#I know you've asked something like this before but I think it got lost in the tides of my inbox sry 😅

[organic-bloodbath]

Mingle - Part 2

Thanos x Reader

Summary: Thanos wants to protect you at all cost and has to choose whether to continue the game or take you back home. Getting to know you better, the answer is simple.

A/N: More angsty than the first part and doesn't follow the show's plot anymore. Thank you so much for all the likes on the first part, i didn't imagine it getting so many notes 🫶🏻 I wasn't sure which way to take this story, but he's 100% obsessed and in love with her.

☆☆☆

You were holding your tray, about to go to your usual spot to eat with your team and following Dae-ho in front of you but you stopped. You looked over Thanos, seeing him by himself.

"I'll see you later," you said to Dae-ho who looked confused. "I'll go sit with Thanos tonight."

"Thanos?" Dae-ho repeated, making sure he heard you correctly. "Why would you-"

You turned around and left, not wanting to answer to any other questions Dae-ho would ask you about your sudden interest to spend time with Thanos. Mostly, because you didn't know what to say.

Why? Because he just saved you a moment ago? You weren't sure if that was the only reason or not, you had to go over to him and figure it out yourself.

When you arrived to the bunk where Thanos was sitting and already eating his food, his eyes lit up.

"Is the invite still open?" you asked awkwardly, afraid that he had been only joking earlier about asking you to join him.

"For you, of course," he said, smiling, and pat the empty space next to him on the mattress. "I saved a seat for you."

You gave him a little smile and sat on that specific spot.

"For a second i thought you had changed your mind," he said, chewing his food.

"Oh, well, i wasn't sure if you truly meant it," you admitted, avoiding his eyes at first. "But then i saw you sitting alone. Why aren't you with your friends anyway?"

"I figured you'd just get uncomfortable with them," he shrugged. "And i wanted to be alone with you, even if just for a moment."

You felt your cheeks turning red. "Why?"

He gently put his hand on your chin and turned your head to look at him.

"I want go get to know you better, pretty flower," he smiled, making you turn even more red and you immediately turned your head away, the nickname making you feel funny inside once again.

"Oh," was the only sound you managed to breathe out.

"You know, from the day one i've tried to approach you but you've been ignoring me quite well," he pointed out. "You could add it on your resume as one of your skills."

"Oh, i mean," you said nervously. "I'm not used to guys trying to get close to me before, so i really didn't think much of it."

"Not used to it?" Thanos asked, acting dramatic and overly shocked, putting his hand against his chest and not believing what he was hearing. "You're that gorgeous and guys haven't gone after you? You're lying."

"Stop it," you chuckled and the smile lingered on your lips longer than before. "Maybe i just can't take a hint very easily."

"Well, tell me something about you?" Thanos asked and thought about something for a while. "Hmm, what's your favorite type of flower?"

"Flower?"

"It's for our future date, i need to make sure i'll get you something you like," he explained. "I don't want to get you roses if you don't like roses."

"Oh, well, i don't really know. Nobody ever got me flowers before," you said, the blush sticking on your cheeks like a glue. "I suppose orchids and lilies are pretty."

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.

His words made you feel nice and get butterflies in your stomach, but you really didn't understand what his intentions truly were. You hadn't had many guys to show interest on you before, if any, so you had been used to the fact that you might just stay alone.

You continued your conversation and lost the track of time completely. You asked about his life as a rapper and what his life goals were in the music industry, since that was really the only thing you knew about him outside these games before now talking with him. He asked about your hobbies and in general about your interests - you could sense that he was considering to include some of them to your "date" he had mentioned.

Eventually he changed the subject to the one that you would have prefered to leave alone. The one you hadn't truthfully told even to Dae-ho or Gi-hun yet.

"So, how did you end up here?" Thanos asked. "You know, debts and all."

"Well, i wouldn't want to bother you with that. It's pretty depressing," you said after being quiet for a moment, twirling the rest of your food with your fork. You were a little nervous to open up to him about it now that you were having a nice conversation, him making you even laugh here and there. But for some reason, you had started to become more comfortable around him and able to talk more freely.

"I'd be glad to hear it, if you want to share," Thanos said, encouraging you to tell him, but only if you were comfortable with it.

"Oh, well," you sighed. "The main reason i came here was because my little brother has cancer." You took a deep breath to get the words properly out of your mouth. It was already hard to think about and even harder to talk about it without crying. You tried to say the words as fast as you could, otherwise they would be stuck in your throat. "We don't have money for his treatments, my mom doesn't earn a lot from her work, and if we don't start treating it soon, he will die."

You were looking at your lap, scared to glance back at Thanos. You were feeling your eyes becoming wet and you were afraid you'd start to cry in front of him. He was quiet for a while, speechless. He hadn't been prepared for you having such a heavy reason to be here.

"How old is your brother?" Thanos asked softly.

"He's just 11," you answered and felt tears rising up into your eyes. You hated talking about this because even a single thought of losing your brother broke you. You wiped a tear off your face as soon as it had appeared out of your eye.

"I'm sorry," you chuckled, trying to force yourself to lighten up. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"No, no you didn't ruin anything, it's okay," he assured you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I'm sorry i made you bring it up."

You buried your face on his shoulder.

"I just want to get back home, i don't care how much money i'll get and if it's enough to cover everything," you mumbled. "I just have to go and take care of my brother."

You stayed like that for a while, Thanos comforting you the best he could. Now, the need to protect you at any cost grew even stronger.

☆☆☆

It was time to vote, whether you'd want to stay and play the games or go home with the money earned by far.

Thanos was having mixed feelings. Personally, he would have of course continued the game and played for more money - the current amount wasn't enough to cover all his debts. One more game, that was what had been going on in Thanos' head.

One more game.

But when he turned to look at you, standing further away from him with your group, your gaze stuck on the floor, looking anxious - he felt something sting and break his heart.

Every day here was a new possibility to die. None of you knew what tomorrow's game was, it was always a total surprise until you started playing it.

What if the game tomorrow would be too hard for you and you wouldn't make it? Thanos couldn't live with himself anymore if he had decided to continue the game and survived, but you lost your life, as would your brother.

Player 230.

Thanos stood in front of the two buttons, gaze jumping between them. Before getting to know you, his choice would have been simple. But now?

"Player 230," the pink guard in front of Thanos said, he hadn't realised how long he had been standing there doing nothing. "Please make your choice."

Eventually, against all the odds, Thanos pressed the red button, giving one more point to the X team. He glanced towards Nam-gyu who looked at Thanos like he couldn't believe his eyes what he was seeing. Thanos ignored him and walked to the red side, appearing next to you.

"Told you i'll get you home, pretty flower," Thanos whispered to you.

You looked at him like you were sure you were seeing things. Being here had finally made you to hallucinate. Surely he hadn't chosen to go home only because of you, he couldn't be that attached to you already.

"But you still needed a lot more money," you pointed out, furrowing your eyebrows. You would have understood if he wanted to and chose to stay. You weren't a burden he had to bear.

"And i'll find a way to pay my debts on my own," Thanos answered.

The waiting felt like it took forever. There weren't that many players left anymore, but it felt like everything was happening twice slower than in reality.

Finally, after the last player had voted, you looked at the scores and you felt like your entire world was slowing down even more and you weren't able to get air into your lungs.

The situation was 50-51. The 'O' team won yet again. You wanted to break down and cry, right then and there. When you had seen Thanos approaching you with the red patch on his jacket, somehow you were sure that this time you were going home, as if the decision was depending purely on him.

If just two more people would have voted for X, you'd be on your way home. But no, you had to stay for another game.

"I'm sorry," Thanos said and held your hand, looking genuinely concerned. "I really am."

"It's fine," was all you said until you walked back to your bunk without sparing a single glance at anyone else.

☆☆☆

Laying on your bed on your side you weren't able to sleep. You only stared ahead of you, feeling hopeless. You wanted out of this place so badly and the voting tonight had given you way too much false hope that this could actually be over soon, just to be completely crushed.

You sat up and wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself so you'd be able to sleep atleast a little bit.

You were thinking about your little brother. He deserved so much more, had his entire life ahead of him. If you were able to take his cancer to you, you would take it any day and let him live. What if he had passed away during your stay here? What if you'd go back home and meet only your mother who had been crying for days and refused to eat, sleep or do anything?

You had to bite your lip to keep the sobs inside you, afraid you'd wake up the people sleeping near you.

"Can't sleep huh?" Thanos whispered, you didn't look at him. You had seen him approaching from the corner of your eye, even though you hadn't fully turned to look at him. "Listen," he continued and took your hand in his. "I'm going to make sure you'll get out of here, okay?"

"And how are you going to do that?" you scoffed, accidentally letting out a single sob. "You don't even know the next game."

He sat down on the bed with you and took your hand in his. He didn't know how he could comfort you.

"I don't, but i'll do whatever i can to get you home," he said and tried to give you a comforting smile. "I'll protect you, no matter what, and when the votings come, i'm absolutely sure that we'll get to leave this place."

"What are you going to do? Cheat the system?"

"If i have to," he smirked. He hesitated for a second until lifted his hand to wipe the remaining tears off your cheek.

☆☆☆

It was time for the next game. You arrived into a room which had four shapes on one of the walls.

The same symbols as in playing cards.

♤♡◇♧

The game was called Dalgona. It was exactly the same game Gi-hun had talked to you about in the beginning when he had thought Dalgona must be the second game like three years ago. Only the shapes had now changed.

The reason why they had suddenly brought dalgona back to this year was unclear to you. Unclear to everybody. By now everyone had thought that only the first game was the same and they had changed the rest of them to new ones.

Players were commanded to line up in front of one of the shapes, chosen by their own will. Gi-hun immediately told you to choose the diamond, it would be the easiest one.

Thanos let you go for the diamond, but he chose the heart, even though you insisted that he'd take the diamond too.

"Come on, it's not that much harder, i'll be fine," he assured you with a smile, as if it wasn't a big deal.

If you were going to die just because you accidentally cracked a wrong piece of a cookie off, that would be super embarrassing to explain in a funeral. Although, dying here you wouldn't even get a funeral.

You sat down on the floor, legs crossed, and the time started running down, one second at a time. You took the needle in your shaky hands and carefully started carving the lines of the shape, afraid to press too hard and crack the cookie in half any minute.

One thing you were afraid as well was when someone would be shot, your hand would accidentally slip due to the loud noise and make you fail too.

Thanos took quick glances at you once in a while, to make sure you were still sitting there. His hands were sweating and his heart beating fast.

The only sounds during the game were only the gunshots and the voice announcing which players had just been eliminated. You flinched each time, even though you had tried to prepare yourself for that.

This wasn't a game where Thanos would be able to help you and he hated it. On the first game, he had protected you by running in front of you. On the second game, you had other players in your group to help you. On the third game, he had saved you by taking you to a room with him when you had been left all alone.

Now, you were all on your own, he wasn't able to say a single word for you, you all had to stay quiet and only concentrate on your own task. He didn't think you were weak, not at all, he just needed to be there as a backup plan, ready to catch and save you if something went wrong.

Thanos was afraid he'd crack the cookie any second. If he was to die now, there would be one person less to vote for X and get you back home, though he couldn't know how many people from the blue side would be killed today.

He wasn't sure when had been the moment when he had decided that protecting you had become his number one priority. It just naturally came to him.

On the distance, Thanos saw one player to use a lighter to heat up the needle and then poke the cookie. By the looks of her face, she was subtly looking around her to see if the guards were watching her. He only had the pills inside his cross and they weren't much of a help for him right now.

Thanos was glad that you had chosen the easiest shape and not spades or clubs. He did believe in you and was sure to see you alive on the other side.

His heart stopped when he cracked a small piece off from the tip of the heart when he had completed the task. It was only a very tiny piece and the cookie still looked like a complete heart, but he didn't know how detailed and harsh the system was here. Thanos saw a guard approaching him and showed the heart to him, hiding the slightly broken tip with his finger as he held it up.

Pass.

Thanos let out a breath of relief, being able to breathe again properly. He didn't know why, but that was one of the most stressful games by far.

You were still carving yours as Thanos walked outside, but you weren't far behind. Just barely 20 seconds later, you had finished your task as well.

Pass.

☆☆☆

"Señorita, excuse me," Thanos said, making you stop before you managed to go and talk to Dae-ho, who had finished the challenge before you. Thanos was standing closer than you had expected, though he had seen you first.

"Yes, señor?" you said back sarcastically.

"I have a gift for you," he smiled.

"A gift?"

"I'll give you my heart if you'll let me have yours, after this is all over," he said, genuine kindness in his eyes.

"What are you on about?" That was such a cheesy and odd line to say out of nowhere, but it did make your heart skip a beat.

"When we get home tomorrow, i'll take you out soon, after you've seen your brother."

"How are you so sure we'll get home? People might vote to stay."

"Have a little bit hope, pretty flower."

He took your hand in his, you didn't resist.

"Keep this safe for me, okay?" he said and put something in your hand, closing your fist around it. Then, he left without another word.

You opened your hand, seeing the heart he had carved out from the cookie laying on your palm.

☆☆☆

The fourth game had eliminated only 29 players in total, so there was 72 left.

Thanos tried to count the players how many of them had blue patches and red patches on their jackets, but he lost count and wasn't sure if he had counted some people twice or not at all.

Thanos went to the bathroom where he found his former group.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," Nam-gyu slowly said and crossed his arms on his chest. He had three other guys around him, one of them Min-su. "Coming back to us after betraying us like that? I think not."

He stepped closer to Thanos.

"Sorry to say, but i don't think you're welcome anymore."

"I don't give a shit about you, Nam-su," Thanos said and didn't care to hear him trying to correct Thanos for saying his name wrong again. "Tonight, you better all vote for X or tomorrow i may not be in as good mood as right now, seeing you," Thanos said loudly and then glanced at Min-su, who still had the blue patch on his jacket. Thanos walked towards him and trapped him between himself and a wall. Thanos tried to change the expression on his face to more kind and sweet. "You'll do that for me, right Min-su?"

Thanos gave him a sweet smile, but Min-su hesitated without a word, both Nam-gyu and Thanos looking at him. Min-su wasn't entirely sure which side was safer for him to choose.

"What's up with you anyway? Don't tell me that woman has gotten into your head this badly. I'm not going home yet when there's more money to be earned."

"You can earn your money elsewhere," Thanos stated, gritting his teeth.

"Seriously, dude. I get that she's hot but-"

"One more word and you'll lose a tooth," Thanos threatened, pointing at him with his finger.

To be honest, Thanos wasn't sure how he had fallen so hard for you in such a little time. He had never been so smitten about a woman before, but there was something different about you, and he needed to know you better, no matter what he had to do to achieve it.

☆☆☆

The votings came and this time, it was easier for him to press X than last time. The money he had earned by far wasn't enough for his debts, but he'd figure it out how to get the rest when you had managed to get out of here.

Both of you had now voted and were only waiting for the result. Thanos glanced at you and you looked like you were going to be sick. He took your hand in his, making you jump a little bit for the sudden touch, but you let your fingers wrap between his. He gave you a comforting squeeze.

Internally, Thanos felt terrified. What if he had only given you false promises and you'd have to stay for the fifth game again? You were so broken yesterday that he didn't think he'd be able to see the same look on your face again this fast. You would definitely lose any trust you still might have for his words, not believe anything he would say to you anymore.

You hid your eyes with your left hand, not wanting to watch how the scores were changing and how much X was losing to O.

Then, all the votes were in and for a moment Thanos' heart stopped by looking at the score.

37-35.

"Y/N," Thanos whispered, finally using your real name and not only the nickname he had chosen, and brushed your left hand as a sign to let it drop from your face. "You can look now."

When you saw the scores on the broad, your knees felt so weak that you had to cling on Thanos' jacket not to fall on the floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and you broke down in tears.

"Oh my god," you laughed between the tears. "Thanos. Oh my god."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, startling Thanos at first how you pressed your body against his, but he wrapped his arms around you securely. Surprisingly, a hint of red was rising on his cheeks, along with a smile.

"I can go back home," you said against his jacket.

You pulled back and without thinking, you pressed a light kiss on Thanos' cheek.

"Thank you."

"So," Thanos lingered and took your hands in his. "I'll pick you up on Saturday?"

You bit your lip. "Okay."

☆☆☆

A/N: I'm not sure what i think about this compared to the first part, but i hope you liked it 🫶🏻

Tags:

@justsisse

@septywitch

[strwbrychffoncke]

"—baby take off my clothes cause i got somethin' to show ya,, 1.9k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: your plan to make rafayel stay with you a little longer before his newest art exhibition works a little too well.... contains: nsfw! lnds rafayel x afab!reader ,mc!reader ,reader is wearing a dress ,teasing (giving) ,u get carried ,kissing ,making out ,marking ,biting ,missionary(?) ,needy!raf ,kinda whiny!raf ,overstimulation (brief) ,creampie ,some cute fluff afterglow ,implied cunnilingus ,thomas cameo at the end lmao ,think thats it note: (mostly edited pls standby....) released much later than i intended but i had sm trouble writing but we somehow prevailed..........

-

"do you really have to go, raf?"

he lets out a long sigh, strokes from the paintbrush light and airy on the canvas in front of him.

"i already told you that you should come with me."

"but i want you to stay here with me," you almost whine, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind and leaning forward, pressing you body against his.

his breath stutters ever so slightly at your clinginess, heart picking up its speed in his chest.

"and besides...."

you rest your head on his shoulder, lips just centimeters away from his ear.

"isn't this a little much for an art exhibition?"

your voice is a hushed whisper, the sheer sound and feeling of it sending sparks through rafayel's entire body.

he's long since lost interest in his current piece, vouching to save it for later as he feels you unravel your arms and step back to give him room to turn around.

and rafayel feels his breath hitch at the sight before him.

its nothing extravagant, but maybe the simplicity of it is what stirs something up inside of him: you're wearing a silk pink slip dress, the color resembling a seashell you once found on the beach and gifted to rafayel, for good luck you'd said with a smile— and he feels like he was feeling that look right this moment, being able to look at you like this).

the neckline is just low enough for some cleavage to peek through, the top part hugging your breasts so nicely, simple crystal-like ornaments embellishing the outline (reminding him of the way light reflects off of the ocean's surface) while the bottom accentuates your waist and falls perfectly around your hips, ending just above your ass— if you so much as bent over slightly, you'd easily flash someone.

"'too much?'" rafayel mumbles your words back to you, hands reaching out to grab a hold of your hips.

"if you ask me, this is too little."

you can't help but let a laugh slip as he pulls you closer, hands pinching and caressing the silk of the fabric hugging your hips, gaze roaming up your body before making eye contact with you.

"no way am i letting anyone else see you in this."

his eyes are narrowed but his expression resembles a pout as he holds you close against him.

ah, there was that possessive side of him.

you laugh again in amusement, short and sweet, hands moving up to cover his momentarily before slowly trailing up his arms then up to hold his face, one of his hands shooting up to wrap around your wrist, turning his head towards it and planting a kiss directly onto the pulse point.

you pull him closer towards you, leaning down just slightly as if you had some special secret reserved for his ears only (despite the studio being occupied by only you both).

"then take it off."

in the next second, you capture his lips with yours, and as rafayel kisses back with equal and slowly growing fervor, the last thing on his mind is the art exhibition he's supposed to be attending in a little under an hour.

-

rafayel thinks you must've cast some sort of spell on him

since the very first time he met you to this life, you've had him wrapped around your finger without even trying— the sea god, folding to your every will.

sometimes, he thinks you forget the sheer amount of power you hold over him.

you don't know when exactly he's carried you to his bedroom, but you feel the soft mattress beneath you as he continues devouring your lips, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close as his hands roam over your body and slowly begin sliding the silk straps of your cute dress down, eager to free your breasts. he doesn't waste a second in leaning down to kiss and mark one, sucking hard on the nipple while squeezing and prodding the other in his warm hand.

"hah, raf—ah—"

your hands bury themselves in his unkempt hair, tugging at his lavender locks, pleasured sounds filling the room as rafayel switches to the neglected one, swirling his tongue around the bud, taking his time marking your tits in pretty bruises and bites.

after a couple of minutes he releases the mound with a pop, pulling back slightly, hair a mess and panting, taking in the sight of you.

he leans up towards your face once more. "you're terrible, y'know?" he mumbles against your lips before stealing kiss after kiss from them. "invading my mind like this... look what you do to me, princess."

he pins your wrists against the mattress, swallowing your whines when he bucks his hips between your thighs— against your dampening panties.

patience wearing thin, he leans back to his full height, ridding himself of his pants and freeing his hard, leaking length from their confines.

you feel your mouth water at the sight, wanting nothing more than to be filled of him completely.

rafayel smirks at the sight, stroking himself a few times before grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you impossibly closer, groaning at your choice of panties— a thong-shaped one with lace, color matching your dress— sliding them down your legs and tossing them to the floor. he grabs hold of your thighs, spreading you open, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder and holding it there with one hand, other aligning himself with your leaking entrance.

"ready, princess?"

he doesn't wait for your answer.

with a single thrust, he buries himself completely inside of you, immediately moaning at the feeling of your walls hugging him tight at the sudden intrusion and growing more aroused at the moan you let out, back arching off the bed and gripping the sheets tight.

already impatient, his hips quickly form a rhythm, throwing his head back and panting into the air of the room, pleasure heightened by hearing your sweet whines and groans.

"sl-slow, slow down, raf—"

"can't— you can take it, can't you? the way you're— ahh— squeezing me tells me en-ough—"

his voice is strained and god he sounds so needy despite being the one on top, and he is— he can never get enough of you; no matter how much time you spend together, its never enough.

he's been patient, so patient, and every day with you is a blessing and a curse because he always wants more.

and you can feel it in the way he's thrusting into you, beads of sweat forming on his body, hotly panting and whining as you squeeze his cock because he always felt too good to imagine.

you think he's a bad influence. his neediness has rubbed off on you.

but he's more than willing to give every part of himself to you in every way you desire.

"ah—!"

"that feel good, princess? there?"

he pries the leg against the mattress wider, granting him more space between you as he continues hitting the same spot within you that seemed to make you flutter around him.

at this point, he knew your body and mind exceptionally well, making his mark on you in every way that he could.

"you feel too good, too good— hah, ahh— should buy you more of those pretty dresses, yeah?"

you huff out a laugh that's quickly cut off by a moan, throwing your head back deeper into the mattress, hands flying up to grip his strong arms hard as you feel yourself coming undone.

"close— so close, rafa-yel, please—"

"gonna— hah— cum inside, ah—"

your arms reach up around his neck again, pulling him closer to kiss him.

your tongues dance to their own tune as his hips slam into yours, and with some final particularly hard thrusts you gush around his cock, breaking the kiss as you cry out in pleasure.

rafayel lets your thigh down in favor of leaning his body against yours, keeping you in place as his lips trail down your jawline towards your neck, sucking marks into the sensitive skin as he chases his own orgasm.

"too— much, too much, raf—"

you're whining into his ear, sensitive from your orgasm, overstimulation intense, legs wrapping around his waist and tugging him impossibly closer against you to try to ground yourself in any way.

"so good, so good, princess, i'm gonna cum—"

with a couple more thrusts and a harsh bite to your shoulder, he spills himself inside of you, cry escaping your lips at the sensation of his teeth as his warmth fills you.

he rides out his high with a few more languid thrusts, planting soft kisses against his marks on your neck and shoulder before his movements completely cease.

neither of you speaks for a long moment, only holding each other close as you both catch your breath.

you rake your hands through his messy hair (courtesy of you), giggling as he pushes into your touch, eyes flitting up to you.

"so needy," you jest with a little smile.

rafayel lets out a scoff, lifting his head to look at you properly.

"says the cutie that was vying for my attention," a teasing smile tugs at his lips. "it seems i'm rubbing off on you," he proclaims, all too smugly.

"you're a bad influence," you huff, pinching his cheek.

"your bad influence," he winks and you roll your eyes, reaching to peck the same cheek you pinched.

you both stare at each other for another long moment before the artist moves to get off of you, standing at his full height, holding your thighs as he slowly pulls out, rubbing them in an act of comfort when you let out a small whimper at the loss.

"hey," you breathe out, lifting yourself up onto your elbows. "aren't you going to be late?" you tilt your head, remembering the reasoning behind this passionate night in the first place.

he lowers himself to the ground, face level with your heat, watching the globs of cum drip and stain the sheets below. he can feel himself get hard again at the sight as his hands give your thighs a gentle squeeze, planting a kiss on the inside of one before his dark gaze meets yours.

"who says i'm still going?"

-

epilogue:

thomas called the familiar number for what felt like the upteenth time that evening, trying not to lose his mind outside of the venue where more and more guests began showing up.

"where the hell is he???"

by the time and hour had passed since the designated time of arrival, thomas had already baked up some half-assed excuse as to why rafayel wouldn't be showing his face at yet another exhibition.

thomas lets out a frustrated sigh once he gets the chance to take another breather.

"at least i have the paintings," he mumbles to himself, swirling the glass of champagne in his glass as he fishes out his phone from his pocket to check for any update.

1 new message.

he unlocks his phone to check it out, and in the next second, he's gripping it so hard he thinks he might crack the screen.

"oops left my phone off thx for covering for me"

the animated sticker that accompanies the message does nothing to quell his frustrations as he shoves his phone back into his pocket without bothering to answer and downing the champagne in one go.

he makes his way back inside, deciding he'll need a lot more than just one glass tonight.

-

a/n: why is rafayel so hard to write for i have to scroll through art to get inspo but i love him very much :x

-

[xwinterwidowx]

so i decided to combine two fic ideas i had into one ginormous one-this took me like an hour so enjoy!

Shadow was never normal. He was raised by humans, his sister died, and above all, he was in love with his "rival". He wasn't exactly rivals with Sonic, but he fought him. He couldn't show emotion to save his life. But he was hopelessly, desperately in love with Sonic the Hedgehog.

One day, he was walking on a path somewhere he didn't know because Sonic was making him lose his mind. Sonic usually did that to him. It just took him a while to figure out that he didn't hate Sonic. He loved him.

He was walking when he saw this singular flower on the ground. He knew they were called daffodils. Maria probably taught him that, although he couldn't remember at the moment. He paused in his walk and picked it up. He looked at it, and his first thought was 'it looks like Sonic.' It's disgustingly bright yellow color made him think of how bubbly and energetic Sonic was. He quickly shook the thought out of his mind and continued to look at the flower. He stared at it for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He noticed another flower that looked the exact same and began walking towards it when his eyes landed on something that made his stomach drop.

It was a giant field of the same yellow flowers that Shadow thought looked like Sonic.

"You've got to be shitting me," he scoffed. Despite that, he walked into the field and sat down. He felt calmer there than he had in the past... ever. Except when he was with Sonic. That was always different. He would never admit it, but he loved being around Sonic. He loved seeing him doing literally anything. The two of them were actually close. Shadow just pretended that he hated him so he wouldn't have to admit his feelings to anyone. But he and Sonic were so alike it was almost scary sometimes. They had both lost people close to them, they'd both lost their homes. They'd bonded over that during late nights when neither of them could sleep. Shadow thought about those nights often and if they actually meant anything, or if it was just Sonic needing to talk to someone. Shadow laid in that field of Sonic flowers for a while before he headed back to the house.

"Shads, you're back! Where'd you go?" Sonic jumps off the couch he was sitting on when he sees Shadow walk in through the door. Shadow's heart beat mildly faster when he saw him.

"Just on a walk," he mumbles, heading upstairs, wanting to avoid talking to Sonic as much as he could. And for two weeks straight, he went to that field every single day, because he couldn't tell Sonic how he felt.

Could he?

Amy eventually helped him man hedgehog up and ask Sonic out.

"You just have to talk to him!"

"I don't know how to talk to myself! How do I talk to him?" Shadow hisses.

"I'll help you!" Amy smiled.

"Sonic?" Shadow walks into his room one day.

"Yeah, Shads?"

"Do you want to... go on a walk with me?" he asks nervously.

"Sure! Where are we going?" Sonic gets off his bed.

"To this place I found a few weeks ago."

"You found somewhere weeks ago and you didn't tell me?" Shadow rolls his eyes and starts walking. Amy is downstairs, giggling as she sees them walking off. Sonic follows Shadow, talking about things he didn't understand, but he listened nonetheless. Shadow gently nudged Sonic towards the direction of the field, and the second Sonic saw it, he shut up.

Sonic never shut up.

Shadow looked at him and let a small smile creep onto his face.

"Shadow, this is... beautiful," Sonic mumbled.

"Let's sit down." Shadow walked over to a spot where the flowers were less dense, so he wouldn't be sitting on any of them. Sonic rested his head on Shadow's shoulder, who in return moved slightly closer.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Because Amy told me to," he murmured.

"What?" Sonic looked up at him, confused.

"I asked Amy how I should ask you out, and she told me to take you somewhere I like. I found this place a few weeks ago, and I liked it because the flowers remind me of you. They're so bright and cheerful. Just like you." Sonic slowly smiled, looking at him.

"It took you too long to ask me out." Shadow scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.

"Better late than never. Isn't that what you always say?"

"Don't quote me." Sonic kissed him, and they both roll over onto the flowers.

"You're annoying," Shadow mumbled.

"I know."

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

hwy so can I hVe a scenario with kurt wagner where him and his s/o are in bed together. They have been together for long enough where both have been in bed with one another a ton of times. S/o notices some particular scars along his back that don’t look like they’re from battles he got into. When he lays on his stomach or side. S/o didn’t notice those before despite admiring him sometimes. They look much older and deeper and never healed properly. S/o reaches over and gently touches them and runs their hand along them. Feels a bit like a massage. They don’t know what they are from, but to them it does not matter. He been through something really bad before they waaay met? (Thinking about those scars from his circus days).

~Our Scars Remind Us That The Past Is Real~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 0.3k

Warnings: we mention scars but not much

Genre: mostly fluff

Summary: Laying in bed you notice scars on your boyfriend's back

A/N: Thank you for requesting! <3

***

Kurt rolls over next to you and you smile at his sleeping form. You're having a lazy day today and he's been in and out of naps most of the afternoon while you catch up on the show you've been watching the last couple of months.

You run a hand through his hair and then trail it down. He settles against your touch as it slides over his neck and shoulders. You glance from the TV to his exposed back. You notice something on the skin of his back.

"Whydyastah-" Kurt says- something, but you can't quite catch it because he's speaking against his pillow.

"Kurt?" You prompt quietly. Maybe he's barely conscious and talking in his sleep.

"Why'd you stop?" He sighs.

"Oh, hi baby I didn't realize you were awake again."

"Yeah, I was just enjoying you touching me, but then you stopped."

"Sorry my darling, I- well I noticed some scarring on your back and got distracted I suppose."

"Oh that." Kurt hums.

"I've never noticed them before."

"They're pretty old." He shrugs.

"Yeah I thought so, but I'm just surprised I haven't seen them until now."

"Do you spend a lot of time staring at my back or something?" Kurt snorts.

"Well, not your back specifically, but I spend a lot of time looking at you overall. I mean, we've even showered together, I feel like I should've noticed these at some point." You frown.

"I mean I don't think it's a big deal, I'm covered in other scars anyway."

"Sure sure, I was just surprised by them, is all. You asked why I stopped." You explain.

You trace your fingers over the scars, soft touches, you're sure they don't hurt or anything, but you always touch him with care. You can't help it, life has been very difficult for him, and all you want for him is peace.

"Liebling?" Kurt hums.

"Yes my love?"

"Where did you go my heart?" He asks.

"Where did I...?"

"I lost you for a moment there."

"I'm just thinking about how much I love you." You kiss his forehead.

"I love you too." He says.

You won't ask him about how he got the scars. It doesn't really matter. It won't change that you love him, or how much. If he ever wants to tell you more of course you'll always listen, but until then, all you care about is that he's here, with you, and whatever horrors he faced he'll hopefully never have to deal with again.

***

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 36

ISAT and Two Hats spoilers below! CW: Mentions of Death, Fear of Mortality.

Gotta be honest, not suuuper happy about this chapter, but it's at a point where I'm okay with it and I just kinda need it out of the way so I can move on with the rest of the fic.

(Siffrin) |Isabeau|

"You... You died? Like really actually died?..." (Isa asked with a mortified look, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as you explain the events of the last loop.)

"Y-Yeah... Vale saw me, just lying there... and I... I saw something weird after... something I'm scared might have been real." (You continue your story. You hated putting this burden on him, but having to explain this to everyone else would be too much for you to handle right now. You sit alone together in your tent once more as Vale went off to have a moment to themself before the bomb dropped.)

"Saw something? Like... like after you died?" (You respond with a hesitant nod.) "... Was that why you woke up like that?" (You nod again, taking a deep breath before you continue.)

"... I saw the island... I saw the King... I started to remember it all, everything... it all vanished when I woke up but... I didn't want it! I didn't want any of it! Not if it meant I'd lose all of you!" (You realize you've started shouting again a little too late, feeling tears pouring down your face again before Isa grips you in a tight hug to help calm you.)

"Shhhh, it's okay Sif. It's gone, we're all here, you haven't lost us, and we haven't lost you." (He sighs out, you can tell he was saying it for his own sake as much as he was for yours. You grip back tighter and nuzzle close.)

"I love you Isa..."

"I love you too Sif." (He replies in kind before gently kissing the top of your head.)

"Uhm... Siffrin? Isabeau? Is everything okay?" (Mira's voice calls through the thin tent walls. You figure you got a bit too loud...)

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

(You mumble and grumble under your hat as you hug yourself in your cloak, forming a make shift little tent out of the two while secluded in the larger tent, and still it didn't feel like enough to cover your shame. You made Isa do your dirty work again... you're such a coward... No! No, that's not true. Isa offered, he knows you're going through a lot and is happy to help. Stop being so hard on yourself, it's okay to need help! You mentally shout at yourself, trying to practice better self talk like you learned so long ago.)

(You decide to make better use of your time, digging out the little bird plush you were crafting for Isa and going back to work on it, softly mumbling your little request to the universe.) "Please be cute, please be cute, please be cute."

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

|You sit in the middle tent with Odile and Mira as you fill them in on everything in slightly hushed tones.|

"What do you mean it wasn't him that looped?" |Odile raises a brow, you can see all the various theories in her head shattering and reforming into new ones from that single statement.|

"I mean just that... Vale said they saw Sif... y'know... and they looped shortly after. Sif was talking about a dream he had during it, said it felt real, said he saw the island, the king, started remembering stuff... I don't see why Vale would lie about something like that, and from how shaken up Sif was, I think that was more than just a dream..."

"B-But then what does that mean?! Why wouldn't Siffrin be looping anymore?!" |Mira asks in a panic, while Odile just silently thinks to herself, hand on her chin.|

"I don't know... But with any luck Odile will have it figured out by the next bar we reach!" |You tease to help relieve the tension, causing Mira to snort in a laugh and Odile to give a slightly annoyed smirk.|

"You're really never going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope! Besides, as important as this is to figure out, we still have our plan set. We get to Bambouche, then we start to figure all this out. Right now we just gotta try and be there for them, the both of them. That means no bombarding them with questions about all this right now, okay m'dame?" |You give a playfully stern look at her with a waggle of your finger. She lets out a laugh before sighing.|

"Fine, fine. You're right, not a good idea to interrogate someone in a crisis anyways."

"What about Bonnie? Are we just going to keep this a secret from them?"|Mira asks, not liking the idea. Before you can respond the tent flap shifts, letting light pour in past a small silhouette. You sigh softly.|

"I was gonna say it's not like we could if we tried... You heard everything, didn't you Bonnie?" |They step inside from the light, their face twisted in a mix of emotions but clearly trying to fight it all back, wanting to seem grown up. They give a little nod.| "You okay?..." |They hesitate before nodding a bit heavier, still trying to act tough. You place a hand gently on their back.| "We're gonna figure this all out, and Sif's gonna be okay, I promise!"

"Do you want me to help you make breakfast, Bonnie? I'm sure Siffrin will feel better about all of this after a meal!" |They sniffle and nod, wiping the slight tears they were fighting so hard to keep back.|

[tkwrites]

I've been trying to clear out my camera roll these past few days. I've got a habit of screenshotting things to remind me to go back when I have time to actually read it. I came across a bunch of bts asks you answered, which I'm a sucker for!

If you have the time or want a break from whatever you are working on now, I'd love to know any initial thoughts or a directors cut/thoughts you'd like to share. For any of your works that you've not previously shared about, the list is probably quite long, so a lucky dip of sorts 🥰

I've had this in my inbox for a while now, but I wasn't sure what behind the scenes to give you.

As I was working on Hawaii today, I was looking through an old document so I could pull some ideas into the new plot and I remembered something about Five Days of Joy.

That entire family reunion fic bloomed from two scenes: Sarah and Quinn making out on the couch, and the first time he sees her in her black bikini. The black bikini scene was originally a flashback in the Hawaii snapshot.

It's wild to think that 1,000 words of what was supposed to be nothing more than a plot device spun out into a 16,000 word multi-day snapshot. I’d forgotten about that fact until I opened the old document to pull some detail into the new plot.

I've put both the original and the updated version of this scene below the cut. Warning for mild spoilers of the upcoming snapshot of the Hughes's in Hawaii before the Sarah and Kylee show up to surprise their guys.

The only time her cover was nearly blown, she had all her swimming suits laid out over her bed, deciding what to pack when Quinn called her over face-time.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, when she sat at her desk and propped the phone up so she could continue to curl her hair while they talked. 

Trying to keep her voice level, she told him a partial truth, “Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding which suit to wear."

They were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 

He immediately jumped on her story, "not the black one."

"Why not?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder. "I thought you liked that one."

"I do like that one, you look incredible in it." 

Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.

The first time he'd seen her in it was at the family reunion earlier in the summer. She'd come out of the house, laughing and talking with his aunt, and he'd completely lost the thought he'd been sharing with Luke.

It then continued on the same as it does in The Family Reunion.

Here's how it goes in the new Hawaii Snapshot:

“Oh, damn,” she said as the scrunchie she’d been getting ready to wrap around the end of her curler flicked off her fingers, sailing into her closet. 

When she got up to retrieve it, he got a clear view of her room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the riot of color covering her bed. Her space was usually very tidy, but today, she had a bunch of swimsuits spread out over her patchwork quilt.

“Are you going somewhere?” 

Sarah stopped, mentally cursing herself for letting the hair tie get away from her. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see the suits she had spread out so she could decide what to pack. 

“Hu?” she asked, deciding to feign ignorance. cos

“You have swimming suits spread all over your bed?” 

Jack glanced at his mom with wide eyes upon hearing that. He was going to be so pissed if Sarah was about to blow the surprise.

Trying to keep her voice level, she told him a partial truth, “Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding what suit to wear.” 

They were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 

He jumped on her story immediately, "not the black one."

"Why not?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder at the offending garment, where it lay on her pillow, already in the yes pile. "I thought you liked that one."

"I do like that one, you look incredible in it." 

Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.

"So I can only wear it around you?" she teased, bringing him back to reality. 

"Well, no," he flustered, caught in his imagined jealousy of some guy seeing her at the beach with her friend, thinking she was hot and single. 

She laughed. "I promise I'll wear it the next time we go to the beach together."

Hope you enjoyed this BTS, and that it's getting you excited for the upcoming Snapshot!

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Big brother is a prince!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: The ouran host club get an unexpected visitor ➼ what to expect:  "you need him as much as he needs you" ➼ warnings: None ➼ Part ten | Part eleven

"I am scared to think of the jokes the twins are going to make today" You raise an eyebrow at the sight of the host clubs attire for the day. Hikaru gasps "We are gentlemen y/n, we would never, you are the one with a dirty mind" You roll your eyes, laughing as you sit down at your usual table, pulling out your notebook.

"Sure" you roll your eyes through a laugh. "Just you wait y/n we will convince the boss that you should start wearing the costumes aswell" the door creaks open strangely early for the time of day "Oh. what an unnaturally young guest" Tamaki notes, low and behold stood in the doorway it a little girl that couldn't be older than five years old. "Well, glad you're here, my little lost kitty cat" he extends his hand to the little girl.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

Big brother is a prince!

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

"Little kitty-cat, why have you come to see us today?" taaki asks, leaning down to make eye contact with the girl, who raises her hand to point at the club "It's a reverse harem!"

you nearly spit out your tea from over at the table at what the girl said, convinced tha you must have heard wrong. The hosts freeze up for the same reason "That can't be right. I must've heard wrong. Maybe there's still some water in my ear from when i went swimming" Tamaki bashes his head.You want to point out that he went swimming days ago but you also want to believe that you both heard wrong.

"Water in the ear that's gotta be it"

"I'm sure we just heard her wrong, there's no way this cute little girl said the words 'reverse harem' something's going on with our ears"

"There's debauchery here!" the girl exclaims again,at this point there was no denying that you had heard her right. "Yay! There's debauchery here, isn't there?"

"You're the glasses character" she points to Kyoya

"You're the boy-lolita, and the stoic type" she points to Honey and Mori.

"Twincest"

"The sex appeal" she points to you, a horrified look taking over your face. "I mean I'll take it but oh my god"

"And the bookworm!"

"hmm" she turns to tamaki who stumbles in fear, the girls eyes widen at the sight of him "Big brother?"

"My brother’s blond- you must be him!” Then, much to his surprise, she throws herself into Tamaki’s arms, hanging from his neck and kicking her feet.

“You never told us about this.”

“Since when do you have a little sister?” The twins accuse.

“I don’t- I’m definitely an only child- at least as far as I know…” Tamaki fears, holding the squirming little girl so that she doesn’t fall. "I must admit you two do look similar" You point out.

“I want to know if ‘glasses character’ is superior to 'big brother.’” Kyoya wonders, clearly still slightly tense between the two of them after what had happened at your apartment.

“Does that matter? I can’t believe she called me a bookworm.” Haruhi stews, thoroughly unhappy with her assigned character.

"You study all the time Haruhi, I got sex appeal, from a child. I'm horrified" you stare at the scene before you with concern. "They're not wrong though" the twins comment, you laugh.

"Excuse me. You want to tell me your name, little one?" Tamaki asks, slightly frazzled from the interaction. "Kirimi!"

"Kirimi?" Haruhi questions, wondering who would name their child afer salmon. "Kirmi-chan, I'm afraid you've made a mistake. I'm really sorry but I don't have a younger sister"

Tears begin to well up in Kirmi's eyes "Are you sure? You're blond just like me" it is at that moment that you know that Tamaki isn't going to be able to resist "Well, that is true..."

He picks her up "i give in! As of this moment, I'm your new big brother! You're so cute!" he spins her around.

"I know you get carried away by emotion , but don't you think it's irresponsible to make such empty promises?" Haruhi points out, watching him spin around Kirimi.

"Don't listen to that mean Haruhi. I'm not irresponsible. Come home with me and I'll look after you" you sigh as you watch Tamaki definitely being irresponsible. "What do you think we should do?" You turn to Kyoya.

"We should probably try to find out if she actually has a brother at this school"

"Kirimi"

"Kirimi"

The black magic club door appears once again in the music room yet this time the person who steps out in a way resembles Tamaki, with long blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Hey, uh, who they hell are you?"

"He looks like a foreigner!"

"What's up with that? How come the door looks different all of a sudden"

"Oh Kirimi" the boy steps out from the door way "Master, you forgot your cloak" a maid and butler steps out from behind him wrapping a dark cloak around the boy, which is the point that everyone realises who it actually is. "Nekozawa-senpai?" they all question in tandem.

"Master Umehito is terribly vunerable to any kind of bright light for that reason, if he doesn'tshroud himself in black, he will fall victim to the brightness of the outside world, and will undoubtedly collapse and just to be comfortable, he even has to cover his beautiful blond hair with a dark wig " The maid explains.

"On the other hand his sister, mistress Kirimi, is frightened of dark, dimly lit places" The butler chimes in.

"So this little girl is Nekozawa-senpai's younger sister?" Haruhi asks.

"You are quite insightful. Yes, that will be correct sir."

Tamaki puts Kirmi down, leaving her to stare in confusion at her brother. "Kirimi, so this is where you've been hiding." he approaches her in his typical way which certainly is nightmare fuel to a child.

"Big brother save me from the monster!" Kirimi launches herself back into Tamaki's arms.

"Please don't be scared, I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is Belzenef, the nekozawa family had worshipped cats for generations"

"You know, I get the feeling she's not scared of the puppet call me crazy, but I think it's you" Haruhi points out, Kyoya nodding behind her. "It's probably your clothes, we'll help you change, 'kay?" The twins slide in.

"Oh! Don't do that! It's far too bright! I may die!" Nekozawa-senpai cries as the twins pull at his cloak.

"I know! Why don't we just darken the room!" Honey goes to draw closed the curtains of the music room, Krimi bursts out crying "Don't! I'm afraid of the dark!"

"Don't worry little one!"

"Either way, someone's unhappy" Kyoya points out.

"It's a tragedy that these two siblings are such polar opposites. As a result, they have come to be known as the Nekozawa family's Romeo and Juliet"

"But Romeo and Juliet weren't brother and sister. I think their situation was a little different" Haruhi points out.

"Oh I'm well aware of that, to be honest it's something I just came up with on the fly. Pretty impressive huh? I thought it might make the story more dramatic"

"Oh I see"

"We were sent by the master's family to get our beloved mistress Kirimi back home safely"

"Is the rest of the family..." "As out of touch as you three are?"

"How dare you say such a terrible thing! The Nekozawas are a distinguished family! They're descendants of the Tokarev dynasty of russia!"

The host club's heads tilted to the side at the name "Tokarev, huh?" Kyoya questions. "Wait, you mean Romanov, right?"

"There's a legend that says once every few hundred years, a Nekozawa child is born. A child who is destined to be possessed by that darkness, exactly like our master Umehito" there is something about the maid that was starting to remind you of renge with her flare for the dramatic.

"That legend may or may not be true"

"What do you mean it may or may not be true?"

"Is it or isn't it?"

"Mistress Kirmi fell in love with the handsome fairytale prince of an odler brother she had seen in portraits. However, as a result of his condition, the master is unable to go near his sister without being shrouded in black. Once she learned that her older brother was enrolled in a high school here, she decided to go looking for him. That's what brought her to your host club. We've tried to keep her comfort by reading her bed time stories about princely characters like her brother, but we ran out of stories so we've started reading her shoujo manga that had princely characters in them and i'm afraid she's become completely addicted"

"Shoujo manga?" Haruhi questions "Oh...that's not..." you cringe at the idea of shoujo manga being read to sucha small child. "Is there really debauchery in shoujo manga?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to haruhi" you shake your head. "But Sashimi-chan is so young"

"Not Sashimi" "It's Kirimi"

"So Kirimi-chan doesn't know that you're her real older brother Nekozawa-senpai?"

"Yes, we've talked to her, but she refuses to believe us"

"That's so sad, well no wonder Neko-chan is so upset"

"It's painful, that's why every night I offer prayers, in hopes that one day, Kirimi will come to embrace the darkness"

"I think you've got it backwards buddy"

"You should try to get accustomed to the light" "What are you trying to do to your sister?"

The butler steps forward "Come along mistress kirimi"

"It's time to go home"

Kirimi bursts out whailing "I'm not going with you! I don't wanna go home! I wanna stay with my big brother!"

"Nekozawa-senpai?"

"Don't worry about me Suoh, all I want is for my sister to be happy. Make sure she gets the love she deserves" Nekozawa runs away in clear distress.

"But wait a minute! Senpai!" Nekozawa is long gone.

"Sibling relations are a source of problems in any family" Kyoya pushes his glasses up, which you know that means he isn't entirely just talking about Nekozawa-senpai and Kirimi.

"I must admit though, that was a noble act, giving up being apart of kirimi's life so that she can be happy, even if leaving her with Tamaki is certainly not the best option" You think aloud.

"Even so, I'm kinda jealous, I grew up an only child, so I can't really relate. But I can't imagine how tough it must be to have a sibling that's so different from you that you can't even spend time together"

Tamaki places Kirimi down "Is something wrong? Tell me, big brother"

"I'm sorry Kirimi-chan, but I'm not the big brother you've been looking for, don't worry, he's still out there. Believe it or not you have a big brother that's even more handsome than I am, and I promise you he's a real prince"

"Oh no" you mutter, for a second you thought that Tamaki may have been doing the right thing but he's ended up going in the complete opposite direction.

"Once she stepped foot in this room, Kirimi-chan became a guest of the host club and it's our job to make all our guests happy! It's an absolute tragedy to see a brother and sister at odds this way. We have to do something to help them! Starting now, 'operation: change Nekozawa-senpai into the princely character of Kirimi-chan's dreams' is underway!"

"Are you serious?"

"But sir"

"You want to change Umehito from a prince of darkness to a prince of light? I don't know if that's even possible"

"Senpai, quit getting carried away by your emotions! Don't make promises you can't keep"

Tamaki smirks "Oh, ye of little faith. Have you forgotten we have an expert on our side?"

"Oh no" you already know where this is going even before you hear the ghastly shrieks of laughter and the churning of a motor as Renge arises out of the floor.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

"And as winefried rose from the well she vowed that she would never go near him again...Kirimi can we take a break?" you figured that baby-sitting kirimi would be better than witnessing whatever Renge has in store for Nekozawa-senpai, however you figured that reading her stories you had from back at home may be more age appropriate than reading her shoujo manga.

"No! I haven't heard these stories before I want to know!" She jumps up and down on the sofa next to you, shaking your arm as she does so. "Okay one more"

"yay!" Kirimi throws herself backwards to lie back on the couch, head resting on your leg. "There was once a princess called Dwynwen..."

It is about halfway through that you realise that Kirimi has fallen asleep on top of you. "I thought it was strangely quiet" Kyoya hums from the doorway, drawing your attention "I think she has been running around so much at the dragon stories she's worn out"

"I was unaware you owned so many fairytale books" He enters the room, approaching the two of you "There are very few of these ones in print, I brought them with me to make sure they don't get thrown out"

Kyoya picks one up "I see" he trails off, attempting to read the language on the cover despite the fact that you're pretty sure that he does not know it. "How is Renge's 'masterclass' going?"

"interestingly...I must admit she certainly runs a tight regime" you laugh "Sounds about right" you pull a blanket over Kirmi after she stirs in your lap. "Do you think it will work?"

"Possibly, I know that Renge certainly does not like to take no for an answer"

"And how are things with..."

He raises an eyebrow "with?" your head tilts to the side, knowing that he is playing dumb. "You know what I am referring to"

"Tamaki and I have yet to have a chance to speak" he looks off into the distance, not wanting to make eye contact with you. "You have had ample time, you are avoiding the topic"

"And what if I am?" he finally turns back to look at you "You shouldn't, you need him as much as he needs you"

"He was incredibly careless, I cannot forgive that"

"Kyoya." your voice is stern, pulling his attention. "Do you think that Tamaki messed up my apartment maliciously?"

"Well- No- Of course I don't- he wouldn't"

"He wasn't thinking, I will admit that because he never does, why was that any different to today when he decided to get the hopes up of a five year old that he will somehow change Nekozawa-senpai into something he is not?"

"It...It isn't different and it is incredibly different at the same time"

"How?"

Kyoya pauses, looking back at you with the same look you had given him seconds ago "You know how it is different" you raise an eyebrow "I do?"

"You do. and if you do not then you are less astute then I thought you were which I incredibly doubt"

"Tell me anyway?" Kirimi stirs before Kyoya can give an answer, waking up once more, rubbing her eyes as she sits up. "Oh its the glasses guy again" you laugh.

"I'll talk to Tamaki if you want me to but no promises of anything beyond it"

All of a sudden you hear a whail from the science room down the hall, everyone's heads snapping to look at the door. "Maybe we should double check that Renge isn't going too overboard"

You move Kirmi to sit on the sofa properly "Wait here for a moment Kirimi I will be right back"

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

"Dare I ask?" as you enter the science room you find Haruhi yelling tamaki who was standing next to a mannequin who appeared to be dressed like her. "It's better if you don't"

"Big brother?" Kirimi appears next to you in the doorway "This room is dark and scary" she starts to tear up. "Oh, Kirimi-chan, i asked you to wait for me in the other room"

"What's wrong little one? There, there, calm down" Tamaki runs over, picking kirmi up "You see? There's nothing to be afraid of" the two of them laugh as he spins her around.

"Senpai?" You turn around to find a dejected Nekozawa-senpai chanting to himself about being a princely big brother. "I'm not afraid of this flashlight! Self evil beam!"

Nekozawa-senpai flashes the torch in his face. "He did it!"

"Nekozawa-senpai's come a long way, he's able to shine a flashlight in his own face"

"Bravo, senpai, bravo"

"Good job, I'm impressed"

"You did it! Your little sister is going to be so thrilled"

"Look there Kirirmi-chan that gentleman is your real big brother." Tamaki points to Nekozawa.

"Kirimi" Nekozawa-senpai turns around, a horrifying look on his face due to the the underlighting. Kirimi screams at the sight, running away.

"So I guess shining the flashlight in his face" "Scared her and sent her running"

"Oh kirimi" Nekozawa-senpai bursts out crying. "I've had enough. Even if I continue your special training there's no guarantee that Kirimi will ever accept me I think she'd be better off if you acted as her brother in my stead, Suoh"

"But that's rediculous you're the big brother she's looking for. If you care about her, you'll do whatever it takes to win her over"

The twins finally pull back the curtains of the room "Hey, look Kirimi-chan hasn't made it out of the courtyard"

"There's something down there with her...oh it's just a cat" Nekozawa-Senpai gasps "Your family sure does love cats" "Even strays warm up to you guys"

"What did you say?" Nekozawa-senpai pushes the twins away to take a look "They're revered by our family, it's true, but Kirimi wouldn't participate in something like that. Something as occult as befriending a stray cat. Kirimi is afraid of animals and cats are the creatures she fears the most"

"Kirmi!" Nekozawa-senpai jumps through the window.

"Nekozawa-senpai!"

"But he's not wearing his black cloak!"

Nekozawa-senpai runs up to Kirimi, who jumps into his arms, now actually able to see him in daylight without the cloak.

"Now look at that, this is all thanks to my special training" you roll your eyes, although even you can admit that while her methods were questionable, Renge was more helpful than not this time.

"I think Nekozawa-senpai is ready to continue on his own now, one of us should probably sort out what we're going to do about this window" You look at the remains.

the rest of the host club hum in agreement "Kyoya, Tamaki? would you mind?" the two of them look at you hesitantly "S-sure" Tamaki stutters out in nervousness, whether that be at you or Kyoya it is unclear.

You smile "Great, we'll leave you to it" turning around as you go to leave you place a hand on Kyoya's shoulder "Talk to him, remember what I said, you need him" You whisper, leaving the room with the rest of the host club.

Maintaining relationships certainly was not Kyoya's strong point, that much was clear, but if Nekozawa-Senpai can overcome all that to reunite with his sister, maybe he can learn to change too, with time, and patience.

Next time on patience 'Honey's three bitter days!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja

[spicyraeman]

Wdyt Hound, Vir and Rûngrim sound like! What kind of voices do you hear in your head whenever you draw them (or imagine scenes involving them). If we ignore the in-game voices ofc.

Also, you don't gotta be super detailed with this either (unless you want to).

Rûngrim's normal speaking voice is probably the most Drow-ish part about her, its smooth and on the lower side and has an almost erudite sound to it but heavily accented since they learned common much later in life. She does gruff it up a bit when their putting on the 'big bad barbarian' bit and when they speak in orcish

Vir's is husky and androgynous with a lot of range, the type that projects well and really demands attention when they speak (kinda severe sounding is suppose?) In the beginning of the game its rougher bc he's not really taking care of himself and doesn't care for putting on a show but later in the game it lightens up and gets a bit more playful

And the best way I can describe Hounds voice is like a more mature sounding Jinx from arcane, that raspy crackly and playful sound fits her perfectly

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

juno - spencer reid x afab!reader

reader finds out how good spencer is with kids and can't keep the thoughts from pouring in

requested!

genre: fluff, smut wc: 2179 warnings: established relationship, daydreamer!reader, talk of pregnancy, p in v, unprotected sex(duh), brief breeding kink, i love yous, reader has hair?

my first time ever writing smut!!! keep your pitchforks to yourself please!!!

You've known for a long while of your boyfriend's affinity for the young souls out there. Perhaps he was one of them. Perhaps he was just an overgrown one of them. It was something spoken about early on, his love for kids. He mentioned that he's the godfather of his coworker's little boy and how he's always wanted one of his own. A boy or girl, it doesn't matter. As long as he got to raise one with the fatherly love he never quite received.

That was all fine and well to know until you actually got to see Spencer with a child. Babysitting Henry was supposed to be a way of letting JJ and Will have some fun for once. It turned out to be much more confusing. He was sweet, gentle, and spoke in a soft tone that drove you oddly insane. When he started doing card tricks, you thought your heart would explode.

That's why right now you're sitting in the car completely silent. You've never been one to shut up so it's no surprise that he knows something is off. It's not your fault that you're suddenly lost in an alternate reality in which you're in a large house with a small baby. Maybe two. It's not like you wanted to get started right away. Nonetheless, something about the idea was appealing.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks softly, eyes narrowed.

Technically, yes, you're fine. Too many thoughts but fine.

"Yeah, of course," you hum. "You were really good with Henry today."

A bright smile breaks out on his lips as he lets out a breath that's just barely a laugh. "You think?" his brows furrow, glancing over at you almost nervously.

You nod, shoulders loosening. "I do." While fiddling with your necklace, you add, possibly with too much meaning, "you'll be a really good dad."

His face turns red and he focuses on the road. Before long, the thoughts swarming in that head of his refuse to stay inside and he speaks gently, "is that what you're thinking about?"

A topic you've talked about—your tendency to daydream. It's not a thing you've kept hidden. In fact, it's your favourite pastime. However, it's a little awkward to tell your boyfriend that you're imagining him getting you pregnant.

But you were never a good liar.

"Yeah," you admit, fingers still at the pendant on your chest, eyes watching the passing scenery and streetlights.

"And?"

To that, you're not sure there's any response that doesn't seem insane.

"And what?" you ask cautiously.

After a quick glance in your direction as if he's testing the waters, he clarifies, "are you opposed?"

"To what?"

"Kids."

Oh. Well, no, not in the least. The idea of raising a family with Spencer is thrilling and you believe it's something you do want. You've always liked kids and kids have always liked you but the thought of seriously settling down has never truly crossed your mind. Until now, you suppose.

You shake your head, eyes lingering on his jawline. "No. You know that," you mutter softly.

"I do... but we've never talked about it. Just because you like children doesn't mean you necessarily want them," Spencer says like it's the most simple thing.

"True." The singular word is almost impossible to hear. You add gently, "but, I do."

He nods, turning his head to look at you in a way slightly different than all the other times. You can't quite place it, though. What you do know is that it definitely caused some major butterflies in your stomach. Then again, that happens a lot. But when his right hand moves from the steering wheel to your thigh, you're sure that look meant something. Something good, you think.

You're even more sure when, the moment you get to his apartment, he kisses you deep, lips parting to make way for his tongue. It's not rough at all. Loving, mostly. Like he's ensuring that you know you're cared for. You smile wide, unable to stop the giggle from leaving. Pulling back with an equally lovesick smile, he laughs, "what?"

Hardly a second later, you place another peck to his still grinning lips before answering with a bright, "what's going on?"

His eyebrows raise. "Nothing... I don't know what you mean," he says in easily a whole octave higher than usual. Your eyes narrow as you search his eyes.

You beg dramatically, "tell me."

He sighs then runs his fingers through his hair, unsure if he wants to bring it up. "About what you said... in the car... you meant it?"

"What I said...? About kids?"

Spencer nods. "Yes."

"I meant it, yes." It's spoken hesitantly. You're not positive where this conversation is heading.

"I just... like the thought," he shrugs, leaving you to walk towards the bedroom.

Really confused and a little intrigued, you follow, watching him start to unbutton his cardigan. "The thought?" you hum, crossing your arms in an attempt at nonchalance.

"Of you... pregnant," he mumbles like he doesn't want you to hear, letting the piece of clothing fall to the ground before picking it up to put it in his laundry bin.

He didn't need to say it like that. He could've said the thought of starting a family, of having a child. You're not a profiler but the way he decided to word the sentence makes you think something bigger has been revealed. Freudian slip or intentional, he's not telling you everything that's on his mind.

"Pregnant. Really?" You picture it and, perhaps it's because you'll be the one carrying it, but all you seem to be able to picture is chubby ankles, morning sickness, and mood swings.

Simply, Spencer nods, eyes finally meeting yours. You smile up at him sweetly as his hands come to cup your face. "There's just—I don't know... something appealing about it. About being the one to..."

Now, you get it.

"Oh. Like—oh! So, that's what...?" you babble purely out of shock.

Who knew Spencer Reid had the fantasy of impregnating you floating around in his brain?

His hands drop to your shoulders, squeezing gently. "Does that make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—just forget—"

To his surprise, you cut off the soon-to-be-ramble with your lips on his. It takes a second for him to understand what's happening but he does, mouth moving against yours eagerly, his hands sliding up to your face. While smiling, you drag your hand down his neck and to his tie, tugging it loose. Once he clues in to where you want this to go, his fingers slip under your shirt, gripping your waist firmly. The tie comes off, dropping to the floor and, soon enough, your shirt's gone, too.

He takes a few steps to the bed before lowering you onto it carefully. As if handling glass, he glides his hand down your stomach, to the button of your jeans.

"Can these come off?" he pants against your lips.

Nodding desperately, you whisper, "yeah."

With a nod back, Spencer unbuttons the jeans and pulls them down your legs. His palms slide up your thighs as he presses another kiss to your mouth. "Go lay down?" he suggests softly.

You comply immediately, moving up on the bed and laying your head on the pillows to watch him undo his shirt one button at a time. Next, his belt comes off. And then his pants. When he's left in only boxers, he positions himself above you before kissing down your neck. Your back arches and he uses the opportunity to move his fingers to the clasp of your bra.

You aren't at all unfamiliar with his skill but, every time, it continues to catch you off guard how, in a few minutes, you're at his mercy, willing to do anything he asks of you. Then again, when are you not?

He tosses the bra aside to join the rest of the discarded clothes on his bedroom floor. His attention is, of course, then drawn to your chest, one of his hands grabbing at you while the other suddenly starts small circles over your underwear.

"Spencer, I don't need that," you mutter breathily. You don't really want his hand at the moment.

His head lifts from your neck, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek. Spencer asks quietly, "are you sure?"

There isn't much you're capable of doing at the moment so you nod. He takes the answer and hooks both index fingers into the waistband of your panties. His eyes fall directly to the newly revealed area the same way they always do, adoration spilling out of him at the sight of the collecting wetness. A small smile on your face, your hands drift down to take off his boxers.

With the last barriers removed, your lips connect again and his hand moves to line himself up with you. The kiss breaks when he looks down to watch himself push into you, a whimper leaving you and a shaky breath leaving him. He quickly bottoms out and you whine.

Softly, he murmurs, "you okay?"

"Yeah, just," you laugh, "...full."

Spencer breathily chuckles with you, nodding like he's trying to get himself together. "Right."

After a deep breath, his hips start slowly, letting both of you adjust to the feeling of each other again. No matter how many times you do this, you still always need a minute to get used to him. Your breaths come out in gentle pants and occasional whimpers until he speeds up and you can't contain yourself. Desperate moans of pleasure spill from your lips as he moves.

"Doing so good—feels so good," he mumbles, eyes now screwed shut.

"Really, really good," you nod eagerly, voice soft. Your hands paw at his back in search of anything to hold on to.

The sensation is almost too much you think you might burst. Although, when he starts to whimper, that's when you really lose it. The way he sounds and the way his face scrunches up, it's intoxicating. You need more of it.

You cry with want, "harder... please."

Like always, he attempts to give you everything you need and desire. He nods, hips quickening and lewd sounds coming from your bodies. A small gasp leaves you. Your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to hit your deepest point. It's a feeling you'll never quite get used to. The moment he reaches that spot, it's never long after that it's over.

Letting out a gasp, you clench around him, causing his movements to falter and become more frantic. A breath quickly leaves him before he's asking, "inside, right?"

You whine, "mhm," dangerously close to slipping off that ledge. Your mind brings you to images of you pregnant, his baby growing inside you. This time not so scary. You imagine this moment in a very different time, when his release will signal a new start and not just an end.

His mouth finds your shoulder, pressing careful kisses to the skin. The hand not holding his body weight finds the sensitive point between your legs, eliciting a loud moan from you. Desperately, you cling to him, arms wrapping around him for any more contact. That familiar feeling builds deep in your gut and you whine, finding your eyes rolling back.

It happens quickly, the finish line getting closer and closer until it's gone and you're in another universe of pleasure. Your hips try to escape but Spencer doesn't let that happen. His hand moves from your center to your hip, holding you down with little force. The fog clears just in time to watch him reach that very same ecstasy. Lips parted against your shoulder, he whimpers, movements becoming even sloppier until they slow.

The odd warmth spills from you. His breaths come heavy as he relaxes against you and pats your head—an interesting choice of affection after sex but somehow suitable. When he pulls out, you sigh shakily, watching him go to the bathroom. Before long, he's back with a damp cloth. He opens your legs again, running the fabric over you with a tenderness you couldn't possibly describe.

He joins you after discarding the cloth. An elbow holds him up so he can look at you, looking so perfect, lips swelled and hair splayed delicately over the plush pillows. He's staring. Mind wandering, he pictures a world in which you're rounder and perhaps with a ring on your finger. You're deep into pregnancy, probably grumpy with him but he doesn't care because you're his. Only his, forever.

Again, not today, not now, but someday. When the funds are appropriate and you know it's the right choice. Not that he ever doubted.

Just above a whisper, he says, "so... that doesn't mean I want—"

"I know. I'm glad," you grin, still quite dazed but completely content.

A kiss is pressed to your forehead and he sighs. "I love you."

"I love you," you mutter back.

As previously stated, Spencer Reid is a man that's good with kids. You presume he's even better with you, though.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 Positive • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- There are three things you know for certain right now:

You're pregnant.

The father currently has his hands all over some blonde at The Wreck.

According to Topper, you're Rafe Cameron's favorite topic during locker room talk.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, unplanned pregnancy, cursing, angst no happy ending, readers a pouge, fuckboy!rafe (?) toppers a dickhead frl, mention of abortions (once)

main masterlist(s) | taglist | wc: 2.2k

"Fuck." You stare at the positive pregnancy test between your trembling fingers.

"Fuck," you curse again, realizing you're alone in your apartment with this life-changing news.

Of course this would happen.

After months of sneaking around, of heated encounters and promises to keep things casual, one reckless night was all it took. One moment where passion overrode common sense, where neither of you cared about consequences.

A hushed "I want to feel you, all of you," slipped from Rafe's lips as he paused, the condom still on, but his desire for you raw, uninhibited, consuming him. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours, silently asking if you trusted him enough to let go..

How naive you'd been, thinking you could trust Rafe Cameron with something so intimate. The golden boy of the OBX, known for his volatile temper and reckless abandon. The type of man who treats both relationships and speed limits as mere suggestions.

And you'd fallen for those dark cerulean eyes and heated whispers like every other girl before you. Only difference was, you were now staring at the consequences of that trust, watching it turn into two pink lines that would complicate everything.

Your secret hookup.

The trust fund bad boy of the OBX. The same Rafe Cameron who's probably at some country club event right now, charming his way through a crowd of socialites, completely unaware that he's about to become a father.

You can already hear the whispers at the yacht club – the Camerons' golden boy and his latest pouge conquest.

As if sleeping with Rafe Cameron wasn't scandalous enough, now you're carrying the next heir to his family's empire.

"Have you seen Rafe?" you shout at Topper over the pulsing bass of The Wreck's speakers. Your hand instinctively rests on your still-flat stomach – a new nervous habit you've developed since seeing those two pink lines.

Topper takes a swig of his whiskey, looking entirely too amused--and drunk, "Lost track of your boyfriend already?"

"He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah." He smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Just his favorite little Pogue to fuck behind closed doors, right? You know, he tells us everything in the locker room." He leaned closer, whiskey breath hot against your ear. "About how eager you are, how you beg for it. Though I gotta say, for someone from the cut, you've got quite the reputation among the trust fund crowd now."

Your cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. Of course Rafe would brag about all the girls he's had to his Kook friends. Of course you were just another story for their country club gossip.

"Go fuck yourself, Topper. Where's Rafe?"

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. We all know you've got a thing for rich boys. Though usually we don't keep Pogues around this long – Rafe must really like something about you." His eyes raked over you suggestively. "Or some things."

The way he says it makes your skin crawl – it's pure Rafe Cameron coming out of Topper's mouth. That same calculated charm, that practiced way of making someone feel simultaneously special and worthless.

You wonder how many hours he spent watching Rafe work his magic at bars, memorizing the exact tone needed to make "sweetheart" sound like an insult. Rich boys and their fucked-up everything.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. "Hey, I'm just messing with you. No need to get your discount panties in a twist." He gestures toward the bar with his glass.

"Last I saw him, he was chatting up some blonde by the bar." Topper continued, "Though, something tells me you've got more on your mind than just another quick fuck in the coat closet."

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" you snap at him, hands clenching into fists.

Your head whips around, scanning the crowded bar area, but there's no sign of Rafe's familiar frame among the sea of drunk socialites.

"He's not there," you mutter, frustration building in your chest.

"What's wrong? Don't have your Kook King on a leash?" Topper calls after you as you push past him toward the exit. "Better hurry – you know how fast Rafe moves on to the next thing!"

You storm out of The Wreck, the humid night air doing nothing to cool your rising anger.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Here you are, pregnant with his kid, and Rafe Cameron can't even stay in one place long enough to hear the news.

Slumping into your car, you grab your phone, fingers trembling as you pull up his contact. Three rings, voicemail. Again. Four rings, voicemail. Your frustration builds with each failed attempt.

hey, we need to talk

rafe, answer your fucking phone

where are you?

this is important

You watch the messages turn from "delivered" to "read" with no response. Of course he's seeing them. He's probably looking at his phone right now, some blonde draped over his shoulder, both of them laughing at your desperate attempts to reach him.

seriously rafe, this isn't about us. something happened

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You could just text it. Three simple words: I'm pregnant, asshole. But somehow, dropping that bomb over text feels wrong, even for whatever this is between you.

After the tenth unanswered call, you throw your phone onto the passenger seat, fighting back angry tears.

You should have known better than to expect anything different from Rafe Cameron, who treats Pogues like they're as disposable as his designer clothes.

To him, girls from the Cut are just temporary entertainment – something to play with until a more suitable option from his tax bracket comes along.

Your phone buzzes. For a moment, your heart leaps – but it's just another notification that he's read your messages.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you mutter, starting your car with more force than necessary. The engine roars to life, matching your mood.

You consider driving to his place – you know he'll end up there eventually, probably with tonight's blonde in tow. But the thought of waiting outside his house like some desperate ex makes bile rise in your throat.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it's a text:

busy rn. talk tomorrow?

A laugh escapes you, bitter and hollow. Busy. Of course he's busy. He's always busy when it doesn't involve getting into your pants. Your fingers fly across the keyboard before you can stop yourself:

hope she's worth it. btw, might want to start setting aside some trust fund money for child support

You hit send before you can think better of it, immediately regretting it. Your phone explodes with incoming calls – now he wants to talk. But you're already pulling out of the parking lot, vision blurry with unshed tears.

Let him panic for a while. Let him feel a fraction of the anxiety that's been eating at you since you saw those two pink lines.

Besides, if he can't be bothered to give you five minutes when you need him, he can wait until tomorrow to hear how he managed to knock up his favorite Pogue.

You wake up to the sound of coffee brewing – which is impossible because you live alone and definitely didn't set the timer last night. Stumbling out of your bedroom, you freeze in the doorway.

There's Rafe Cameron, looking unfairly good for someone who should be hungover, sitting on your beaten-up futon. His expensive clothes are a stark contrast to your shabby apartment furniture, but somehow he looks like he belongs there.

Between his fingers, he's holding the pregnancy test you'd forgotten to hide in your emotional spiral last night.

"Breaking and entering now?" Your voice comes out shakier than you'd like. "That's low, even for you."

He doesn't look up from the test, but you catch the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "It's not breaking in when I have a key." He finally meets your eyes, holding up the small silver key you'd given him three months ago after that night he'd brought you soup when you were sick. "You know, the one you said was 'just for emergencies'?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. This thing between you had stopped being just hookups somewhere between the late-night conversations and the drawer of his clothes in your dresser. Between him knowing how you take your coffee and you knowing which side of the bed he prefers.

"That's not—" you start, but he cuts you off.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to text it and disappear like you did last night?"

"Oh, like how you disappeared with that blonde? Or should we talk about how you disappear every time after you're done with me, just to go brag to Topper about your latest fuck?"

His face darkens. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Rafe. Your locker room talk is apparently quite entertaining. 'Eager.' 'Begging for it.' Ring any bells?" You wrap your arms around yourself, hating how your voice shakes. "Tell me, do all your Kook friends know how I sound in bed, or is that a special story just for Topper?"

"That's not—"

"Not what? Not what you meant? Not what happened? Because Topper seemed pretty clear about exactly what kind of reputation I have among your trust fund crowd now."

"You really think that's what this is?" He gestures between you. "That I could think of you as just another hookup?"

"Isn't it? I mean, god forbid the Kook King actually care about the Pogue he's fucking—"

"Jesus Christ," he runs his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration. "If this was just about sex, would I have a key? Would I know your coffee order or—"

"You can't use that as some kind of proof you care! Having a key doesn't mean shit when you're out there treating me like your dirty little secret!"

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with months of unspoken hurt. When Rafe finally speaks, his voice is low, controlled: "Is it mine?"

The question hits you like a slap. "Are you seriously—"

"Just answer the question." His eyes are intense, searching yours. "Is it mine?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. He already knows the answer – can read it in the way you can't quite meet his eyes, in how your hand unconsciously drifts to your stomach.

That night without protection wasn't your first together, but it was the first time he'd looked at you like you were something more than just a good time.

Like maybe you could be everything. Now that look is back, mixed with something like fear as the reality of what you're not saying sinks in.

"Those tests—" he starts pacing, running his hands through his hair. "They're not always accurate, you know? Maybe you should take another one. Or three. Fuck, how do you even know for sure?" His voice takes on a desperate edge. "There are… options. I know a clinic in Chapel Hill. Discrete. I could make some calls—"

"You know what?" Your voice comes out quiet, defeated. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe this is exactly what I need to finally stop pretending this—" you gesture between you, "—could ever be anything real."

"I'm just saying we need to think about this logically—"

"No," you snap, your voice rising until it bounces off the walls of your tiny apartment. "You're trying to make this disappear, just like everything else that threatens your perfect Figure Eight lifestyle!"

You watch something crack in his expression, that carefully maintained Kook King facade finally showing a glimpse of real emotion. His hand reaches for you, then drops. "Don't—"

"I think you should go." You turn away, unable to look at him anymore. "Use that key one last time to lock up behind you."

You don't need to see his face to know he's struggling with what to say. The perfect Rafe Cameron, for once at a loss for words. It would be funny if it wasn't breaking your heart.

You don't turn around to watch him leave, but you hear the way he hesitates at the door. The silence stretches, filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say. Finally, the door clicks shut, and you're alone again.

Your hand drifts to your stomach, and you let out a bitter laugh. You can do this alone.

You'll move out of the OBX, maybe up to Wilmington where no one knows your name or that you're carrying a Cameron heir. You'll work extra shifts at the restaurant, save every penny.

Your kid won't need trust fund money or a father who treats relationships like they're disposable. Your child won't grow up feeling like some dirty secret.

Somewhere across town, Topper's probably already hearing about how the Pogue girl tried to trap Rafe Cameron with a baby. You can almost hear the yacht club whispers starting. But let them talk – you've survived worse than country club gossip.

(What no one would ever know: how your hands shook as you slid his key under his door later that night, or how he sat in his car outside your apartment for hours, staring at a small velvet box he'd been carrying in his pocket since before you ever said the word "pregnant."

Some love stories aren't meant to have happy endings, and some babies are meant to have just one parent who actually wants them.)

a/n -- thanks for reading, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore @madzig @thatdesigirl17 @drewstarkeysrightarm @seqhyvnz @romantasyreader2024 @luizaelias @rafe-cameronswife @emmavzlsblog @aileenunfiltered @swe3theart-succubus @511rkive @morrrrphin @xcinnamonmalfoyx @obxrafeandjj @rafegf-real @theeternaloptimistt

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them. 

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for. 

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk. 

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out. 

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new. 

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face. 

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again. 

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily. 

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you. 

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen. 

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago. 

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar. 

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected. 

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand. 

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other. 

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him. 

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway. 

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you. 

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.” 

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other. 

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended. 

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much. 

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them. 

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping. 

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool. 

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did. 

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn’t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him. 

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you. 

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy. 

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear. 

You took the paper from Javi. 

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work. 

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half. 

And he kept his promise. 

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late. 

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside. 

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi. 

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns. 

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted. 

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours. 

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand. 

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.” 

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one. 

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind. 

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate. 

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses. 

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him. 

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV. 

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work. 

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks. 

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi. 

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother. 

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too. 

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you. 

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking. 

“You’re married?” 

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother. 

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk. 

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it. 

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her. 

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner. 

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him. 

Because it was true. 

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family. 

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen. 

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible. 

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music. 

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom. 

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed. 

“Told you so,” you mouthed back. 

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home. 

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you. 

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror. 

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him. 

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you. 

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him. 

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. 

Then a timer went off. 

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him. 

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him. 

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly. 

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed. 

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart. 

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax. 

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment. 

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room. 

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal. 

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it? 

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real. 

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over. 

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth. 

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him. 

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months. 

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed. 

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time. 

For the first time you…studied him. 

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared. 

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful. 

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home. 

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy. 

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin. 

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you. 

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room. 

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open. 

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets. 

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice. 

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you. 

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly. 

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot. 

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets. 

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town. 

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor. 

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked. 

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there. 

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look  and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’. 

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped. 

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you. 

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily. 

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes. 

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one. 

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was. 

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory. 

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too. 

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped. 

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you. 

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next. 

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door. 

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I’m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all. 

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other. 

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him. 

Then he kissed you. 

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more. 

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one. 

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady. 

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others. 

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying. 

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more. 

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus. 

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown. 

He needed you more than he wanted to admit. 

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you. 

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss. 

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move. 

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. 

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third. 

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist. 

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady. 

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts. 

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck. 

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response. 

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle. 

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet. 

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi. 

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see. 

Then he tasted the rest of you. 

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him. 

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you. 

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.” 

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you. 

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did. 

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him. 

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did. 

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer. 

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you. 

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck. 

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…”  A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you. 

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore. 

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times. 

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving. 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

And he did. 

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum. 

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely. 

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter. 

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa. 

But that was something you both had to get used to. 

Interruptions. 

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other. 

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency. 

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you. 

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures. 

[sanguineterrain]

how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home

really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶

jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓

request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.

You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.

"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.

Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"

"Indeed I am."

"Need a ride?"

You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.

"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."

"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."

You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.

"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."

You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.

Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.

"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."

"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."

You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."

You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.

It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.

Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.

You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.

You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.

****

The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.

Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.

"Jay, h—"

"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"

You tense, guilt knocking into you.

"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."

Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.

"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"

"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"

"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."

His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.

"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"

He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"

Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.

"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."

"Can't lose you," he chokes out.

"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."

He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.

"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."

"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."

You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"

"In a minute."

Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.

"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.

He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.

"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."

[hairmetal666]

"Is this always how they act?" Jonathan asks. He has to lean close and yell a little for Robin to hear him over the noise of the house party.

"Yup," she says.

She, Jonathan, and Argyle continue to stare at Eddie, sitting in an easy chair, Steve perched happily on his lap. Eddie has a whole bowl of bbq Lay's, and Steve will lean back for a chip, which Eddie feeds him with a smile.

"And they're definitely not dating?" Argyle asks when Steve leans back to whisper in Eddie's ear, mouth pressed close. It's deeply gratifying that they just got in from California and already they see it.

"Steve says no."

"You think he's lying?" Jonathan asks.

"I think he doesn't realize he likes Eddie yet."

Eddie tugs at Steve's hair, and Steve turns back, gives him a smile that's so intimate Robin can't stare directly at it. Instead, she turns to her friends, but Argyle is still watching Eddie and Steve. He's drumming his fingers against his chin, expression what Robin could only call mischievous.

"What are you planning?" Jonathan asks.

"Just helping some bros find true love."

Jonathan looks mildly concerned but before he can say anything, Nancy makes her appearance. And they're something, becoming something, and she cares about Eddie and Steve getting their shit together, but Nancy is smiling and she's so, so pretty. It's easy to get lost in the blue of her eyes and the sweep of her hair and forget about everything else.

---

A few hours later and they're all sitting around a coffee table in the basement, just the six of them. It's sort of funny, she thinks, how it always ends up being the six of them.

They're crossfaded already, but that hasn't stopped Eddie and Argyle from lighting another joint. Her thoughts have gone light and floaty, all that's holding her to earth the press Steve's leg and Nancy's hand against hers.

Argyle is sort of monologuing and she doesn't think any of them are paying much mind, but then he stops mid-sentence, grips Jonathan's shoulder tight enough that his knuckles go white. "Dudes. What if we played Truth or Dare?"

Nancy snorts. "Not on your life."

"I don't think I can move?" She says. She leans into Steve, sighing with contentment.

"I, for one, would love to see Buckley complete a dare," Eddie says.

She sticks her tongue out at him. "I've done plenty. Band kid, remember?"

"Ugh, curse the horny trumpeters." Eddie slumps on the coffee table in defeat.

"I'll have you know, they were very wholesome games."

Steve squints at her. "Wasn't there an orgy in someone's pool?"

She sniffs, looks away instead of answering, which makes everyone laugh.

"Speaking of sex," Argyle says. "No one catch your eye tonight, Harrington?"

"Wasn't really looking."

"That's new," Jonathan says.

Steve laughs. "I'm tired of hooking up."

He's told her that too, countless times. She thinks the real reason he hasn't dated in months is sitting right next to him, drumming his fingers on the coffee table.

"Maybe you've just lost your touch," Argyle says.

"I have not!" Steve clutches a hand over his heart. "If I wanted to, I could pull any girl upstairs."

"C'mon, my dude, no way you're that good."

"I was!" He looks to Robin, Nancy, Jonathan. "I was, back me up!"

"I don't know, Scoops wasn't your best work," she says.

"No, no, we said Scoops doesn't count! It was the hat. The outfit! I did fine after!"

"I happened to think the sailor costume was very cute," Eddie says.

"Thank you," Steve preens. He shifts away from her to lean into Eddie, who grins.

"I don't think we can trust Eddie's judgement here," Nancy says.

Steve points at her. "Yes, and I remember you being totally uninterested."

She squeaks in indignation, Robin smothering her own giggles behind her hand. "It was--it was hormones!"

"Yeah, very uninterested in me." Jonathan chimes in. There's a little second where no one reacts--the fact that Nancy was technically still with Steve when that happened ringing unspoken between them--before Nancy and Steve start to giggle.

"I've hooked up with everyone I've ever tried to," Argyle chimes in, nonchalant.

"No way," the whole group says.

"I've got the touch."

"C'mon, that literally can't be true just by like...stats," Steve says.

"Don't know what to tell you, my dude." Argyle's smile is smug. "I'm really good."

"You're just jealous," she tells him. She nudges his shoulder so he knows she's joking.

"No! Jealousy has nothing to do with it."

They erupt at that, calling out the obvious lie.

"I'm not upset!" Steve shouts over them. "I'm just saying, it didn't happen. Sorry, Argyle. You have bizzaro charm, but there's no way it has a 100% success rate."

"Sounds like jealousy to me, Stevie." Eddie cocks his head with a smirk.

"Harrington, you're so cute when you're competitive," Argyle says. "Anyway, it worked on--"

"Don't say Jonathan," Nancy, Steve, and Robin all say.

"Hey! Why not me?'

"Well, it's just--" Nancy waves her hand in the air. "You're. I mean. It's not hard."

Jonathan groans, hides his face in his hands as they laugh.

"I'll prove it to you," Argyle says to Steve. "100% success rate."

"What?"

"I'm going to seduce you."

"Oh, shit," she says.

She knows what's going to happen even before Steve puts his hands on his hips, awkwardly cause they're sitting, cocks an eyebrow, and says, "Okay."

Eddie grumbles something she can't make out, but Steve shakes his head, laughs. "Nah, it's just for fun, right?"

"Until it works." Argyle tosses his hair.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Gimme your best shot."

They rearrange around the table, Eddie and Argyle swapping places.

Everyone is quiet for a second, Steve reaches for his drink. "You got great hands, Harrington," Argyle says.

"I--oh, what?" Steve splutters. He goes a little pink, and Robin thinks it's the first time she's seen him this flustered by a compliment.

"Yeah." Argyle takes his hand, traces along his palm and knuckles. "Big. Strong. Like you could really take care of someone."

Eddie kicks the table, sending it rocking, scattering empty cups and chip bags. Steve is crimson, totally oblivious to Eddie's flailing.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He doesn't pull his hand away. Robin, everyone, is riveted.

"No one's ever told you that?"

"No. No one."

"That's too bad. It's probably all about your hair and your eyes and your body."

Steve smiles and it's one she recognizes, flirty and a little wicked. "You noticed my body?"

Argyle laughs. "Oh, c'mon, you know everyone notices that."

"Would you believe it if I told you I don't get enough compliments?"

"Not on your life."

Steve leans into him, giggles. "Well, worth a shot, right?"

"Always. You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you?"

"Ass, right?"

"It was how much you love your friends but you hide it behind a facade of disapproval. Made me think maybe you weren't used to the love you want to give being reciprocated."

They're all locked in on Argyle and Steve, but she notices Eddie flinch, move like he's about to stand, Nancy reaching out to stop him. She thinks, then, for the first time, that maybe this is mean to him. He doesn't know it's not real.

"Oh," Steve says. His voice breaks, a little, and her heart breaks for him. "I--oh."

"Your ass was the second thing I noticed," Argyle quips and the tension around the table breaks, Steve giggling.

With smooth confidence she never would have expected him to possess, Argyle cards his fingers through Steve's hair. "Just had to touch it for myself." His voice is soft.

"That all you want to touch?"

Argyle grins. "Not even a little bit."

She watches, stunned, as Steve leans in, face almost touching Argyle's. Eddie makes a noise, a pained cough, and Steve leaps to his feet.

"I can't kiss you!" He half-yells, stumbling.

"And why not?" Argyle asks. He's got a wild smile on his face.

"I'm in love with Eddie!" Steve's eyes are wide, panicked.

"I'm sorry," Steve says to him. "Eddie, I--"

But before he can get the words out, Eddie's climbing over the coffee table, sending drinks and snacks flying, the calls for him to get down ignored as he trips into Steve's arms.

"You love me?" Eddie asks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I--got in my head about it and I--I hoped it didn't seem like I was leading you on because my words kept getting stuck, and--"

"Sweetheart." Eddie stops him. "I--" He breaks off, notices that the rest of them are raptly listening to the confession. "Do you want to go somewhere we can talk?"

They disappear upstairs, and she turns to Argyle in awe. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"What can I say, I'm a miracle worker. Are there more Doritos?"

---

Early in the morning, they're piled in Nancy's station wagon, Jonathan driving them home. She and Nancy are in the middle seat, Steve and Eddie in the back. Steve's curled against him, face pressed to his neck, hidden by a cloud of hair. She wants to ask what happened, how their conversation went, if they're official and how long Steve's known he's in love, but Nancy moves closer, head dropping to Robin's shoulder. Their fingers entwine and Robin closes her eyes, smiles.

"Tomorrow?" Nancy asks.

She nods. "Tomorrow."

[lostingrayrain]

hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.

[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[mssalo]

taste

Pairing: Neighbor!Older!Joel x Reader

Summary: After moving in next door, you've slowly chipped away at Joel's gruff exterior, turning his grumbling into smiles. One night, as you show up at his door with your usual charm, the playful teasing between you two shifts into something much more intense. When Joel finally gives in to his burning desire, he can't help but get lost in your sweetness, leading to a night filled with heated passion and uncontrollable cravings.

this is my first post, `m scared

Warnings: 18+. Explicit content. Unprotected sex. Age gap. Oral sex (female receiving). Intense dirty talk. Obsessive behavior. Protective dominance. Reader has she/her pronouns and a vagina(lol), Detailed descriptions of physical intimacy. MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact).

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time you reached Joel’s porch, the sky a tapestry of deep oranges and purples.

It had been a while since you moved in next door, and over time, you’d chipped away at the gruff exterior of the man who now occupied far too many of your thoughts.

He wasn’t one for casual conversation or easy smiles—except, it seemed, when you were around.

You knocked lightly, and the door swung open almost immediately. Joel stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, his usual scowl softening just a little when he saw you.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he greeted, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that always sent a shiver down your spine.

“Hey,” you replied, stepping inside with a smile that you knew got under his skin. “Miss me?”

Joel closed the door behind you, shaking his head, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“You never give me much of a chance to miss you. You’re always showin’ up.”

You flopped onto his couch, making yourself comfortable as you flashed him a playful grin.

“You’re lucky I do. Imagine how quiet your life would be without me.”

“Quiet, maybe,” he muttered, his voice low and rumbling as he leaned against the wall, his dark eyes watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip. “But peaceful too.”

You rolled your eyes, unfazed by his teasing. “Yeah, right. You’d miss me if I stopped coming around, and you know it.”

A low, almost inaudible laugh escaped him, the sound deep and throaty, though his gaze lingered on you with a kind of burning curiosity.

“So, what brings you here tonight? Bored?” he asked, his voice carrying a rough edge, casual but with a hint of sharpness.

You shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see my favorite grumpy neighbor.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something darker in his gaze.

“That so?”

You grinned, leaning back on the couch and stretching out a little.

“Yeah. Besides, I think you secretly love having me around. Admit it.”

He shook his head, a soft grunt escaping him.

“You’re trouble, that’s what you are.”

You laughed, watching him from beneath your lashes. “Trouble, huh? I think you like trouble more than you’re letting on.”

His jaw tightened, the raw, darkened intensity of his voice rising.

“You’re too young to be throwin’ yourself into trouble like this,” he said, his voice rough and strained.

You tilted your head, smiling up at him, your voice dropping a little lower.

“Maybe I’m not the kind of trouble you think I am. Maybe I’m exactly what you need.”

Joel’s eyes darkened further, his posture stiffening as he shook his head again.

“Damn it, darlin’, you don’t know what you’re askin’ for.”

You leaned forward, catching his gaze and holding it. “Why don’t you tell me?”

He stared at you, his eyes tracing over your face and down the curve of your body.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, rough whisper, each word laden with unspoken desire.

“You’re beautiful, you know that? Always have been.”

Your heart stuttered at the unexpected compliment, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you tilted your head, offering him a playful smile.

“You’ve never told me that before.”

“Because I shouldn’t be sayin’ it,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he stepped closer, looming over you.

“But damn if I haven’t been thinkin’ it since the day you moved in.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. “Joel…”

“I’ve been dreamin’ about this,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as his fingers brushed against your cheek, trailing down your neck.

“Thinkin’ about how good it’d be to touch you like this.”

Your breath hitched, his touch sending waves of heat through you. “You have?”

“Every damn night,” he growled, his voice deep and throaty with desire.

“Every time I see you, all I can think about is how bad I want you. In every way.”

The raw hunger in his voice made your stomach flip, but you tried to stay composed. “So what’s been stopping you?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his hand dropping to your thigh, squeezing lightly. His voice, though rough and strained, was filled with raw longing.

“You’re too damn young, too damn good for me. I shouldn’t want you like this.”

You arched an eyebrow, your voice soft, teasing. “But you do.”

He groaned, the sound deep and resonant as his fingers tightened on your leg.

“Yeah, I do. More than I can stand, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your voice steady even though your body was practically humming with anticipation. “Then what are you waiting for?”

For a heartbeat, Joel stayed still, his eyes searching yours as if looking for a reason to hold back.

But when he found none, a low, guttural growl rumbled from deep within his chest. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was hard, rough, filled with the intensity of every moment he’d spent holding back.

His hands roamed over your body, fingers slipping under your shirt, grazing your skin with rough, calloused palms.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, the kiss deepening with every passing second.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his voice thick with desire as he looked down at you.

“Goddamn, you’re so fuckin' beautiful,” he muttered.

“Hot as hell, too. Been dreamin’ about you like this… and it’s even better than I imagined.”

Heat flushed through you at his words, your body aching for more as he hovered over you, his hands still exploring.

“Yeah? What else have you been dreaming about?”

Joel’s voice dropped to a rasp, his hand sliding up your thigh, gripping just above your knee.

“You. Spread out under me, lookin’ at me like you are right now. Spread open—showing me that sweet fucking pussy. Beggin’ for me to touch you.”

Your heart pounded as his words sank in, the sheer intensity of his desire making your head spin.

You arched into him, your voice breathy as you teased, “Who says I’m gonna beg?”

He smirked, his fingers trailing higher, teasing the edge of your shorts.

“We will see, darlin’. But for now I’m gonna give you everything you’ve been wantin’.”

With one smooth motion, Joel tugged your shorts down, his hand immediately finding your pulsing heat, under your baby blue panties, fingers slightly teasing you as he watched your reaction with dark, hungry eyes.

You gasped, your back arching as his fingers worked you slowly, deliberately, purposely.

“Jesus, Joel,” you moaned, your hands clutching at his arms as he continued to tease you, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck.

“You’re—fuck—so good.”

He groaned against your skin, the sound low and possessive, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered,

“I’ve been dreamin’ of hearin’ you say my name like that. You’ve got no idea what you do to me, darlin’. You’re perfect. Fuck.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through your body, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as his fingers moved with skill around your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

When his lips found yours again, you were lost, drowning in the sensation of him, the feel of his hands, his mouth, and the deep, gravelly sound of his voice in your ear as he murmured,

“You’re so damn beautiful. Can’t believe I waited this long. So stupid.”

You whimpered, your body trembling beneath him as he pushed you closer and closer, his fingers working you in perfect rhythm until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel, I—”

He growled softly, his hand tightening on your thigh as he kissed you hard, but right before you reached that sweet high, his fingers stopped.

You gasped, the sudden absence of his touch leaving you in a daze, your body aching with the need for more.

“Need to taste you, baby. Been wantin' it so bad.”

Joel’s lips trailed a heated line from your mouth down to your neck, each kiss a tantalizing brush of warmth against your skin.

His touch was deliberate, his breath hot and uneven as he moved lower, his eyes dark with desire.

His hands gently pushed your thighs apart, his touch sending shivers through you as he settled between your legs.

His breath hitched slightly, a deep, hungry growl escaping him as he looked up at you, his eyes full of a possessive, smoldering heat.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he rasped, his voice low and thick with need, as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to the inside of your thigh.

The feeling of his lips so close to where you needed him most made your breath catch, anticipation and excitement building in the pit of your stomach.

With a deliberate slowness, Joel’s lips found their way to your most intimate place.

His breath against you was warm, each exhale a tantalizing caress that made you shiver with anticipation.

He paused for a moment, his face mere inches from your core, taking in your scent—the musky, sweet aroma that was uniquely you.

Joel inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he savored the intoxicating smell of you.

The scent was heady, rich with the essence of desire, and it made his pulse quicken and his entire body shudder with a primal hunger.

He let out a low, shuddering breath, the sound escaping him in a groan of deep satisfaction.

The scent, so personal and intimate, filled his senses, amplifying his desire as he felt every inch of his control slipping away.

His breath against you was hot and uneven, his entire body trembling slightly as he tried to hold back the feral need surging through him.

Joel’s eyes were dark with a mixture of awe and lust as he looked up at you, the sight of your flushed skin and the way you responded to his touch only heightening his desire. He could feel the raw, primal urge to taste you, to fully indulge in the intoxicating aroma that was driving him wild.

Unable to resist any longer, he pressed his lips to you, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweet, heady flavor that had been teasing him.

The taste was as intoxicating as the scent, and it drove him to growl deeply, his voice resonating with a rough, satisfied tone as he continued to explore you.

“oh fuck,” he muttered, his voice a low, guttural rasp, “you taste so fuckin` perfect, I can’t get enough.”

His tongue danced over your sweet clit with relentless hunger, sucking and licking. As he savored every part of you, he couldn’t help but rut against the couch in desperate frustration.

The intensity of his arousal was almost unbearable, and he found himself grinding against the cushion, the friction only adding to his mounting desire.

Joel’s grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging in as he continued to taste you even deeper with greedy fervor.

“fuck, you’re drivin me insane with this sweet pussy”

he growled into you, his voice thick with a mix of desperation and obsession.

“I can’t get over how goddamn perfect you are. `been wanting this for so long, and now that I have you… I can’t stop.” he says, slurping loudly, messy.

Your body responded instinctively to his touch, every flick of his tongue, suck between his plump lips and every rough breath only heightening your own pleasure.

The sound of his low, desperate growls, the way his body moved against the couch, all combined to create an atmosphere charged with raw, unrestrained passion.

Joel’s movements became more frantic, his tongue working you with an almost frantic intensity.

“you have no idea what you’re doin` to me,”he rasped, his voice hoarse with need.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

His admission only fueled your desire, your body trembling with each touch and taste as you responded to him with equal fervor.

And as Joel continued to lose himself in the sensation, rutting against the couch with an almost animalistic need, it was clear that nothing would stop him from savoring every moment of this intoxicating connection.

Joel's tongue moved relentlessly against you, each stroke deliberate and filled with a raw, insatiable hunger.

His deep, guttural growls reverberated through his chest, the sound mingling with the muffled cries that escaped your lips. His face was buried between your legs, and he showed no sign of slowing, his need to taste every inch of you driving him to a fever pitch.

"y` taste so good," he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he lapped at you with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"I can’t get enough of you. so sweet, so perfect, I just want to make you cum all over my tongue, baby."

The heat of his breath, the way his tongue worked you with an almost frenzied intensity, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Every flick of his tongue, every rough, needy groan, drove you wild. Your hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer, your back arching as you tried to chase the growing pressure that built in your core.

"Joel, oh god," you whimpered, your voice breathless and desperate.

"I’m so close. Don’t stop, please—"

His growl was a low, primal sound, vibrating through your entire body.

“that’s it, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice muffled but still filled with that familiar rough edge.

“let me hear you. I wanna feel you come apart for me. I want you to lose yourself, to give it all to me.”

With every word, every sound, Joel drove you closer to the edge. His tongue flicked and circled your clit with a masterful touch, pushing you right to the brink. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with the pleasure he was giving you.

The heat between your legs was overwhelming, a wave of sensation that crashed over you in a relentless tide.

“Joel, I—” you began, but the words were lost in a broken cry as he pushed you over the edge. 

Your orgasm hit with a force that took you by surprise, your body convulsing as the pleasure surged through you.

You gasped, your breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps as Joel’s tongue continued to work you through the climax, savoring every shuddering response you gave him.

“that’s it, darlin’, come for me,” Joel urged, his voice rough and strained as he lapped at you with feverish intensity.

“feel it, let it all out. I want you to come all over my face.”

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his tongue, drove you to a second, even more intense peak.

You cried out, your hands gripping his hair tightly as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your body trembled, your thighs quaking as he kept his relentless rhythm, his own breathing heavy and ragged as he tasted every drop of your release.

When you finally came down from the high, your body still shivering with aftershocks, Joel’s touch softened, his movements more tender now as he kissed and licked you gently, savoring the last remnants of your orgasm.

His eyes were dark with a mixture of satisfaction and possessiveness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“you were amazing,” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with admiration as he looked up at you.

“so perfect, darlin’. I could taste you all night.”

Your breathless, sated smile met his gaze, and you reached down to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing softly over his skin.

“you know how to make a girl feel special,” you whispered, your voice still tinged with the lingering effects of your climax.

Joel’s breath was ragged, his gaze locked onto yours with a possessive intensity that made your heart race.

He pulled back slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath. But the desire in his eyes never wavered; if anything, it deepened. 

“you’re so fuckin` hot,” he growled, his voice a low, rough rasp.

“- every inch of you. I need to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around me.”

You could barely respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax.

But the need in Joel’s eyes drove you to beg.

“please, Joel,” you whispered, your voice filled with raw need. “- want you so bad. I need you to fill me up. please, give me your cum.”

His gaze darkened further, a shudder of anticipation running through him.

He reached down, positioning his cock at your entrance once more.

“fuck, you’re so eager,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.

“- you want me inside you, huh? want me to claim you, hm?”

“yes,” you moaned, arching into him, your body aching for his touch. “I want you to fill me, to make me yours. don’t hold back.”

Joel’s eyes were burning with an intense, almost feral hunger as he began to push into you, his cock stretching you deliciously. “you’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with need.

“every inch of you belongs to me.”

You gasped as he thrust deeper, the sensation of him filling you completely sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Joel, you feel so amazing,” you moaned, your voice trembling with desire.

“I’m so close. I want you to make me come again. I need your cum inside me.”

His pace quickened, each thrust deliberate and powerful.

“you want it that bad, huh?” he growled, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. “you want me to fill you up, to mark you as mine?”

“yes, Joel, yes,” you cried, your voice desperate.

“I need you to come inside me. make me yours. I want to feel you. I want to feel your cum.”

Joel’s movements became more urgent, animalistic, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

“you’re so perfect,” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with possessive pride.

“so fucking tight. I’m gonna give you everything you’ve been begging for.”

His pace picked up, each thrust driving him deeper into you, the rhythm steady and relentless.

“fuck, so good,” he growled, his voice a deep rumble of satisfaction.

“you’re mine, darlin’. every time I see you, every time I touch you, I want to remind you just how much I need you.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel let out a guttural growl, his cock throbbing as he came inside you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely.

“fuck,” he moaned, his voice strained with pleasure.

“I’m never letting you go. you’re mine.”

You moaned loudly, your body trembling as you felt his release, the sensation pushing you to the edge once more. “Joel, yes,” you cried, your voice breaking with the intensity of your pleasure.

“you’re making me come again. I —”

Joel’s arms tightened around you, his movements slow and deliberate as he rode out his orgasm.

“that’s it,” he growled, his voice filled with a mixture of satisfaction and fierce pride.

“come for me, darlin’. let me feel you come all over my cock.”

The combined sensations of his release and your own climax left you breathless, your body trembling beneath him.

Joel’s lips found yours, his kiss deep and possessive as he whispered against your mouth, “so perfect. you’re mine, now and forever.”

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, Joel’s grip on you remained firm, his eyes never leaving yours.

The connection between you was stronger than ever, a blend of passion and possession that promised more intense moments in the future.

When you finally caught your breath, you looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “better than your dreams?”

Joel chuckled softly, his voice low and tender as his thumb gently brushed your cheek.

“darlin’, you’re better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, that same soft, teasing grin still on your lips as you gazed up at him. “glad I could make your dreams come true, old man.”

His eyes darkened at the playful jab, and before you could say another word, Joel leaned in, pressing a rough, claiming kiss to your lips.

“you keep pushin’ me,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and gravelly, “and I’ll show you just how much I’ve been holdin’ back.”

The warmth of Joel’s body pressed against yours, his possessive gaze locked onto your face. His hand trailed lazily over your skin, sending little shivers through you as he traced circles along your waist. The heat between you had cooled slightly, but the intensity of his presence remained.

You lay there, chest still rising and falling as you caught your breath. Joel leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, a rare moment of tenderness from the man who had been all passion and dominance moments earlier.

“You okay?” he asked, his gravelly voice now softer, more intimate.

You smiled, a lazy grin spreading across your face as you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless. “More than okay.”

His lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Good. Didn’t want to be too rough on you.”

You laughed lightly, fingers brushing through his messy hair. “I can handle you, Joel.”

He chuckled, the deep sound rumbling through his chest as he pulled you closer, wrapping his strong arms around you. “You definitely can.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the weight of what had just happened settling in. You had crossed a line, but it felt inevitable. Joel had been circling your thoughts for so long, and now that you had given into each other, it felt like the only natural conclusion.

As you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, your mind wandered to what came next. This wasn’t just a casual fling—not with the way Joel had looked at you, the way he had spoken to you with such raw honesty and desire.

“What are we doing, Joel?” you asked softly, your voice cutting through the silence.

He stiffened slightly, his arms tightening around you. He let out a deep sigh, as if the question had been hanging between you for a while, waiting to be asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest. “I just know I want you. That I need you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the vulnerability in his voice surprising you. You had never seen Joel like this—open, exposed.

“And you’ve got me,” you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “But where do we go from here?”

Joel shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, were softer now, more open.

“We figure it out,” he said, his voice steady, but there was a hint of uncertainty in it. “I ain’t gonna pretend like I have all the answers. But I know I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t just a moment of weakness or lust—Joel wanted more, just like you did.

“I don’t either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want more.”

Joel’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as he leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was a stark contrast to the heated passion from earlier—a kiss that spoke of something deeper, more meaningful.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to read your thoughts. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, his voice firm. “Figure things out, day by day.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “Okay. Day by day.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s lips, and he kissed you again, slow and deliberate. When he pulled away this time, his eyes were filled with that same possessive intensity that had sent a thrill through you earlier.

“But make no mistake, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that made your heart race. “You’re mine now. And I don’t plan on lettin’ anyone else have you.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, the idea of belonging to Joel, of being claimed by him, felt right. You leaned up, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Joel’s eyes darkened at your words, and he pulled you close again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that promised more than just passion. It promised commitment, something solid in the midst of the uncertainty.

For now, that was enough. You had Joel, and he had you—and together, you would figure out what came next.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

I accidentally deleted this post bruh

pussy whipped like me. this was my first fic, hope you enjoyed it.