#ALSO SORRY WHAT IS THAT LONGEST TAG

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[buwheal]

I wanna give him a blanket. Can it maybe just materialize outta nowhere?

(I know fabric wrinkles suck to draw. You don't gotta 😵)

[moeblob]

You just made me realize for the first time since I've been drawing these guys. The person I have known the longest irl (met him in fourth grade and am still in touch with him) is a Scorpio. Holy moly.

[deadduvznap]

jayhoon having angry sex. and blood. - (your favorite) omega anon

this has been sitting in my drafts since i got it.

im a firm believer that jay doms hoon in every situation (including lore) and you cant convince me otherwise now listen okay hear me out its a situation where like prob after a concert or no during it lets say sunghoon is doing sm fanservice w the other members and jay gets mad and i mean PISSED at sunghoon and sunghoon knows but he cant do anything abt it he just keeps doing all that fan service w the other members so jay is PISSED and on the way to the hotel they are in different vans or wtv BUT. they share a room and hoon knows jays pissed so he begs the other boys to switch but they are all like nah man you did this to urself so hes like ah fuck so he finally goes into the room and he sneaks into the shower and when hes out jay is just sitting on the bed looking angry with a towel around his neck and waist and sunghoon just silently goes to sit on his bed before bed and he faces the other direction and jay is facing opposite of him so they r back to back and jay finally talks and hes like im mad at you hoon and hoon is like i know im sorry and jays like sorry isnt good enough blah blah blah hoons like ill give you apology head :( and jays like im still so mad at you but i cant turn down head so jay is sitting on the bed he forces hoon to the floor and hoon starts to go down on his dick and jay is PISSED hes sitting there towelless arms crossed his jaw clenched in anger sunghoon between his legs hes staring at hoon his eye twitching and hes like if you dont hurry the fuck up ill make you hurry and hoon knows how jay gets when hes angry and he doesnt want his head bashed in so hes getting to buisness he gathers the spit thats in his mouth and he opens his mouth and lets it drip (more like waterfall) onto jays cock, he then purses his lips and wraps them around the head of jays cock and he sucks HARD and jay jumps a bit cus he wasnt expecting it and it kinda hurt so he smacks hoon lightly, jokingly, on the head and goes what the fuck are you doing and hoon doesnt reply he just shoves his head down as far as it can go as fast as possible and jay folds over and chokes for a second before hoon comes back up and goes back down again and oh yeah is it too late to mention hoon doest have a gag reflex ? anyways jay is folded over his hand in hoons hair and hoon is bobbing his head up and down contemplating biting jays dick off, just because, but he decides against it and keeps going and before jays about to cum he pulls sunghoons head off his dick, quite hard actually and sunghoons is startled at the pain and the yank and he feels like his hair is about to get ripped off and jay is holding his hair in a TIGHT grip and he drags him on to the twin sized bed and sunghoon lets out cries of pain as he stands up hunched over at the hight jays hand is grabbing him and he has one hand gripping jays wrist and the other trying to push him away and his towel falls off and hes like what the fuck are you doing ??? let go of me ?? and jay is like shut the fuck up you deserve this and you know it and now sunghoon is getting angry because even though hes a sub and a bottom he doesnt like being yanked around like this and jay pushes him onto the bed and sunghoon is fucking seething hes naked and his dick is half hard and his head hurts but he cant do anything because if he tries to leave jays is gonna bash his head into a wall and he doesnt want that so jay flips him over onto his tummy and lifts his ass in the air and hes pretty bent in half becuse hes rlly flexible and sunghoon is really uncomfortable in that position but jay doesnt care he just wants to fuck sunghoon so hard he forgets about the other members and so he can forget his anger and not kill someone or break smth so he grabs the lotion thats sitting on the side table he used after he showered and he lubes up his dick and his fingers and shoves two of them in sunghoon pretty hard and hoon freaks out because it hurts and jay is like shut the actual fuck up i dont want to hear it right now and he sticks his dick in sunghoon and hoon shreiks in pain into the pillow he feels like

hes getting ripped open, the lotion isnt doing much at all for lube he feels the lotion dry up quickly and he feels like his insides are ripping open and he starts to cry and jay doesnt give a fuck hes using the blood dripping from hoons hole to lube up more but that doesnt do anything to help and jay lets out an annoyed groan and rolls his head back hes annoyed at sunghoon for crying so loudly and that the "lube" isnt working and he remembers what happened and now hes even angrier and he pulls out and walks over to his bag for a second and sunghoon relaxes his body for a second and he can see the blood starting to drip down his inner thigh before it quickly congeals and sticks to his skin and he sees the drops of blood on the sheets and he feels like hes gonna cry again and jay comes back and grabs his arm and flips him over and he almost falls off the side of the bed when jay yanks him back over to the middle and sunghoon cant do anything but be limp and space out and jay starts to lube himself and sunghoon up before he sticks his dick back in sunghoons hole again and sunghoon starts to cry as he lays against the bed and jay kind of feels bad but hes still pissed at him so he tosses his empathy into his mind vault and starts fucking the poor boy again and sunghoons body is limp as jay knocks into him hes flailing around as his vision is blurry and hes staring at jays face and he starts getting mad again he shouldve bitten this fuckers dick off when he had the chance and jay leans over him and sunghoon just sinks his teeth into jays... wherever it is as hard as possible and jay grunts and pushes sunghoons face away but sunghoon had already pierced the skin and the blood was starting to form little beads in the wound on his shoulder

[aheathen-conceivably]

Ok so I read the post on your thoughts on Gio and the American Dream and I hate to say it … as an immigrant, I understand him.

I also come from a culture where women tend to their male partner's needs and I don't believe he wants to turn Jo into a subservient wife. He fell in love with a lively, free, and wild Jo and loves that aspect of her.

At the end of the day she loves him too so why would she leave? I understand she doesn't like to be dependent of him but where else would she go? There are no parties or glamour, which was her whole thing, anymore. At least the farm offers stability in the economic crisis.

Point is, I understand Gio as an immigrant, but don't understand Jo as a woman.

BABES! We’ve got another one…

(As in me being touched and having no other means to say how much I love y’all takes other than to give them a standing ovation in GIF form).

But you know…there’s a whole lot to break down here, friend, especially about Jo. I think you know what that means! Under the cut we go….

First and foremost, I very much appreciate you saying you understand that aspect of Gio. I did in part write him as a commentary on the immigrant experience in America (filtered through his own personality/character of course), and so to know that is relatable means a lot to me. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to tell y’all his journey is far from over, and you can already see the cracks in his outlook beginning to form. Whenever Jo is depressed he says this quite vividly:

Because you are very, very correct. This isn’t about molding Jo into some subservient housewife, or even eroding those exact qualities that he loves in her. This is about Gio attempting to square what he’s been taught/believes will bring his life happiness and meaning with his own experience and emotions. It’s about the myth of the American dream and the perfect housewife and the very real struggle of those things existing as actual, lived realities.

Because at the root of it, Gio is amalgamating an understanding of his own family unit and what he knows he doesn’t want in this country. He has seen another methods of “making it” in America, and so he thinks if only he can make the “right” choices, he can avoid that, and become the respected and happy man that he wants to be.

Now onto Jo, boy oh boy, Jo….

I think one of the core misunderstandings here is that Jo wants stability. This is kind of the crux built into her desire for control and her never-ending failure to achieve it. She wants to control her surroundings, to make sure nothing and no one can hurt her, but she also wants to feel in a way that is hard to find in a stable, heavily domesticated life. On the flip side, despite whatever imaginary dream Gio has, he’s the same way. They both want a life filled with excitement and new experiences, new people and rushes of emotions. This is one of the ways they differ heavily from Antoine and Zelda.

Now on one level, this is simply the way Josephine is. She’s high energy, fun loving, and insatiable. But on a deeper level, this is tied into her experiences not only as a woman, but as a daughter. She has a brief moment of clarity in that last post where she realizes:

Now I have chosen not to go too in-depth on Josephine’s trauma, but you can see her lay out the course of events here and also her deep hesitation to any of it here. Josephine is still only a teenager in that second post. Her mother not only told her things like that (“this is the weight that prejudice and expectation have placed upon us”) but also “what do you want to be then? Some glorified maid to a man?” (Which, frankly, I can write another Ted Talk about the juxtaposition here, but I think ya'll can pull some threads).

So when you see Josephine’s struggle with control, this is heavily rooted in bodily autonomy. Now all things considered, Josephine has managed to make great strides toward reclaiming this and reasserting not only her sexuality, but also her sense of self in her body. Gio knows this. We see him recognize and respect it quite clearly in that last post. He’s been part of that process for her, and that only adds another element of love, trust, and safety between them.

But on a fundamental level, neither Gio nor Josephine has made the connection between that trauma, her own personality, and why she hates her life now so much:

Here’s the issue right now: Josephine doesn’t feel like she’s living her own life. We have seen how she would like to live in the 20s not just in the parties and glamour, but when she was managing bands. She wants to be fulfilled professionally, through helping people/places she believes in and bettering her own life by bettering theirs. That’s how she gets her joy, and that’s what she would chose to do if given the chance.

And right now, she does not feel like she gets to chose. You’re correct in that part of that is coming from the current economic situation. Again, she sees that herself here. She knows what demons are waiting outside her window, and how easily poverty can make them rearise. That only makes it worse. It doesn’t make the smell of bread (domestic security) any better or more comforting. It makes it bitter, because she didn’t chose it. She was backed into a corner by circumstance (and, as she can sense, by the choices men made for her without telling her), and now she feels like she can’t say no. That’s her ultimate trigger.

Now whether or not that loss of control is simply perceived, or should be offset by how “lucky” she is to be in a stable position in such precarious economic times, we might all have different options on. Even more, I’m sure each of us would answer differently for ourselves in that situation. I know I would. But for Josephine? Not only is this a life she will never find joy in, because even without her trauma, she is an ambitious, restless, and outgoing person with different goals for herself; but that added memory and pain makes her reaction to it all the more volatile.

Perhaps most importantly, Jo feels as though her life is being controlled again, whether by Gio, the reality of the world outside her window, or by her own guilt/love that makes her feel beholden to the people around her (just like it did to her mother). Because you’re right, she does love him. She wouldn’t leave because she doesn’t. If she leaves now, it would leave because she panicked, because she feels like she’s lost all the autonomy she worked so hard to regain and she’ll never feel the fulfillment she felt when she was successfully independent ever again. That’s the element I hope we can understand, even if it’s not what we would do.

[foulfeast]

Ohhhh i now remember why i got shy about talking abt ocs

24/7 fear that someone will tell me my ideas are cliche/stupid/bad in some other and it will hurt more bc these are my own creations and not just fun and play

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

The diffriders are so fucking fascinating to me specifically flare trooper dumjid bc like. You take a dragon mercenary who has seen war and has actively watched many comrades die. His whole thing is that he’s a perfect guard and thus the only one who survived, leading to a fucked up conception of himself as above death. And then you have him possess the body of some kid who presumably agrees to let him see earth bc That’s His Favorite Card And He Thinks He’s Cool and who’s probably like 12 (sorry saori I have no clue how old you are I’m just guessing based off taiyou + hiroki) and just. Walk around on earth (where are saori’s parents btw. Like you could say this about most vanguard characters but where are saori’s parents/guardians/friends do they know what “saori” is up to?? Does anyone who knew him pre-diffride realize how different he’s been acting?). Play a card game where he commands his dead comrades bc shiranui is paying him (which. How is he paying him, earth currency or cray currency? And what IS cray currency for that matter?). The only thing he likes about earth is the music but he is specifically cursed to keep having his headphones break. When a unit who’s diffriding a human dies in the human’s body, both the unit and the human die on both planets, and besides the money dumjid is only on shiranui’s team bc antero/miguel DIED, a fact which he’s fully aware of and iirc derides him for (may be wrong abt that one though). He constantly tells people to die when he’s cardfighting them. He is laid-back about vanguard and doesn’t care much until he loses a cardfight and because loss and death are inextricably linked in his mind he proceeds to get Super Fucked Up About It bc he’s built his entire self image off being The One Who Survives and losing the cardfight is akin to confirming that it’s possible for him to die & he especially can’t accept that Some Random Humans have the ability to take him out. Sometimes he shows his opponents the battlefield and the bodies of his comrades and they really don’t seem to devote much thought to it (like. What??? I get that chrono & friends love vanguard and chrono does address it a little bit but mostly iirc just to say “I don’t think that’s what vanguard actually does/that’s not OUR vanguard”). He’s affected worse and worse with each loss and joins a group trying to end the world to get revenge on the humans who’ve beaten him (iirc unclear whether he knows the success of the destruction of the earth will destroy him too). He becomes the last of the original diffriders - chaos breaker dragon doesn’t count he was diffridden during U20 - to remain on earth, a point which he makes sure to bring up as proof of his superior survival abilities. The kid whose body he’s possessing expresses that he’s not happy about the way dumjid’s acting and dumjid doesn’t give a shit and continues to puppet his body around. Just, everything about him as a character is so fascinating in a concerning way and, like shiranui, he brings up the fact that vanguard is Real in a way that the earth characters don’t really consider - yes they have strong imaginations and genuine attachment to their units, but ultimately they’re playing a card game where even if cards get sent to the drop/damage zones they can come back for the next battle* whereas on cray they’re fighting Actual Battles and the units that die die For Real And Permanently. Unlike shiranui, who eventually began to see vanguard as a method of reunion with his dead friends and decided that what he’d been told about earth vanguard being a direct cause for his friends’ deaths might be wrong, Dumjid never changes his view on earth vanguard after “experiencing death”, so when he finally loses and goes back to cray he’s essentially dragged back clawing and screaming. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that’s sooooo soooo fascinating to me

[themyscirah]

Thinking about current continuity Vanessa and just getting pissed off again

Like one, LET HER REST oh my god dc you ruin her FUCKING life like an asshole only to bring her back as a villain after she finally got out oh my god-

But also like its just so bad. This is a whole other woman with her name like why are we doing this. Like first you kill her mom (JULIA NOOO) and erase her YEARS of history growing up around diana (the thing that actually made her villain turn [if you can call it that w the level of manipulation involved] interesting and fucking heartbreaking) for some shitty "oh I saved you we were friends" run of the mill whatever. Then to use that and say Nessie had a crush on her OWN SISTER (Diana, so like informally adopted, but still 😡) now????

And then they took away her curls and made her a redhead but not even the realistic kind. DC SHE DOESNT LOOK LIKE THAT

It just makes me so mad. Freaking guys. They could have used another name like oh my god. She's not even the first silver swan why the fuck would they do that if they're not going to explore her history w diana (which she no longer has!!!!) or how intensely fucked up everything got for her. What is even the fucking point of this then other to drag a main character of the ww supporting cast through the mud again for genuinely no reason. They could have easily had her be Valerie Beaudry (sorry Val) instead or just MADE UP ANOTHER NAME because it's obvious that no one actually cared about her as a character they just wanted the wondy villain back so like !!!!!!!!!! Why even bother

[the-incorrect-quotes-show]

Lunar: Quick! Hide me!

Nova: What? Why? What's wrong??

Lunar: I jokingly told your Moon that I don't believe in oxygen. Now he's on a war path

[releaseholiday]

.

[floral-hex]

So this is my thing now, I’m afraid to go to sleep. This is kinda bullshit, brain.

[springtyme]

munch spencer. that’s it. this is the ask.

𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲) ♡

Yo, doc, what that mouth do? thank you for the ask, hun! I'm sorry it took so long to get around to it <3

Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: You love Spencer, you love all of him. You especially love that big, beautiful, brilliant brain of his, it does, however, make him talk a little too much sometimes. But there's one activity he loves that seems to effectively shut him up every time.

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Cunnilingus (obviously). Vaginal fingering. Squirting. Multiable orgasms. The moodboard is only for vibes, there is no description of how the reader looks.

The soft glow of the television is casting long shadows on the walls as Spencer’s sweet lips begin to explore down your neck, kissing a trail down your heated skin and down to your collarbone. 

“Did you know that the average person spends two weeks of their life kissing?” he murmurs against your skin, causing you to giggle, the movement of his lips making your skin tickle. His smooth voice sounding huskier than usual, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, his touch lingering on your collarbone as he leans in closer. 

“Oh, really?” you reply, playful amusement in your voice as you tilt your head back to give him better access.

“Mmmhmm,” he hums against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of desire wherever they roam. “And the longest recorded kiss lasted over 58 hours,” he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine. 

“That’s really interesting, Spence,” you gasp as Spencer’s lips finally reach the hollow of your throat. “But can we focus on the kissing part right now?” you add, gently tugging on his hair. Spencer chuckles softly, clearly amused by your eagerness as he lifts his head to lock eyes with you. 

You love Spencer’s mind; his big, beautiful brain never ceases to amaze you. It is one of the first things that drew you to him. And when he had looked into your eyes for the first time, with those beautiful hazel brown eyes of his, full of warmth and intelligence, you knew you were done for. You love everything that makes him him, but in this moment, all you can think about is the way his lips feel against your skin, the way his touch ignites a fire within you.

His gaze is intense as he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that leaves you breathless. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the warmth of his body pressed close to yours. The sound of the television is now just background noise, the documentary you had been watching completely forgotten as your focus now is solely on the feel of Spencer’s lips on yours.

Time seems to stand still as the kiss deepens, a mix of desire and adoration swirling between you and Spencer. His hands move to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he deepens the kiss even more. 

You moan softly against his lips, arching into his touch as the intensity of the moment washes over you. Spencer pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on yours as he breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

“I could spend a lifetime kissing you,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion.

Your heart flutters at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his sweet declaration. You smile, feeling a rush of love and affection for this man who holds your heart in his hands, but you also feel how a warm flutter of fire hot desire starts to burn in your stomach, a primal need for him burning inside you.

“I could spend a lifetime kissing you too,” you reply, your voice filled with equal parts love and desire as you slowly start to straddle his lap, Spencer’s hands instinctively finding their way to your hips, pulling you closer against him. “But I wouldn’t mind doing a little more than just kissing,” you add, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as you feel a tingling sensation course through your body at the thought of what could come next. 

Spencer’s eyes darken slightly as he watches you with a hunger that mirrors your own, his hands sliding up your sides and you can’t help but squirm a little at the sensation of his touch.

His lips curve into a mischievous smile before he gently pushes you back onto the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear.

“I think we can definitely do more than just kissing,” he murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine. You still can’t believe how confident he has become since you started dating. He is still the same sweet, smart, nerdy Spencer, but now there is a newfound confidence in him, he is not as hesitant. 

The air between you crackles with anticipation as he leans in to capture your lips once again, the kiss deep and searing, sending sparks flying through your veins. His hands roam over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

You tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours, and he responds by pulling it off with a quick efficiency that leaves you breathless. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he leans in to capture your lips once more.

You are just about to ask him if he wants to stay on the couch or if you should move this to the bedroom when the sound of Spencer’s phone ringing interrupts the moment. Spencer freezes mid-kiss, a soft sigh of frustration leaving his lips as he reluctantly pulls away. 

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says apologetically as you remove yourself from his lap. You nod understandingly, trying to hide your disappointment, you know that this is just a part of dating someone with as important a job as Spencer, that he has a job that can require his attention and focus at all times.

You take a moment to catch your breath, your body still humming with desire from the moments before, feeling the ache between your legs grow stronger as you hear Spencer answering the call from the kitchen. 

A little pang of hope lingers in your chest as you hear Spencer groaning down the line. “I can’t believe you’re calling me for this now, Garcia,” he says, his voice filled with annoyance. You can hear the woman’s laughter through the phone, followed by some witty banter that makes Spencer chuckle softly despite himself. Doesn’t sounds like he has to leave to go on a case

You have not met any of Spencer’s coworkers yet, they don’t even know that Spencer is dating anyone. Maybe you should feel some type of way about your boyfriend keeping you secret, but you understand his choice. His job is high-stress, demanding, and potentially dangerous. You trust his judgment and respect his decisions, even though a small part of you wishes you could be there for him more openly. 

His colleagues and him are close-knit, almost like a family, and they have their own ways of showing support and camaraderie. It doesn't bother you that he hasn't introduced you to them yet, but you can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about the people who mean so much to him. 

As Spencer finishes up his call, he walks back into the living room with a sheepish smile, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and desire. “Sorry about that,” he says as he flops down next to you on the couch with a groan. “Garcia keeps trying to set me up on a date, it was with someone from her book club this time, says I need to get out more.” he continues, rolling his eyes. “I keep shutting it down, but she’s so persistent.”

You chuckle at his admission, reaching out to run a hand through his tousled hair. “Well, I’m glad you’re not interested in going on a date with anyone else. I quite like having you all to myself,” you say with a teasing smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

Spencer’s eyes light up at your words, a smile spreading across his face as he leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “I have no desire to go on any dates that don’t involve you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “Maybe it’s time I introduce you to the team,” he adds, his eyes searching yours for approval. “Get Garcia to stop trying to set me up on blind dates.”

You feel a rush of warmth at the thought of finally meeting the people who mean so much to Spencer, of being able to share a part of his life that he keeps separate from you. “I would love that,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ve been curious about the people you work with, they must be amazing if they’re anything like you.” 

Spencer’s smile widens at your words, his hand reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “They are pretty amazing,” he admits, a hint of pride in his voice. “I think you’ll fit right in with the team.” 

“But they can’t be as amazing as you,” you say, leaning in to press a lingering kiss on Spencer’s lips. The warmth of his smile against yours only confirms the depth of emotion you feel for this man. 

As you pull back, a spark of mischief lights up in Spencer’s eyes. “I think it’s time we pick up where we left off,” he murmurs, his hands already starting to trail down your body, igniting a fire of desire within you once more. 

You can’t help but laugh as you lean in to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” you whisper against his lips, the desire igniting once again between you both. “Bedroom?” ask, your voice filled with anticipation and desire.

Spencer’s eyes light up with anticipation as he nods, a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Definitely bedroom,” he agrees, his voice dripping with desire. With a shared grin, you both rise from the couch, hands intertwined as you make your way to the bedroom, leaving the glow of the television behind,  his warm hand holding yours tightly as he pulls you along.

Once inside the bedroom, Spencer pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. Clothes are discarded hastily, a sense of urgency driving you both as you fall into the bed, a tangle of limbs and desire. 

“Did you know that making love releases oxytocin, the hormone responsible for bonding and feelings of intimacy?” Spencer murmurs against your skin, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he’s committing your form to memory. You gasp at the sensation, the warmth of his touch sending waves of pleasure cascading through you.

“I didn’t know that,” you breathe, your fingers threading through his hair as he continues to worship your body with his kisses. 

“Yeah, and it also increases levels of dopamine, the pleasure hormone,” Spencer adds, his voice husky with desire as he peppers kisses along your jawline, his hands skimming over your curves. “Which means that being with you not only feels amazing physically, but it also strengthens our emotional connection.” 

“Oh, really?” Is all you muster for a reply, the husky tone his voice has taken, is sending a thrill of warmth through you.

“Yeah, and cunnilingus has also been shown to have numerous health benefits, including reducing stress and boosting the immune system,” Spencer continues, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness as he looks up at you with a knowing smile. 

You can’t help but laugh at that comment.  You remember how shy Spencer had been when you were together for the first time, the way his eyes had been wide and his pale cheeks blushing as he had asked you if he could go down on you, almost pleadingly, like a parched man begging for water, like your pussy was the water that would save him. And that is exactly how  Spencer eats pussy, with a reverence and devotion you would never guess, and he fucking loves it-You've never before been with someone who genuinely enjoyed giving oral sex as much as Spencer does, and it drives you wild.

“I’m all for boosting my immune system,” you reply playfully, your hands roaming over his body as you pull him closer to you. Spencer grins at your response, his eyes dark with desire as he leans in to leave a sloppy kiss to the side of your neck, sending a hor shiver down your spine. He continues to kiss a wet trail of kisses down your neck  to your chest. 

He is kissing and licking down between the valley of your breasts, his hands sliding down your body to explore every inch of your skin. The sensation of his lips and hands on you is almost overwhelming, the desire building up inside you like a wildfire. 

The only thing you’re still wearing is your now soaked panties. Spencer’s hands slide slowly down to your hips, his gaze meeting yours as he presses a tender kiss to the center of your chest. The intensity of the moment fills the room, the air around you charged with desire as you lose yourself in the sensations of his touch.

Your breath catches as he leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your skin as he trails kisses down your abdomen, his hands deftly hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, but instead of pulling them down, he lowers his head and places a gentle kiss to the fabric, his lips teasing the sensitive skin beneath. 

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, your hands grabbing the sheets as he continues to worship you with his mouth, his tongue tracing patterns over the thin fabric. 

Finally he takes the delicate garment between his teeth, gently biting down on the fabric and with a slow, deliberate motion as he uses his mouth to slide the panties down your legs until he reaches your knees and his hands take over, leaving you bare before him. The cool air hits your heated skin as he tosses your panties aside, his eyes locking with yours as he moves back up your body, kissing up your legs until he again is placed between your thighs, his hands prying your legs apart as he settles himself in between them.

His gaze is intense as he looks up at you, the desire in his eyes burning bright as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his hands gripping your hips firmly. You can feel his warm breath against your core, sending a rush of heat through your body as he begins to slowly explore your most intimate parts with his lips and tongue.

“You are so gorgeous,” he hums into you, his voice filled with adoration and desire. The vibration of his words against your cunt is sending a delicious shiver through you, making you arch your back, pressing your pussy more firmly against his mouth. He groans with content as he nuzzles his face against you, his nose brushing against your clit as inhale deeply, savoring the heady scent of your arousal. 

Spencer’s tongue is warm and velvety as he pushes it through your slick folds. You thread your fingers through his hair, urging him on with soft moans and gasps as he continues to lap into you with a hunger and passion that leaves you trembling with need. 

“You taste so sweet,” he murmurs, his words sending a delicious thrill down your spine as he swirls his tongue around your swollen clit, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You can’t help but let out a cascade of  moans and whimpers as he begins to move your hips in rhythm with his ministrations, making you gently grind against his face as he continues to worship you with his mouth. 

After a little while one of his hands leaves your hips to slide up your body, teasing and caressing your skin as he cups your breast, flicking his thumb over your hardened nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.  

The sound of your moans echoing through the room only drives him further, his movements becoming more urgent as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your wet pussy pulses with desire. The bedframe is now creaking under you, Spencer grinding his erection against the mattress as he eagerly devours you. Your head is spinning, the sensations overwhelming you as you feel the coil of pleasure tightening within you.

The dual sensations of his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast are driving you wild, the pleasure building up inside you like a tempest. You can feel your orgasm approaching, a wave of ecstasy ready to crash over you at any moment.

You arch your back, gasping for breath as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your body shaking with the force of your release. Spencer’s name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure, his eyes locked on yours, filled with desire and adoration, but he doesn’t stop. Your body is writhing beneath him, every nerve ending aflame. 

“I know you got more in you,” Spencer’s voice is husky and filled with desire before he teasingly flick his tongue against your sensitive clit. “Want you to sit on my face, love.” 

Your breath hitches at his words, the suggestion sending a rush of arousal through you as you meet his gaze. Without hesitation, you lift yourself up slightly, allowing Spencer to shift beneath you as you straddle his face, settling yourself comfortably in his eager mouth. 

The sensation of his warm tongue lapping at your sensitive folds sends a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your hands clutching at the sheets as you ride the waves of ecstasy that wash over you. Spencer’s hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you grind against his face, the slick sound of his mouth on your wet pussy mixing with the sweet sounds of your moans and gasps filling the room. He brings your throbbing clit between his lips, sucking gently before flicking his tongue against it, sending another wave of pleasure crashing over you. 

You can feel the tension building within you once again, your body trembling with need. You lift yourself up slightly, feeling the heat of Spencer’s breath against your swollen clit, he lifts a hand to your pulsing core, flicking over your weeping cunt with a speed and urgency that has you gasping for breath. your toes are curling as you gush all over, the clear liquid getting flicked everywhere. You know how much he loves it when he can make you squirt. 

You feel your body tightening with the impending release, the pleasure building up inside you like a tidal wave ready to crash. The intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing over you relentlessly. Spencer’s name keeps spilling from your lips as your body shakes with the force of your release. 

Spencer eagerly drinks in your essence, bringing you to new heights of ecstasy with his expert ministrations. You feel the world around you fade away as you lose yourself in the delicious pleasure he is giving you, his devotion and desire evident in every touch, every caress, every flick of his tongue.

As the waves of pleasure finally subside, leaving you breathless and trembling in the aftermath, Spencer pulls you close, kissing you tenderly, making you taste yourself on his swollen lips. You pull away after a little while so you can look into his beautiful eyes. His lips and chin glistening with your juices. 

“You are incredible,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine awe as you brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. Spencer smiles softly, a contented look in his eyes as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. 

“You’re pretty incredible yourself,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Do, eh… Do you need me to return the favor?” you ask, feeling a surge of desire to give him just as much pleasure as he had given you.

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle while he gently shakes his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary,”  he says, a slight red blush creeping across his cheeks. That’s when you notice the wet, sticky spot on the front of his gray boxer briefs  

“I think I might have taken care of that myself,” he adds with a small, almost shy, smile, causing you to giggle softly. You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling a rush of love and affection for this man who will devour you like a starved man and bring you to the highest of highs, who also blushes after creaming his pants while eating you out. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really fucking cute, Spence?”tease, your heart filled with warmth and adoration for the man in front of you. as you lean in to capture his lips in a sweet tender kiss. “And so fucking sexy,” you add, whispering the words against his soft lips.

Spencer chuckles, the sound vibrating sweetly against your lips, his cheeks flushing even more at your words. “Only you,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth and adoration. “But I like being told that by you.” You smile, feeling a rush of affection for him as you snuggle closer, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whisper, feeling his arms tighten around you in response, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“I love you too, more than words can express,” he murmurs, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell with happiness.

“And here I thought you had words for everything Dr. Reid,” you tease playfully, earning a soft chuckle from Spencer. 

“I may have words for a lot of things, but when it comes to how much I love you, words always fall short,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity. 

You can feel your heart overflowing with love and happiness at his words, knowing deep down that this man truly adores you. You snuggle closer to him, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you like a comforting cocoon. 

“Do you have any plans next Saturday?” Spencer asks, his voice filled with excitement as he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You raise an eyebrow in curiosity, a smile tugging at your lips. “No, why?” you reply, wondering what he has in mind. 

“Just… Maybe you could meet the team next weekend,” he says, a shy smile playing on his lips.” They mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me, it makes sense to introduce you to them,” he explains, his eyes shining with love. “Would be nice to get Garcia off my back as well,” he adds, his playful tone causing you to laugh.

You feel a rush of warmth and happiness at the thought of finally meeting the people who are so important to Spencer, of being able to share a part of his life that he's kept separate from you.

“I would love to meet them,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face. “I can’t wait to finally put faces to the names you talk about so often.”

Spencer’s grin widens at your words, his eyes shining with excitement. “You’re going to love them,” he assures you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can’t wait for them to meet you. And they are gonna love you. You’re so lovely,” he adds, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“You are lovely,” you murmur, feeling a surge of love and happiness at the warmth and affection in his words as he kisses your forehead again. You snuggle closer to him, feeling content and secure in his embrace, knowing that you have found someone truly special in Spencer.

You lay tangled together in a peaceful silence for a long while, the tranquility of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“You want a shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you feel the stickiness of sweat and other fluids on your skin.

“What about a bath?” Spencer suggests, squeezing you a little tighter.

“A bath does sound amazing,” you agree, feeling a smile tugging at your lips as you shift to look up at him. “You know me so well.” 

Spencer chuckles softly, the sound filling the room with warmth as he presses a tender kiss to your lips. “I aim to please,” he says, his voice filled with affection.

“Hmm, maybe I can please a little too,” you counter, running a teasing hand down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. 

Spencer lets out a breathy giggle as his eyes find yours. “You don’t have to do that,” he replies, his soft smile making his eyes look like they sparkle as he leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Maybe I want to, Spence,” you reply with a mischievous grin, feeling a surge of desire pulsing through your veins at the thought of returning the favor to him. “After all, we did just learn about all those health benefits of cunnilingus, isn’t it the same with fellatio?” you ask, raising an eyebrow playfully as you trace a finger along his jawline.

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at your boldness, a hint of surprise flashing in his gaze before a playful glint takes over.  “Well, I suppose it’s only fair to test out those health benefits,” he says, his voice filled with amusement as he stands up from the bed, offering you his hand to help you up as well. 

The two of you make your way to the bathroom, filling the bathtub with warm water and bubbles as you both slip in together. The warm water soothes your muscles as you relax against Spencer’s chest, his arms wrapped around you in a loving embrace.

As you relax in the warm water, Spencer’s hands find yours, intertwining your fingers as you both bask in the peace and comfort of the moment. The sound of the water gently trickling around you is soothing as you lean back against Spencer, feeling his warmth and love enveloping you like a blanket. You close your eyes, savoring the moment of intimacy and connection that you share with him. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life,” you murmur, feeling a rush of gratitude and love for the man holding you close. 

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your temple, his voice filled with sincerity. “I feel the same way about you,” he whispers, his arms tightening around you in a loving embrace. 

The words warm your heart, filling you with a sense of happiness and contentment. You feel truly blessed to have found someone who loves and cherishes you so deeply. “I love you, Spencer,” you say, your voice filled with emotion as you turn to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“I love you too,” he says, bringing your entwined hand up to kiss your knuckles. “So, so much.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ♡

@sadroses98

[starrbucky]

.

[bluebeary-jay]

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it��d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom (teaser)

genre: poly hockey team!ateez x coach fem!reader, enemies/strangers to lovers, athlete!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 1.0k (teaser) + approx. 38k (full fic)

c/w: sweaty ateez (warning well deserved), lots of hurt/comfort, one of the slowest slow burns to slow burn, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic

synopsis: you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.

a/n: when i started writing this i really thought it wouldn't exceed 25k but here we are :D full fic will be released in about a week and i am so ready

“she’s the new coach?” yunho frowns in confusion. “no offence, but we’re not a bunch of kids for her to practise being a soccer mum to.”

“she was the assistant coach for the grey eagles,” coach cho discloses.

“the grey eagles? the under-21 men’s championship team?” yeosang looks incredulous.

mingi sceptically comments, “the fact that we’ve never seen or heard of her before probably tells us enough.”

hongjoong’s lips purse sourly as he tries his hardest to analyse the situation with the professionalism of the team’s captain. but with the sudden change in coaches and the same critiquing doubts as mingi, hongjoong cannot help but feel his personal judgement webbing over his mind. over the team’s entire career as an elite ice hockey team thus far–five years, now well into their sixth–the red devils have only ever had two coaches. coach cho has been with them for the longest and whilst it took the team a while to eventually warm up to him, he has been with them for almost quadruple the amount of time it took to trust him.

the team’s alternate captain, seonghwa, speaks to you directly, “if you don’t mind me asking, why are you not playing as an athlete yourself? you’re clearly our age–nowhere near retiring.”

you knew from the very start that your age would make your credibility as a coach much lower, and your answer to seonghwa will not help your case either. “i stopped playing.”

“how come?”

the trigger of memories fills your nose with a sharp stinging smell. you blankly reveal, “i chose to stop playing.” you know exactly how it sounds like to somebody else, even more so to professional athletes. coach cho has also told you of the team’s hardheadedness and strong will when it comes to the passions of their career, so you are expecting the cold receptiveness that you are met with.

your response strikes the wrong chord within wooyoung. there was a point in his career not too long ago when the choice of continuing to play or not was at risk of becoming a forced decision. the way you answer so callously with those very words that had threatened to tear his world apart has his jaw grinding and eyes darkening, and he is not the only athlete in the arena who feels similarly.

“i would rather choose to die before i choose to stop playing. ice hockey is my entire life and without it, i am not living either,” hongjoong jabs and you cannot help but clench your fists because you know exactly what he means. still, you stay quiet as he continues, “sorry, but i can’t respect a ‘coach’ who chose to stop playing.”

at the captain’s words and subsequent move to leave for the changerooms, the rest of the team also gather their equipment and follow his steps. san’s feet falter in front of you, expression hesitant until he decides to voice, “our team needs a bit of time. it’s hard for us to warm up to…outsiders, and i know it might not mean much to say this but we have our reasons. don’t expect us to blindly trust you just because you’re a coach.”

the use of the word ‘outsider’ does not go unnoticed as you nod, “of course.”

san jogs off to rejoin the others and coach cho hums, “guess some things haven’t changed. they were just as prickly to me when i first became their coach.”

you raise an eyebrow, “prickly? to you?”

“yes, believe it or not,” he chuckles nostalgically. “we’ve come a long way because i’ve been their coach for years now. but it took me a while before i was able to break down their walls.”

you briefly mull over the information, then ask out of curiosity, “what would you have done if i didn’t sign the contract?”

“begged you to rethink your decision,” he jokes with a pleased chortle. “i would have to start looking for a different coach, i suppose. you were my only pick.”

“but why me, of all people? there are so many other experienced coaches that you can choose from.”

he looks at you, eyes glinting with intuition and confidence as he simply says, “you’re familiar with their playing style. they play just like you used to.” at your silent processing, coach cho probes, “why didn’t you tell them the real reason?”

you smile wistfully, “i didn't tell them because i’m not here to gain their pity.”

some of the boys’ voices grow louder as they emerge from the changerooms, changed into fresh clothes and their kit bags slung over their shoulders. you hear one of them ask, “captain, is she really going to be our new coach?”

they step out from the facility’s corridor and you accidentally make eye contact with hongjoong, yet neither of you look away. maintaining a steady gaze directly at you, he responds with a slight glower, “maybe, but she’s only the coach by title. i’m still the captain of the team, so let’s see who everyone listens to.”

as they exit the rink’s arena, you feel a fire of determination growing inside of you. you have won over your own demons and you have won the championships before–this is nothing in comparison. whether your next words are for coach cho or for yourself to hear, it does not matter.

“i may not play anymore but i was still once an athlete and no athlete has ever, in their career, wanted pity. i’m here to earn the team’s respect and i will win over them, especially their captain.”

you watch the swing of the glass door as it shuts behind the players, catching a brief glimpse of the trees lining the arena’s perimeter. it is the first day of autumn when you meet the red devils for the first time and outside, the leaves are beginning to change their colours.

apply for taglist | comment below to be tagged for this fic only

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @ifykyunho @ppprimary @hwas-housewife

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@itstheghostofmypast @kiki277 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar

@aaa-sia @nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese

@ddeonghwva @delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @hxpelesscxven

@fureastel @seomisaho @levishun @lesyeuxdeanna @readerofallthingss

@potatos-on-clouds @apriecotte @hhoneylix @kyeos4ng @smally97

@savluvsmingi @pixie0627 @kyeos4ng @yunhowooyo @yeehawnana

@telail @drinkingrumandcocacola @frenkoza01 @myblovedjyh @enhacracy

@satsuri3su @jinternational-playboy @seonghwasslytherin

[keikikait]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.6k

summary: you wait up for rafe after he leaves you for sofia

warnings: ANGST/THEMES OF DEPRESSION. please only read if you're comfortable!, reader literally sits on her couch for 2 days, forced undressing (not sexually), no smut but they shower together, rafe is trying to be good i promise, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong about his house i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: ik i just posted part 1 yesterday but like. i had to keep cooking. let me know if you want a part three! also, i think this is my longest fic to date...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You wait for him all day. Like the good girl he expects you to be.

You shower and pamper yourself, trying to take the edge off, but it’s all for naught. You were going to be an anxious, stressed mess until you heard those three knocks. You sit, fully dressed in a simple crop top and miniskirt, watching TV. You don’t dare move from this spot, just in case he decides to come home to you early.

The clock strikes one, and the waiting is too much for you. You're anxious, stressed, nervous; everything that you didn't want to be. The waiting feels like hours but also like seconds, the seconds ticking away painfully slow and too fast, the minutes and hours passing without your realization or intention.

You watch the TV with unseeing eyes, still sitting on the couch, fully dressed. And then it strikes two. And all you can do is wait some more. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. You’ve already made it through a season of the show you were watching, mindlessly staring at the screen.

Sitting. 

Waiting.

The sun starts to set, orange and pink hues streaking across your living room. You don’t move from your spot, starting to grow even more anxious. The tag on your shirt is starting to irritate you, but you don’t dare to move. You didn’t want to miss him, didn’t want to miss the knocks from your bedroom. 

The sun completely sets, the only source of light coming from your TV. It’s just a few minutes after 6:00pm, but the room feels dark, so much darker than any other night before. Your phone vibrates, dancing across the coffee table, but it isn’t Rafe, so you don’t answer it, not wanting to miss the three knocks. Your patience grows thin, and each second feels like an eternity. Waiting is never a pleasant thing. Waiting for him is even worse.

6 PM turns into 9 PM, and suddenly it’s midnight. Rafe never came home.

You continue to stay up, pinching your arm occasionally to wake you back up. You didn’t want to miss him. You had a habit of being a heavy sleeper and sleeping in, and you knew that you would miss the knocks. 

You grab your phone, scrolling through Sofia’s Instagram with shaky hands. There was no point in checking Rafe’s, he barely posted. The little pink ring swims around Sofia’s profile picture, and you click on her story.

The first story is from 12 hours ago, showing a plate from a fancy brunch spot on the mainland. The date he ditched you to take her on. The next story is from 10 hours ago, a shot of both of their hands holding cups of ice cream on a pier somewhere. He was wearing the gold Ouroboros ring you bought him, and it makes your heart clench. The next story is from 7 hours ago, a selfie of her looking frustratingly gorgeous in Rafe’s bedroom, the covers pulled up over her bare chest.

Did they fuck? Even after everything that happened last night?

The last story is from 3 hours ago, a selfie of them together outside a sushi restaurant, her arm around his neck while he looks off into the distance, a cigarette in his mouth. He’s still wearing that stupid ring.

Did he forget about you?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You hope, foolishly, that he would text you, tell you he’s running late and that he’ll be there soon. But he doesn’t. You don’t move to text him first, knowing he won’t respond anyway, especially if Sofia is next to him.

You set your phone down, feeling completely overwhelmed. The possibility of them sleeping together tonight makes you sick to your stomach, but you wouldn’t put it past Rafe to do something like that. Especially after what he said yesterday.

She’s my girlfriend.

And you were just his…what? His friend? His side chick? The other woman? A warm mouth and a tight hole that he sought out when he was done with Sofia’s shit?

You drop your phone onto the floor, grabbing the pillow from under your head and pressing your face into it, trying to silence your sobs. It takes everything in you not to scream into the pillow, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. How could you be such an idiot? He never fails to make you feel so naïve. You thought last night would change everything between the two of you, but it didn’t. 

All it did was remind you how worthless you were, that you were just his second best. Maybe the picture that you painted of him looks better in your mind.

You suddenly jump when your window slams shut. It blows open again before slamming once more, your curtains rippling with the wind. You get up, shuffling across the room. You shut the window, drawing the curtains closed, but not before looking out of them to see if Rafe’s car was parked outside. 

It wasn’t.

You lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, starting to stare at the screen again. You make it through a few more episodes of whatever the hell you put on before it suddenly shuts off. Even the show’s characters didn’t want to be with you. Your head is pounding, your throat is dry, and your eyes are red-rimmed and swollen from your tears. Your heart aches, and your lungs sting with every breath you take.

You don’t even move to turn the TV off or try to fix it. You just lay there, crying in the light of the TV static.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

The sun rises, and you don’t get up at first. 

You didn’t want to move, just in case he showed up, but part of you knew deep down that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. You fix the TV before laying back down, staring mindlessly at the screen, trying to distract yourself. You reach down onto the floor, grabbing your phone. You check Sofia’s Instagram again. The little pink circle around her picture taunts you. You click on it anyway, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

Joining the remaining stories from yesterday is one new post. A selfie of her with a clay facemask on, one eye closed as she blocks the sunlight with her hand, lounging beside Rafe’s new pool. She’s wearing a necklace with a diamond ‘R’ charm on it, as if she’s personally rubbing it in your face.

You lock your phone, putting it down on the floor before sliding it away with a flick of your wrist. It doesn’t go far, hitting one of the legs of your coffee table. You change the show on your TV, picking some true-crime documentary before laying your head back down.

You watch the show with distant eyes, feeling completely numb. You don’t know why you keep checking her account, knowing it would just make you feel even worse. But you do it anyway, because maybe deep down you deserve it. You think about texting him, asking him if he’s coming over today. But you don’t dare. You don’t want to come off as a clingy whore. 

Your phone buzzes from the floor, vibrating the coffee table, startling you. You stay on the couch, reaching across the floor with one hand and grabbing your phone. You eagerly turn it over, expecting it to be from Rafe, maybe a long apology text, or even just a simple ‘On my way over.’ The phone doesn’t immediately light up. You hate that feature. You tap on the screen, your face immediately falling.

It’s just an email from your electric company about your mid-cycle usage report.

You let out a sharp scream, chucking your phone against the wall. It doesn’t shatter, but it bends around the sharp corner of the plaster.

The scream of frustration is cathartic, but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by the feeling of loneliness that has become so common these past few days. But right now, it seems like a million times more unbearable. You start to cry again, burying your face back into your pillow.

The sun sets, and then it gets dark. You don’t move.

You can’t move. What if he comes back? What if this is the time he knocks? You can’t miss them. You can’t miss him. You curl yourself into a pathetic heap on the couch, hoping that he’ll come back. He will. He has to. He has to know how miserable you are. He has to realize how badly he’s hurting you and actually care about it this time. 

But each hour feels even more hopeless than the last. You stay up, wide awake, all night thinking about him. You don’t hear a single knock. You don’t see any headlights or cars pulling up into your driveway. There’s nothing but crickets in the distance and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

You barely pay attention to the show in front of you, staring with unfocused eyes at the screen. The sun starts to rise, casting a soft pink hue onto your living room. You’ve been sitting on your couch for two days, waiting for a man who probably doesn’t want you. Two days. Two days of sitting here, hoping, praying that he would come back. Two days of sitting here like a fool, waiting for a man who’s with someone else.

Yet you can’t seem to find the motivation to get up. You can’t. Just in case, this time, he shows up.

Your head throbs, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You shut your eyes, burying your face in your pillow. You wish you were laying your head on his chest instead. Your thoughts are too loud, too consuming, too overwhelming. It’s hard to think clearly, to sort things out in your head. You’re so exhausted, mentally and physically, that you start to doze off.

You fall asleep, face buried in your mascara stained pillow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Your eyes suddenly shoot open when you feel your shoulder being shaken and a hand on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Wake up, I’m here.” Rafe’s voice is like music to your ears. Soft, low, deep. You feel his large hand against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tries to gently coax you awake. He’s here. After two long days of no food, no shower, no company except your own miserable thoughts, he’s here.

“Rafe?” You ask, head and body aching from two days of laying completely still on your uncomfortable Ikea couch.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.” Rafe says, his voice soft and gentle. His fingers trail along your cheek, his hand so big against your face. He tries to hide it, but you can see the slight grimace on his face as he takes you in. “Are you okay? I tried calling you this morning, but you didn’t answer.”

You glance around, trying to take in your surroundings. You finally fell asleep, and judging by the slowly setting sun, you slept for a while. “My phone, I um…” You gesture to the smashed phone laying across the room.

Rafe sighs, his brow furrowing as he glances over to your smashed phone. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking back at you. His expression falls, and his eyes narrow. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Two days.” You say, sitting up. You’re still in the same crop top and miniskirt, your hair starting to feel greasy and itchy.

“Jesus, baby.” Rafe exhales, shaking his head. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks, brushing your messy hair out of your face gently.

“I was waiting for you.” You say, completely ignoring his question. “You said you would come back. I was waiting for you.” You look up at him, feeling completely and utterly pathetic.

His eyes soften, his hand moving to cup your face in his palm. “I know. And I came back, like I promised.” He says soothingly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Baby, you look terrible.”

“No, you promised me two days ago that you would come back.” You say, your voice growing thick as you start to cry again. “You said after your brunch date with Sofia that you would come back.”

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He doesn’t say anything for a while, as if trying to come up with something to say. His expression shifts slightly, from sympathetic to something else, something almost akin to guilt. He sighs, finally speaking, “I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t realize how late it was until it was too late to swing by here.”

“So you left me hanging for an extra day?” You ask, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says, still gentle, but a hint of irritation is there. “I know I said I’d-… I said I’d come back, but I lost track of time, baby. I had to hang out with her for a while to keep up appearances.”

“Oh, fuck you and your appearances!” You say, standing up. You lose balance, reaching down with one hand to balance yourself on the arm of the couch. “Just admit that you didn’t want to see me.”

Rafe reaches out to steady you on your feet, frowning. “That’s not-… I did want to see you.” He says, his voice growing sterner, more irritated. “But I had other obligations. I had to keep up appearances. I told you that.”

“Don’t expect me to believe that bullshit, Rafe.” You say. You try to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip on your arm. “You can just dump me, you know.”

“Yeah? So can you.” He snaps back, his grip on your arm tightening even more.

Your face and eyes twitch slightly, your chest aching. You feel so stupid. Your breathing starts to escalate, coming out of your nose in short puffs. “Let go of me.”

“No.” He says, his voice hard, stern. He still grips your arm tightly, not wanting to let you go. He knows you well enough to understand that you would storm off, maybe even lock yourself in your bedroom. Both of Rafe’s hands move to your hips, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“No!” You shout, trying to pull away. You twist around, reaching down and trying to tug his hands apart. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Baby, look at me! I said, look at me!” Rafe raises his voice, finally using his strength against you, pinning you against his chest with his arms around your waist. He’s got you pressed flush against him now, one hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him, your neck craning. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”

You squirm and wiggle, starting to cry. “You can’t treat me like this!”

His grip tightens, his jaw tensing as he grips your chin and face roughly. It almost feels like he’s manhandling you, forcing you to stay in place as he glares at you. His blue eyes have a hard edge to them. “I will treat you anyway I damn well please, sweetheart. You’re in no place to make demands or tell me what I can and can’t do. I said, look at me.”

You finally meet his gaze. You just sit in his grasp, sniffling as more and more tears threaten to fall. Your bottom lip trembles, and you wonder if you look as pathetic as you feel.

Rafe sighs, his expression growing soft. He loosens his grip on your face, his thumb caresses your cheek. He takes a deep breath, counting to four. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” In one swift motion, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he makes his way towards your bathroom.

“No! Let go of me!” You whine, pounding your fists against his back.

“Quit it.” He snaps, reaching behind his back and grabbing both of your wrists, yanking your hands away from him as best he can. “I swear to god, sweetheart, I will spank you if you don’t stop punching me in the back.” He pushes open the bathroom door, setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, your wrists still in his grip. He turns on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before turning to you with a sigh. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

“No.” You whine, trying to tug your wrists away.

He scoffs, exasperated. “I’m tired of having to repeat myself to you, baby. You’re gonna take a goddamn shower even if I have to force you to, so drop that attitude real quick, or I’ll strip you myself.” He leans in closer, his eyes darkening, his jaw clenching again. “You wanna be bratty and defiant with me? I can get real bratty with you right back, sweetheart. Real bratty.”

Your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles. Rafe sighs, taking another deep breath. He had to be nicer to you. “You gotta shower, baby, come on.” He grabs the bottom of your crop top gently, thumb rubbing along the hem.

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks. When your scalp starts to itch, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, mascara smeared, you realise he’s right. You raise your arms up.

“Good girl.” He says, sounding relieved. He reaches behind you to grab the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up over your head. He can see how exhausted you are, how awful you look and how horrible you must feel. He gently drops your shirt on the floor, gently running a hand through your hair with a sigh. He reaches behind you and grabs the waist strap of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You obey, lifting your hips.

Rafe slides the skirt off your hips and down your thighs, setting it on top of your shirt on the floor. He then grabs the waistband of your panties, kissing your hipbones as he tugs them off of your legs and adds them to the pile of discarded clothing. He then reaches forward, gently running his fingers through your hair. “You’re so pretty, baby.” He says, his voice quiet.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

He can tell that you’re still upset with him, and while he’s annoyed by it, he tries to maintain his composure, trying to be patient with you. He steps back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside before undoing his jeans. “Come on, pretty girl. Get in the shower while I undress.”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs and stepping into the shower. Your muscles instantly relax under the water as you step in, back facing the water.

Rafe watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your body before you shut the curtain. He quickly discards the rest of his clothes. Slowly, deliberately, he steps into the shower behind you, not wanting to startle you. He reaches over and moves you a little to the side, giving him room under the water to stand with you. He gently spins you around so your back is facing him, the water hitting your chest. He glances around the built-in ledges of your shower. “Where’s your stuff?” 

You point to the metal shelves you stuck onto the wall, full of expensive products, all gifts from Rafe.

He glances over at the shelf, noticing how neat and precise everything is. Rafe laughs as he grabs your shampoo. “God, you always gotta have everything organized.” He teases, pulling you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your torso, his strong hand pressed against your stomach. He kisses your shoulder before lifting your hair away from your neck to kiss there, his chest and abdomen pressed flush against your back. 

He pours a fair amount of the shampoo into his hand, setting the bottle down. He hasn’t had to actually wash his hair in so long, he forgot what a normal amount of shampoo looks like. He rubs his hands together, lathering it up before starting to gently massage into your scalp. “Keep your head tilted back so you don’t get anything in your eyes.”

You tilt your head back, reaching back and putting your hands on his ribs to keep steady.

He hums in approval as his fingers work, rubbing and massaging your scalp. His body is relaxed against your naked curves, his fingers now working through your hair slowly, ensuring it’s completely lathered before he moves onto the conditioner. He keeps the conditioner in your hair while he washes your body. You reach up and grab your face wash yourself, squirting some into your hands before thoroughly washing your face, trying to get the two-day-old mascara off. Rafe keeps his arm wrapped around your upper body so you can keep leaning against him.

After rinsing yourself clean, he turns the water off, pushing the shower curtain open. He grabs a towel for himself off of the hook by the shower, stepping out. “C’mere, baby.” He says quietly.

You step out, watching as he wraps the towel tight around his waist. He grabs another from your linen closet, holding it open for you. “Arms up, sweetheart.” He says, waiting for you to obey, and you do, lifting your arms. 

Rafe quickly wraps the towel around you, gently rubbing your body to dry you off. He then pulls you close, hugging you. One hand holds the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. He’s been craving the feel of your bare skin for the past two days, and it was nice to finally feel it again. “I’m sorry.” He says, quietly, sincerely. His lips graze your forehead.

“Why couldn’t you have just texted me?” You ask.

Rafe pauses, sighing. He was worried this would come up at some point. He tries to choose his words wisely, so he won’t start a fight so soon after the initial one. “Because… I…sweetheart, I was trying to keep a low profile with her.” His voice is just above a whisper. “Texting you would have let her know there was something going on.”

You shake your head. “You could’ve texted me and then immediately deleted the conversation. She wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I thought of that,” He starts, his brow furrowing. “But the thing is…she looks at my phone sometimes. So I just didn’t want to risk it, alright?”

You look away as he starts to dry your hair with the towel. “I wish things were different. I wish you could change.”

“That’s not fair, baby.” He says, his voice holding a hint of warning. He’s annoyed with you again, but he tries not to lash out this time, especially when taking into account how much he missed you. “You act like I don’t want things to be different.” He runs the towel over your head, gently squeezing your hair to wring out the excess water. “Do you even have enough respect to see me try?”

Your breath hitches. You watch him as he finishes with your hair, wrapping the towel around your chest. 

“I love you, Rafe.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you realise you even said them. “Of course I have respect for you. Of course I want you to try.”

Rafe pauses, his shoulders relaxing as his expression softens. He smiles at you, his eyes looking into yours. He grabs your hips, his thumbs rubbing along the soft skin there. He sighs, closing his eyes. “Then don’t act like I’m evil when I do try.” His voice is quiet, soft. “I mean it. Stop acting like I’m a complete ass to you, sweetheart, because I have been fucking trying.”

He didn’t say he loved you. You don’t care how crazy and clingy you sound at this point, you have to know. “Do you love me too?”

Rafe opens his eyes, his expression growing serious all of a sudden. He pauses for a moment, searching the gaze of your eyes. His hands on your hips move to your lower back, wrapping around you and pulling you close against his chest. His chest is warm against your bare breasts, his body firm and strong. “Baby, that’s a stupid question.”

“You didn’t answer it.” At least just lie and say yes. Please just say that you love me more.

He sighs, his grip on you growing tighter. One of his hands moves up to the back of your neck, holding you in place. He lifts your chin up with a single finger, looking into your eyes. “Loves never meant much to me, sweetheart. I mean… Ward told me that he loved me, and you know exactly what he did.” Rafe brushes his thumb across your cheek. “But…yes, I do love you. You’re the only one I truly love.”

“Promise?” You ask, your voice quiet.

Rafe holds that strong eye contact for a few more seconds before his face softens more, his gaze softening in his eyes. “I promise, sweetheart. I swear on my life. I don’t love anyone else as much as I love you.” His other hand runs up and down your sides, fingers spreading across your skin.

“Not even Sofia?” You ask.

“Especially not her.” He says, pulling you even closer against his chest. He’s growing agitated again. “I told you this before. Everything with her is fake, completely fake. I’m with her for appearances. All she is, is a pretty face.”

You want to believe him, so you do. You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Rafe sighs, relieved that you seem to finally understand. He rubs your back, one hand wrapping around your neck to keep you held against him. He kisses the top of your head, resting his chin on top like before. “Don’t ask me that question again, sweetheart.” He says, his voice gentle, yet stern. “You know I only love you, there’s no need for you to ask such dumb questions.”

You nod. “Can you stay tonight?”

He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can stay tonight.” He takes your chin in his hand again, tilting your face up to look at him. “Can you promise me something, though?”

You take a deep breath. “Anything.”

His brow furrows again, his thumb rubbing along your jawline. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you, alright? I can’t deal with that self-loathing bullshit you pull sometimes, sweetheart, you got that?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. You weren’t expecting that. But at this point, you’re so desperate to lay down with him that you’ll do anything he wants. “I promise, Rafe.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “Good girl.” He says, his voice gentler. “Now, let’s get you into bed, hm?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to bed. He lays down next to you, tucking you in before handing you his phone. “Pick out what new phone you want.” When you look confused, he sighs. “I told you I would buy you a new one because you destroyed yours.”

Oh, yeah. This has been the longest two days of your entire life, and you weren’t even sure if any of that actually happened.

Rafe unlocks his phone before handing it to you, picking something to watch from the small TV on your dresser. You scroll through his pages of unorganised apps, before finally finding Google, typing in the newest iPhone model. You buy yourself a new phone in your favourite colour, all on Rafe’s dime. You’re tempted to text Sofia pretending to be Rafe and tell her it’s over, and to leave you alone, but you don’t. Rafe loved you, and Rafe wanted you. He could dump her himself.

You lock his phone, handing it back to him. He sets it on your bedside table, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

If it’s meant to be, then it will be.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think my lovelies!

part 3 is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @loves0phelia, @drewsphswife, @pillowprincess4him, @maybankslover, @theeternaloptimistt, @jumpme300, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @matthewswifeeee. reply to this post if you would like to be tagged! italics mean i couldn't tag you! x