#And I hope they a good night’s sleep after all this chaos

[soulsocietyfanfiction]

A Gojo Household Affair

Satoru Gojo taking care of his two children alone for the day

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It was a typical hectic morning in the Gojo household. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when the symphony of chaos began. Satoru Gojo, the legendary Jujutsu Sorcerer and high school teacher, stumbled out of bed, his usually stoic eyes squinting against the sudden onslaught of light. His usually pristine white hair was a wild mess from the tossing and turning of the night before, a silent testament to his lack of rest.

Today was a special day. His wife, the ever so capable Y/N, had a mission that couldn't be postponed. The fate of the world rested on her shoulders, and she had left him with the equally daunting task of taking care of their two little bundles of joy: Gojo Touya and Gojo Hana.

Touya, their five year old son, was already dressed in his tiny jujutsu outfit, complete with a tiny blindfold and a stick, swinging it around like a miniature exorcist. "Daddy! Daddy! Let's train!" he exclaimed, his little feet barely touching the ground as he jumped up and down.

Hana, their three year old daughter, had other plans. She was busy pulling her mother's clothes out of the closet, creating a rainbow of fabric that threatened to swallow the room whole. "Mama's dress!" she giggled, holding up a dress twice her size.

Satoru rubbed his eyes, the reality of the situation sinking in. "Alright, alright," he mumbled, his voice still groggy with sleep. "Let's get breakfast started, shall we?"

The twins' eyes lit up at the mention of food. They both loved their mother's cooking, but today, they'd have to make do with Daddy's special cuisine: instant noodles. Satoru could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders as he faced the kitchen, a place he rarely ventured into.

The kitchen was a battleground. The counter was littered with half squeezed tubes of toothpaste and juice boxes that had seen better days. Satoru gulped, trying to remember the last time he had cooked anything more complex than tea. He managed to boil the water and prepare the noodles without burning the house down, which he considered a victory.

As he served the breakfast, Touya looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Daddy, can we have a bath after?"

Satoru nodded, his mind already racing through the day's schedule. He had to juggle his teaching responsibilities with the daycare duties. The idea of dealing with sugar high kindergarteners and a pint sized mischief maker was a horror movie plot in his mind.

The bath was a success, or so he thought. Touya had decided it was a good day to practice his water techniques, leaving the bathroom looking like a soggy battlefield. Hana, on the other hand, had discovered the joy of bubbles and was floating on a sea of them, her laughter echoing through the room.

Once they were all dressed and ready, it was time for the twins' favorite part of the day: playtime. Satoru looked around the living room, which had been transformed into a minefield of toys, and sighed. He had to keep an eye on them, but he also had a mountain of grading to do.

He tried to hide behind his work, but Touya had other ideas. "Daddy, look!" He pointed to a tower of blocks he had built. "It's the Colosseum!"

Satoru leaned in to inspect the tower, his mind racing with historical facts about the Roman amphitheater. Before he could say anything, the tower crumbled under Hana's curious touch.

"It's okay, Tou-kun," he said, patting his son's head. "We'll build it again later."

Hana looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. "I want to build it too!"

And so, Satoru found himself on the floor, surrounded by a sea of blocks, trying to construct an architectural masterpiece with two little helpers who had the attention span of goldfish.

Lunchtime was a blur of peanut butter sandwiches and spilled milk. Satoru was starting to feel the toll of the day. He had forgotten how much energy these little humans required. By the time he had them both napping, he was ready to collapse.

The afternoon was a mix of jujutsu training for Touya and storytime for Hana. Satoru read the same book five times in a row, his voice growing increasingly dramatic with each reading. He had to admit, he was enjoying the quiet moments with his kids.

As the sun began to set, Y/N walked through the door, looking as fresh as a daisy despite her long day. The twins squealed with joy, running into her arms. Satoru couldn't help but feel a bit of relief wash over him.

"How was your day?" she asked, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Challenging," he replied, his eyes twinkling with humor. "But nothing I couldn't handle."

Y/N looked around the house, her gaze landing on the half eaten sandwiches and scattered toys. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she took over dinner prep, and the three of them sat down to eat as a family.

That night, as he tucked the twins into bed, Satoru felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Sure, the house wasn't spotless, and the laundry was piling up, but he had managed to keep them alive, fed, and mostly happy.

"Thank you, Daddy," Touya whispered sleepily.

"Thank you, Daddy," Hana echoed.

Satoru leaned down and kissed them both on the forehead. "You're welcome, little ones."

As he walked out of their room, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Who knew that taking care of two tiny humans could be more exhausting than fighting curses? He had a newfound respect for Y/N's superhuman ability to juggle everything.

But as he collapsed into bed, utterly drained, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he'd do it all again tomorrow. Because in the end, the chaos and the mess were just part of the charm of being a Gojo. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.

[daisyscottage]

waiting “patiently” ^^

[asteroidtroglodyte]

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

[xxsunoosprincess]

hi, can i reqs enha reaction to waking up with their back all scratched up after a long night with their s/o?

back to my regularly scheduled content 😋 absolutely delicious request

Enhypen’s reaction to seeing the marks you left on their back. (OT6)

pairings: enhypen legal line x reader

warnings, 18+, minors DNI, mentions of sex, handjobs, and marking

Heeseung

Shy baby…. doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t want you to feel bad (and also secretly wants you to do it again). When you wake up he is fully dressed and sitting in bed, back facing away from you which is weird. He’s never awake this early and is he watching you sleep?? Can’t pry what’s wrong out of him so you end up wrestling him down and flipping up his shirt, exposing the marks (and making his cock throb). Repeated tells you it’s not a big deal but walks around with his shirt tucked in like a dork just in case anyone else tries to pull a fast one on him.

Jay

Loves that shit. Type of boyfie that sends you $200 to get your nails done all pretty. Taking care of you is his top priority!! Plus, he loves the way a nice manicure looks when you have your hands wrapped around his cock. He can also feel the scratch marks you leave down his back that much better with a nice set of acrylics. When he catches sight of them in the morning, you will have another “investment” sitting in your bank account immediately.

Jake

Shakes you awake after he takes a shower and the body wash packs an extra sting. Once he has you up and sufficiently panicked… “It’s important, wake up!!” Is not the most delicate way to wake up your partner… he pulls off his shirt and flips over to show you the damage. Thinks he has a rash at first, but it doesn’t take much to deduce what the red lines running down his back are from. Once you tell him, he switches to “Look what you did to me! You wild animal!” all whiny and rosey cheeked. Makes you kiss it better.

Sunghoon

Likes it and makes sure everyone knows about it. “Oh these? Y/n was over last night” cue groans from the other members. After that they stop asking but he makes sure they are visible. Will probably even ask you to do it again and leave marks along his shirt line so they “accidentally” show. And when you do, he makes sure to reward you with an extra nice pounding that night <3

Sunoo

Sweet blushing baby!! He sees it in the mirror while doing his morning skincare and shrieks. It obviously attracts the attention of everyone in the dorm, but he runs back to his room with his shirt clutched to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He finally slips into the room and sees you sitting up in bed, clearly just awoken by the chaos happening behind the door. Jeers of “damn Sunoo I didn’t know you were a freak like that!” from Jake as he turns around to show you what all the commotion was about sends you into your own fit of laughter.

Jungwon

The first time it happened he didn’t even notice. Goes about his day until he is at dance practice and is getting sweaty so he takes his shirt off. Sunoo’s scandalized gasp is all he heard before a shirt is thrown at his face with a hissed “are you crazy? what if the managers see?”. Oops. Not so secretly happy about it. Now he walks around the dorms shirtless after a romp with you in the sheets just so he can show off a bit.

END.

a/n: short lil thang to get back into the swing of things after everything that went down today. Good lord… thinking about getting two requests out tonight to make up for deleting last nights :( also reminder that requests are open for 100 follower event!! anyways, hope you enjoy! xx - princess

taglist: @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (fill out form or dm to be added)

[fawnindawn]

the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)

Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff

masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!

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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."

"I told you, I know nothing, and even if I did- patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.

Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.

Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.

Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.

_

It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had snuck into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence.

Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.

"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."

Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they end up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from its bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.

Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?

You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.

The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.

"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.

He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.

"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."

With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.

"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.

You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.

You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.

"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.

After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."

You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.

You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.

"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"

You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.

Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"

He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.

You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.

His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.

"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."

Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.

Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.

You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"

He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."

He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."

You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"

You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.

"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."

"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"

"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.

"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."

"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."

"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."

"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."

Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.

"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."

Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.

"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar on my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.

You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."

"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."

He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.

You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.

"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."

"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."

Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?

Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.

"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.

"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”

He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.

"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."

He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."

You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."

He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"

"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."

"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."

"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"

"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.

"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."

"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."

You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"

He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

_

"What are you smiling about?"

You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.

"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."

"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."

He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."

You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.

"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."

He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."

You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.

a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.

taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[nathaslosthershit]

Teen Dad (OP81)

(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)

Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids

Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.

“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.

“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 

“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 

“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 

He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 

Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 

“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.

“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.

After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others

oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.

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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!

[confessionbrain-writings]

Trouble - Benny Cross

Summary: As promised, Benny waits for you after your shift to take you on a ride.

Pairing: Benny Cross x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smutty content, unprotected p in v

A/N: So first of all, thank you for the love on Rules. I suggest you read that part first, before reading this. Without further ado, here is part two. English isn’t my mother tongue so apologies for typos or mistakes. I do hope you enjoy! 🧡

Word count: approx 2,6k

The warmth of his palm seeped through your jeans into your skin, and as he started to draw small circles with his thumb, you were gone. You wanted him. And you wanted him badly. You scraped your throat and called his name. “Benny?” He tilted his head slightly, indicating he was listening. “Know that I really like this. Riding with you, right?” You asked and heard the frown in his voice when he replied. “But?” “But right now, I want you to take me home, so I can take you on a ride.”  A strangled noise escaped his throat as he squeezed your leg again. “Y’gonna be the death ‘f’me, sweetheart.”

Today was the busiest day ever. A lot of folks came to the diner during the day for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Due to a shortage of staff, you’ve been running around all over the place, trying to get everything to everyone on time. You didn’t have time for a break or even think about your conversation with Benny that morning. 

When the last customer left the diner, Mary locked the front door, flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and let out a heavy sigh, before making her way to you and opened up her arms. “Come ‘ere my gift from God.”

An exhausted smile adorned your face at the compliment, and you happily entered her warm hug. Weariness weighing into the both of you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you the last couple days.” She said. “Thank you, my dear.”

Leaning back, you grabbed her arms and squeezed them affectionately as Mary continued. “I have some news. My sisters are coming over for two weeks and they volunteered to help me out. So I want to give us both the weekend off, so we can recharge ourselves. Whatcha say about that?”

You opened your mouth, but the thought of having the weekend off caught you by surprise. A few days off? Goodness! Finally, time to catch up on some sleep.

“That sounds… lovely.” You beamed. “Thanks, Mary!”

“No, thank you!” She chimed and booped your nose. “If y’wanna finish the tables, I’ll take care of the garbage and then call it a night.”

Nodding your response, you started to wipe down the last tables. The thought of being in your bed within a half hour had never felt so good. You would definitely sleep late tomorrow and then—

“Honey?” Mary’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Yeah, Mary?” You replied as you walked over to the sink to clean the cloth and wash your hands. Mary frowned and crossed her arms while looking between the backdoor and you. Feeling an uneasy flutter in your stomach, you walked up to her.

“Mary, what’s wrong?” You asked firmly.

She sighed before answering. “There is a biker outside. His name ’s Benny. Told me he’s waitin’ for ya. But wouldn’t be surprised ‘f his second name is Trouble.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and mentally slapped your forehead. Benny was waiting for you outside. Due to the chaos, you totally forgot about him, but with the mention of his name it was like a wave of adrenaline washed over you, making you forget about the exhaustion in your bones. 

A knowing smirk appeared on Mary’s face when she saw your shocked expression, you being too tired to control it. She stepped forward and cupped your face.

“I’m not blind, girl, and I know that look. Also, Benny isn’t hard on the eyes, now is he?”

“Mary, I—“

“Shh, dear,” She patted your cheeks. “All I can say is, be careful. But most importantly, have fun.”

Your eyes widened at her words. Was she serious right now?

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” she shushed and gave you a playful shove towards the backdoor. “I’ve been young too. Now go!”

—

You were greeted by the cool evening air, the breeze lifting a few strands of your hair, making them dance around your face. You’d quickly changed into a light denim jeans and black top before stepping outside, and adjusted the deep-brown jacket around your shoulders before you spotted Benny. And gosh, the sight of him made your heart beat like crazy. He looked even more attractive than you remembered. 

He was leaning casually against his bike, while taking a drag from his cigarette. As you made your way to him, his eyes focused on you and let them roam shamelessly over your body. And you would’ve lied if it didn’t add something to the pleasant flutters in your stomach.

“Hi.” You greeted him and a grin spread on his face. He released a breath of smoke and stared at you just like he did this morning. Inside you were trembling, but you forced yourself to keep your ground, trying to look cool and unbothered.  

“Hi.” He replied and crushed the cigarette bud under his boot. “Y’look stunnin’.”

Was it possible for him to see your heart beat furiously against your ribcage? Cause it definitely felt like it.

You hummed at his compliment, but didn’t respond to him, but asked instead, “Is it fast?”

Benny followed your gaze to his bike and tilted his head. “Wanna find out?” Without waiting for your reply, he sat himself down and kick-started the motor in one go. Well, add that to the list of kinks, because that was hot as hell.

You breathed out through your nose and took place behind him, your legs bracketing his frame.

“Hold on t’me, sweetheart.” He told you over his shoulder, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Well, he didn’t need to tell you twice. You bit your lip and let your hands roam over his sides, taking your time so you could feel him out, before ending at his stomach. And heavens above, what did this man feel good. 

Benny smiled and shook his head while muttering ‘trouble’, probably not expecting you being this bold. He petted your hands, but left them where they were.

“Don’t let go f’me.”

Before you could reply, he took off. And damn, it was fast. You’ve never been on a bike and the speed caught you off guard. Out of reflex you tightened your grip, pressing yourself firmly against his back and you could’ve sworn he let out a satisfied hum. 

—

The town passed by in a blur. Benny didn’t care about the red lights, since he just ran straight through them. Usually you would’ve said something about it, but it was late and there was practically no one on the road. Besides that, this new experience was way too exhilarating. 

Adrenaline pumped through your veins. The wind yanking your hair from your face and tears started to form in your eyes. Especially after you arrived on the open road. Benny sped up, which earned him a tiny yelp from you as you gripped him harder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him smirk. Mentally, you shook your head. Show-off. 

—

Time passed - or more like, flew - by and you started to get used to the speed and the fact that you sat on a motorcycle behind a handsome man. You embraced the feeling of the bike beneath you, the warm and soft back of Benny against your breasts. Feeling a tingle low in your stomach, you adjusted your hands a bit, so one hand was on his lower stomach and the other above it, feeling how his chest rose and fell as he breathed. 

You started to feel bold and added some pressure, feeling the contours of him even better, making you swoon over him. A small grumble escaped Benny, and you suddenly felt his left palm on your knee. The warmth of his palm seeped through your jeans into your skin, and as he started to draw small circles with his thumb, you were gone. You wanted him. And you wanted him badly.

You scraped your throat and called his name. “Benny?”

He tilted his head slightly, indicating he was listening.

“Know that I really like this. Riding with you, right?” You asked and heard the frown in his voice when he replied. “But?”

“But right now, I want you to take me home, so I can take you on a ride.” 

A strangled noise escaped his throat as he squeezed your leg again. “Y’gonna be the death ‘f’me, sweetheart.”

—

Just a few seconds passed between getting off the bike, to the moment Benny had kicked the front door shut, and had you pressed against it. Placing his palm next to your head, leaning in, and grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 

Without wasting another second, he hungrily pressed his lips against yours. You fisted his shirt and pulled him in. The build-up tension from before and on the ride were taking over. Both of your hands grabbed, stroked and squeezed each other. Tearing at each others clothes, while your lips met over and over again. And boy oh boy, what was he a good kisser.

Blindly your hands cascaded over his chest to unbuckle his belt, only breaking the kiss so Benny could take off his shirt, while you kicked off your shoes. Benny taking your shirt off right after as he kicked off his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

The both of you panted heavily, taking a split moment to admire each other. It was very clear that Benny was aroused and the sight of him added even more to the already throbbing pulse between your legs. 

You placed your hands on his pecs, feeling how his heart was also hammering, and guided him to the couch. The back of his knees met the seating, and before he even completely sat down, you were onto his lap. His hands found the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh which subtracted a moan from you.

Benny’s hand snaked to your nape, treading his fingers through your roots and tugged. Another moan escaped you, while meeting his darkened gaze. He dragged his nose along your cheek to your neck where he kissed you just below your ear. A sudden bursts of goosebumps broke out all over your skin and you gripped his shoulders, the sensation making your gasp out his name.

“Benny!”

He chuckled and swiftly unhooked your bra, leaning back a bit so he could admire you. His lust-filled eyes took you in, his mouth slightly agape and looked back at your face, shaking his head lightly. Not believing how incredibly you looked and felt on him.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer so he could close his lips around your nipple. You dug your nails into the skin of his biceps, leaving small crescents from the exploding sensation when he flicked his tongue over the erected bud, licking and sucking. It was like Benny had you under his spell. Your hips started to grind onto him, wanting more, more and more.

Your hands made their way down, stroking his hard cock over his boxer, electing a groan from him. “Oh, baby,” he said huskily. “Y’re so beautiful.”

The words set your skin aflame. “I want you so bad, Benny.” You whispered and slid your hand under the fabric, skin meeting skin. It was like something within Benny snapped, because before you knew it, his boxers were off and he dragged you forward, so you were grinding on him directly. The only boundary between you were your panties. 

“Y’have no idea how bad I want you.” he replied and snaked his hand between the two of you. A desperate moan left you as he stroked your throbbing clit through your panties and you bucked your hips at him. 

“Y’ready, baby?” 

“Please!” You begged, feeling like you were about to jump out of your skin. He skillfully moved your panties to the side, not wanting to waste any more time to get them off, and dragged his fingers along your wetness. You were definitely ready.

Benny replaced his fingers with his cock, feeling the tip of him pressing against your entrance. You lifted your hips and looked at him. His intense gaze locking you in as you slowly sank down.

His brows furrowed as you sank lower, reveling in the sensation. Your eyes fluttered close as a wave of pleasure washed over you. 

“Eyes on me.” He breathed, guiding you up and then down again. A desperate moan bubbled out of your throat as you started to ride him, while trying to hold his gaze, but he felt so good that you couldn’t help but let them close for a second.

You jumped a bit when you felt Benny’s broad palm firmly grabbing your jaw. “I said, eyes on me.” He repeated and somehow his voice got even lower. A burst of pleasure flooded you at the dominance in his voice. Snapping your attention completely to him. 

Numbly you nodded at him and started to move your hips, your hands found their way on his shoulders for leverage. You shuddered when you felt his hands move down your waist, resting them there and supporting you as you kept rolling your hips, feeling him in all the right spots. 

The sounds of slapping skin and moans filled the room as you upped your pace. You felt his grip tightening, guiding you down on him with every buck of your hips. Pushing all the way in and out. All the while, while holding his gaze. Blue, lustful eyes held you under his spell, feeling like he could look right into your soul. 

And the noises he made.. they almost felt sinful. You’ve shared the bed with men before, but most of them weren’t that vocal, but Benny on the other hand.. He didn’t hold back the grunts and moans as you rode him so deliciously. Only that could’ve send you over the edge.

Slowly your legs started to tremble, both from pleasure and exertion. You moved your hands back to his neck, grabbing his hair at the base and leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his ear. “You fuck me so good, Benny” you said and emphasized your words with pressing your lips at the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Benny cursed at your words and the way your lips felt, feeling you suck his skin.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, relieving some pressure from your straining legs and started to take over the pace. You held him tight and couldn’t stop the moans and pleas leaving your lips as he started to pound into you at a feral pace. Benny fucked you so good, it made your toes curl.

The new position electing even more pleasure from you. With every thrust his pubic bone met your clit, making pleasure pound through your veins. It didn’t take you long at all and just before you came, Benny pulled your head back, so he could look at you.

You really tried your best to keep your eyes open, but when your orgasm washed over you, you couldn’t help but close them. Reveling in the intense sensations as you threw your head back and moaned out his name in ecstasy. 

His grip returned to your waist, thrusting through your orgasm and with a few strokes he grunted out your name. Your eyes snapped open and you were just in time to witness how his face displayed his own pleasure. His jaw unclenched, mouth open and his sweat-covered brows bunching together. Feeling how his nails dug into your skin, which you could swear would leave some marks later on, but you couldn’t care less, and lifted you up, pulling out just in time before he came. 

Your whole body tingled and you let out a satisfied hum. Benny’s attention was back on you, and you watched how your sex-drunk smile was mirrored onto his face. 

A comfortable silence stretched between you. Benny reached out and tucked a string of hair behind your ear. The gentle gesture made you shiver.

“What y’re doin’ this weekend, sweetheart?” Benny broke the silence and licked his lips. The question was so casual, almost making you forget you were on his lap, naked and sticky with cum and sweat. 

“Actually, I have the weekend off. So I’m free.”

“Good,” he started and let his eyes roam over you again, before continueing. “Y’wanna spend it with me? Let me take you for ‘nother ride?”

A smile tugged at your lips, leaning forward. “I like that, Benny.” You whispered and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I like that a lot.”

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

[jakexneytiri]

Hi, I can request a family life with husband! neteyam x reader, after 2 movies, please long if you agree

hii!!

you sure can! this was so cute to write and i’m in love with dad!neteyam. i hope this is what you had in mind, anon!<3

forever & always

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

it’s been ten years since you and your husband first mated. neteyam was madly in love with you, that love only growing stronger over the years. he could never get enough of you, never keep his hands off of you. you have four children to prove it, and you’re pregnant with your fifth.

neteyam arranged an entire ceremony to be held tonight for your anniversary. the clan spent the entire day preparing, harvesting fruits, hanging bioluminescent plants for light, and gathering old twigs and dead plants to be used for the main fire.

in your hut, things were absolute chaos. you were waiting for neteyam to return home, he had “a few more things to set up” for the party. your children couldn’t contain themselves, excitedly running around your shared hut readying themselves for the evening.

your oldest, tsantu, you hardly ever had to worry about. he was very independent, and rarely asked for your assistance. he was all ready for the ceremony, wearing his special arm cuff he crafted, with neteyam’s help.

“mom, do you need help?”

“would you please help your brother with his necklace? that would be a big help.” you place a kiss on the top of his head, as he nods and goes to help his brother.

your second born, se’ayl, was calm and reserved like her older brother. however, she was sassy from time to time, with both you and neteyam. she definitely picked up the habit from aunt kiri, who she adored.

“se’ayl? do you have your feathers on yet?” you ask, glancing over at her.

“ugh, do i have to wear those?” she groans, taking a deep breath in just to sigh it out.

“yes, flower. your father wants everyone to wear them tonight. aunty kiri will be wearing hers, too.” you say in an excited tone, hoping it will cheer her up.

“really? she is??” excitement lights up on her face, as she quickly goes to change into them.

your third, txonuk, was your occasionally rebellious child, sometimes outspoken, making neteyam be the bad guy when he needed to be punished, but you loved him nonetheless.

“let’s see your necklace, txonuk!” you say excited, kneeling down to take a look.

he lifts his chin upwards, so you can get a good look at the newly placed necklace.

“what a very handsome young man you are.” you say, as he giggles.

“mama, i’m not a man, i’m just a boy!” he yells, waving his arms around dramatically.

“oh, forgive me! what a very handsome young boy you are.” he wraps his arms around your leg, giggling into it.

“mama! mama!” nima interrupts, holding her new feathers up to your face. “these pwease!”

nima, your youngest, was one of the main reasons you lost sleep at night. she’s very shy around people she doesn’t know, but very comfortable with her siblings. she finds comfort in you and neteyam, to her, you both are her sun and moon. you often find her in the middle of the night curled up in between you and neteyam, from the “bad dreams” she has. (she has bad dreams almost every night. it’s just an excuse to be closer to you both).

“these ones?” you question, holding them up. “they’re very pretty, little love. do you need help putting them on?”

“noooo! i do it!” she giggles as she runs off to the other side of the hut.

just then, the flap to your hut opened, revealing your beloved husband.

“iiiiiiiit’s dad!” neteyam says, causing all four children to burst into a fit of giggles.

“where are my five wonderful children?” he asks, looking around the hut even though they’ve all ran right to his feet, apart from nima.

txonuk gives a confused look to both se’ayl and tsantu. whispering, he asks “five? but, there’s only…” and he begins counting on his fingers. “there’s only 4 of us!”

tsantu shakes his head, whispering back “he’s talking about the baby in momma’s belly, skxawng.”

“hmmmm, one!” neteyam says, placing a kiss to tsantu’s head.

“and there’s two!” kissing the top of se’ayl’s head.

“dad! dad i’m right here!” txonuk says, pointing to himself.

“oh, there’s three!” neteyam chuckles as he places a kiss to txonuk’s head.

“now, where’s my number four?”

nima runs over, her arm stuck in the air from her necklace being on wrong.

“daddy, i’m stuck!” she pouts, her little eyes filling with tears.

neteyam kneels, fixing her necklace and freeing her arm, kissing the top of her head.

“there’s my #4. no need for tears, babygirl. are those new feathers?”

she giggles, and squeals “yes!” before running away.

glancing over to you now, neteyam stands, arms open wide.

“looking for #5?” you question, moving your swollen belly closer to his grasp.

“ah, my #5.” he kisses your belly gently, before snaking his arms around your waist, lips to your ear as he says

“hi, mama. looking beautiful, as always.”

“hi.” you smile, kissing your mate, which earns a collective “ewwwww!” from your children.

you both laugh, as neteyam covers your face in kisses. forehead, cheeks, chin, neck, ears, anywhere he could reach, he’d kiss.

“daddy, that’s GWOSS!” nima shouts, covering her eyes.

“well, good thing aunty kiri, *kiss* uncle lo’ak, *kiss* and aunty tuk tuk *kiss* are waiting outside for you four, *kiss* because i have a loooot more *kiss* kisses for *kiss* mama!” he says, kissing you again, chuckling against your skin.

they squeal and run out of the hut, to be met with their favorite aunts and uncle. you stand in the doorway of your hut, neteyam’ standing behind you as one arm is wrapped around your waist, the other holding the flap to your hut open.

“sooo, are you guys coming with us now or-“ lo’ak asks, just to be cut off by neteyam.

“no. you go ahead, we’ll be there soon.”

kiri takes se’ayl’s hand, while tuk takes nima’s, as they start to head to the celebration. lo’ak takes tsantu’s in one, and txonuk’s in the other.

lo’ak rolls his eyes, muttering “keep it in your loincloth, would ya.”

although he mumbled, neteyam still heard him.

“have you SEEN my mate? how on pandora would i do that?”

lo’ak groans, walking away, yelling “get a room, you two!”

“we’re trying!!” neteyam yells back before closing the flap to your hut.

[ma1dita]

trouble always finds me

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.7k 

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. Luke’s perspective on trouble & how they first met! think trouble’s origin story (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

warnings: none, fluff? Mr. D being a clueless dad lol also guys they’re 14 here

a/n: welcome back to the trouble!verse hehe i was inspired by Mr. D being a bit of a jerk to Percy so that the kid doesn’t off himself. Similar concept but with Luke after he first gets to camp— another version for why trouble!reader calls him angelface coming soon

(posted 1/19/24, erm unedited and not beta’d so forgive me in advance)

—

You were always trouble, Luke knew that from the day he met you. 

Walking into Camp Half-Blood, worn out and weary after days of trying to not become harpy food, his arm was slung protectively over Annabeth’s shoulder as they were led onto the campgrounds. So many pity-filled eyes were focused on them after hearing what happened to Thalia, but the camp seemed promising, filled with other demigods who can resonate with what they’ve experienced. Luke thought it was too good to be true, but anything’s better in comparison to the streets they came from. You, however, looked at them in interest from afar, a playful expression on a pretty face watching their every move like him and Annie were shiny new toys to play with.

He was so sure something was off with you. 

Had to be, from the deranged glimmer in your eye that would appear when something bad would happen at Camp. He’d seen it in action a couple of times before you set your sights on him— setting off fireworks during capture the flag, replacing salt with sugar in the kitchens, cutting Mr. D’s hair in his sleep; all of this causing campers and staff alike to run amok and figure out who to penalize. Each time he’d find you enjoying how it all played out, excitement brimming on the cusp of revealing yourself as the culprit as he watched you bite your tongue. But as a mischievous kid himself, he wondered why you hid it. You preferred to orchestrate the show, to make a spectacle for your personal entertainment, and with a smile too soft to be considered guilty, you were a convincing actress. 

The other campers in 11 told him you’d been unclaimed for half a year now, keeping to yourself and making a safe haven within the busy cabin. You were a klutz to say the least, bringing chaos to Camp Half-Blood with a cool disposition, and you hardly seemed interested the one time Luke tried to say hi as he took the bunk next to yours. 

So why the hell wouldn’t you lay off of him?

At first it was small, shoulder bumps and raised eyebrows whenever he piped up in a conversation. That, he could deal with. Luke’s a tough guy, having gone through more than a typical 14-year old would. 

But then it just got annoying.

Glitter in his shampoo, his laundry load dyed purple, and shoelaces knotted together to make him stumble— things meant to be more of an inconvenience rather than an actual problem. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to tell you. No one wants to be the new kid creating trouble, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

Maybe you were a Hermes kid like him, but of that, Luke wasn’t so easily convinced—months of living in 11 would mean you’d learn all of the tricks of the trade, so it couldn’t automatically mean that you were related (a part of him also hoped you weren’t be half-siblings, or else the fact he couldn’t stop thinking of you would be slightly awkward). Perhaps a child of Apollo? When you weren’t being difficult, he’s seen you sprinkled in sunlight, usually humming a tune under your breath. Yesterday it was a song from the Sound of Music, and though he only remembers bits of a memory from a movie night with his mom years ago, he put his combat gear on slower just to hear you finish the song. 

Whatever you were, it was bound to be troublesome.

—

At this point in life, Luke hasn’t had many comforts while on the run. To him there’s no such thing as action without reason, without meaning.  Five years of running and not looking back makes this son of Hermes realize that he hasn’t had a chance to take a breath until he got here. It’s hard to let down your guard when you’re always supposed to be keeping watch.

He wriggles under his covers trying to relax himself before bed, purple socks sticking out of the scrappy hand-me-down blanket, and he hears a small giggle from the bed next to his. Luke shifts his weight onto his side, eyes darting to your direction in the quiet of the dark cabin.

“Nice socks.”

He blinks. Were you talking to him? His toes wiggle playfully, prompting more of your melodious laughter as he chews at his lip before he responds.

“Guess I’m getting used to them.”

“You’re getting used to a lot of things around here. That’s good,” you whisper, and thinks he can see you concocting something sinister in that brain of yours—he’s on the edge of the mattress hanging onto your every word as he realizes this is the most you’ve spoken to him.

“You did this. Why?” he says, more of a statement than a question. Why would you go out of your way for someone like him?

“Are you mad about it? Luke, right?” you mutter, a calm expression on your face shrouded in moonlight, and for a second he wonders if you actually don’t know his name until he notices the upwards quirk of your lip. 

Luke catches himself then, and the realization hits him like a blow to the chest— he’s not angry at all. If anything, he hasn’t had the time to feel anything negative with the antics you’ve been pulling. You’ve proven to be quite the distraction to his circumstances, and he can’t remember the last time he’s thought about Thalia or his mom since he got here. The melancholy falls on his countenance like a better-fitting blanket than the one he has on, and your words pull him from his thoughts before they can suffocate him again.

“Sorry about your sister. I lost someone right before I got here too. My mom.” 

This, he can tell, is not acting. Your eyes flicker to a polaroid strapped in the space underneath the top bunk above your head, two blurry figures huddled together in a memory.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what to say. In the silence that follows, he swallows audibly. Everyone’s been worried about Annabeth, including himself that he hadn’t even thought of his own emotions being on display for everyone to see. Luke never thought you of all people would notice.

You shrug, “S’not your fault. I know when people are acting though. If you know I’m the one who’s been starting shit, why haven’t you told anyone?”

Luke almost laughs at that, a rough exhale leaving his lungs as he watches your hands clutch your quilt.

“It’s pretty entertaining, I guess. You’re annoying, but I don’t mind it. Kept my mind off of things.”

He watches you smile in the shadows now, and it shines—all lips, teeth, and sheer mirth that makes his chest feel a little lighter. A real smile from you, one that doesn’t hide your true intentions.

“I’m glad. Mine too.” 

The next thing you do confuses him further, but from what he’s gathered you’re always full of surprises. You chuck your quilt across the space between your bunks, and the end of it smacks him in the face as he grunts.

“Here. Keep it,” you chuckle a bit loudly, the both of you hearing a Shhhhh… from somewhere in the dark cabin.

“What… Why? Are we friends now?” Luke mumbles jokingly, inhaling the soft scent of berries and fresh linen. His purple laundry load smelled like this too.

“No.”

“Then why are you giving me your stuff?” he says, but still curls up underneath the handmade quilt stitched from memories of a past life, of motherly love and gentle hands. He doesn’t have anything like this, so he settles into this feeling of comfort instead, even if it wasn’t his memory to hold. You go quiet at the sight of him, eyes fluttering and chin tucked into the pink and purple fabric, and he looks as soft as a normal 14 year old boy should.

“It’s getting boring in here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think,” you mumble, turning away and shutting your eyes before he can say anything else.

—

The next day, you get caught putting a month’s supply of bubble bath into the lake, but Luke’s convinced you did it on purpose. All of camp is standing on the shore, watching you wave at them from a river tube as Chiron and Mr. D yell at you in exasperation—finally revealing yourself as the troublemaker they’ve been searching for.

“Get on the beach this instant, young lady! You have no idea how much trouble you’ve put us through!” Mr. D’s voice echoes across the lake, his immortal form almost filtering through his frustration before you laugh in his face, unthreatened by the Olympian.

“Good thing I get it from you. Hello, dad!”

Jaws drop as everyone turns to look at Mr. D, the realization hitting his face as he points at you, his brain moving a mile a minute. Though you resemble your mother, your actions are all him. You revel in the grand reaction, looking up to see a purple thyrsus surrounded by grape leaves float over your head.

“Nice outfit, kid. I don’t think purple is your color. She do that to you too?” Mr. D notes Luke’s wine colored cargos and socks clashing against the harsh orange of his shirt as he pushes past him, scratching his head at the idea of another kid. Poor guy said two was the limit in a lifetime and he gets a grinning teenage girl who dares him to do something about it. He hasn’t raised a lot of girls….

“I don’t know. I guess trouble always seems to find me,” Luke laughs lightly, watching kids of all ages jump into the bubbly lake water happily. The glowing ember of his eyes are relaxed for the first time in a while— an inviting flame catching your own as you stare at him from across the sudsy water. Trouble, he thinks, a smile settling onto his face—how fitting.

He’s spent a lot of time running. But perhaps this time, he’s finding reasons to want to stay.

—

"After all, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal." - Sylvia Plath

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[planet-marz1]

Our Little Sheep

Summary: You and Joel celebrate christmas with your many children Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~4.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, implied age gap(not specified), reader is able to get pregnant, jackson!joel, peepaw!joel(really peepaw), mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of childbirth (nothing graphic), brief mentions of breastfeeding (again, nothing graphic) Lots of fluff & cuteness, Joel being a cute girl dad™, this seems like it should be a crackfic, but I promise It's so wholesome

A/N: Ok so this fic idea was born out of my cold medicine induced haze, so bear with me here guys. It's just a silly little fic, not meant to be taken seriously at all, and It's the most fun I've had writing in a bit, so I hope you enjoy reading! Just a little clarity here, the kids' ages range from 0 to 9. I know it gets all confusing here, so I am welcome to provide any further clarity if anyone needs it! A huge thank you to @catchallfangirl for helping with the naming of all of these gremlins & with the constant encouragement ❤️ Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading!

lovely dividers by @pamasaur

| main masterlist | ao3 link | follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

You open your eyes slightly, squinting them. Joel sleeps peacefully next to you, his breaths even and steady. Burrowing yourself further under the blankets, you scoot closer to him, your head on his chest and intertwining your legs with his. You run your fingers through the curls of his now, fully gray hair.

Slight whines start to fill the room, and you lift your head up and glance over your shoulder to peek into the bassinet next to your side of the bed. Joel had been up with the baby all night after you two had finished wrapping up the gifts for the other kids. So, you groggily sit up in bed, reaching over to pick up the tiny little infant.

“Shhh, It’s alright, little one.” You whisper quietly, trying to calm him. After a few attempts to shush him, it’s still not working. He’s probably hungry, you figure. Lifting your shirt, you help him latch onto your breast, and he finally calms. You sigh quietly with relief. It’s all a part of the process, you try to remind yourself. Little baby Joelseph had only been born a few weeks ago. No, his name isn’t actually Joelseph. Simply a nickname given to him by his many older sisters when you had been pregnant with him. It started as a cute joke, but sure enough he came into the world, and no one was able to call him by his proper name. Named after his father, but considering the chaos of your family, the nickname is simply just another thing that you don’t bother to fight to keep the peace in the house.

The early hours of the morning are usually the small period of time when the house is completely silent. Every other waking minute is filled with the sounds of the kids, either giggling, or fighting with each other over something. Though, silence isn’t always a good thing. You’ll never forget the time the kids got into the kitchen cupboards and practically wreaked havoc in the kitchen while you were outside tending to the sheep.

Sure enough, you hear the trampling of footsteps coming down the hallway. No matter how chaotic it may be, this is your favorite part of the day. Getting to start each day greeted by all of your beautiful children, reminding you of why you are so lucky. You softly graze your fingers over the baby’s hair.

“I think your sisters are here, little guy,” You chuckle softly. The doorknob jiggles a bit. Before all of your daughters begin to spill into your bedroom, all eleven of them. Yes, eleven. You and Joel had, admittedly, gotten out of control in that department.

You and Joel had met when he had returned to Jackson in the spring with Ellie in tow. It had been an immediate connection, quite literally. Hooking up one night in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison, which is what led to your firstborn, Emilie. The pregnancy had come as a shock, but you and Joel were excited nonetheless.

A chorus of variations of “Mom,” or “Mommy,” begin to fill the room, and you try to shush the girls, reminding them of their little brother. “Ok, girls, I know that you’re excited to get downstairs to all of your gifts, but you’ve got to settle down a bit, alright?” You whisper gently. Finally, they all nod in understanding. The calm is short-lived, though. Jane and Jules, the cutest, but menacing pair of instigators, hop on to your bed, shaking Joel’s shoulder, trying to wake their father.

They were your fourth pregnancy, which was by far the most difficult one you had ever experienced. Constant discomfort, and sleepless nights from the relentless kicking and movement from them. It wasn’t the first time you had been pregnant with twins, but It had gone nothing like you had expected it to.

Joel, though typically a light sleeper, is particularly hard to wake after a night with no sleep, hence why you’d opted on letting him sleep in. The two of them, each on one side of him, lean in close to his face, leaving little room for personal space. “Daddy.” Jules says quietly, Jane keeping a close watch.

Joel peeks one eye open, a bit startled at first at the heavy breathing from the two girls so close to his face, but the confused expression on his face is quickly replaced by a tired grin. As soon as all the girls spot that their father has woken up, they all pile onto your bed, excitedly squealing and giggling. Luckily, little baby Joelseph had already been lulled into a deep sleep after he finished nursing. Even if he hadn’t, you're pretty sure the few short weeks he’s been in the world, he’s already used to the constant noise and chaos from his older sisters.

Joel sits up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and tries to wrap his arm as many of them as humanly possible.

“When can we open our presents, daddy?” Tiny little Aurora questions impatiently. This is the first year she’s been able to fully understand the concept of Christmas, and all the gift giving. So, understandably, she is ecstatic for all the festivities of the day. She crawls into his lap, after attempting to clamber over all of her sisters in the way. Joel scratches at the scruff of his beard, and lifts her into his lap.

“How about we all eat breakfast first, sweetheart, then you all can tear into your gifts.” He says lowly, his voice still laced with sleep. “Sound like a plan?” He asks. The girls all nod in agreement.

You slowly stand up from the bed, still cradling baby Joelseph in your arms. Walking towards the door, you gesture for the girls to do the same. They all climb off of the bed, and without fail, the house is once again filled with chaos. All eleven of them racing out of your bedroom, and down the staircase to the kitchen.

Joel meets you by the doorway, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” You tease him. “Sleep well?”

“Just like usual, darling.” He kisses you again, this time placing kisses all over your face, and down your neck, before you place your hand gently on his chest stopping him from going any further.

“Not so fast, old man.” you chuckle softly. “We don’t need another one of these.” you say, gesturing down to the baby bundled up in your arms.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, huh?” He teases, and you just shake your head. 

“You say that because you aren’t the one who has to push them out.”

“We should probably get downstairs before they get into stuff that they shouldn’t be” You murmur, and Joel quietly nods in agreement.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you make your way into the dining room. Joel follows you, his hand brushing against the small of your back.

You and Joel enter the dining room, and expectedly the room is already filled with screaming and chaos. Alive with the energy of your daughters, and the two mischievous kittens, Ginny and Joel, weaving in and out of the chaos. 

Emilie, your oldest, is trying to settle an argument between Lacy and Lily, your first set of twins. Nothing new in your household, nearly every morning, no matter how many times you have to tell them that every seat is the same, the kids insist on fighting on who sits where, who sits next to whom. It’s exhausting, but you can’t help but smile at the chaos unfolding before you-it’s simply the routine of your everyday life.

Emilie, with her stern expression, finally manages to resolve the seating dispute between Lacy and Lily. You glance at Joel, and he chuckles, a knowing look passing between you. The girls quickly settle into their chairs, the anticipation of Christmas morning evident in their sparkling eyes. As you take your seat at the head of the table, Joel sits beside you, and the cacophony gradually subsides. Little Aurora, perched on Joel’s lap, swings her legs excitedly, eager to dive into the festivities.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in!” you announce with a smile, and the room erupts in cheers. The aroma of the freshly cooked breakfast wafts through the air as the kids eagerly serve themselves.

Emilie diligently helps the younger ones with their breakfast. She occasionally steals glances at the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Lacy and Lily are engaged in animated conversation, their excitement palpable. Daisy can’t stop giggling at something Theo whispered in her ear. The second set of twins, Jane and Jules, sit side by side, already plotting mischief as they eye the presents.

Willow, with her big curious eyes, is inspecting her plate with utmost concentration, trying to decide which part of her breakfast to tackle first.

In the midst of the laughter and chatter, you catch Joel’s eye. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent acknowledgement of the beautiful chaos that is your family. His gaze is filled with gratitude, and you can’t help but feel the same.

As the kids enjoy their breakfast, you steal a moment with Joel. “Can you believe how fast they're growing?” you murmur, your eyes dancing with a mixture of love and exhaustion.

Joel leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking around the Tipsy Bison.”

You laugh, the memory of that fateful night vivid in your mind. “Look where it led us.”

Kylie babbles incoherently as she attempts to mimic her older siblings. Aurora still sits on Joel’s lap, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festive scene, and Joel aids her with her breakfast.

Maggie sits contentedly in her high chair, fingers sticky with syrup, as she munches on a piece of a pancake you’ve carefully cut up into small pieces for her.

The kids, fueled by excitement and sugar, chatter animatedly about their plans for the day. You and Joel exchange glances, both silently reveling in the joy of parenthood. The journey hasn’t been easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

As breakfast winds down, you glance at Joel, both of you silently agreeing it’s time for the much-anticipated event of the morning.

The living room is now adorned with brightly wrapped gifts, a colorful display of the love and thoughtfulness you and Joel put into each one. The kids finish their breakfast, their eyes darting eagerly between the tree and the presents.

“Alright, kiddos, let the unwrapping begin!” Joel declares, and the room explodes with excitement. Each of their little faces lighting up with joy. 

“Okay, kiddos, let’s see what Santa brought us this year!” Joel exclaims, and the room erupts in cheers. The kids, now fueled by excitement from their furry friends and a hearty breakfast, rush to the tree, each claiming a spot around the mountain of gifts.

Emily takes charge, distributing gifts to each of her siblings with precision. Paper tears and laughter fill the air as each child discovers the treasures hidden beneath the wrapping.

Lacy and Lily eagerly tear into their presents, sharing excited glances when they unveil matching toys. Daisy clutches a doll close to her heart, and Jane and Jules giggle in delight at the surprise in their packages.

Theo, wide-eyed, unwraps a superhero action figure, and Willow discovers a fluffy stuffed animal that instantly becomes her new best friend. Kylie is overjoyed with a set of building blocks, her imagination already running wild.

Aurora claps her hands in glee as she unwraps a musical toy, and Maggie, though more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, coos happily.

Daisy twirls with a new dress, her face glowing with delight. “I’m going to wear this everyday!”

Aurora, surrounded by a pile of toys, claps her hands and points excitedly. “Look, Daddy, Mommy, so many toys!” Maggie, with a new plush toy in her tiny hands, giggles with joy. The room is filled with laughter and chatter as the kids excitedly showcase their new treasures.

Jane and Jules squeal in delight as they discover Joel curled up in the tangle of discarded wrapping paper, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Willow, with her big curious eyes, watches the kittens in fascination, occasionally reaching out to stroke their fur. Kylie bursts into giggles as Ginny playfully bats at a shiny ribbon. Aurora claps her hands in delight at the sight of the playful duo. Maggie points with chubby fingers, her face lighting up with a smile as Joel gracefully leaps onto the back of the couch.

Joel catches your eye, and you share a moment of warmth as you witness the joy on your children’s faces.

“Looks like our little fur balls are the stars of the show today.” He chuckles.

Watching as the kittens continue their playful antics. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of excitement, and the crinkling of wrapping paper.

As the chaos subsides, you lean into Joel, watching the kids with a contented smile. “Merry Christmas, Joel.” He whispers back the same sentiment, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you in the midst of the joyful storm that is your family.

The room buzzes with the joyous laughter of your children, the kittens weaving throughout the living room. As the kids continue to show off their presents, Ginny and Joel curiously inspect the colorful array of toys and trinkets scattered across the room.

Emilie, your eldest, sits by your side, flipping through her new sketchbook. “Mom, look at this! It’s perfect for my drawings. Thank you, Santa!”

Lacy and Lily, wearing their matching necklaces, approach Joel with enthusiasm. “Dad, Dad! Can Joel play with us too?” they ask, extending an invitation for the adventurous kitten to join in on their imaginative play.

Daisy twirls around in her new dress, and with a dramatic flair, she curtsies. “I’m a princess, just like in the stories!”

Jane and Jules, holding their new board game, insist on a family game night. Jules, gives you a confused look, glancing from the box, and then back up at you. “What is Boggle anyway?” 

“It’s just a word game, sweetheart, definitely an easy game to beat your dad at.” you laugh softly, shooting Joel a teasing grin.

Willow proudly shows you the fluffy stuffed animal she received. “Look Mom, It’s Fluffy! Daddy, feel how soft!” She grabs his hand to place it on the stuffed animal, and Joel enthusiastically plays along with her.

Kylie, engrossed in building her tower with the new blocks, beams with accomplishment. “It’s bigger than me, Mommy!” You smile at her gently, and give her compliments on her tower building skills.

Maggie, in her own little world, squeezes her plush toy and gurgles happily. The kittens, sensing the playful atmosphere, join in on the fun, batting at the discarded ribbons and chasing each other around the room.

Joel, still basking in the warmth of the family scene, leans over to you. “Seems like Santa knew exactly what they wanted.”

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips, ‘And the best part is seeing their faces light up with joy.”

The room is filled with laughter, the sound of wrapping paper being crinkled, and the occasional meow from Ginny and Joel. The chaos is harmonious, a melody of love and togetherness that defines your family.

The kids, their excitement undeterred, start brainstorming plans for the day–games to play, stories to tell, and perhaps a snowball fight if the weather permits. As the festivities continue, you can’t help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that fills your home–a treasure more precious than any gift under the tree.

As the kids reveled in the excitement of unwrapping their Christmas gifts, their attention turned to the chalkboard on the mantle–a poignant memorial to their older sister, Sarah. The room hushed momentarily as the children exchanged thoughtful glances, understanding the significance of the chalkboard.

The kids had put together some artwork and drawings the night before. They gather around the chalkboard, placing their artwork in front of it, creating a beautiful display of love and remembrance. The room, now adorned with their heartfelt tributes, felt infused with a sense of warmth and connection to Sarah’s memory.

Joel, watching from a distance, can't help but be moved by the sincerity and creativity of his children. The simple act of setting their drawings in front of the chalkboard transformed the mantle into a gallery of love—a tangible expression of the enduring impact Sarah's memory had on their hearts.

As the morning continued, the drawings stood as cherished tokens—a beautiful reminder that, even in the midst of joyous celebrations, the love for their sister would always hold a special place in the family's heart.

You nudge Joel gently, catching his attention. “Any Idea when Ellie, Dina, and JJ are planning to arrive?”

Joel looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to make sure all the kids are engaged in their newfound treasures. “They’re aiming to get here just in time for lunch. Should be any moment now.”

Excitement lights up on your face at the news. “The kids are going to be over the moon to see them again, and It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

Joel nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ellie’s always been good at timing. They’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, a gentle knock at the door catches your attention. You glance at Joel, both of you sharing a knowing smile. The anticipation in the room heightens as the kids, sensing something special, look toward the door with wide eyes. Moments later, the front door bursts open, and the lively chatter of Ellie and Dina fills the air. The children squeal in delight, dropping their toys and rushing toward the doorway. Ellie enters first, holding JJ’s hand, Dina follows closely behind with a warm grin on her face.

The kids shout at them in unison, enveloping the new arrivals in a sea of hugs and excitement. You and Joel stand back, watching the heartwarming reunion unfold.

Ellie, catching your eye, gives you a knowing nod. “Merry Christmas!” she says as she greets you and Joel. You welcome them with open arms, a surge of joy filling your heart. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

As the laughter and joyful chaos continue to fill the room, you can’t help but marvel at the beautiful tapestry of your family, woven together by love, shared moments, and the bonds that withstand the test of time.

Amidst the joyful commotion, you navigate through the sea of excited children, still cradling little Joelseph in your arms. Joel joins you, and together you watch as Ellie, Dina, and JJ immerse themselves in the holiday cheer.

Ellie, after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, approaches you with a playful grin.

“How’s the newest little troublemaker doing?” she asks, casting an affectionate glance at Joelseph.

You chuckle, gently rocking the sleeping baby in your arms. “He’s been an angel all morning, surprisingly.” you yawn, tiredly.

Dina joins the conversation, “He’s gotten so big since we last saw him. Mind if we steal him for a bit?”

You nod with a smile, carefully passing Joelseph over to Dina. The little one stirs for a moment, but settles back into a peaceful slumber in Dina’s arms. “He’s all yours.’

The room continues to buzz with giggles and Ellie, Dina, and JJ become a seamless part of the festivities. The kids eagerly show them their new toys, and soon, the kittens, Ginny and Joel join the playful parade.

As the day unfolds, the house becomes a vibrant canvas, painted with the hues of love and togetherness. Joel, now with Aurora on his shoulders, navigates through the lively crowd. You find a quiet moment with Ellie, who is holding Joelseph with a tender smile.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie remarks, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and affection. “Feels like just yesterday you were dealing with my teenage antics.”

You laugh, remembering those not-so-distant days. “Time flies, doesn’t it? Now look at us, and you, with a little family of your own.”

Ellie glances around the room, the sparkle of the holiday lights reflecting in her eyes. “Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend Christmas. And look at Joel, still being the heart and soul of this chaos.”

You follow her gaze to Joel, who is now surrounded by a group of kids, listening intently to one of Jane and Jules’ stories. The love in his eyes is evident as he shares in their laughter and mischief.

Ellie looks back at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You both did an amazing job. I’m proud to be part of this.”

And in that moment, as the laughter and warmth of your family envelop you, you couldn’t agree more. This Christmas, with all its magic, has woven another chapter into the rich tapestry of your lives–a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the cherished moments that make your family truly extraordinary.

As the festivities continue, Ellie, still cradling Joelseph, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Joel. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she approaches Joel, who’s now attempting to disentangle himself from a knot of kids.

“Hey, old man,” Ellie quips, giving Joel a playful nudge. “You holding up okay with all these little rascals running around?”

Joel chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in check. You’ll find out soon enough, Ellie. Parenthood’s no joke.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Joelseph. “You’re the expert now, huh? It took you guys long enough to figure out the secret recipe for a baby boy.”

Joel grumbles and feigns offense. “Well, it’s not like we had a manual.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who needed a football team's worth of daughters before finally getting a son.”

You join in on the banter, giving Joel an amused smile. “Took a bit of trial and error, but look at our charming little Joelseph now.”

Ellie leans in, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. “Not bad for an old guy, huh, kiddo?” she cooed, earning a content gurgle from the baby.

As the day of joyful chaos begin to wind down, the once lively house now settles into a more serene atmosphere. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow over the living room as the laughter of the children gradually transforms into quiet giggles and yawns.

You and Joel, tired but content, herd the kids upstairs for their bedtime routine. The kittens, Ginny and Joel, follow along, their playful antics slowing down as they, too, sensing the impending calm.

“Alright kiddos, time for bed.” Joel announces, his tone gentle but firm as he ushers the kids into their respective rooms.

The procession of bedtime rituals unfold–one by one, teeth are brushed, pajamas are put on, and stories are read. The younger ones nestle into their beds, eyelids growing heavy with the sweet fatigue of a day filled with excitement.

As you check on each child, offering goodnight kisses and tucking them in, Joel moves gracefully through the house, turning off the twinkling lights and closing curtains. The house seems to exhale, the echoes of joyous laughter replaced by the hushed whispers of bedtime.

In the quiet moments between putting the kids to bed, you found Joel in the hallway, sharing a look of satisfaction passing between you. The day had been a whirlwind of love and joy, and now the peaceful hush settles over the house like a comforting blanket.

“Another Christmas for the books,” Joel remarks, his voice low.

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “And many more to come, I hope.”

The two of you continue the nightly routine, gently closing doors and ensuring the house was ready for the calm of night. The soft glow of the light spilling from your bedroom illuminates your path as you and Joel make your way into the room, where little Joelseph lay sleeping in his bassinet.

Joel pauses by the doorway, his eyes fondly watching the baby. “He’s been the best gift, hasn’t he?”

You nod, a warmth settling in your heart. “The best, indeed.”

The day had been a symphony of chaos and joy, a beautiful crescendo that had now found its resolution in the quietude of the evening. As you and Joel retire to your room, you can’t help but reflect on the blessings of family, love, and the precious moments that make Christmas truly magical.

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[amberlynnmurdock]

Neighbor Pt. 5

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt comes home from a rough night as Daredevil. He usually listens to her to help himself fall asleep, but tonight, she's awake as well. Matt feels guilty to listen to her as he's never heard her this intimate before.

Words: 1.3k

Genres/Warning: SMUT, 18+, masturbation, mutual masturbation

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, happy holidays, I hope you're having a lovely Monday! Here's a random update/present (it's a smutty chapter teehee) enjoy!!!

Part 4

Matt sat on the edge of his roof, breathing heavily and aching from tonight’s activities. It was easy for him to stop bad men from doing bad things, but the bleeding never stopped. He was always bleeding, even when he wasn’t. 

He stayed out later than usual. What for? He was stressed, to put it simply. Work was stressful, the gangs of this city were stressful, and his personal life (or lack thereof) was stressful. At least, going out as Daredevil gave him some sort of control over the chaos. It made him feel alive like he really did have a purpose in this life. 

Directly below him was her apartment. Truthfully, thinking about her made him stressed out too. Because all he wanted was her, and yet there he was, creating distance. He’s convinced himself countless times that he can’t be Daredevil and have someone like her in his life. He had to keep people at arm’s length and never closer than that. Even though he so desperately wanted someone close to him. 

She was sleeping. It was 2 AM. Of course, she was sleeping. Sleeping soundly, peacefully, under her velvet blanket. Listening to her almost lulled Matt to sleep on the roof. He took this as a sign that it was time for him to go to bed, too. 

After a long hot shower, Matt was finally lying in bed, silk sheets laid over his legs. He was always either too hot or too cold in his apartment, which is why he had the blankets covering half of his body. He slept without a shirt on to let his wounds breathe—a shirt was too constricting. He wore dress shirts and ties every day at work. He sighed as he closed his eyes. At least, the apartment was completely quiet at 2 AM. Even though it was quiet, that didn’t stop him from listening to her. 

She was sleeping soundly still. Her heartbeat was steady. Her breathing was soft and slow. Little did she know how much peace she brought him at night. Little did she know how much his thoughts were consumed by her. He hoped she had a good day at the bookstore. He hoped she had the early shift tomorrow so she could avoid the dark—regardless, he’d be there in the shadows, making sure she got home safely. 

She stirred in her sleep. Matt cocked his head and opened his eyes, focusing on her. Was she having a nightmare? He wasn’t unfamiliar with those, unfortunately. Maybe she was getting up to get a drink of water. He heard her shift under her covers, kicking them off in a sleepy state. The way her heart was beating now told him she was half awake, in a daze. 

“Mm,” she hummed as she woke up, moving her legs around. Matt furrowed his brows—was she having a night—

Oh. 

Oh. 

If he didn’t feel like a creep before, he sure as hell did now. He never listened to her when she was in the shower, getting changed, or doing other personal things. Once he heard an indication of any of that, he tuned her out to respect her privacy. But this? He’s never accidentally listened to her doing this. It wasn’t hard to guess what it was. Matt’s senses were locked on her. He couldn’t help but listen more. 

She spread her legs in her bed and clamped them together again, pushing her thighs together in a sleepy state. Her heart rate was growing steadily into a heavier beat. She squirmed in bed and made a sound that made Matt’s own heart jump in his chest. 

“Mmm,” she moaned. Wetness filled the air, filled Matt’s senses. The wetness between her legs was a sweet aroma on Matt’s nose. His heart started to beat fast. He listened as she kicked her blankets off her and pushed her head into her pillow, squeezing her thighs, surely to feel a delicious pressure he only dreamed of being on the giving end one day. 

He listened as she slid her cotton panties down to her ankles and spread her legs, an intoxicating scent of her wetness filling Matt’s nose. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt his cock harden underneath his silk blankets. His hand twitched at his side as he fought the urge to palm himself. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, bringing Matt’s attention back to her. Her hand was under her thin silk tank top now, kneading her right breast and pinching her nipple with her thumb and pointer finger. She pressed herself into her bed more, squirming in pleasure. Matt finally couldn’t resist his own urges anymore—he took his cock in his right hand and began to slow stroke it. His cock was so hard now listening to her sounds of pleasure. He gripped it harder and stroked a bit faster. 

“God,” she whispered again as her hand trailed down her stomach to where her wetness pooled. With one brush of her fingers gently on her clit, she let out a louder moan which sounded like an angel singing to Matt. Fuck, it was so sexy, and Matt really shouldn’t have been listening to her, but God was she alluring with the way she cursed from rubbing her pussy and making herself feel so good. She began to rub her clit more urgently. Matt began to stroke himself faster as he listened to her masturbate. 

She slipped a finger inside herself for a moment, rubbing around her soft, gushy insides before rubbing her clit again and pressing the side of her face in her pillow from pleasure. She felt euphoric, on a wave of pleasure, and so needy, she tensed her legs and continued to rub herself more. 

“Unn, mm,” she moaned. Matt’s mouth hung half open as he continued to jerk himself off to her orgasmic sounds, his cock so close to bursting with his own pleasure. He imagined being between her legs, face in front of her glorious wetness, lapping at her juices. He imagined it was him making her make those fervent, needy sounds. He imagined slowly pushing his cock into her pussy and listening to her adjust to his size, moaning from relief, pleasure, and release. He wanted to be in her bed so badly at that moment. His hand couldn’t compare to her soft hand, which he’s only held in more wholesome moments. This was such a sin, what he was doing. He didn’t care. She sounded fucking euphoric. He imagined heaven sounded a lot like what noises she was making as she continued to bring herself to an orgasm. Matt continued to stroke himself, this time with more pressure and faster as he knew she was about to reach her own euphoric finish. She squeezed her thighs as she continued to rub her clit, pushing herself deeper in her bed. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was breathless as she finally let herself come undone.

“Matt…” she whispered against her lips like a prayer. Matt was stunned to hear her say his name as she orgasmed, so much so he came at the same time, his hot cum spilling out of the tip of his cock onto his stomach. He was breathless too as he uttered her name. 

“Fuck,” he whispered as he squeezed the last drop of cum on his stomach, shuddering from his orgasm. She was thinking of me? Suddenly, he felt less guilty for listening and masturbating to her… it seemed they were both sinners for each other. 

Matt cleaned himself off in the bathroom, and he listened as she did the same. She washed her hands and crawled back into her bed, not putting her panties back on. Her heart finally had calmed down to a steady beat and she fell asleep almost instantly. 

Matt finally let himself fall asleep too. 

TAGS: @mattmurdocksstarlight @yentroucnagol @danzer8705 @allllium @i-marvel-bitch @mattsgirlsworld @babygrlmurdock @writtenbyred @uncle-eggy

[leclerc-hs]

after hours - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: based upon ‘After Hours’ by the Weeknd….kinda? Warnings: angst? bad writing lmao, some smut Word Count: 1,955 Author's Note: Feel free to send in requests. I know I'm not the best writer but I have fun doing it anyways lmao kk love u all!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IT WASN'T ALWAYS like this. This mess of a situation that had caused utter chaos and pain that now lays awake inside the both of you. You used to be happy.

“Without you I can’t sleep,”

In the midst of a restless night, you couldn’t help but toss and turn. You were thrashing around and the sheets were at complete disarray from your constant kicking and rolling around. The oppressive summer heat was merciless as it couldn’t help but creep in through your windows and into your apartment. You had stripped down into a mere spaghetti strapped tank top with the most diminutive semblance piece of underwear. One would question the classification of such a minuscule garment. Sleep, in these circumstances, appeared to be pointless.

You spent, what felt like hours, relentlessly scrolling on your phone in hopes you would eventually grow tiresome. And it was working at first. That is, until you saw the Instagram story of him. Him at the club with friends. While you lie here completely alone and restless. 

The initial reaction to seeing this story was to roll your eyes. By the time 5 minutes had passed and you were still staring at it, you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach. It just doesn’t make sense. How is it that he can be out partying while you’re in bed incapable of sleep. Did he not care? Did he ever even love you?

You began to laugh at yourself. Of course, he didn’t love you. If he loved you, he wouldn’t have kissed another girl. He would’ve fought for you more.

“Girl, I felt so alone inside of this crowded room,”

The swarm of heat surrounded him. But not from the humid summer air like you. No, his form of insufferable heat was from the crowd of drunken bodies that filled the club. His friends had dragged him out. Told him he needed to ‘stop moping around’. Told him that he ‘needs time with his boys’ to cheer up.

The irony of this all weighed heavily upon him. A relentless reminder of the gaping void you have left behind. It was as if you had woven yourself into the very fabric of his consciousness. A presence that refused to be ignored.

It had only been a few weeks since he saw you last. But still, you would never leave his mind.

But who is he to complain? Who is he to even care about how he feels when its him who had destroyed one of the only good things in his life. It was all a mistake. One he would absolutely take back and delete its existence if he had that kind of power. 

“I know I made you fall,”

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me,” Your voice trembled with each shout of a word that you let out. The very walls that surrounded you felt as if they were caving in. It was unbearable. The act of betrayal was too blatant to ignore.

Your boyfriend in tabloids kissing another woman. Kissing another woman. Kissing another woman. Publicly. 

The words repeated in your head like a broken record.

“Mon amour,” he started. You cut him off almost instantly. You could not be silenced. 

It was too quick. So quick, you couldn’t even process the rage that was igniting within you. One second, you held his phone in your hand. The next second, it was shattered all over the floor beside him. Smashed from impact of hitting the wall. A mirror of what your trust for him looked like.

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed. You ached. “I’m not your anything.” 

His mouth opened ready to fight back. Ready to do anything for your forgiveness. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t handle it. He needed you. 

“Not anymore,” you continued before grabbing your purse. “Don’t contact me. I can’t look at you.” You couldn’t even cry. Your eyes were red, puffy, and completely dry. Your body couldn’t even handle making more tears.

The worst part about this entire fight? Did you really want no contact, or did you just yearn for him to fight for you? The question loomed over you. 

Honestly, it’s a fine line. Deciding if the no contact really is the best option or if all you wanted was for him to show more effort for you. To try harder. Would you forgive him? Would you move on? 

“It was simply a blessing waking beside you,”

He couldn’t help but reminisce on all the mornings you spent together. Even at the club. He was shameless. 

The morning sun slowly began peeking through the cream-colored curtains of your bedroom. It was one of your favorite times. The time where you’re on the cusp of being lucid but not completely there yet. This time full of raw love and passion.

His fingers slowly trailed up your ribcage and to your nipples before giving them a slight pinch. Goosebumps arose wherever his fingers trailed.

“Mon amour,” his hips started rolling slowly into you.  Your nipple still pinched in between the rolling of his two fingers. “Give it to me” he said.

You were a moaning mess. “Please,” you were begging. Begging to reach that peak you oh so needed. 

“Tell me what you need,” The pace of his hips increased. The sound of skin to skin slapping mixed with the sounds of both of your moans filled the room and only pushed you towards the edge more. 

“Is it me, amour?” He started. “You always take me so well. So, fucking tight mon amour,” Charles was relentless now. His hips picked up pace urgently. He was feverishly reaching for that peak as well. He fucked himself into you so hard it was as if he was trying to burn the memory of you here with him for forever. 

“What a fucking salope,” He edged you further. “My fucking salope.”

“Come on, mon amour. Make a fucking mess of me,” It was right then. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. Your own thighs squeezed tighter together as you pulsed around him. His orgasm following soon after.

Charles breathed heavily behind you and placed gentle kisses along the backside of your shoulder blade. 

“You did so well, mon amour,” He pecked more kisses. “I never want to wake up without you.”

“Sorry that I broke your heart,”

It was well late into the night. In the dimly lit room, you found yourself wrapped in an emotional embrace. Hard knocks were heard on the front door of your apartment causing you to jump up in surprise. 

“Mon amour,” you heard him speak first on the other side of the door. You immediately stopped in your tracks. Your throat felt constricted. Those two words burned in your memory. It was as if mon amour had become your name. You couldn’t even remember the last time Charles used your real name. 

The tumultuous mixture of anger, betrayal, and love clawed at you. Making it difficult to discern your true feelings.

You hesitated. Whether you should open the door or not. His knocking became insistent. Loud. Each moment that passed his fist against the door went harder. 

Out of respect for your neighbors, you let him in. At least that’s what you told yourself to feel better. 

Charles was leaned against the door frame for support. He looked tired. A look of anger was in his eyes. He wasn’t in the right state of mind. He knew he had no right to be mad at you. But he was. He was being completely irrational as he marched his way over here.

“You are going to sit. You are going to listen to me,” He demanded as he pushed into your apartment. He gripped your wrist as he pulled you into the apartment and to the couch. You accept it anyways. Not because he deserved it, but because you need closure.

“The picture looks wrong,” he began. “I just need to explain this to you. Even if it doesn’t change anything.” He kneeled before you, in between your legs as he explained himself. His green eyes, a tad darker with a reddish tint lined around them, were staring solely into yours.

With a slight nod of your head, you let him continue.

“It’s all wrong. It’s not an excuse, but I did not kiss her back.” His words were sharp. As if he wanted to burn those words into your brain. 

“Pictures say otherwise, Cha,” you felt like you were going to throw up. This conversation burned tears into your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back. 

“She was a fan. She came up to me and grabbed me,” his hands slipped onto your knees and squeezed them tightly. “She grabbed me and kissed me.” His voice was cracking slightly as he let his head drop and rest on your legs.

You knew this information wouldn’t change much. It was still a kiss. One that shouldn’t have happened. 

“Whether she kissed you or you kissed her. It doesn’t change. Don’t you see?” You moved your knee so he would lift his head up. “It’s not going to change anything.” You said. You weren't even positive if it wouldn't change anything. But it was all that could come to mind. “It shouldn’t have even happened.”

“Mon,” 

You cut him off by standing up. “Would you stop calling me that!” You were shouting now. Walking from the confines of his presence. It was too much. He was too close. You couldn’t think properly. 

“I can’t,” He arose from his knees and stood beside the coffee table. “I will do anything.” It was then. His voice finally cracked, and you could sense that tears have started falling from his eyes. He didn’t even bother to wipe them as he sat down on the couch. Exactly where you were last seated. 

In a moment that could only be described as naïve or perhaps even foolish, the depth of your love for him exceeded all rationality. You couldn’t even stand to see him crying, even if he was the one who ignited these issues into your relationship. You still wanted to comfort him regardless. He didn’t deserve it and you knew that. But in this moment, you couldn’t even care if it made you weak. Because you wanted to feel his embrace too. 

You trailed back across the room to sit beside him to wrap your arms around him. The two of you entangled on the couch seeking some form of comfort. He didn’t deserve it – the comfort. Most importantly, didn’t deserve you. 

“I need you to leave,” you began. His arms wrapped tighter around you. He didn’t want to let go. It was as if his grip onto you as if he was physically holding onto what remained of your tattering connection. “Please.” You were begging as your head rested in the crook of his neck. 

You only felt him shake more. Undoubtedly, crying. But he understood.

“I just need space,” your voice was a fragile whisper. “I still love you. I miss you. I wish this never happened to us.” His lips pressed to any inch of skin that was within proximity. You felt his hot tears slip onto your skin with each kiss he pressed. 

The plea for space, while still expressing love and longing, demonstrates the need for personal boundaries and self-care.

“I will keep fighting for you,” He pulled away before standing up from the couch. “I will do anything. I promise you that. You are the love of my life.”

It wasn’t until then, that you felt your tears spill out of your eyes. With a small nod of your head, he walked out of the apartment with his heart still latched onto you. Yours with his. It was a tapestry of emotions left in wake.

[amsznn]

heyy i love your writing! idk if this is where you take requests or not or if you do requests but i have a kinda specific one? could you do one with matt where y/n has her own small, cozy home, and she and matt kinda unspokenly like each other and hang out alone all the time? like they're super close and flirt low key all the time in small, sweet ways, and they're "just friends" but could definitely be found watching a scary movie alone together in her super cozy room *sorta* cuddling? going on late night drives together and talking for hours?? that kinda relationship! like id just LOVEE for you to write about a breezy fall night, her bedroom windows open, fall scented candles in her room, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a scary movie kinda cuddled up with matt under thick blankets? but they obviously like each other a lot and he's the first one to tell her and share really cute kisses??? you know?? like matt can't fully focus on the movie because his heart is beating out of his chest with super cute feelings for y/n. just lots of fluff, cozy fall vibes, nothing super cringey! i hope i got the very specific vibe across haha!

CAN WE BE MORE? - m. sturniolo ⋆⭒˚.

A/N: TYSM for this request, its soo good and hopefully you enjoy reading my take on it!

-

no one was more excited for fall like you and your best friend matt were. in your eyes, fall was when you thrived the most. with the nice breeze, to the crunch of the leaves under your converse as you make yourself up your driveway, nothing could compare.

opening up the door to your small apartment, you immediately felt at ease. quickly kicking off your shoes, you made your way to your living room that was sorta a mess from yesterday’s activities. the triplets came over to bake cookies with you, but chris ended up crashing on the couch. it was no big deal though, you loved the triplets. maybe sometimes you had a little more love for one.

snapping out of your thoughts, you checked your phone to see the time. 5:30. the triplets would be coming over once again so you could have your anual scary movie session.

the day went on with you cleaning every crevasse of your house, of course knowing it would go back to it’s horrid state after the boys got there. then you made your way to your room, looking around to see if anything was out of place. you noticed that matt’s blanket was hanging off your bed so you made way to grab it. matt sometimes liked sleeping over to get away from all the chaos. it was normal for your friendship with him. nothing ever really happened though.

although you loved all three of them, you couldn’t help but wish for some more alone time with matt. maybe it was selfish but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded ten times faster whenever he was around, or when he would sneak glances at you thinking you weren’t looking. maybe it was all in your head, you thought to yourself.

the time was now 6:20, and the sun had already fully set, which made for a cozy environment in your house with the lights dimmed, and pumpkin scented candles flickering. you also made a mental note to check on the cookies you put under the oven.

a few minutes later you heard your front door start to open. it didn’t alarm you since the triplets had an extra key. well, matt had an extra key. “y/n?” you heard a familiar voice call out from the hallway. you couldn’t hide your excited expression as you made your way towards the voice.

you expected to be bombarded by nick, and chris as well but nope, it was only matt. “hey, where are your brothers?” you asked, taking the bag of snacks out of his hands.

shuffling to take his shoes off matt says, “well, i thought it’d be better if it was just us.” you blinked for a couple of moments before smiling. “sure why not, maybe we can actually finish the movie this time.” you chuckled, before making your way to the kitchen, with matt following closely behind you.

he sighed when he smelled the aroma of the cookies surrounding the area. he always secretly loved coming over alone. he liked spending time with just you. of course you guys hang out occasionally like going to random food places together, or heading to the thrift store, but something was different when just hanging out at your house. over the years it’s become like a safe place for matt where he can escape from the world for a little bit. you were his escape. except how does he tell you that?

he watched as you opened the oven to take the cookies out, forgetting about oven mitts, and heat. “hot! hot! hot!” you shouted but refusing to drop your cookies on the floor. matt quickly made his way to you with and oven mitt and placed the cookies on the counter before turning to you. “are you okay??” he asked while gently taking your hands to inspect your burns.

it was nothing fatal, nothing cold water and vaseline couldn’t fix. he led you to the sink and held your hand under the cold water. “stay right here, okay? i’ll go get some vaseline.” matt knew his way around your house like the back of his hand, so he came back with the vaseline in no time. taking your hand out of the water, he gently dried it with a towel, before applying the vaseline to it.

you scrunched your face up at the uncomfortable contact which matt seemed to notice. “i know, i know, but this is what happens when you forget the fucking oven mitt”

you couldnt help but laugh. “hey, i just wanted my cookies.” matt softly smiled before letting your hand go. you both stood there for what seemed like an eternity just staring at each other. until you realized the oven was still on. (id burn the house down yall)

-

after that whole fiasco, you and matt ended up settling down on the couch to watch your favorite scary movie. there wasn’t a lot of space between you two since you liked being close to matt whenever watching these movies. no matter who was there you subconsciously were always closer to him.

the movie started and you were bundled up in your blanket while matt’s arm rested on the couch behind you. although the movie was creepy, the smile on your face almost never left since you felt so secure with matt. eventually though, that smile faded away as a jumpscare popped up on your screen. causing you to jump closer into matt’s side.

on the other hand, matt was freaking out. and not because of the movie. sure you guys have cuddled before, but that doesn’t mean he never longed for more. or for it to more than just two friends being close. his eyes darted between you and the screen. he was sure you could hear the pounding of his chest. he gently removed his arm from the couch and wrapped it around your shoulder, making sure to watch your reaction, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

you sighed at the contact and rested your head on his chest further. if anyone walked in right now, they’d definitely think you were a couple. but unfortunately you were just two friends as of right now.

eventually the movie ended, but you and matt’s position on the couch didn’t. his arm was still around you, afraid that if he’d move just a little, you’d move away. you looked up at matt and found him staring right back at you. this made you shift up, to properly sit. “what?” you asked him.

matt’s mouth only opened and closed. desperately trying to find the right words. eventually he just sighed, letting everything out. “y/n, i know we’ve been friends for a while but i really cant keep ignoring my feelings like this.” matt shifted on the couch as you listened, worried that you did something wrong.

“i like you, or maybe love im not sure, but i do know that you mean so much to me, and just being friends is killing me.” matt paused for a moment to catch his breath from rambling so much. “i just want to be more.”

“you have no idea how much ive been wanting to hear that from you.” you softly laughed as you watched matt’s face soften. “i love you too, matt.”

matt only smiled as he brought you into a hug, resting his head on your shoulder. “can i kiss you?” he asks, close to a whisper. you nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck. matt smiled at this and leaned in, before his lips landed on yours. matt’s arms made their way down your body and landed on the sides of your waste, trying to pull you in closer.

it felt like your heart was going to explode at any moment with the way matt’s lips were moving against yours. he was gentle, but passionate. matt pecked your lips a couple of times before pulling back and holding you there.

“so, can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, bringing his hand up to caress your face.

“of course you can.”

-

A/N: i really hope this is what you meant / wanted. this was an amazing first request, i was literally smiling while reading it. If anything, message me if you want anything added or changed and leave some more requests!

also ty guys so so much for the love on my recenr works, its so crazy, love you all <3

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ OT8 Stray Kids Showing You They Love You ♡

♡ Just some ot8!stray kids showing their chubby!fem!gf how much they love her and what some of those things might be.

♡ The biggest of thank yous to @tryingtolivelifeblog for requesting this. It's such an adorable idea. I just love it to pieces and hope you do too!

♡ Genre: fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.4k-ish

♡ Bang Chan ♡

It isn’t unusual for your boyfriend to be up on his laptop all night, headphones in, chipping away at the next track for his group. That’s what you’ve assumed has been happening these past few weeks but you couldn’t be more wrong. He has been working on a song but it’s for you and only you. It’s much softer than what he’s usually known for with instrumentals that feel like a warm blanket on a cold night. You can feel his vulnerability in every word he sings. So much that you can’t even question if he really means it when he says that your gentle heart makes him fall for you more and more each day. Or that the sweetness of your voice brings calm to the chaos in his brain. He dedicates an entire verse to the brightness of your smile and how your laughter’s his favorite sound. By the end of it you’re trying not to cry which is fine because he is too.

♡ Changbin ♡

You have no clue how much self control it took for Changbin not to buy out the entire Build-A-Bear store getting those cute little teddy bears that say phrases when you hug them. It would’ve been easy for him to send someone else to get them for him but he does it himself instead, pretending to be at the gym while he picks out the perfect dozen for you. Once everything’s perfect he leaves them around the apartment for you to find with notes that say “Hug Me”. When you do you hear your favorite voice telling you that your eyes are so beautiful and brimming with love that he could stare back into them all day. He loves how you see him, really see him, for who he is and he never has to hide behind a mask with you. You’re his #1 cheerleader, always reminding him he’s good enough when he doubts himself. There isn’t a safer place in the world for than with you and he'll spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to be the same for you.

♡ Hannie ♡

With your boyfriend’s hectic schedule, it’s important to him that he makes time to have special moments just for the two of you. This includes game nights which he takes very seriously, going all out to make sure the atmosphere’s ultra romantic and you have all of your favorite snacks. When you settle in for your latest game night you’re clueless when he presents you with an already built tower of blocks with hearts on the exterior of each piece. As the game begins you realize that each block you pull out has a reason he loves you handwritten on it. All 54 blocks. His hand cramped up 1,000 times doing it but it was worth it for you to know that spending an eternity cuddled up to your soft body would be the sweetest fate imaginable. That he never dreams better than when you’re there beside him, fingers running through his hair, singing him to sleep. That, even though it hurts sometimes, you make him miss you more than he has anyone else.

♡ Hyunjin ♡

Hyunjin’s never told you this before but he knew that you were the one since the day you first met. There was simply no way he was going to let someone as special as you get away. In the year since then he’s been drawing pictures of you in his sketchbook during moments when he’s feeling particularly sentimental. You’re always too respectful of his artistic process to peek at his work unless he asks so you don’t know until he shows you that he has such gorgeously vivid drawings of you making breakfast for him in the wee hours of the morning before he has to catch a flight. A few pages in there’s another of you playing with kids at the park when they needed one more person for a game. The last page is you sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, waiting to comfort him after an appearance he’d been dreading. The way you’re so thoughtful, lovely, and kind live in those moments he never wants to forget. 

♡ Felix ♡

“Felix, I think there’s…paper in this cupcake?” When Felix surprises you with cupcakes at work and sees you bite into the first one it dawns on him that he probably should’ve considered that maybe cupcakes don’t work exactly like fortune cookies do. But his heart was in the right place and you can’t bring yourself to care about biting into a little paper when you see what he’s written on them. He watches with the widest smile on that freckled face as you read how much being with you keeps him grounded in a life that can leave his head spinning sometimes. It means everything to him that his fame doesn’t make you treat him differently. You dance with him beneath the stars and kiss him in the rain because you love the Felix that’s just a silly kid from Australia and not the one on the magazine covers. You make him feel fearless because he knows even if he shoots for the stars and misses you’re here to catch him. 

♡ Lino ♡

Some people have this picture in their head of your boyfriend as this grumpy black cat who doesn’t quite know how to show affection but you know better than anyone that isn’t true. In reality you couldn’t imagine finding a guy more loving and thoughtful than Minho. What other guy would surprise you with a hike through a picturesque forest, hiding the cutest lock boxes at special landmarks along the way that hold his favorite pictures of the two of you together? A sentiment that particularly tugs at your heartstrings because you know he isn’t a picture guy but for you he is and always will be. On the back of each picture he writes something he loved about you at that moment. The warmth of your hand as he held it at the cat cafe in Tokyo or the scent of your perfume as you cuddled up to him on a neverending train ride that exhausted both of you. It’s the small things like the way you never hesitate to join him in making funny faces in front of the camera that make love you like he does.  

♡ Innie ♡

I.N could give you a bouquet of flowers that say “I love you” and call it a day. He knows you’d still treat it like he gifted you all of the diamonds in the world. But he wants to do more than that. Instead of giving you a bouquet all at once, he gives you a flower for each day of the week and, in place of a real flower, he gives you a glass rose that shimmers marvelously in the sunlight. Engraved on the side of each rose is something he finds special about you. Like the patience that you have with him while he figures out who he is in the world. You never pressure him to become anything or stay the way he was. Whoever he becomes he knows it’ll always be enough for you. Your kisses are like magic, cheering him up when nothing else can. And that counts for all kisses. If it’s on the lips, the neck, the forehead, wherever. They spark a joy inside of him that he isn’t quite sure any amount of words or roses could do justice to but he hopes this comes close. 

♡ Seungmin ♡

No one ever thought the day would come where Kim Seungmin got all mushy over a girl. Yet, here he is, head over heels in love with you, and he dares anyone to say something about it. Not that anyone would, it’s a well known fact now that you mean a lot to him. So much that wherever he is in the world he makes sure to bring you back something that reminds him of you. It’s left you with a collection of things from more places than you’ve actually visited. There’s the goddess carved in polished wood, nestled in the arches of a crescent moon with her curves on full display. When he saw it he joked how lucky he was to have one of his own at home, only prettier. Then there’s the music box that plays a song neither of you have ever heard before. Still, it reminds him of your melodic voice whispering to him between the sheets on rainy Sunday mornings. There was no way he could leave the shop without it. He knows one day you’ll run out of room for wind chimes that sway as gracefully your body when you dance, even if you don’t think so, but that’s okay. He’ll just buy you more room.

[vee6lolz]

hello!!! how are you?

i was thinking about spencer meeting a teacher hehe I'm not so good at describing it, but maybe she's giving private lessons for a kid's neighbour of his and then they meet at the elevator of the building? pretty please? 😍

𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖙. -- spencer reid x teacher!reader.

warnings/tags: (fluff!) , teacher / chaotic (but sweet) reader.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this help me i love u to whoever suggested it

wc: 1.9k !!

summary: you're a teacher whose putting in the work for summer school students, you wake up late one day and even though it seemed like the most inconvenient thing ever, it worked out in your favor after all.

NOT PROOF READ + ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

The morning sun spilled through the gaps in the curtains, casting stripes of light across the tangled mess of blankets in your bed. You blinked groggily, your eyes heavy and puffy from too little sleep and too many regrets. As you rubbed the remnants of last night from your eyes, your phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a string of missed calls. Four from your ex, two from his best friend. A dull ache settled in your chest—a reminder of things you’d just rather forget.

You groaned, realizing you had returned none of them. Not that you had the time, or the patience. Rolling out of bed, an overwhelming wave of yesterday’s choices washed over you; you reeked of sweat and something faintly reminiscent of cheap wine. Your gaze flicked to the clock on the wall—12:30. Oh shit. You were late.

With an urgency you hadn’t felt in days, you scrambled to gather yourself, moving your hair out of your face as you stumbled towards the bathroom, your heart racing along with the consequences of your procrastination.

you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in an effort to shake off the fog of last night. the cool rush did little to calm your racing heart as you hastily brushed your teeth, already scanning the small space for something—anything—that was clean to wear.

just as you reached for a shirt that suspiciously looked like it might’ve been worn yesterday, your phone buzzed again. the caller id read “mrs. henderson,” one of your students' moms. with a sigh, you answered, knowing you had no choice.

“hello, mrs. henderson,” you greeted, trying to inject some cheer into your voice.

“yes, ma’am,” you replied, wincing at the urgency in her tone. “yes, i am on my way right now, stuck in traffic.” you glanced at the clock again; the minutes were slipping away.

as you hurriedly threw on a wrinkled pair of pants, you glanced out the window and noticed the swarm of cars barely inching along. your frustration bubbled over, and without thinking, you shouted toward the street, “come on! move it already!”

“ugh, you know how it goes during rush hour,” you continued to mrs. henderson, half-exasperated and half-amused at your own antics. “yes, almost there, buh bye!” you ended the call with a shaky laugh, shaking your head at the chaos of your morning.

with adrenaline pumping and a mounting sense of urgency, you quickly pulled a sweater over your head, choosing to ignore the wrinkles. tugging on your shoes, you grabbed your bag and took one last look in the mirror. you could only hope today wasn’t a complete disaster—and that you wouldn’t have to dodge any more frantic phone calls.

you got out of your car and parked in guest parking, the summer sun pouring through the window, painting the seats in golden hues. instead of lounging on a beach somewhere, sipping piña coladas and listening to the sound of gentle waves, you were stuck in summer school with one specific student. your friends were sharing stories of tropical adventures while you were grading notes on multiplication and grammar. it wasn’t that the student was a bad kid; in fact, she had been a solid performer until the semester began to slip away from her. she was bright but had a stubborn streak that kept her from doing anyone else’s work, that is, until she met you, ms. [l/n]. the school administration figured that since you had built such a great rapport with her, why not sacrifice a little vacation time to help ensure the girl wouldn’t flunk? and if they thought you were just going to say yes because you felt bad... then yeah, they were right. god you hated teaching summer school.

as you arrived and, rushed down the hall, you hit the button for the elevator, tapping it with increasing impatience as the minutes slipped away. the elevator door stood stubbornly closed. you groaned and hit the button again and again, tapping it with a combination of desperation and frustration.

“having trouble?” a voice chimed from behind you. you turned to see a tall figure walking toward you, his frame around six feet tall, effortlessly commanding the small space. he had tousled dark hair, and his cheekbones were high and defined, complemented by a slight smile. his eyes were a striking shade of hazel, an unusual mix that seemed to shift with the light. he wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his lean frame, paired with dark suit pants. he looked almost too perfect—a professor-type, but a bad one. like someone who could educate you on the theory of relativity and then do things to you you would never forget.

“uh, yeah. it won't budge,” you admitted, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you briefly noted how attractive he was. he approached the elevator panel and swiftly pressed the actual button—of course, the one you had been mashing fruitlessly. the elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and you stepped inside, feeling a mix of gratitude and intrigue.

“thank you,” you said, glancing at him as the doors closed. you stood next to each other in the cramped space, and you couldn’t help but eye him curiously. he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, occasionally looking down at his hands. you couldn’t figure out why he was so quiet, but you didn’t dwell on it for long; your focus was on arriving to the door.

as the elevator hummed its way to your destination, you noticed the number flashing above the door. to your surprise, you were headed to the same floor. just as you reached it, you both instinctively moved toward the door at the same time.

“oh, after you,” he offered, his voice smooth and lightly teasing. your heart raced again, not just from the sense of urgency but also from how charming his laugh was. you couldn't help but notice the way it seemed to echo around you, making you want to hear it again.

“no, please. after you,” you insisted in return, and you both found yourselves caught in an awkward dance, both trying to let the other go first, unable to decide who should step out first.

“after you,” he repeated, laughter dancing in his voice, and just like that, you nodded, cheeks slightly warm, before stepping out of the elevator. as you walked past him, you felt the warmth of his presence lingering, and that laugh—oh, God if you weren't so late right now...

you sat across from your young student at the small kitchen table, surrounded by a mix of colorful worksheets, pencils, and books. The late afternoon light poured in through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. The little girl diligently worked on her times tables, the crinkled paper a testament to her determination.

As you glanced occasionally at her progress, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. Teaching had its challenges, but moments like these reminded you why you loved it. You caught yourself smiling—genuine, unfiltered joy spilling over as the girl successfully rattled off another multiplication fact. but you also caught yourself remembering the tall man in the elevator, you smirked to yourself even more.

In a moment of concentration, she looked up and noticed. “You’re smiling a lot!” she blurted out, her eyes wide with curiosity. You chuckled softly, caught off guard by her observation. “I guess I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

“My neighbor down the hall works for the FBI,” she announced with an important air. Her youthful confidence was contagious. “He’s a profiler or something, and he says that when someone’s smiling a lot, it means that something happened to make them happy.”

“Yeah, I saw something that made me happy alright,” you said lighter than you intended, before a wave of realization washed over you. maybe that wasn’t... appropriate to say in front of a fourth grader. Your mind raced as you searched for a safe response.

“What does that mean?” She asked, you stammered and stuttered and asked. “Well, uh-- Hey would you look at that its almost time for me to go.” She looked at you curiously, clearly pondering what you’d said. There was a peculiar wisdom in her gaze, and you quickly ushered her away.

After a final glance around the apartment, you slipped on your coat and grabbed your bag, feeling the familiar excitement of stepping out into the bustling world again. The hallway felt cozy as you made your way to the elevator, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft chiming sound, you stepped inside, your mind drifting to thoughts of your next tutoring session and the plans you had for the weekend. Just as the doors were about to close, they jolted back open, and a man stepped in—tall, with tousled dark hair and a warm smile that lit up his face. He glanced over at you, and you instinctively looked up, catching his gaze. In that moment, time seemed to stand still amid the commotion of your lives outside.

A smile broke across your face, a soft, inviting expression that mirrored his own. And without thinking, you spoke up, "You came in this morning, but you're leaving this afternoon." you said, without thinking. It sounded creep to me, but he understood what I meant. He nodded, "Yeah my job it uh-- I work for the uh-- Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI." your jaw drops, and he looks, but not limited to, concerned. "Is everything--" "Yeah its just uhm, funny enough my student, I think she was talking about you today-- I teach, so," you mutter out, letting out a breathy laugh.

"She 'profiler..ed'? me, I guess. I was smiling and she knew that something happened this morning to make me smile. She said she got it from you," he looked in complete and udder awe as he let out a chuckle. he nodded, then thinking for a bit. The elevator dinged, and instead of parting ways there, you guys walked the parking lot together. "Anderson? The little one," He said, making the motion with his hand to the side of his hip. You nodded your head in agreement. "Yeah she's really bright," he adds with a smile.

You agree with him, and look at him with curiosity in your eye. "Why were you smiling this morning?". The question lingers through the air, as he gives that laugh, that laugh, that he gave this morning that you almost risked everything for, filling the silence.

"You were staring, really hard." You feel your whole world shatter in embarrassment as those five words escape his lips, you laugh out of complete shock and horror as he can't help but begin to join you out of response to your reaction. "It's okay, it was just funny. Plus, I was too.". You let that stay in the air for a bit— those gorgeous hazel eyes looking down into yours, you smiled. And that's all you did. He walked you to your car, making sure you got there safely. And before he could walk off to his own, you spoke out. "Hey would you— happen to have a card? Just incase I wanna talk to you about, profiling or, the right buttons on the elevator." You say, realizing how stupid that sounding coming out. But he didn't think so, not at all. "Or incase I just wanna, talk to you..." Your voice fading out as he walked back over to you. Spencer Reid.

"I'll be expecting a call from you, you know. About, the right buttons on the elevator." He smiled, chuckling out. You nodded your head. 'will do...' you thought to yourself as you turned the engine on, letting the rumbling of your car fill your ears for a moment.

oh thank, God, to being late.