched the bed. When her eyes landed on her discarded phone she carefully lifted herself out and off of you before she snatched it up. “Oh fuck,” she laughed, seeing it was still recording and she quickly tapped the button again to stop.
You managed to lift your head to peer over at her curiously. Your eyebrows lifted as the realization hit you.
“Oh my god. I forgot,” you told her, a dazed smile forming on your face.
“I did for a moment, too,” Jessie laughed. She glanced at you as she held the phone tentatively in her hand. “I’m afraid to play it.”
She hit play on a random part of the video anyway and the room immediately filled with moaning, heavy breathing and other lewd sounds. She immediately went beet red and turned it off as she looked at you. You stared at each other wordlessly for a second before both dissolving into laughter.
“Okay.” Jessie eventually said, face still radiating heat. “I’m going to have to be extra sure to never ever open this video unless I have earbuds in.”
You gave her a series of exaggerated nods. “And double check what your Bluetooth is connected to.” Jessie raised her eyebrows even higher.
“That said,” she went on. “You look fucking stunning.”
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#woso x reader#woso imagine#canwnt x reader#smut fic#lesbian breeding#woso smut
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I miss professor reichsgraf
GN! Bad Student Reader x Professor OC!
Minors DNI
CW: GN! Reader, reader referred to as they/them, no body descriptions for reader, lots of swearing tbh lol, reader is RUDE (just because they’re sleepy! we still stan🥰) spanking, pet names for reader(good kitten, darling), Sub!Reader, reader has hair(not described just enough to grab), fingering (not specified which hole dw), nipple play, crying reader, tetro?, overstim, dubcon(no proper safeword), sado maso, p in hole, not proofread.
(IDK i hope it turned out okay, it doesn’t seem the way i want it, but i can’t tell rn if it’s just me T.T)
“You are, quite possibly the worst student i’ve ever had the misfortune of teaching.”
You mock him on the phone with your bestie.
“Stupid ass over qualified teacher.”
“Fur reaaaalll. my gods, what an asshole!” they respond.
“It’s too bad he’s so hot. What a waste.” You resume what you were doing and hold the phone between your ear and shoulder.
“I would tap, i wonder if he’s into that like teacher/student play…” they trail off.
“Ew. please don’t fantasize about my dickwad professor. At least with me around,” You feign gagging.
The next day in class you’re slouching, hoping to the gods that he just forgets you exist so that you can try and catch up on your assignments… But Fuck it’s so hard! You don’t have time for school work when you’re home, because you’re usually sleeping, after your two jobs. And all these pompous professors do is give homework!!! ALL OF THEM.
It’s the end of the ninety minute mark and you, along with everyone else, starts packing your things.
“Y/L/N. Stay behind a minute.” Professor Reichsgraf sighs, and tosses an empty cup into the trash can.
“Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg!” You groan, thankfully the room is loud enough that he might not of even—
“Gods, you’d swear I told you that you’re going to jail,” He laughs. He’s sat behind the desk a little slouched like normal, head in a hand, elbow on a stack of papers (probably so it’s more comfortable) you tsk out loud at your thoughts, before pretending to yawn.
What a class A assho-
“Have a seat,” he asks.
“This will take that long??” You sigh out frustratedly.
“Gods, you young peop—”
“Oh don’t you ‘young people these days’ Me, mister!”
“It’s Doctor.”
“Oooo big dif. Fuck off” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.
He rolls his own, “Just sit.”
With a *plop*! into the seat, you do.
The professor stands, his hand lazily traces a knot in his desk as he rounds the table and approaches you slowly. “I don’t usually do this…”
“Woah, Um isn’t there like a rule against—”
“What!?” He furrows his brow then massages it quickly between his finger and thumb. “No, i’m offering to tutor you,” He sighs in annoyance.
“Oh really?” You would still really like to at least pass… “Okay fine.”
“What? really? no deals needed?” He looks you over.
shrugging, you say, “I mean what are you offering?”
“Nope, it’s a done deal, you already signed the dotted line crossed your t’s and all that.” He steps ever closer, and leans on the table you’re sat at.
“When do we start?”
~
You’ve had a few sessions with your professor but nothing seems to be working, the information just isn’t sticking until…
“Bend over.” Reichsgraf growls, head in his hand in frustration.
“Excuse me?” Your brows raise in shock.
“Bend over my knee, right now. You aren’t learning this way.”
You think at first he’s lying. Just trying to make you uncomfortable or something, maybe a bee flew into his coffee this morning so he’s taking it out on you. You don’t know. But you do it. You get down, lay over his lap and wait.
His hand massages your rump, “Now what’s the answer to number five?”
“A?”
A hand comes down onto your flesh with a *Smack!*
“Ow!” You yelp! “What the fuck!?”
“What is the answer to number five? Don’t just guess.”
“Is it not A?” You ask, it looks right… Right?
*SMACK!”
“OW!!” You yelp again, louder this time, it stings so much more the second time!
“You know the answer.”
“C!” You suddenly remember something he said about it yesterday, and he’s right, you did know the answer!
“Good job, I’m impressed.” He isn’t lying, he really is. Only two spanks on the first time? Maybe he had been hoping for more though, to be honest.
It’s a unique way to have to learn like this, but with you, he’s happy to oblige. All the time spent being frustrated that you couldn’t commit even the simplest knowledge to memory, he can finally get rid of…
“Okay now six.”
“Do we have to do the whole assignment like this?”
“Yes. Six.”
You shout, “A!”
*Smack!*
“Shit! I mean B!” You wince.
“You guessed again. Read the answer, and tell me why it’s correct.”
“Do i have to? I got it right that time.”
Suddenly the hand on your rear moves to your clothed sex, he presses down hard and trails along the divide. A gnawing heat starts to grow in your lower half quickly.
“Hey! wait-!”
“We don’t have the time. what is the answer to seven?”
“D!”
“Good Kitten,” His baritone seems even deeper somehow, as he rubs you harder, your jeans are getting too hot to bare. “We need these off.” He tugs on your back belt loop.
“Yeah…” You shock yourself when you agree so readily. You stand to unbutton them and get them off, but he slaps your hands away and takes your pants off for you.
Your body gets thrown around until your bent over the desk and the wood’s digging into your hip bones.
“Professor-!”
A growl escapes his throat. his hair is messier than usual when you turn back to look, before he grabs yours and steers you forward.
His fingers enter you first, already setting a fast pace, he curls them and scissors them; all while pistoning so fast you feel like you’re already teetering on the edge. “Such a good kitten, you’re doing so good for me,” He hums deeply in his throat.
You whine and wriggle, until he tenses his grip in your hair and on your hip. His hand fans out over your skin and gropes you the entire way up to your chest, pressing a traveling dent into your stomach and over your ribs. Your brows peak, and your mouth hangs open.
“Seven.”
“SERIOUSLY???” You stomp, way to take you out of it.
*SLAP!* Your ass was sore from the earlier abuse, to be slapped now stings so brutally!!!
“F-fuck!!” You shake.
“Seven. Now.” His hand is raised and prepped to hit you again.
You shimmy and jump, “No, no more please!!”
*SLAP!*
“AHH!” You screech! “ummm,” You read the question rapidly through bleary eyes, “D! D! It’s D!!!” You shout and writhe in his grasp.
“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do this,” He rubs something cooling on your ass cheek and it feels so much better!
“Oh thank you thank you oh my gods.” you let out so much air you feel dizzy. His cock starts to rub against you, making your dizzy spell last longer. it’s so hot and hard and.. LONG! Holy shit it’s so long! You’re gonna be speared to death on that thing! You drool at the anticipation! “Fuck me.” You say it in a long groan as an expression but also mean it very much.
“You deserve it, you’ve been doing so good,” Holy shit, his words strike some heavenly chord that opens your pearly gates wide for him, and he enters without resistance, taking his time to really appreciate your interior.
“Holy shit!” You can’t help the obscenities, they just fall from your lips naturally, you’re so surprised at all of this, at yourself for willingly doing it, at your hot teacher for wanting you in the first place, at so many things…. Most of all at how HOT his dick is like molten lava inside you and it feels fucking DIVINE.
“You’re such a good kitten,” He rubs you as you take his length.
His movements are calculated, every single one. No matter how fast they hit your spots like a master martial artist targeting pressure points. You aren’t getting a break from his assaults every strike is a critical blow. Even when he slows down his spongey head sweetly kisses those spots igniting obscene fires that don’t have time to burn out before being reignited fully.
You’re getting close, so painfully close to a volcanic eruption, your bubbling!
“Cum for me, darling” He leans down over your back, to whisper into your ear, his voice gravely and so low.
“AHH!!!” You scream out and your whole body goes rigid and convulses, his own cum shoots inside you and you take all of it.
“So good for me, you took me so well, darling…” His eyes practically have hearts in them.
#cookie speaks#my oc#yandere#oc x reader#oc x you#yandere x reader#yandere x you#my fic#tw yandere#dead dove do not eat#professor oc#reader x yandere professor#oc professor reichsgraf#yandere professor x you#professor x you#yandere professor#professor x reader#x oc#x reader#x you#gn reader x yandere#gn reader#gn reader x oc#gn!reader#yandere oc#yandere male
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i hate my parents for deciding to have a kid at 20, and i genuinely love my younger siblings more than life itself, but sometimes i hate my parents for having them and forcing me into the role of third parent, and i hate my parents for treating me like a problem child and i hate my parents for treating me like i’m some kind of threat to their family unit because i wanted to die in high school and i hate my parents for loving my siblings more than they love me and i hate my parents for being happier after i moved out and becoming this perfect little adorable millennial nuclear family with their beautiful kids and their beautiful pets and their beautiful house where my old bedroom became my mother’s craft room less than a week after i moved out, and i hate her for treating me like i’m less than, just because i’m the one child that isn’t her flesh and blood and i hate her i hate her i hate her and i want to scream in her face and tell her how much she ruined my youth but it’s not like she was fucking alone in that, was she? she wasn’t the first, not by a long shot, but she certainly did her fucking number on me. fucking fuck.
#tw sui ment#vent#family vent#i love my siblings and i would die for them without hesitation but i do sometimes think it’d be better if none of us had been born#and i know that’s fucked up and selfish but god damn it my parents are deeply broken#and they brought three kids into this world and so far 1/3 is fucked up and the other two are still cooking#and i hope i’ve done enough i hope i’ve fucking done enough#i hope me being the guinea pig child saves my siblings from hell#i hope me being the problem child makes my siblings seem like smooth sailing#i hope all of my suffering is not in vain#probably gonna delete this later
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19.11.23, sunday
I listened to Succession soundtrack a lot today and had about the most productive day I’ve had in so so long
things done today:
7h of coding
went to my sister’s kid’s birthday party (mario theme 🍄)
#even tho during the first 4 hours it was me slowly realizing that I had configured/set up my one project wrong somehow#and I’m so far gone with it now that idk how to rly fix it other than starting again and trying to speedrun all I’ve done so far#aka the 50hours I’ve spent on it#but i’m hoping I’ll get it to function by just fucking around with adding some files & paths manually (i doubt that’ll work)#that’s a big yikes that I would not have time for#but I’ve done enough to get a grade out of that course but rn it’d be 3/5 and I want 5/5 bc it’s an easy course to get that from#and god knows I need to do everything in my power to raise my gpa#studyblr#bookblr#booklr#aesthetic#books#study#reading#read#book#dark academia#chaotic academia#november 2023#2023
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i hope you don’t mind me not participating in sunday six for so long and not updating my fic... i’m having a bit rough time handling my life irl right now
#meaning i’m having the worst start of the year ever#i’m EXHAUSTED fucking exhausted from my living situation and it doesn’t seem to get better any time soon#naturally i don’t have it in me to write because i don’t have enough time to relax. it’s been three fucking weeks.#i just don’t know even my body gives up from this stress and not like something terrible is happening#it’s extremely upsetting also considering that i love writing and it’s the only activity that makes sense to me#and always has been like that it’s in my core#and i. can’t do it. i can’t. i have no willpower or strength and it’s not writer’s block i’m just SO TIRED ALL THE TIME#therapy and years of medication mean nothing at this fucking point. props to me for not killing myself tho. well done 👍#sorry for ranting i am so frustrated that i can scream. i have actually. didn’t help.#well ahem i hope you understand 🙏 i feel bad that i’ve promised the chapter a long time ago and NOT TO BE THAT AO3 AUTHOR but#i really wanted to keep my promise. fuck me i guess#putting letters together one word at a time
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hey guys! been a little while, but i just wanted to give you a small update on my plans for this blog.
ultimately i think i probably am going to keep posting here? but it’s not because i’m over the situation or changed my mind on anything. i still hate dream, i still think what he did was a disgusting abuse of power, and i still think he needs to lose his platform. but, the dsmp is fiction, and it’s not his. don’t get me wrong, my relationship to it has definitely changed as a result of all this, but (at least for now) i feel alright occasionally using my blog to just reminisce about the story he was only one collaborator on. it meant a lot to me for two years, and all the meanings i gave it were mine. i do view my relationship to the fiction as separate from whatever the creators wanted from me, and i’ve never engaged in a way dream could profit from.
this isn’t a dissertation of my full thoughts, and i worry even this might be worded poorly or not make sense, but i’m just trying to get out an overview and a small disclaimer— i might still post here, but i don’t want it to be misconstrued as support for dream. i fucking hate the guy. and if you’re continuing to support him, then unfollow me. thank you
#dream situation#i’ll probably also start posting about other interests! which i’ve kind of always done but you might see more of that#but yeah. this is more or less the plan at least for now#again this isn’t a good explanation of my full thoughts#i don’t think i could put them all on paper if i tried#but i hope it makes sense? and gives a good enough general idea of where i’m at re: this blog#i never watched any of dreams videos or streams or kept up with his twitter. he’s never gotten a view or a cent from me#and he never fucking will!#but i’ve already consumed the story and i’ve already given it a different life in my head. feels like. if that makes any sense#so i feel like continuing to post about ctommy and cwilbur and cquackity and all the things they’ve come to mean to me#it’s not supporting him. they’re fictional characters and not even his characters.#maybe i’ll add a pinned. too. or something. just to disclaimer. idk#we’ll figure things out as we go
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i am forever thankful that in tlk religions and beliefs seriously influence actions and views of the characters, but all seemingly mystical and supernatural things have logical explanations, making the world grounded in reality and viewing experience a lot less confusing
that said, i am a complete hoe for some scary supernatural religious horror imagery, so yeah
#my art#my doodles#is this even anything???#content that caters specifically to myself and literally no one else#this is the most ‘purely vibes’ shit i’ve done#enjoyed it a lot#listen everyone knows you’re not supposed to have a favourite child#but alfred is absolutely god’s most favourite beloved little boy#he is kept alive through all the horrors just to suffer#that’s love#poor traumatised uhtred who was passing by the chapel at the most unfortunate moment#starts to shake and blanches every time some dane launches into their ‘weak saxons and their weak christian god’ speech#anyway#there’s quite a lot of stuff here and i hope it’s overwhelming in good way (i want to look at the details and find those fucking barely#visible angel wings) and not in a bad way (christ why so many colors!?!eyes#!?!)#sorry for the slight vikings drag there#i’ve seen like three and a half seasons years ago#but that was enough to get annoyed by the constant ‘are religions and supernatural things actually something that happens and has#consequences or what???!’ question#i don’t mind that in my media#obviously#i just need to know the rules of the world you are building#ugh anyway#still miss athelstan though he was an interesting character to follow#and just a sweet little boy which is always a plus#the last kingdom#tlk#tlk alfred
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I forget how much I hate the taste of vodka but the whipped cream vodka is so much better my god
#make a drink sweet enough that you can’t taste it when it’s in ur mouth and then all u get is the whipped cream vodka in the burn#makes drinks more tolerable#also this is the fastest I think I’ve ever chugged an alcoholic drink#we are gonna get fucked up tonight bc we have daddy issues and fought with our mom this morning slayyy#smoked a cigarette at the lake now getting fucked up in my room while home alone#life is so good and it’s all bullshit forever#literally we could all die and it doesn’t matter and life is weird and crazy and I am happy it sucks and I am so fucking thrilled to be aliv#at all#life is good regardless of death but I wish death would just like wait patiently for my family#dad I miss u I hope you had a good four twenty where ever you ended up. im sorry moms acting like this. I hope my brothers okay at school.#I hope he’s having a good time and isn’t completely overwhelmed with everything. I was right and apparently he’s gonna come home after grad#uation and im excited to have him home again but my mothers all upset. I know it sucks that you’re dead but it’s nice knowing in a weird way#that you’re the reason me and hunter got close again. so thanks I guess for that. and smoking made me and mom grow closer. idk. you’ve done#a lot for us and most of it had to do with weed. today hurt worse than my birthday. or the six month anniversary. today sucked. and no one#else seemed to be torn apart by it and it made me feel like I was going crazy and no one could even tell#you would’ve noticed if I was acting different. I love you. wherever you are I still love you. and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a bitch.#and I wish I took better care of you. but you were my father I wasn’t supposed to take care of you. you should’ve been there for me. we shou#have been there for mom and hunter and your parents and I’ve been thinking a lot about grammie actually. I don’t know how I feel. thinking#about her makes me cry now. I don’t have the heart to make her cry talking about my childhood but I miss her. and I miss being young. I miss#you coming to my Father’s Day dance recitals and coming back from bike week in Laconia and bringing me flowers always wearing your grey#Harley Davidson jacket and you’d have flowers in your arms and you’d be bored but so proud and you’d hug me and you’d smell like weed and#your beard was always scratchy when you’d hug me and I just miss you a lot. I miss you and I fucking hate you for it fuck.#note to self. don’t be pmsing and then get drinking and smoking and thinking of your dead father. you will cry
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.
#we had a discord meeting with friends and thing is. i told everyone today that i got a soul crushing diagnosis#literally never cry to my friends but bawled my eyes out on a#whatre they called. voice message? yeah and one of my friends sent an empathetic text back in the group chat#one friend called and the other texted too but then in the discord meeting the first friend was really quiet most of the time and i was#glad to be thinking about something else than my stuff and be just chit chatting; when second friend asked the first if everything was okay#and ? she had the gall to say really angrily that no it isn’t and she has been crying like crazy all day because she feels like she isn’t#enough and does everything wrong#all the time. now this is not a new convo. we’ve talked about this vountless times and yeah she’s depressed clearly but doesn’t want to#admit it and i’ve told her (after comforting her many times) that she should really go talk to someone about it because if she just keeps#crying go us we’re just gonna go in circles and she isn’t gonna feel any better. like i’ve said everything that i possibly could to make#her feel better. and she has the GALL to say she’s been crying her eyes out when she KNOWS i literally heard i’m gonna lose feeling and#motoric skills in my hands and feet. and nothing can be done about it. and i for once showed how awful that felt.#i quickly told her that i hope the feeling passes because it’s baseless and she’s enough and worthy and really dear to all of us and then i#went to the toiler for a short while. and thought like. why couldn’t i judt once have said like. i’ve been crying about other things#altogether like hinting to the fact that that wasn’t appropriate. because she’s not gonna change. i should’ve said it for once because the#circle is just gonna continue. like. fuck#and at the same time i understand i really do but i don’t think however miserable i was that i couldn’t put my own worries aside at least#for the day. like TODAY i found out today . so if she’s miserable in her relationship (which i originally said was a bad ideaaaa) and it#makes her feel overall bad#. just!!!!! ahhhh. keep it to yourself for today. like i could’ve talked about my problems but i didn’t. so#v.personal#if you read this sorry sldntbtb#but also thank you. i’m not in a good place myself and i feel awkward and i know it can be taxing to read other people’s personal stuff on#your dash so if you did read this thank you
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me internally: how can someone eat rice SO angrily
my father immediately not being able to hold it in any longer: you SERIOUSLY. need to consider that job opportunity. You’re never going to be able to support yourself [ a freudian pause ] working at a craft store
#tw abuseive dad shit just itgnore or don’t whatever#he then talked at me for a few minutes in front of our family and then my mom was like WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE YOURE GOING TO CRY#and I just shook my head and was like no it’s fine and then picked at my food cuz wow suddenly not hungry#and then I just sat there silently and didn’t eat bc I know from previous experience I will get screamed at for going to my room early#and then she tried AGAIN#fuck like I’m trying to keep it together so your abusive husband doesn’t yell at me for having emotions#I’m so fucking tired of him#I’m so fucking tired of noting I do ever being good enough#I have never I will never be enough for him#no matter what I do he fucking hates me and I don’t fucking understand#when he finished his tangeant about how I’m not enough not good enough once I was visibly upset he was visibly happier#which was probably the first time I’ve ever visibly noticed it and for some reason I’m floored#I’m so fucking tiered#camshrieksintothevoid#who wants to just fucking kill me im fucking done#now my stomach hurts and I wasn’t to fucking die thank u father hope u sleep like a fucking baby im sure u will#it’s 6:30 maybe I’ll just fucking go to bed#I was having such a good day too fuck#also like JUST SAY IT WITH YOUR WHOLE FUCKING CHEST#IF YOU THINK IM A DISAPPOJNTMENT FUCKING SAY IT LOOK ME IN THE EYSZ U FUCKING PUSSY#fuck whatever idc#I don’t fucking care
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Might regret saying this & potentially jinxing it but I don’t feel jetlagged. I was tired yesterday but now I’m absolutely fine. I’m literally sleeping normally. I’m fine
#this is completely fucking unprecedented. every other time i’ve flown back from the usa (this is my fourth time) i have been miserable#the first time was the worst. i fell asleep while getting my eyebrows done and woke up when she pulled off the wax strip#second time i think i was mostly okay because i knew what to expect but it was still pretty rough#third time was awful. i fell asleep in the taxi on the way back from the airport and managed to stay awake until nighttime#but then i fell asleep for 15 hours and missed the wimbledon match i’d been hoping to watch the following morning#(wimbledon is my superbowl so it really was adding insult to injury. but yeah i literally slept from 10:30pm to 1:50pm. insane)#but THIS time?? the first night back i got 8 hours sleep and last night i got 7 hours but i’m literally fine#i mean yeah i’m a little tired but not enough to actually nap. i tried to nap yesterday afternoon and couldn’t. it was so weird#every other time i’ve been jetlagged i was passing out randomly in the afternoon. it was so weird#i will say i do seem to be super hungry all the time but i think that’s because i got too used to american portion sizes#but anyway. uh. if you need me i’m probably going to fall asleep now that i’ve jinxed it#‘this jetlag ain’t shit—‘ *passes out*#personal
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i will not panic abt my exams
#it will be fine actually#I’m stressed bc they’re in. a month now like a month from today and I’ll be done#but that just means I have a whole month to be making notes I can do a lot in a month#I’m going home on Friday which is stressing me out but it’s just one week I’ll go Friday and leave Saturday/Sunday#and if I can do a handful of lectures while I’m at home that’ll be a useful step no matter what#i can probably focus on like molecular ones which are easier to structure bc I just need to pull out the mechanisms#tomorrow I just gotta read up on two topics really and then I can write the dumb mock exam which I won’t be able to do at home bc its 4 hour#I hate that we have to do that especially bc it’s got shit evil questions but whatever#and I can’t feel bad abt being slow to get back into this bc im an animal with a body and it takes a while to get back into Anything#and I’m worried abt the exam yes bc of how it went last year when I was unprepared but 1) I won’t be THAT degree of unprepared this year#2) it is unlikely that i get as insanely unlucky as I did last year#fucking hell I just. don’t think I’m made for this kinda system I can’t make myself work in it#every single term of my degree so far I’ve been fighting to keep up with everything and had no time to properly prepare for the exams#and then scraped it by working off a baseline level of being good at putting ideas together quickly and strategically working last minute#on whatever will give me the best shot at getting what I need but that’s not possible in these two exams bc I have over 100 lectures to know#I can’t do 100 lectures in a month. it’s just not possible but what I can probably do is summarise some important bits for like half of them#I think I’m bad at the whole sustained effort on a big task over a long period of time#bc this is so huge that there’s no way for me to see progress or move on to anything new bc it’s just. a stack of 100 lectures to deal with#I HOPE I’m better at dealing with project next year bc i think it’ll be more task based#and like I can watch the lectures the first time round bc there’s a set thing to do and an end point#I have genuinely no idea how to approach this in a way that will be useful achievable AND get enough done within the time I have#anyway I can’t stress abt it now bc I have to go to the shop and then home to cook. so#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#luke.txt
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🩸BroodingBitch Follow
No one talks about how much of a micro aggression it is to carry around sharp pieces of wood. Like yr LITERALLY basically saying Vampires should die
🫀DarknessDecayed Follow
lmao the leeches are saying that pencils are problematic
🩸BroodingBitch Follow
It’s not surprising that a bloodbag would come on my post and call us l**ches, I hope a Vampire drains you dry
🫀DarknessDecayed Follow
It’s not surprising that a toothy bastard would immediately jump to death threats, step in a sunbeam
🐺Awoooooo Follow
Anyone in this thread smoke weed
🧛♀️SapphicSucker Follow
The girls are fightingggggg
🩸BroodingBitch Follow
Yeah just make jokes of actual oppression. And fyi, pencils are also covered under “sharp piece of wood” unless they’re mechanical. Sad to see a fellow vampire jump in on the side of the slayers
🌊OceaniaOracle Follow
What the fuck is happening in the vampire community
🦐fish-out-of-water Follow
i’m so happy mermaids have to be on land to post. Imagine having access to the worst takes you’ve ever seen all the time
🌺village-idiot Follow
I mean i’ve lost a vampire friend to a toothpick so i kind of agree with OP, and mermaids are being kind of insensitive with this post. I can only imagine ops ask box 😕
🧛♀️SapphicSucker Follow
hey guys I just checked OPs blog and they’re not even a vampire, using an archive I found a post they made about getting their teeth filed to resemble fangs.
🩸BroodingBitch Follow
Hey guys SapphicSucker literally supports werewolves
🧛♀️SapphicSucker Follow
YOURE NOT EVEN A VAMPIRE YOU HAVE NO STAKE IN THAT BEEF (btw my gf is a werewolf and she only bites when I ask, so)
🩸 BroodingBitch Follow
NOW YOURE TRYING TO STAKE ME ON MY OWN POSTS???
⚰️grandpa-gilf-fucker Follow
pack it up everyone we’re done here, enough Tumblr for the day
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more than enough | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
📍 Miami
liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others
landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!
See 997,729 other comments
fan you can tell lando runs his own social media...
↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden
oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved!
♥️ landonorris
↳ landonorris you next osc!!!
maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner!
♥️ landonorris
mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart)
♥️ landonorris
fan WHERE IS Y/N??????
↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him
fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week
fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends
liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others
f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.
fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????
fan i'm gonna dox him
↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you
fan i have a knife.
fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???
fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there
↳ fan we hate insecure men
fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear
It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock.
Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips.
He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock.
The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on.
When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”.
–
To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed.
Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence.
Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night.
God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat.
And maybe he was.
If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you.
Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset.
He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”
He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”
The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration.
–
Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking.
The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life.
Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms.
As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically.
Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you.
Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins.
He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down.
You were crying. And he had no idea why.
Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day.
Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him.
You’d locked the door.
In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever.
“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird.
The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”
He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends.
He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”
More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”
He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”
“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said.
“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”
He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”
He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point.
Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”
Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back.
He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”
Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando.
He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them.
This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption.
The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”
You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”
He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”
Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice.
You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest.
Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”
He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough.
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Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.
It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.
But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.
Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.
And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.
There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.
He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.
Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.
“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.
“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”
Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.
“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”
A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.
“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”
Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.
“Now is best.”
Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”
Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.
The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.
Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.
“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”
He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.
“What’s going on?”
Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.
“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”
To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”
Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.
Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.
“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.
Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.
“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”
There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.
“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”
The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.
Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”
Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”
Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.
“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.
“…Kissing.”
Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?
He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.
“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”
Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.
“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”
Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.
“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”
Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.
“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”
A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.
He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.
The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.
“Eddie—” He starts.
“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”
Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.
There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”
Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.
“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.
He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”
Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.
He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.
“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”
Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”
Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.
“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.
Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.
Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.
He can’t find one single ounce of regret.
next part.
#gay ppl in my phone…. take this humble offering to tide u over between fics#everything has become long#i cannot help it#every idea is like 5k+ words#this is me trying to combat it#ruby writes steddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#pre steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#uhhhh that’s all folks#this is indeed the trope of steve telling the police they were fucking for their alibi lmao#10 points if u can guess which line is from the hunger games!#that’s what inspired this
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