#I’ve had this idea in my head for months now but when I heard the show was cancelled it was like well now I gotta make it RIGHT NOW

[hanniebaeee]

Disagreements

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: kisses? Other than that, nothing!

Genre: established relationship, fluff, angst

Summary: Hyunjin misses an event important to you, and an argument ensues. He says something he didn't mean, and he'd do anything for your forgiveness!

You stormed into the apartment, throwing your bag on the kitchen counter. The door shut behind you with an audible thud, and you heard Hyunjin sigh before he opened it and stepped inside. 

“Baby, I said I was sorry!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and desperation.

“Hyunjin, do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” you snapped, crossing your arms and glaring at him. 

“For -” He gestured vaguely at the air between you, eyes darting everywhere but your face. “For not being there?”

“You stood me up, Hyunjin! You missed a work event I’ve been talking about for months - one I explicitly told you was important to me!” Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it. “It wasn’t just any event - it was my event, and you didn’t show.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders slumped, his hand running through his hair in a frantic motion.

“I didn’t mean to, okay? I thought my shoot would -”

“Your shoot? Oh my God, why is everything literally about you all the fucking time?! You couldn't have made it work, for just once?!” Your anger boiled over. “Do you have any idea how…of course you wouldn't, because I am always there. I never leave you hanging. And you just take me for granted-”

He winced, his lips parting to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting around like he was searching for a hidden escape hatch.

Hyunjin usually got away with everything. He was so used to being babied by you that this sudden outburst was scaring the hell out of him. And he really didn't have an idea how to work with it. 

“God, you’re impossible,” you muttered, turning away. “You don't even try, do you?”

Hyunjin stiffened. Because now that wasn't true. He tried. He really did.

“Is that what you think?” His words rushed out so fast, he couldn’t stop. “You really think i don't try? Oh my God! How could you say that?!”

“You proved me right, Hyunjin!”

“Babe, this was one time -”

“It's literally always-”

“If that's how you feel then maybe you should just  break up with me.”

You froze, a tear trickling down your cheek. And the silence was suffocating.

Hyunjin blinked, looking absolutely shocked. His eyes went wide as if he had only just registered what he said.

“No, wait, no -” His voice cracked. “That’s not - oh my God, I didn’t mean -”

And the sight of you staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes - your lower lip trembling - killed him. 

You said nothing. Nothing. And that? That was Hyunjin’s undoing.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, his face contorting as he covered his mouth with both hands. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.”

A sound escaped him, a weird mix between a sob and a wail, and before you could blink, he launched himself at you, wrapping you in his arms so tightly your face collided with his chest.

“I’m sorry!” he bawled, voice muffled against your hair. “I didn’t mean it - I swear I didn’t mean it. I’m such an idiot! Oh my God, baby please don't hate me! You’re perfect, and oh shit, this is a disaster -”

“Hyunjin -” you tried, voice muffled by his shirt.

“God, I hate myself!” he cried, pulling you even closer. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I said break up?! Who says that? Who even thinks that?”

His sobs grew louder, chest heaving against yours as he clutched you like you might disappear any moment.

“Hyunjin -” You sighed, hands moving to rub slow circles on his back. "Breathe, baby."

“I'm such a horrible person” he wailed, lifting his head to look at you with tear-soaked eyes. “You’re comforting me when I’m the one who hurt you! Why are you so nice?!”

You stared at him - this gorgeous, ridiculous golden retriever of a man standing in your kitchen and sobbing  - and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. It burst out of you, uncontrollable, even as tears welled in your eyes again.

Hyunjin froze, his brows furrowing.

"Are you laughing at me?” he asked, sniffing because his nose was running from all the crying. 

“You're such an idiot!” you wheezed, clinging to his shoulders for balance.

“That’s not fair,” he whined, pouting as his bottom lip jutted out dramatically. “You’re supposed to be mad at me. I deserve it.”

“I was mad at you,” you said, calming enough to meet his gaze. “But then you just…baby stop crying, please, ‘cos now I don’t know whether to kiss you or roll my eyes forever.”

“Can you do both?” He sniffled, his pout softening into the faintest of smiles.

You reached up, cupping his tear-streaked face as you said, “You’re lucky I love you, you big baby.”

And before he could respond, you pulled him down, kissing him firmly enough to silence whatever self-deprecating comment was surely on the tip of his tongue.

When you pulled back, he gazed at you, eyes shining like you’d just handed him the moon.

“You hurt me, Jinnie, so yeah, you're still in trouble,” you said, arching a brow. “But maybe I’ll forgive you. Eventually.”

He beamed through his tears.

“Eventually sounds pretty sexy to me.” he said with a shrug. 

“Don’t push your luck, Hwang.”

Hyunjin watched you closely as you got ready for bed. You can literally hear the gears turning in his head. 

Hyunjin’s grin widened as your eyes met, the sparkle in his eyes returning with alarming speed. You climbed into bed narrowing your eyes because you just knew that this menace wasn't going to leave you alone till this whole fight was out of the way. 

Hyunjin couldn't sleep through a conflict. You loved that about him, because any disagreement was sorted by bedtime and your home was so damn peaceful because of this one thing. 

“So…you said eventually?” He asked as you settled on your side of the bed.

“I did-”

“So, if I kiss you a few more times -”

“If you think your soggy kisses are -” You didn't finish that sentence because he obviously attacked you right there. 

“ - say, here” He leaned in, brushing his lips against the corner of your mouth. “and maybe here-”

His lips skimmed the edge of your jaw, lingering just enough to make you shiver

“Do I speed up the timeline?” he asked, and you really wanted to smack him across his gorgeous face. Oh you did. But also, you wanted to grab that very face and kiss him senseless. 

So you bit back the smirk that was threatening to show up, tilting your head ever so slightly.

“Do you think flattery is going to work on me right now?” you asked. 

“Not flattery, babe. Strategy.” His voice dipped into that low, teasing tone he knew you couldn’t resist, and his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. 

You narrowed your eyes again, ignoring the way your pulse quickened.

“Hyunjin, seriously, your seduction strategy is just bullshit.”

His laughter rumbled against your chest.

“Okay, first of all, I personally think it's working just fine. And second, you’re dodging the question. Do I get forgiven faster if I make you feel like the goddess you are?”

His lips were already moving again, trailing slow, deliberate kisses down the side of your neck.

You tried, really tried, to maintain your composure, but his mouth found that spot just below your ear, and a traitorous little gasp escaped you. 

“Jinnie -”

“Mmh?” He hummed innocently, his breath warm against your skin. His hands roamed lazily up your back, sliding under your shirt. “You were saying?”

“I was saying -” You inhaled sharply when his teeth grazed your earlobe. “You’re not getting off that easily.”

“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t dream of getting off easily.” he chuckled, his lips curving into a devilish smirk. “But I can definitely make this more interesting.”

Leaning down, he nuzzles your nose like the puppy he was.

“I'm so sorry, angel. I tried. I really did. Even Chan hyung did. But some things are just not up to me…I hate that, and I know you don't deserve it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” he said, his voice soft. 

“I know baby…I know,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “And you're  already working on it, so-”

“And how am I doing?” He tilted his head, eyes twinkling. 

“You’re at a solid…” You pretended to think. “…six out of ten.”

“Six?!” His jaw dropped in mock offense. “After all that neck kissing? I’m hurt.” 

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Step it up, Hyunjinnie.”

“Oh, you asked for this,” he growled playfully, rolling you over so that you were under him in a second. You yelped, holding onto his shoulder tight. 

He hovered over you, his hair falling into his face and his grin as wicked as ever. 

“Ready to upgrade me to a ten?” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Because I'm going to grovel. And you're gonna wish I didn't.”

You laughed, looping your arms around his neck.

“Oh groveling sounds good.”

“Oh, baby,” he purred, closing the gap between you. “Challenge accepted.”

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic

[damned-punk]

That’s Too Bad (Kidd Pirates x Reader)

@gratefulcheeses Kidd Pirate’s Month 2025

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Content Warning: language

Content Description: you and your crewmates purposefully bicker to liven up the quiet moments at sea ♡

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The last several days had been nothing short of chaos which wasn’t entirely unusual, but things had not slowed down at all. In fact, they’d only grown more hectic with the innumerable pranks that every member of the crew had been pulling on one another. It was like a downhill slope that only continued to get steeper, first starting with Dive attaching rhinestones to Wire’s cape throughout the day and escalating to House snatching Kidd’s goggles from his head and hiding out in the hull for hours. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard so many curse words be used consecutively before.

To add to the tomfoolery, she waited him out until he finally relented to his cabin and dressed the goggles with a bow before laying them on his workbench like a present. He was grumpy the next morning, but no one could deny her commitment to fucking with him relentlessly. Bubblegum felt like you needed to be brought into the fun and took it upon himself to turn nearly everything in your cabin upside down. The bed, your books, the pictures on the walls, your clothes, anything that he could flip or turn inside out without completely destroying was maneuvered out of its place.

“Alright, who did it?”, you asked dumbfoundedly as you entered the mess hall for dinner.

“Who did what?”, Dive asked first, initially causing you to place to the blame on her.

You approached her and leant down to meet her at eye level, her expression not quite faltering but she was known for having a decent poker face.

“It wasn’t enough to take the Captain’s goggles?”, you interrogated her.

“With peace and love, I honestly have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”, she replied while backing away, the sight causing the actual culprit to laugh a little too hard.

Your attention shifted to Bubblegum who seemed to be enjoying your frustration, he honestly thought he’d get away with it but resolved to relent when you approached him.

“C’mon, a little bit of change is good every now and then.”, he attempted to defend himself, which was admittedly funny but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’m going to sleep in your cabin tonight while you put everything back in its place.”, you smiled at him before giving him a swift flick between the eyes.

“Damn, you’re just gonna take that?”, Mosh pushed to get a reaction out of Bubblegum while several onlookers giggled at how unserious the situation was.

“I don’t know, she might beat his ass.”, Heat remarked in a further attempt to keep the rivalry alive.

“Might?”, you eyed the bluenette, “I can take him.”

“In a fight, right?”, Boogie bellowed out in laughter, your face heating up at his explicit comment.

“You know what, fuck it.”, you began trudging toward the door, not at all serious in your demeanor, “I’ve had enough of every single one of you.”

“It’s not like you to back down so easily.”, Killer added one last burn, “I guess it’s not a bad thing to know when to walk away.”

The entire crew began laughing at his remark, he wasn’t typically one to partake in everyone’s antics but it was always so much fun when he did. Killer could not only take a joke, but could give one right back with no hesitation. He balanced Kidd’s hotheadedness which was also so much fun to prod.

“I can handle Bubblegum being an asshole, but you? My heart’s in shambles.”, you feigned being upset and although you couldn’t see it, you could feel the sassy eye roll emanating from beneath his mask.

Just as you stepped out onto the main deck in hopes of getting some fresh air, you nearly walked directly into Kidd who was dangling a giggling Emma above his head by her ankle.

“What the fuck did you do this time?”, you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight.

“I might’ve snuck into Kidd’s workshop to hide under his bench in an attempt to scare him and it also might’ve worked.”, she attempted to stifle her laughter as Kidd’s angry face turned to meet your own.

“That’s too bad, I was gonna try that later.”, you replied, snorting a bit as Kidd huffed loudly.

You glanced up at the Captain and placed a hand over your mouth in a feeble attempt to hide your expression. He rolled his eyes and continued past you into the mess hall where yet another barrage of curses could be heard. You scurried back toward your cabin and away from the ever present chaos that was sure to surmount even further. Despite the minor inconveniences, you couldn’t complain. You loved these dorks, tempers and all.

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[sensationseekng]

izzy as the eight of cups - giving up and moving on, courage and loss, letting go of friends, lovers, and old ways of being

(that's the inn in the distance)

eight of cups description from Little Red Tarot:

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[bookshelf-dust]

promise to take care of my heart

carmy berzatto x fem!reader

gif by @emziess

word count: 1,830

warnings: nothing? a little swearing, but this is pure fluff and that’s all

synopsis: carmy wants to cuddle with you for the first time.

a/n: hi! new character, i know. but i’ve become rather attached to carm in the past few months and i had a cute idea for him and here we are. he’s bringing me so much comfort right now and now i’m gonna share that with you <333

————

“Why don’t you pick out a movie or somethin,’ bub?” 

“If I could find your damn remote, Carm, I would.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes on his hands where they sit deep in the dishwater below. Good luck, he thinks. 

You scan the coffee table, the rug below the shabby couch. It’s not like there’s any use checking the tv stand because it’s still a fucking table tray. You know he doesn’t even own the full set of four table trays? He’s just got the one? That knowledge keeps you up at night. Just like how he doesn’t have a ceiling fan pull and has to get tweezers to change the speed.

You find the remote nestled in a stack of freshly organized books. You helped Carmen assemble a very simple bookshelf so that his stash of cookbooks wouldn’t have to live on the floor anymore. 

Just getting to help him turn his apartment into something other than a place to sleep brought you a contagious giddiness. Carmen’s chest aches with how much he’s laughed since he met you. 

Look at all my muscles, Carm. I’m practically ready for my dick now, don’t you think? 

Where’d you even get these? He’d looked down at the little allen wrench in your hand and said I don’t know, they were just here one day. 

Now you have a bookshelf, Bear. What a grown up. 

Carmen wouldn’t let you help him with the dishes after he cooked you dinner. He’d just kissed your shoulder and said, “Let me take care of it, alright?” with that little raise of his brows and quirk of his lips telling you not to argue because you’d never win. 

And when Carmen tells you to let him take care of something, well…you listen. 

You haven’t been dating very long, but it’s been enough that you’ve both developed this rhythm, this way of moving around and with each other and you just…work. 

He doesn’t understand how you can dial his shyness, his hesitance, so quickly, how you can make him feel like a human again so easily. But you do. 

You settle against the back of the couch, flipping through the tv guide (because Carm has never subscribed to any streaming services) until you find something worth listening to. It’s already a few minutes in, but you’ve seen the movie enough times that it doesn’t really matter. 

The overhead light in the kitchen switches off and Carmen pads out to the living room, socked feet dragging on the hardwoods. Your biggest pet peeve is people who don’t pick up their feet, but somehow it’s more tolerable when it’s him. 

He sits down on the edge of the couch. Just sits. On the edge. That means he wants to say something. You give him the time to psych himself up. 

Carmy chews on his thumb nail and rubs his nose before he turns to you, placing his hand on the couch. His blue eyes burn into yours, and the intensity of his gaze, trained on you, makes you feel like the most important person in the world. 

“H-hey, um…can we—could we snuggle, maybe?” He flushes at the fact that he just used the world snuggle. Richie would have his ass so quick if he’d heard him say that. 

Your grin is brilliant. You’ve never cuddled properly with Carmen before. Maybe a head on a shoulder or a leg tossed across another, but never a real cuddle session. “Fuck yeah, we can, Carm.” You giggle and the sound softens that bubble of fear in his chest. 

He bites the inside of his cheek, letting out the barest laugh. 

“How did you want t-to lay, Bear?” You blink at him. “Were you just gonna—” 

He starts to nod. “I was just gonna lay on your chest, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Y-yeah.”

You snort. “Lemme’ stretch out for you and then you can be a teddy bear.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” Carmen shakes his head at you. He lets you pull that shit because he likes it. Secretly.

When you have a pillow under your neck and are laid out on your back, Carm slips beside you against the back of the couch and clumsily settles on top of you. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything, so he settles between your legs, only allowing the weight of his torso to envelop you. 

One arm wraps around your back, the other cradling your hip, his curls brushing your chin. He turns his head to face the tv and lets out a satisfied sigh. 

On instinct your hand threads through his tangled hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sorting through any piece that feels knotted. 

“What is this?” Carmy asks, nodding in the direction of the screen. 

“The Wedding Planner. It has Jlo and Matthew McConaughey in it.” 

“Chick flick?”

You hum in agreeance. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t hate it. Jlo’s character is like you but if the restaurant was a wedding planning business and you were, you know, a chick.”

He laughs lightly against your stomach and you can feel the puff of air over your shirt. 

The weight of Carmen’s body on top of yours is easily the most calming feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can’t get enough of him. 

“This okay?” you ask, scratching his scalp a little more for emphasis. This is a new way of showing affection. Uncharted territory. 

“Hm?” He looks up at you briefly, blue eyes fluttering closed. “Oh yeah, feels nice. I like it.”

You grin and continue to play with his hair. He’s right. It does feel nice. It is. 

The next few minutes go by without any conversation, just silence. But it’s so comfortable. Carmen’s tired gaze is on the tv. You can feel him breathing, feel the way he scratches over your back absently. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it, but he nuzzles his nose against the soft of your stomach every now and then like it’s keeping him safe. 

“You know I thought about being a wedding planner?”

Carmy pushes up onto his elbows, looking at you with the smallest smirk playing on his lips. “Really?”

You playfully bat at his shoulder and he moves to lay back down, but not before pressing a kiss to your sternum over your shirt. “Mhm. Still think about it sometimes.” You pause, but Carm doesn’t say anything yet because he knows you aren’t finished with that thought. 

“I guess I just thought it’d be nice to help put things like that together? The organization would make me feel…complete, I guess. And you know I don’t like to help people in such an extroverted way? I like to be behind the scenes.” You laugh, a little self-deprecatingly. “Does that make sense?”

Carmen squeezes your side. “‘Course it does. And then you could come home and tell me stories about all the family drama you eavesdrop on.”

You giggle, and Carmy loves that he can feel it where he lays on your chest. He can feel your joy, and that’s fucking cool. “That I could.”

He rubs your back in small, gentle circles. “And you know, I happen to have some friends who make pretty good food and would be happy to help if you ever needed.”

“Oh, do you? Well, that’s very helpful, Mr. Berzatto. You’ll have to give me their number.”

Carmy laughs into your chest. A pure, genuine laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, and you truly think you’d have it tattooed all over your body if that was even remotely possible. His glee makes you laugh, and then you’re both snickering like you’re teenagers doing something that’ll get you in big trouble. 

You reach for his hand, the one that’s resting on your hip now, and he lets you lift it towards your face. He bites his cheek, fighting the smile that rises when you press your warm and chapstick covered lips to his knuckles. 

“You have such pretty hands, Carmy.”

He pinches your back. “I still don’t get why you’re so fascinated by them.”

“Because they’re pretty. And, look—” You hold yours up to his. “—they’re so much bigger than mine. And I like your tattoos, obviously. I like that I know how talented you are with your hands and how capable. I’m very lucky to hold such capable hands, Bear.”

“Capable, huh?” He gives you a look, one that makes you want to both tackle him and smack him on the arm. Instead you roll your eyes and he raises up to kiss you. 

“Capable of being the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”

Carmy laughs. It’s that little chuckle, light and airy and like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but he wants to hear more anyway. He flops back down on your chest, making you let out a rather loud oomph. 

You take Carmen’s hand in yours again, rubbing over the dry patches on his knuckles, the scabs on the insides of his fingers, the scar on his palm. His whole life is written in these hands. 

You start massaging the pads of his fingers without even thinking about it. No one’s ever been that gentle with him—definitely not with his hands—and a little part of him melts at the feeling. 

You kiss the tattoo on the back of his hand and just look at his skin. You’re determined to memorize each line and freckle and fucked up cuticle he’s got. 

“At least your nails don’t look like Richie’s, Carm.”

His chest moves with the giggle that travels throughout his body. 

“Trust me, they didn’t look like that when he was still with Tiff.”

You grin, your eyes falling back on the television. Maybe Carm would be open to setting it on the bookshelf? That table tray has put in a lot of work. It deserves a break. 

Carmen can see why you’re so fond of this movie. It’s one of those that doesn’t require much thought, that has humor and feels more human than most. He knows he shouldn’t think it, but you having said what you said before makes him wonder if you’ll plan your own wedding…with him. 

Shut the fuck up, he tells himself. But maybe we’ll get there. 

You catch him smiling when they fuck up the statue in the garden and pretend not to notice. You both keep quiet now, but Carm reaches up and puts your hand back on his head.

Your fingers thread through his curls again, scratching at his scalp gently. Your other hand does the same thing to his back. You know it’s going to lull him to sleep. 

When you say it, he’s already dozed off. But you are so happy that you get to make him feel safe. That he’s comfortable enough to sleep on you like this. Lucky is an understatement. 

“Thank you for letting me in, Bear. I don’t think my life has ever been this beautiful.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

���Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[tootiecakes234]

Aged up Characters

MDNI: smutty

Katsuki had been gone for a month on an assignment and not only had he been away from you all that time, but it’d also been one of the most exhausting assignments he’d been on. Which is why he had EVERY intention of getting home and passing out in your shared bed for the next 3-4 business days.

He had a plan. Get home, take a shower and get directly into bed. Fuck food, fuck putting his things away.

But that entire plan went up in smoke when he got home.

He walks in with all his stuff and just drops everything close to the entrance. He trudges his way through the house and into your bedroom, when he hears the shower cut off.

He knew you were home because your car was in the driveway, but expected you to greet in the front room but he now sees you were otherwise occupied. What he didn’t expect was for you to come scampering out of the damn bathroom completely naked and dripping wet.

You of course screamed bloody murder because you hadn’t heard him come in.

“Katsuki what the hell?!! You scared the shit out of me! I could’ve killed you.”

He snorts, “with what? Your tits? Death by smothering??”

“Maybe dammit. My hearts almost came out of my throat.”

“So this is what you do when I’m gone huh?” He asks as he starts walking over to you. “Walk around naked and wet and what?? Do you air dry?” At this point his voice had dropped an octave or two and you could feel his eyes roaming over your body.

“No i d-don’t air dry…. Well that wasn’t my intention this time. I just left my towel out here.”

“Mmmm…” and he snakes his arms around your waist pulling you to him focusing his eyes on yours. “ I get home after a month and you dont even seem excited to see me.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t tried to give me a heart attack…ouch asshole. Why the hell did you pinch my ass?”

“Be nice to me. I’m tired and jetlagged…. And now, because of you I’m hard” he of course takes this moment the press his groin up against you so you can feel how hard he actually is.

Your hands are resting on his biceps before the slide up and your hands sift into his hair.

“Well let me just dry off and I’ll help you with that” and you have the nerve to try and pull away from him.

“Why would you go dry off when I like you just like this hmm? Wet. And Naked.” And then he presses his firm lips against yours before sliding his hands down to cup both of your ass cheeks.

“Tell me you missed me brat. I’ve been here 5minutes and you haven’t said it.” He says with his lips pressed up against you ear and then he moves down and start placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

“Of, fuck, of course I missed you Katsuki. I sent you voice messages e-everyday telling you how much I missed you.” You whine.

“I don’t believe you.” And you jump before letting out a moan when this asshole slaps the hell out of one of your asscheeks. Then he slides his hand down and in between your puffy pussy lips.

When he pulls back to look at you there is a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you did miss me.”

“I told you.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.

“I can’t be sure though. I need you to prove it.”

“Prove it how Kat? I’m wet for you already. Is that not enough??”

Then his smirk turns into the most devilish smile you’ve ever see. “ i told you im exhausted from fighting villains, and you know making the world a safer place.”

“Get to the point you terrible man”

He chuckles at that. “Well that means I need you to be a big girl and do all the work this time. Need you to get my cock all wet with that filthy mouth of yours and then need you to ride me til I fill up my pretty little cunt ok?? Can you do that for me?”

All you can do is nod your head and drop to your knees.

This definitely not how he pictured his arrival home. It was so much better.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*id just like to say that this fic started with a whole different idea in mind and evolved into this and i never even got around to the original because it was getting too long😭

*also this isn’t proofread in the slightest so sorry🤭

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @zanarkandskylines

[krirebr]

Still Life 1

Pairing: Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Summary: Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad...

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending), past abuse (not Curtis), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, physical scarring, extreme sexism, adult themes, explicit language, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me this time!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, this is for all of you who thought you'd seen the worst angst I could possibly do. Sorry for how much this one's gonna hurt!

Big thanks to @paperweight91 and @bigtreefest who both read so much of this and helped with structuring and world-building. And huge thanks to everyone who showed so much enthusiasm for this idea. I'm so excited to share this story with you!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Nzzzz Nzzzz Nzzzz

Nzzzz Nzzzz Nzzzz

It took a moment for Curtis to pull himself out of sleep enough to realize the incessant noise was his phone vibrating loudly on his nightstand. It took another moment for him to pull himself together enough to answer it. “Hello?” he croaked.

“Morning, Curtis,” a harried voice came through from the other end. “This is Yona from the Omega Welfare Center. I'm so sorry to call so early, but we've had kind of a crazy night here and we're in need of several emergency placements.”

That had him waking up. “What happened?” he asked, seriously, sitting up in bed.

She sighed, all of her exhaustion coming through. “A traditionalist compound a couple hours away got raided by the feds and ATF. They prepared for some omegas, but… There were a lot more. Kids too. It’s been all hands on deck at all five omega centers in the state. We’re over capacity, so we’re just trying to place anyone we can immediately.”

“Shit,” Curtis mumbled to himself. Traditionalist communities popped up on the news every once in a while, populated mostly by alphas on a power trip. But this one sounded bigger than most. He looked at his clock. It was just past five. “I’ve got room for one,” he said. “And I can be there in an hour.”

“Thank you, Curtis. I’ll see you soon.”

Fifty-five minutes later, Curtis was checking in at the center, his second coffee clutched in one hand. He’d been volunteering there as a foster Alpha for about three years. Mostly short-term placements. His longest one was just over a month. He provided safe touch, grounding, and a sense of security to omegas who needed to get back on their feet. He’d help them through heats when necessary, never knotting them, but whatever else they might need. Often, it was just his scent. It made him feel good, to be able to help these omegas, offer a positive alpha experience to omegas who hadn’t had many.

He’d worked with a few different case workers during his time. Yona had been the main one for the past year. He’d never heard her sound like she had that morning.

Even just at the front desk, he could sense how much more chaotic it was here than usual. He could hear babies screaming beyond the office door, endless anxious chatter. The entire building reeked of omegas in distress. It made his nose itch and his skin crawl.

After a few minutes of waiting, Yona came and got him. “How bad is it?” he asked the omega as she hurriedly led him down the hall. 

She showed him into a small meeting room as she answered, “Really, really bad. I’ve never seen anything like it. None of them are talking, but from what we can gather, most of them have spent their entire lives in the compound. No IDs, no papers. Figuring out who they are has been nearly impossible.  And as terrible as it may have been, their whole world was ripped apart in the last twenty-four hours. No one feels like cooperating. We hope you might have better luck as an alpha.”

“You think they'll talk to me?” 

She shakes her head. “Just the Omega we're placing with you. They've all been taught never to trust outsiders, but they've also been raised to see Alphas as the ultimate authority. So, it's worth a shot.”

He nodded, slowly. “What do you need?”

“Just basic identifying information for now. So we can see if she even exists in any sort of governmental system. Then we can go from there.”

“If you don’t have any information, what makes you think I’ll be a good fit for her?”

“Honestly,” Yona said, with a helpless shrug, “you only have room for one and she doesn’t have any pups. That’s it. Listen, I know this isn’t how we normally do things and I’m so sorry I’m just throwing you into it without any preparation, but we’re really desperate here. They’re all high needs, high risk. There’s no existing support network for them, and there are more of them than we have room for. So we called all of our most experienced, most dependable alphas first thing this morning so we can focus on the ones we have room to house here. I know it isn’t fair to you but–”

“Hey,” Curtis interrupted. “It’s ok, I understand. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“Thank you,” she breathed out, a small fraction of the tension she’d been holding bleeding out of her shoulders. “Ok, I’m gonna go bring her in.” 

She slipped through the door and Curtis leaned against the table in the center of the room as he waited. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on putting together a to-do list. He had two sets of nesting supplies always ready, one with his scent and one without. In the next few days, he’d try to figure out if there was anything else this omega wanted for the nest. He’d gone grocery shopping the day before, so his pantry was stocked, but he’d see if there were any favorite comfort foods he could grab in his next shop. He needed to rearrange his work schedule, push back some deadlines so he’d have time to get the omega settled. He had no idea what they’d be bringing with them, so a shopping trip for toiletries and clothes would probably be necessary. Depending on the omega's state, maybe he'd be able to get the shopping done on the way back to his house. He glanced at the time on his phone. Shit. Depending on what was open.

At movement right outside the door, he stood at attention. Yona came back in with you right behind her. He took a good look at you. You wore a rumpled long-sleeved floral dress that went down to your ankles. It was faded like it’d been washed too many times. Your eyes were fixed on the tennis shoes you wore, which had probably been white at one point, but now were discolored and looked like they didn’t fit quite right. 

There was a little hand-written number ten pinned to your dress. He wanted to raise a judgemental brow at Yona, but if none of you would say your names, he supposed Yona and her team had to come up with some way to keep track of you all.

He had to stifle a gasp when his eyes landed on your neck. There was a large bite scar over your mating gland. Unlike the neat and pretty, well-healed ones he was used to seeing, yours was deep and jagged, red and white, scar tissue bubbling up where your flesh had clearly been torn. This didn’t look like a mating bite. It was the sort of bite meant to inflict pain. What sort of alpha had you had??

Your eyes stayed on the floor, your expression blank but your scent said so much – panic, sadness, terror, relief all jumbled together. He wanted to reach out and touch you, his alpha instincts were going haywire, but he kept his hands to himself. 

“This is Curtis,” Yona said to you. “He's the alpha who's going to look after you until we can get all this sorted.”

You didn’t react at all, just stood there, stiff as a board with your eyes on your shoes.

He stayed where he was, conscious of giving you space. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said, as gently as he could. Then, with a glance to Yona, “Can you tell me your name?”

Your face scrunched up and the fear in your scent spiked but you didn’t say anything. He sighed. Shit. He really didn’t want to have to use an alpha command with you right now. That could be disastrous for any dynamic he tried to build with you. But they needed this information. He really, really hoped you wouldn’t make him force you.

“Omega, what’s your name?” he asked as firmly as he could, hopefully without scaring you. “I need to know.”

You closed your eyes tightly and he thought he saw the smallest little head shake. There was another moment of silence and he looked at Yona nervously. But then, you said it. So quietly he almost didn’t catch it. But you said it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yona frantically scribbling it down, but his focus was completely on you.

He tried to keep his sigh of relief to himself. “That was so good. Thank you. You’re doing so well,” he said, keeping the praise soft, hoping you could scent how pleased he was with you. “When were you born?”

You gave up your birthday a little more easily, but you left off the year. 

“That’s great. Thank you. Do you know how old you are?” he asked, maintaining his gentle tone, knowing it was possible that you didn’t.

For whatever reason, it was that that finally got a reaction out of you. You looked up at him, so he could finally see your eyes, and snarled, “I’m not stupid!”

There was a beat when no one did anything. Curtis and Yona just stared at you in shock. The snarl was frozen on your face until it suddenly disappeared and your eyes got wide. Before he was able to process any of what was happening, you’d dropped down onto your knees. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Alpha, I’m sorry.” You just keep repeating that in a constant stream, your head tucked to your chest.

Repeatedly mixed into that jumble was a number. It took Curtis a few moments to realize it was your age. You were answering his question. He quietly repeated it to Yona, then dropped down to his knees as well so he could be closer to your level. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re right. You aren’t stupid. I can already tell how smart you are. It’s okay. I’m not mad.” He wanted to reach out and touch you, wrap you in his arms, even, comfort you however he could. But he was too afraid that that’d make you panic even more. That was a boundary he couldn’t cross. Not yet. He stayed down there, whispering reassurances to you for as long as it took for you to stop apologizing, and a few extra minutes for your breathing to calm down. Once you seemed like you were back in the present moment, he moved to a crouch. “Think you can stand up for me, honey?”

You nodded, but you were back to keeping your eyes downcast. “Yes, Alpha.”

He wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to call him ‘Alpha,’ that ‘Curtis’ was just fine. But that could wait until you were a little more comfortable. Once he had you home, maybe. He could already tell that picking his battles was going to be important.

“Thank you,” he said as he stood up to his full height, and you did as well. “You answered my questions so well. You gave me exactly what I needed.” He looked to Yona to see if there was anything else.

“Do you have any questions for me or Curtis?” she asked you.

You shook your head, emphatically, hunching your shoulders. The room filled with the scent of fear again.

“Okay… that’s fine,” Yona said, and he could tell how much she hated this. “Well,” she turned to Curtis, “I’ll go get the paperwork and then you two can get home. I’ll be right back,” she said to you, then left the room. 

This was happening too fast. In normal circumstances, you would have already been at the center for a few weeks, at least, with access to mental health professionals, life skill classes, and support groups. He’d be the last step before going back to the real world. You’d be ready to spend time with an alpha. Ready to work through processing positive physical attachments. Ready to learn how to share space with someone who wasn’t a threat to you. You’d be ready to slowly take steps into the world, with him there to support you.

You had backed yourself into the corner now. He could see the way every single muscle in your body was trying not to cower. You weren’t ready. You were nowhere near ready. But with all the resources for at-risk omegas pushed to their limit by this raid, what would happen to you if he didn’t take you? As insufficient as it might be, his help could be all you’d be able to get. This wasn’t how it should be, but he’d do everything he could for you.

Yona came back in and he watched her take you in, sighing at your state. He knew she was thinking the same things he was. “Ok,” she said, handing him the packet of forms to sign. “No changes since last time. You know the drill.”

He nodded as he grabbed them and sat down at the table, getting to work signing where he was supposed to. As he did, he felt your eyes on him as the scent of your apprehension filled the room.

Yona called your name. “Let’s go outside for a minute while Curtis finishes up.”

You both left quietly. This, too, was part of normal procedure. She was asking if you were sure you were comfortable leaving with him, telling you you had the option to say no, getting your verbal and written consent, and giving you cards with all the emergency numbers on them. He was afraid this situation might stretch the legal definition of informed consent. Based on everything he’d seen so far, he couldn’t picture a scenario where you’d say no. 

Nothing about this felt good, but everyone’s hands were tied. And he knew that he’d do everything he could to keep you as safe as possible.

A few minutes after he’d finished signing the last page, you and Yona came back in. A worn knapsack hung from your fingers. It was small, confirming Curtis’s suspicions that you didn’t have much in the way of clothes. Alright, that was priority number one.

Yona had a thin folder in her hand that she immediately passed to Curtis. “The regular information, along with her schedule of appointments for the next few weeks, both doctor and therapist. And the card for the agent in charge of the investigation into the compound, in case anything pertinent comes up.” Then she turned to you with a small box. “I’ve got a couple packets of suppressants for you. Do you want them or do you want Curtis to keep track of them for you?”

Your eyes cut to him suspiciously then flitted back to the floor. “Alpha,” you muttered.

“Okay,” Yona said, handing the box to Curtis as well. Then she clapped her hands together, her face set in grim determination. “I won’t keep you any longer then. I’ll see you both next week.”

On the way out of the center, Curtis was all too aware of the way you walked exactly three steps behind him, one step to the left. That wasn’t just old-fashioned, it was archaic. He’d never seen an omega do it in real life.

At his truck, you looked at the truckbed in a way that made him worried you might try to ride back there, so he opened the passenger door for you and waited for you to get in. He resisted the part of his alpha instincts that wanted to buckle you in. And after a gentle request, you did it yourself.

As the two of you hit the road, he reached over to turn the radio on. He tried to move slowly, but you still flinched. “Want some music?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t respond, so he found an oldies station and left the volume low. His plan for the day had shifted a bit. You definitely weren’t ready to go shopping. That was fine. There was nothing that couldn’t be delivered.

About five minutes into the drive, the strong scent of your tears filled the cab. He looked over at you. You were huddled against the door, as far away from him as you could get. Your face was pressed against the window, so all he could see was the back of your head. But he could hear your sniffles and he could smell your distress.

It took everything in him to not pull over right now and reach over to comfort you. Pull you into his arms. Rub soothing circles on your back. But he knew that would do more harm than good. His touch wouldn’t be welcome. Yet. You weren’t ready.

And god, he wasn’t either. He wasn’t ready for any of this. But damn it, he was going to try.

Tag List is open!

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @thiquefunlover63 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stellar-solar-flare @crazyunsexycool @littlelearningbrat

[nastyc2nt]

hiiiiiii this is my first time requesting a fic !!!

I heard that your requests were open so I said fuck it let’s do this !!!! I would like to request “ Izuku with a breeding kink” please and thank uuuu ( no pressure to do this , the last thing I want is to make u feel uncomfortable!) 💋💋💋

⊹౨ৎ Getting Stuffed ⊹౨ৎ

╰┈➤ Husband!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦

╰┈➤ Warnings: Breeding, C*ming inside, baby making, talks of pregnancy, short, smut, izuku is a loving rough man.

╰┈➤ Words: 0.4k

It’s been months since you moved into this big apartment, a few extra rooms you had nothing to do with. It was finally time to upgrade from the comfy, but tiny apartment you both first bought when you got together. He had a office now, and you did too, a bigger kitchen and dining room- and I living room that could fit more couches then one.

“What do you think this room should be turned into?” Izuku asks while his arms hug your waist from behind, slowly humming a tone.

“Maybe we could have two guest rooms? Yeah, for when both our parents wanna come stay- Oh my gosh, should we host a family dinner for Christmas?” he watched the gears turn in your head while rambling on about Christmas. He had a idea in mind but he kept quiet. 

His thoughts weren’t silent for long.

“What’s this?” Izuku draped his coat over the chair pulled out for him. You sat at the table with food and candles ready for him. It was suspicious but he always loved the conversation that followed events like theses.

That’s when you asked what he thought about having kids. “I’ve been thinking and we are both doing so well right now, and I’m getting older so having a baby with a few more young years left would be ideal.” you listed reasons of your argument. He listens, still standing and ready for you to let him speak.

✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦

“I love you,” his teeth bite sloppily at your neck while he fucks into you, your legs spread around him. It’s been about two hours since he’s pounced on you and has stuffed you full of his loads two times.

“I’ve been dreaming of making your belly sweep for years, baby, I can’t believe I get to finally have a family with you.” Your nails dig into his back. And you definitely have drawn some blood. “Take it— take my cock.” He cried out and threw his head back as his hips rush into yours.

“Izu, I’m gonna cum again,” you drool and warn him of your upcoming orgasm. His hands fly down to your puffy clit and rubs it with his thumb and makes sure to place it just right.

“Cum, please baby. I promise to give you other load soon, gonna’ fill you up.” he looks down and sees your face scrunched up and eyes closed r before twitching as you cum undone. Your hole pulses and shots your sticky juices out, making it more wet on your things from his thrusts.

“Don’t stop— Don’t stop,” you babble on repeatedly as you wrap your legs around him to keep him inside.

His hand takes ahold of yours while pinning it against the soft sheets, “wouldn’t dream of it. Gonna fuck you for weeks until my seed sticks.”

¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

Tagslist: @sparklylanddetective @fvitos

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language! Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents. Wordcount: 5.4k A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 

   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 

   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”

   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 

   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 

   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

   “You know nothing, you prick!”

   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

   “How do you dare question my commitment?”

   “At least I care for your daughters.”

   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

   “Yes. Please.”

   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

   “Stop it, Angel.”

   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

[cosmicdahlias]

Christmas Across the Rio Grande

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

Christmas has come and you’re spending it getting drunk with an old, hardened Logan.

tags: age gap, alcohol use, drunk sex, couch sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

sooo timeline-wise this takes place at the end of 2028. i tried to do my best research as to when caliban comes into the picture and there wasn’t much, but from what i’ve read it seems logan recruited him some time in 2029, so he will not be in this fic. sorry for posting a christmas fic a day late, i only got the idea for this two days ago 😭

Life had not been the same in months. Charles Xavier, once head and founder of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, had developed dementia, leading to frequent destructive telepathic seizures. One such seizure became known as the Westchester Incident, leaving the school destroyed, many injured, and some of your fellow mutants dead.

Having grown up in an orphanage until aging out of the system and spending the first eight years of adulthood on the streets, Charles was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father and the school was the only place that ever truly felt like home. In such a short time you had lost both. Even though Charles was still very much alive, the dementia left him a shell of his former self.

After Westchester the United States government declared Charles’ brain as a “weapon of mass destruction”, leaving you and another mutant to take him and go on the run, fleeing to an abandoned smelting plant in Mexico just across the Rio Grande.

The other mutant was the notorious Wolverine, Logan Howlett. For reasons unknown to you, his appearance had changed dramatically in the last five years. Despite not being able to age he looked like he’d gone from forty to sixty in record time.

Since escaping with you and Charles to Mexico, Logan had taken to going by “James”, his actual name, and worked as a limo driver in the border city of El Paso. He would regularly smuggle in the drugs to keep Charles’ seizures at bay.

In the days before Westchester you were never fond of Logan. He was a loner, seeming to keep everyone at arm’s length, save for those he would bed. Perhaps it was his tendencies towards promiscuity when he claimed to be in love with Jean Grey, a married woman, that irked you more than his personality.

He was passed around the mansion so frequently that from what you’d heard there were times he accidentally “double booked” himself. There was a part of you, buried somewhere deep, that harbored a resentment towards him for never seeking out your affections like he did for nearly any other adult with a pulse.

Living in close proximity since being thrust into exile with him had softened your opinions considerably. The shared trauma of losing everything and everyone had brought you two closer, as close as he would allow.

December was coming to an end. The nights were blisteringly cold and the winds only served to make them colder. The poorly insulated, run-down plant did little to protect you from the elements.

You were heading back inside from painstakingly, but successfully, attempting to medicate Charles. The heavy gales howled, making it a struggle to close the door before finally managing slam it shut. You turned around to see Logan sitting on the couch, bottle of whiskey in hand. He was wearing his typical non-work attire, a white tank top and jeans.

“He finally down?” He asked.

“For now, I swear those drugs used to knock him out for longer. He wouldn’t stop going on about Taco Bell for some reason.”

“Yeah, he uh… he does that a lot now.”

You gave a heavy sigh.

“It just sucks because it makes those moments where he acts like himself again hurt more.”

“What’d he say this time?”

“He just- I don’t know- whenever he actually says my name I know it’s him in there. Most of the time he calls me Jean, but I-“ your voice began to break “I don’t know how much more of this I can take Logan, watching his mind wither away into nothing.” You said, tears forming in your eyes.

For a moment you swore you saw a flicker of concern spread across his face.

“I’m thinking of bringing in some extra help.” He said.

“And what? We risk someone else knowing that we’re harboring a fugitive?”

“With me working that leaves you as the only one here most of the time. If god forbid something happens while I’m out and he hurts you, what then?”

You fell silent. He was right, you couldn’t keep caring for Charles alone when his seizures could be so dangerous and unpredictable. You had no rebuttal.

“Fine, but finding another mutant won’t be easy.”

“I’m well aware, but I’m done talking business, you look like you could use a drink.”

Logan extended out his bottle of whiskey, a rare invitation for you to join him. You smirked and took it.

“Look at you actually wanting to interact with someone for once.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

You sat next to him on the moth-eaten couch, drinking a few shots worth from the bottle.

“Thirsty?” Logan asked with a cocked brow.

“Shut up, it’s been a long day.” You retorted, downing another shot and handing the bottle back to him.

Between the two of you the whiskey was finished within half an hour, leaving you significantly intoxicated, him slightly less so. When drunk Logan was far more open, and for the first time since Westchester you actually saw him smile. As the night progressed the two of you reminisced about life before Mexico and shared life stories you hadn’t told each other.

“A cage fighter?” You giggled.

“Yeah, went by Wolverine back then too.”

“Wow, too lazy to even try to come up with another name?” You teased as you looked down at your phone and read the time, midnight of the 25th.

“Oh shit, it’s already Christmas.” You said.

“Honestly wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say anything, the days just run together at this point.”

“No kidding, everything’s so different now.”

“… Yeah.”

A wistful silence hung in the air for a moment before you spoke.

“You know it’s hard not to miss the holidays back at the school… can’t say I miss Jean’s cooking though. I know how you felt about her, but that woman could not season food to save her life. I’m pretty sure she thought salt was too spicy.”

Logan gave a chuckle.

“Can’t disagree with you on that one.”

“I think what I miss most was seeing the kids all happy on Christmas morning, growing up in an orphanage I never got that for myself. Thanks to Bobby they always had a good snowball fight.”

“I miss that kid. Him and Rogue.”

“Kid? They were both pushing 40.” You laughed.

“They were kids when I met them and that’s always how I’ll remember them. Especially Rogue.”

“I always thought she saw you as like a father figure.”

“She definitely did, no matter how many times I told her not to.”

“I miss her so much, she was the first one other than Charles to make me feel like I belonged there. Fuck, I just miss all of them. It was only five years, but it was the best damn five years of my life, actually having something like a family.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You gave a wry smile.

“And in the end out of all of the X-Men to be stuck with of course it had to be you.” You teased, elbowing him playfully.

“You say that like it’s a joke, but you really had it in for me.”

“I mean I did, but you didn’t exactly come off as a nice guy.”

“I can be a nice guy, you just never tried to get to know me.”

“Would you have let me though?”

“Maybe.”

He looked at you in a way you’d never seen from him before, it made your heart do a backflip.

“You know, even if I wasn’t crazy about you back then I’m glad you’re here with me.” You said.

Logan raised a brow.

“Why’s that?”

“Because as much as I hate to say it, I’ve grown to like you.”

“A mistake honestly.” He chuckled.

A cold desert wind suddenly blew against dilapidated smelting plant. Frigid air crept in through the gaps in the walls, eliciting a shiver as it hit you.

“Cold?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah.“

“Alright, c’mere.”

Logan pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you. His body radiated an incredible amount of heat, a more than welcoming feeling in the bitter temperatures.

“Holy shit, you’re like a fucking furnace.” You said.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“God yes.”

His hands began to wander down to the small of your back. You traced the outline of his pecs with your fingertips. He looked at you, eyes betraying an intense desire as he cupped your cheek, coming in close.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.” You whispered as his lips met yours.

Starting slow and soft, Logan’s kisses quickly turned more passionate, a distinct hunger to them. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You felt his hard cock press into you through his jeans. You rolled your hips against him, causing him to let out a growl. He lowered his head, kissing and gingerly biting your neck. You moaned as his teeth scraped against the soft skin.

His hands began to drift to the hem of your shirt, gathering the fabric in his fingers and slowly lifting it over your head. He unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off your arms and tossing its aside. You watched his eyes take in the curvature of your breasts.

“Good fuckin’ god, you’re perfect.” He whispered, cupping one of your breasts and circling the nipple with his thumb.

Logan’s hands fell to your hips, tugging down your jeans until they landed on the floor with your shirt. His fingers circled your clit over your panties, the thin barrier of fabric did little to keep you from turning into a whimpering mess.

“Goddam, I love those little noises.“

Logan dipped his head down to kiss your neck again, you moaned and began to grind yourself against him.

“Hmm, getting excited there, princess? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.” You whimpered.

“Yeah? Let me make it feel even better for you, babygirl.”

Logan hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs. He slipped a hand between your thighs, dragging his fingers along the slit of your dripping pussy.

“So wet and worked up for me.”

Logan returned his fingers to your clit, you dug your nails into his shoulders, the feeling of direct stimulation was almost too overwhelming. It had been far too long since you were last touched like this, or even touched yourself. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“F- fuck, I’m- I’m so close.”

“There you go, that’s it. Cum for me, princess.”

Logan pulled you into a kiss with his free hand as you came undone on his fingers, the electric pulses of your orgasm surging through you.

“Oh god, Logan.” You moaned against his mouth.

Logan kissed you aggressively as your orgasm faded. He dropped his head to your breasts, peppering kisses to them as he spoke.

“God, you’re so hot when you cum. You need to see what you’re doing to me, babygirl.”

Logan’s hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it, he unzipped his jeans and freed his already throbbing cock from his boxers. Logan took your hand in his, guiding it to wrap around his shaft. You gathered beads of precum from his head, using it to lubricate the length of his cock as you stroked him.

“Fuuuck, your hand feels good, but I need that pussy. You wanna ride me, princess?”

You nodded.

“That’s my good girl.”

You shifted yourself to hover just above is cock, sinking down onto him, barely taking more than his head before wincing as you felt his massive girth stretch you wide.

“You alright?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah, just been a while. Not used to one this big either.”

“Then take it slow, princess. Don’t rush it.”

You continued to lower yourself onto his cock, following his instructions to go slow. A small shudder escaped his lips.

“Fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”

You reached the hilt of his shaft, feeling him throb inside you as you began to lift and drop your hips.

“Attagirl, just like that. Nice and easy.” Logan said, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Christ, living with you was starting to drive me crazy. I could barely take seeing you in the summer, your ass in those little shorts. You don’t know how many times I had to jerk off because of you.”

You blushed and whimpered at the thought of Logan getting so worked up over you.

“Hmm, you like that, babygirl? You like knowing you made this old man stroke his fat fuckin’ cock to you?” He grunted as he grabbed your hips, thrusting up into you.

You nodded.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You moved yourself up and down on his cock, sliding him all the way out until only the head remained before taking his full length back deep inside you. Logan’s eyes wandered over every inch of body. His hand moved to one of your breasts.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of these tits, and this ass.” He growled.

He raised his hand and brought it down sharply on your ass, eliciting a yelp.

“Sorry, princess, couldn’t help myself.”

“N- no it’s okay, I like it.”

“Oh? You like it rough, huh?”

“Y- yeah.”

“Well, guess I gotta fuck you senseless then.”

In one swift motion Logan grabbed you by the waist, picking you up and throwing you down onto the couch on your back with him on top of you. You barely had a second to adjust to the new position before he forced every inch of himself inside you. He pinned your wrists above your head as he fucked you with a punishing speed.

“How’s that feel? Am I rough enough for you, princess?”

“Y- yeah. F- feels so good.”

“Attagirl.”

Logan’s breathing hitched, his hips stuttering.

“Christ, that tight little pussy’s gonna make me fuckin’ cum. Where do you want it, babygirl?” Logan panted.

“In me, I need you to cum in me. Please.” You whined.

“Jesus, I know you’re not on the pill, but keep begging like that and I’ll have to knock you up.”

“Oh god, please. I don’t care if we’re unprotected. I need it, fucking breed me.” You pleaded.

Your words ignited something within him. He thrusted furiously into you at a blinding pace, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He leaned down and sank his teeth into your neck and gave a loud growl, slamming the full length of his cock inside you as he came hot, thick ropes deep in you.

Logan gave a last few thrusts, his breathing beginning to settle. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“Jesus Christ, princess, it’s been way too damn long since someone’s made me feel that good. I hope you know this is not a one time thing, you’re fuckin’ mine now.”

You laced your fingers in his salt and pepper hair, kissing him passionately. He pulled out and you moved to dress yourself, but were interrupted by him grabbing your waist.

“No princess, you’re staying with me.”

He picked you up and carried you to his room, setting you down on the bed. He laid next to you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. Between the exhaustion of the day and the warmth radiating from Logan, you felt your eyelids grow heavy. He kissed the top of your head as you drifted off to sleep.

[headkiss]

I’ve got a slightly angsty idea for Hotch if you’d like it:

Reader gets into an accident of some kind and ends up in the hospital, and Hotch is worrying out of his mind the whole time because he’s on a case or something, but all is well and it’s fluffy at the end and just love and “don’t ever scare me like that again” and all that good stuff

hiii thank u so much for ur request!!! sorry it’s taken a couple of months to get to </3 i hope u like it!! | 0.6k mentions of a car accident and a teeny tiny injury, and fluff (duh)

“Aaron?”

Hotch knew something was wrong as soon as you’d called in the middle of the day while he was away. You’d always wait for him to call first, to make sure he had the time.

So, the buzz of his phone in his pocket worried him. Even more so when he heard the way your voice shook through the speaker.

He walked away from the rest of the team, leaving their temporary conference room at the local police station and finding somewhere quiet before speaking, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m okay, I promise, but…” you paused to clear your throat, forcing your startled tears back, because you really were okay. “I got in an accident. Nobody’s hurt, but they want to take me to the hospital to make sure I don’t have a concussion or anything.”

Aaron’s heart was pounding, and he had to remind himself that you weren’t badly hurt, that you were right there on the other side of the phone, talking and breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he was closer to you.

“Okay,” he says, though it comes out in a breath. “Okay, I’m gonna try to get home.”

“No, Aaron, you really don’t have to. I’m not injured, and they need you there.”

Truthfully, you’d love to have him beside you, his hand tight in yours, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears, his presence calming enough. But you knew what you were getting into as soon as you started dating Hotch, and you’d never expect him to have to choose between you and his job.

“The team is more than capable of doing this without me, I promise. I’m coming to you, alright?”

You know there’s no changing his mind, and selfishly, you don’t want to. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

He doesn’t want to hang up the phone, doesn’t want to leave room for the worry and fear that’s already creeping up on him, but he does.

The team, of course, is very understanding, reassuring him that they can handle this case and that he should get home, telling him to let you know they all hope you’re okay. He’s driving to the airport within minutes.

It’s only a few hours later that Aaron lands, rushing back to your place straight from his flight after confirming with you that’s where you’d be. His hand shakes the slightest bit as he slips his spare key into your door.

Aaron breathes your name when he sees you on your couch, a small bandage on your cheek. “You said you weren’t hurt.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest as he crosses the room and crouches in front of you, cradling your face in his hand so gently your eyes well up. The shock seems to catch up to you, the relief you didn’t know you needed just by having him near is almost overwhelming.

“I’m not,” you sniffle once and his eyebrows furrow. “I’m not hurt, I promise. It barely even bled. I guess it’s just sinking in now.”

You blink and a tear slips down your cheek, but Hotch is quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, tugging you as close as possible, your cheek buried against his collar, his hand running up and down your back.

You can hear his heart beating in his chest, quicker than usual, but you don’t call him out on it.

“You’re okay,” he says, and Aaron’s not sure who he’s reassuring more.

“My car’s probably totaled,” you mutter against him.

“Cars are replaceable, you aren’t.” He drops his mouth to the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“I was scared,” you admit quietly.

“I know, honey,” he says, shifting so that his cheek is resting atop your head. “I was, too.”

[theonottsbxtch]

it's ok im ok | LN4

an: it's ok im ok by tate mcrae is out and i had this idea the minute i heard it the first time so i've been writing this the last two hours. this was very rushed so please be nice, slight oscar x yn (no use of yn)

written and smau

face claim: pintrest and queen t8

newgirlfriend just posted

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen1 and 159,382 others

oh he's so perfect

**coments have been restricted**

When she’d first broken up with Lando, she’d been distraught. He was the love of her life, or at least she’d thought. For over a month, she’d spent every passing moment reminiscing on all the good parts she could remember of the relationship, but as that month came to a close, the fog began to lift. 

There was no good.

At first there was, there had been the dates, the gifts, the flowers and the continuous travelling alongside her. The texts of ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love you’ at least once a day had diminished into a ‘gn’ and ‘gm’ eleven months into the relationship. 

The affection that once felt so constant had turned into something routine, something obligatory. She’d ignored the signs at first, brushing off the growing distance as just a phase, believing things would eventually go back to how they were in the beginning. But they didn’t.

She remembered the nights when he would cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was too tired from work, yet his social media was filled with stories of nights out with his friends. The times he’d forgotten important moments — her promotion at work, her 21st birthday, their anniversary. Every time, he had a perfectly reasonable excuse that she had willingly swallowed, desperate to hold onto the image of the man she’d thought he was.

The excuses, the half-hearted apologies, and the lack of effort slowly chipped away at her, until one day, she woke up feeling emptier than ever, wondering where she’d gone wrong. She’d blamed herself, convinced she was being too demanding, too needy.

But now, with some distance, she could see it all for what it was: she’d been in love with an idea of him, a projection of her own desires. The real Lando was far from the prince charming she had made him out to be. He was just a guy who knew how to charm his way through life, good at saying the right things but never following through.

She realised now that the man she’d loved never truly existed; he was a mirage, built from wishful thinking and her own desperation to be loved.

So when Mclaren invited her to celebrate the new season, she took it knowing she was a mature adult, after all he’d moved on. So could she.

“She’s posted him again,” Her best friend spoke from the sofa where she’d been waiting for her to touch up her makeup. “Caption is ‘Oh he’s so perfect’ with some flowers and a teddy bear.”

“Poor girl.” She muttered to herself as she applied some gloss. “She’s still in the honeymoon phase,”

Her best friend hummed and laughed as she continued to scroll through the photos.

Unlike many ex girlfriends, she didn't hate the new girl, no if anything she pitied the next girl and the inevitable one after that, it wasn’t their fault that he acted like the perfect gentleman at the start.

She sighed, putting the lip gloss down and meeting her own eyes in the mirror. "I mean, she’s just like I was," she added, more to herself than to her friend. "I remember thinking he was my perfect match, too. All those little gestures, the compliments, the way he always seemed to know exactly what I wanted to hear. I fell for it, hard."

Her friend glanced up from the phone, a knowing look in her eyes. "Yeah, but you saw through it eventually. And you got out."

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I did. And I’m not gonna pretend that was easy, but I did it. I’ve just gotta hope she figures it out sooner rather than later."

Her friend grinned. "I bet you’re dying to go up to her tonight and give her a friendly warning."

She laughed at that, shaking her head. "Oh, no. I’m not getting involved unless the opportunity comes up . She won’t listen anyway; no one does when they’re in the thick of it. Besides, it's not my place."

Her friend tilted her head, watching her closely. "You’re really okay with all this?"

She paused for a moment, considering her answer. Was she really okay? Seeing those photos had stirred something in her, but it wasn’t jealousy. It was more like a dull ache, a memory of a wound that had already healed. "I think so," she said finally, smiling a little. "I mean, it still sucks to see, but not in the way it used to. I guess... I’m more relieved than anything. Relieved that it’s not me anymore."

Her friend nodded in approval. "That’s growth, babe. And tonight, we’re gonna celebrate that growth with some champagne and dancing. No thinking about exes, just fun."

She laughed, grabbing her bag and turning to face her friend. "Deal. Now, let’s get out of here before I change my mind."

They headed out the door, a cool breeze greeting them as they stepped into the evening air. As they walked to the car, she glanced at her phone one more time, catching a glimpse of Lando’s face on her social media feed. His arm was around the new girl, that same easy smile on his lips, the same charm in his eyes. But this time, it didn’t sting. It didn’t make her chest tight or her stomach drop. She felt...nothing.

“His teammate was fitter anyway,” At first she hadn’t heard it but when she did, she turned to face her friend, “What? I’m saying what we all saw.”

“I’m not stirring that pot.”

“You’re not but I am.” Her friend laughed as she pulled out of the parking lot, “Think about it, he’ll be there tonight, freshly broken up. Maybe you two can bond over that.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at her friend, “He broke up with his girlfriend?”

“I knew you were interested!”

She rolled her eyes, feeling a flush creep up her neck. "I’m not interested," she insisted, but the hint of a smile played at the corners of her lips, betraying her. "It’s just… surprising, that’s all."

Her friend shot her a knowing look. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen how you look at him. All those race weekends, sneaking glances when you thought no one was watching. You can’t deny it.”

She laughed, a light, genuine sound she hadn’t heard from herself in a while. "You’re imagining things. Besides, just because Lando's teammate is single doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into something new."

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about jumping? Maybe just dip a toe in. Have fun for once. You deserve it."

She hesitated, biting her lip as the car sped through the city streets. "I don’t know… it just feels too soon."

"Too soon? Or maybe the perfect time?" her friend challenged. "It’s not about replacing Lando. It’s about letting yourself feel good again."

She stared out the window, watching the city lights blur into a kaleidoscope of colours. Her friend was right. She had spent so long grieving over Lando, replaying every mistake and wondering where she went wrong. Maybe it was time to let someone else in, even just a little.

“Okay," she finally said, her voice steady. "If I see him tonight, I’ll talk to him. No expectations, no pressure. Just… a conversation."

Her friend grinned. “Now, that’s the spirit. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find out he’s more than just a pretty face.”

She laughed again, this time with more ease. “Or maybe I’ll find out he’s just another disaster waiting to happen.”

Her friend chuckled, “Only one way to find out.”

By the time they’d pulled up to the club and handed the keys to the valet, there was a solid blush on her cheeks. After all, she had spent the rest of the car ride looking at Oscar’ photos. 

She felt the bass of the music underneath her feet as she and her friend handed their ID’s to the bouncer, waiting as he checked their names off the list.

“Right let me find some virgin cocktail, you go find Oscar.”

“Absolutely not, I’m getting a drink first.”

When they reached the bar, they eyed up the drinks board, everything seemed so tempting. Starting easy she ordered herself a vodka coke. No point trying to talk to Oscar if she was sloshed. 

“Your replacement, 12 o’clock.” She heard her friend shout over her drink.

She turned around, subtly glancing in the direction her friend had pointed. There she was, the new girl — bright-eyed, smiling, and looking like she had the world at her feet. Her heart clenched for a moment, a tiny pang of something she didn’t want to name, but then she felt it ease just as quickly. It wasn’t jealousy; it was almost… nostalgia.

The girl was everything she remembered herself being — full of hope, dressed to impress, standing a little too close to him as if she needed to mark her territory. And there he was, Oscar, just as charming as ever. Leaning in, whispering something that made the girl laugh loudly, the kind of laugh that begged for attention.

Her friend nudged her side. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, swallowing a sip of her drink. “Just feeling pity, really.”

“Well,” her friend prompted, “you gonna say hi or what?”

She took a deep breath. “I think I’ll let them have their moment. Besides, I’m not in the mood to play the ex-girlfriend card tonight.”

Her friend snorted. “What, you don’t want to ruin their Instagram-perfect night?”

She grinned. “Tempting, but no.” She took another sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol begin to relax her nerves. “Let’s dance, yeah?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Grabbing her phone off the bar and shoving it down her bra, she took her friend’s hand and brought her to the middle of the dance floor, some Flo Rida song making the walls shake. 

Moving to the beat of the music, she looked as her friend began to dance on her, pulling her hand on her hip as they danced in sync enjoying the moment and ignoring the fact that she could see Lando looking at her and not his new girlfriend.

She felt the bass thump through her chest, each beat syncing with her pulse as she lost herself in the music. Her friend’s laughter was infectious, and she couldn’t help but grin, the tension in her shoulders easing as she swayed to the rhythm.

Lando’s gaze was heavy on her, almost burning through the crowd. She could feel it, a mix of curiosity and maybe a hint of regret. She didn’t look directly at him — not yet. Instead, she let her movements become more carefree, twirling with her friend and raising her arms in the air as the chorus hit. The whole room seemed to pulse with the beat, and she revelled in the feeling of letting go, if only for a moment.

Her friend leaned in, her voice barely audible over the music. “He’s staring,” she said with a sly smile.

She shrugged, flipping her hair back with a casual flick. “Let him,” she replied, her voice loud enough to be heard over the music but still cool and collected.

And then, on a whim, she spun around, facing him across the crowded room. Their eyes met, and she held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than she intended. His expression was unreadable — a mix of surprise, maybe a flicker of something else. But she didn’t want to decipher it; she didn’t care to.

Instead, she raised her drink in a mock toast, a sly smile playing at her lips, before turning her back to him again. She felt a surge of confidence, a quiet thrill in knowing she no longer needed his validation or attention. She was here to have fun, to enjoy the night, not to relive old memories or make a scene.

Her friend noticed the exchange and leaned in again. “You sure you don’t want to give him a piece of your mind?”

She laughed, a real, genuine laugh that felt good in her chest. “Nah, he can watch if he wants. It just shows he’s not as over it as I am.”

She turned her attention back to her friend, giving her a playful spin. “Anyway, I have a much hotter date.”

This time her friend laughed loudly, “Uh huh you do, I’ll go get us refills.”

“I’ll come with,” she offered, even though she was beginning to feel herself in the middle of the crowd.

“No, you just stay here.” Her friend gave her a final wink before disappearing into the crowd, leaving her alone on the dancefloor. The bass of the music pulsed through her, making her heart race in time with the beat. That’s when she spotted Oscar — tall, confident, with a warm smile that seemed to cut through the throng of people. He was one of the few people who had been genuinely kind to her since she’d met him, and there was a sense of magnetic energy between them.

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “May I have this dance?”

Without missing a beat, she placed her hand in his, feeling a thrill of excitement. They moved closer, the heat of their bodies melding together as the music swelled. He guided her into a slow, sensual dance, their movements smooth and synchronised. His hands rested lightly on her hips, and she could feel the tension of his touch, a mix of confidence and tenderness. Overlapping her hands on his, she tightened his grip on her hips.

As they danced, she felt a rush of freedom, the worries and old feelings from earlier dissolving into the rhythm. She glanced to her side and caught a glimpse of Lando across the room. He was watching them, his expression a mixture of surprise and frustration. For a moment, their eyes locked, and she saw the flash of jealousy in his gaze. She raised an eyebrow slightly, a smirk playing on her lips as if to say, “Look at me now.”

Returning her focus to the Oscar, she let herself be completely immersed in the moment. His touch was intoxicating, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her feel desired and cherished. They moved together effortlessly, each step and sway adding to the intimate connection they were building on the dancefloor.

Oscar leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “You look amazing tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “I mean you always have, but tonight things are different aren’t they?”

She shivered at his words, the tension between them palpable. She responded with a soft laugh, her fingers trailing up to his neck as she whispered back, “They are, aren’t they?”

As the song reached its climax, they pulled closer, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt both exhilarating and soothing. She let herself be lost in the sensation, feeling a newfound sense of liberation and sensuality. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own private dance.

The song ended, but they stayed close, their breaths mingling. “I’m going to the bathroom, but I’ll see you here for round two?” she said, trying to be heard over the music.

“I won’t go anywhere,” he replied with a teasing smile, his voice like velvet. She wanted to linger in his warmth a moment longer, but she knew she needed to regroup. The minute she snapped out of her trance, she found the bar and her friend, dragging her to the nearest bathroom.

Finding the handicap stall, she pulled them inside and slumped against the wall, grabbing her drink out of her friend’s hand.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice a mix of exhilaration and happiness.

“I am not Oscar, but I’m sure he would if you asked nicely,” her friend quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

She let out a tired laugh, shaking her head. “Not what I meant. I just… I don’t know. It’s weird being back in this place. Wow. That dance - I.”

Her friend gave her a knowing look. “At least give me a heads up if I’m going to drive home alone tonight.”

As she took another sip of her drink, she heard the bathroom door swing open, followed by the sound of animated giggling. It was Lando's new girlfriend, chattering excitedly with a friend. Her voice carried through the thin bathroom walls, brimming with admiration.

“Oh my god, he’s just so perfect!” she gushed. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. He’s got everything—charm, looks, and he’s so sweet. I feel like I’m in a dream.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. “Are you okay?”

Suppressing a laugh, she stood up and pushed open the door to the cubicle. As she emerged, she locked eyes with Lando’s new girlfriend in the mirror.

“Hey there,” she said, her voice smooth yet edged with cool detachment. “So, which version of him is perfect, the off-season version or the regular season?”

The new girlfriend blinked, visibly startled. Her smile faltered, and she looked momentarily confused. “Uh, I don’t really understand what you mean.”

She could sense her best friend trying hard not to laugh behind her. Shrugging lightly, she maintained a mix of sympathy and detachment in her gaze. “Just a thought. Sometimes people have different sides to them, you know? What you’re seeing now might not be the whole picture.”

Before the new girlfriend could respond, her friend besides her chimed in . “You’re just jealous.”

She turned, a knowing smile on her lips. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. After all, I had him first.” Without giving the new girlfriend a chance to reply, she gently but firmly guided her friend out of the bathroom and back into the club.

As they re-entered the lively atmosphere, her friend grinned at her. “That was hot.”

She chuckled, feeling a sense of empowerment and closure. “Glad you think so. Let’s enjoy the rest of the night.”

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[haveagarbageday]

The joy of missing out \\ Lando Norris

summary: You and Lando celebrate your birthday on the same day. While he's planning a big party, you'd rather spend the night on your own. Not like he's gonna let that happen…

additional info: Alpine!driver!reader. Have you heard "The joy of missing out" by AleXa? No? That's what I was listening to while writing this.

This year you didn’t feel like celebrating your birthday. You just wanted to stay under the warm blanket, binge-watching your favorite comfort show and eating pizza all day.

You weren’t really on speaking terms with your family after a stupid argument at a family gathering last year, and your old friends believed you changed a lot since you joined F1, so they weren’t exactly keen to spend time with you either, especially after you relocated to Monaco like so many of the drivers did. This left you getting more and more comfortable with the idea of being alone, spending your limited free time in your apartment instead of attending parties you were invited to.

On the most recent race weekend though, Lando and Oscar caught you in the paddock and the three of you started chatting, soon being joined by other drivers, and the conversation shifted to Lando’s upcoming birthday. They were planning on partying together, even now they were talking about who would bring who, if they should spend the night at the same place, or move around, maybe heading to the place of one of them.

It was only after a good ten minutes that something dawned on Lando. “Wait, your birthday is on the same day,” he told you, the little light bulb above his head almost visible. “That’s great! You should invite your friends too!” The Brit got excited at the thought, but when he noticed you were just shaking your head, he could tell you would say no to the whole thing. “You’re not planning on missing out, are you?”

As you let out an annoyed groan, the others began to try and convince you, saying it was great that they could celebrate not one, but two birthdays that year, and you were like everyone’s little sister, you were practically family, so this party was mandatory for you. Last year you missed it because you were with your family and friends back home, spending time with them as you usually did when you had the time, but this year it was an open secret that you’d rather retreat into your shell after race weekends.

“Guys, I just… don’t feel like celebrating, that’s all. You all have fun, but you can count me out,” you told them, then said goodbye and decided to go back to the Alpine motorhome to be alone for a while.

Halfway there, you suddenly felt someone put an arm around your shoulder, making you come to a halt to see who it was. You were met by Lando’s shining eyes, the mischievous smile telling you he was here to try and convince you to join them. But instead of giving you a speech full of reasons why you should join them, he decided to start with something else, something a lot more personal.

“Look, I can tell something is wrong. What happened? Last year you spent so much time with your family, your friends, and even with us. Now? Now I can see you getting cozy at your place, ignoring everyone until it’s absolutely necessary to be around people. I’m worried,” he added, and the look in his eyes told you he was telling the truth.

“I’m fine, trust me.” But Lando didn’t buy it, he just rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow, expecting you to finally be honest with him. “My relationships are dying, because apparently, I changed too much since I’ve been here. Why bother?”

Without a proper warning, Lando pulled you into a hug, his chin resting on your shoulder while you relaxed in his arms. It surprised you, but didn’t feel all that bad, to be honest. You’d been craving physical contact for months now, after all. “The party wouldn’t be the same without you. And I was planning to do so much, like getting you to be stuck to me the whole night, dancing together, drinking together, maybe letting me kiss you,” he finished as he pulled back to look at you with a wolfish grin.

To kiss you? That’s what he wanted? It would be a lie if you said you hadn’t thought about this, because there were times when you wished he would do that, but you usually got rid of these thoughts quite fast. It would complicate things, and complication was something you didn’t need in your life now. But God, he was so handsome, and so cute, and so–

Your train of thought was interrupted when you felt his lips on yours, moving slowly to see how you would react, waiting for the opportunity to truly get lost in it. And when you kissed him back, he moved his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair, moaning softly into the kiss. The world around you ceased to exist, and you just enjoyed the moment, completely forgetting that the paddock was full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to take photos of the two of you.

When he finally pulled away to breathe, you gulped and watched him with uncertainty. Was he just playing with you? Or was he serious about this? Oh, why couldn’t he see you as a sister like the rest of the drivers did?

“So, I believe you’re coming to the party,” he spoke up with a smile. “The birthday boy is dying to spend the evening kissing the birthday girl. Maybe even sneaking away to have some fun in private,” he added before giving you a quick kiss again.

“Have some fun in private?”

With a wide grin on his face, Lando leaned closer to whisper the answer in your ear. “I have a special surprise for you. You’ll love it,” he told you in a sultry voice that made you gulp.

Well, it was safe to say he was probably several steps ahead of you in this.

[mandarinmoons]

What about Reid with a ballerina spouse (gn or fem) I don’t really have any idea for it other than Spencer has kept the relationship a secret from the team but they’ve been kind of suspicious and find out some how? Maybe the kind of spy on him and see him going into one of her shows and at the end of the show they see him kissing her or something

“I gotta get going guys, see you all tomorrow!”

“Wait wait, hold on now. What’s got you in such a hurry?”

Derek watched as Spencer quickly put away the files on his desk and threw his satchel over his shoulder, he seemed awfully eager to leave.

“Oh uh… The library’s closing earlier than usual today and there’s this one book I really want to read, so gotta go before it closes. Bye!”

Spencer strode off leaving the rest of the team very confused. They noticed that Spencer’s been leaving earlier than usual and he always had a different excuse.

“I have a dentist appointment.”

“I have to go and get more postage stamps before the post office closes.”

He had used nearly every excuse in the book and knowing his brain capacity, he’d probably never run out of them.

“Penelope, can you-”

“Already on it my love and… it’s false, he’s definitely hiding something.”

“Anybody up for a stake out?”

Derek and Penelope turned their heads at Emily, both of their eyebrows knitted together at the suggestion thrown out.

“Prentiss, you’re serious?”

“C’mon, aren’t you curious? Reid’s never one to shy away from talking about something.”

“That is true.”

“Oh, c’mon Derek! We’ll be super discreet! We can even dress in all black and be like spies!”

Derek turned his head at Penelope and chuckled over the excitement he saw in Penelope’s eyes.

“Garcia, we're the FBI.”

“I know, but I’ve always loved those spy sequences in movies.”

Both Emily and Derek laughed at Penelope’s excitement over the idea of having a stakeout over one of their friends. It really wasn’t like Spencer to not tell them about something, everyone on the team was like a family and they were usually some of the first people on the know about big news.

A couple of hours later after Penelope managed to track down Spencer’s location through his phone, the team were surprised when they ended up at a theater.

Looking around the area, they spotted a poster for the upcoming show that was set to start in 10 minutes, the show in question? A performance of Swan Lake.

“Why would Spencer come to see a ballet performance?”

“I think I know why.”

Turning their heads, Emily and Derek look over to Penelope and see her motion to Spencer and an unfamiliar woman with him. The two of them seem to be talking and laughing, but not in just a friendly manner. Spencer’s hand held onto the woman’s lightly and his thumb brushed over her knuckles, a sign of something more than just friendship. The woman seemed to get called to get into her position, but before she turned to leave she pressed a quick kiss to Spencer’s lips and hurried off, leaving Spencer smiling like a fool.

“My man.”

Spencer jumped in his shoes when he heard Derek’s voice. He turned around and saw the grinning faces of his coworkers walking over to him.

“What’re you guys doing here?”

“We had some suspicions, so we bit the bullet and decided to check up on you.”

“And by “check up” you mean follow me?”

The three of them looked at each other, slightly embarrassed at their decision, but were met with Spencer chuckling a moment later.

“You guys are impossible.”

“So who was that pretty lady?”

“Y/N, we met at a coffee shop a few months ago and we’ve been on a few dates. It’s been going pretty well.”

“And she’s a ballerina?”

“Yeah, she’s amazing! I’ve seen her rehearse and this is the second show of hers I’m seeing.”

“If she’s really that good then we gotta see it.”

Penelope flew to buy the tickets, clearly very excited to see the new talent perform. As they all got to their seats and the lighting dimmed, everyone watched the performance with excitement, waiting for your turn.

When the performance ended, you were surprised to see a group of people following Spencer along. One of the ladies, who seemed very eager, walked up to you and gushed about the performance you put on.

“You were so graceful! I haven't seen such light movement in, well, ever!”

The woman’s compliments, who’s name turned out to be Penelope as you made out from the rest of the guests, went straight to your heart.

The other visitors, whose names were Emily and Derek, complimented you on your performance as well, but all your attention was on the man behind them who had an adoring smile on his face, one that was clearly directed at you.

“I wasn’t aware Spencer invited you along.”

“He didn’t. We got curious because he’s been a bit suspicious lately and had to see what was causing it.”

“I mean I knew you all worked for the FBI but I didn’t know you were that nosey.”

Everyone laughed at the comment which made you feel a bit more welcomed along with them.

“What can we say, some things you just can’t help but be curious about.”

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[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ 603 ; lh43

➪ summary: luke's main goal is to make sure y/n is taken care of, however it's hard for him to do it 603 miles away

➪ warnings: reader overworks herself, school, stress

➪ word count: 2.5k

➪ cupid's notes: i’ve been in a like mood so i decided to get this one out tonight!! ill post a connor blurb tomorrow morning/afternoon and a nico fic tomorrow. more of a schedule release tomorrow probably for the next two weeks

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

She expected this to happen, the pounding in her head, the 20 tabs open on her computer, the dozens of resource articles and research strewn about in her room, the five packets of review guides sitting in a stack on her desk, the half drank cup of coffee, and the tears springing in her eyes. The earbuds in her ears played nothing and the sensation began to irritate her, practically ripping them from her ears and throwing them across the room to somewhere she wouldn’t be able to find again. 

She could hear voices in the living room, just outside her closed bedroom door. They were laughing about something, what it was she had no idea. Her three roommates all had presentations tomorrow and that was it, no more studying, no more writing, they were done. She, however, still had three papers to write and two exams to take. She had regretted her decision to take this many classes this semester but she was preparing herself for her future.

She had gone to stand up, feeling dizzy immediately as her feet planted flat on the floor. She held a hand to the wall, bracing herself from toppling over. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurry sight of tears, dehydration, and lack of nutrition. She knew people would be worried about her if they were to see her like this, her hair matted and pulled into a bun as best as she could, and mascara dried on her face that highlighted the dark circles and bags under her eyes. She was wearing Luke’s sweatshirt, the Devils logo plastered over it in the center, mocking her, reminding her that her boyfriend was 603 miles away from her.

At the thought, she allowed herself to tear up more, letting tear after tear fall. There wasn’t much she could do, he was in the middle of a game right now. When she realized he had a game, she turned it on and watched with a soft smile whenever he would show up on the TV. Despite knowing the fact that he would not answer his phone, she called him, hoping to just hear his voice through his voicemail. 

When his voice reached her ears, she could feel some of the tension release from her body. However, the feeling was short-lived as the beep from the end of his voicemail was heard. She didn’t leave a message, she just hung up and watched the remainder of the second period. When the horn blarred in the arena and through the tv speakers, she shut off the screen and returned to work, making her head hurt more. 

She didn’t notice the multiple attempts Luke had made to call her, her phone having died 20 minutes prior when she was writing her essay. She had put her headphones on, canceling most noise from the apartment. She had been ripping off post-it notes after post-it notes, scrambling to write down as many ideas as her brain could process. 

Meanwhile, Luke had been minorly, no majorly, freaking out. She would never call him if he was at a game, not even if it was super important. He could feel himself start to sweat again as he rushed to put his suit jacket on, wiggling his feet into his shoes. He had gone home by himself, not feeling the need to celebrate when his girl could be suffocating 603 miles away from him. 

Ever since they’ve known each other, Luke has known about y/n’s tendencies to throw herself into her school work. He remembers the first time he saw her during exam season. It was the end of their freshman fall term, they had been dating for four months at the time. They had just gotten back from their games in Ohio, he was exhausted from the trip and their 6-1 loss following their win the previous day. All he had wanted to do was go over to her dorm and lay in bed with her. 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer but nothing came. He felt saddened and knocked again. He received the same answer, none. He turned around and slid down the wood door, hitting the ground with a thud. He put his hands on his head as he waited, kicking his bag to the side. It was only then he heard the footsteps come rushing down the hallway and looked up to see her. She had her backpack that looked as if it weighed 10 pounds, she was clutching five books in her arms and a coffee cup rested on top of them. She had been mumbling when she noticed him and her eyes lit up, “Hi!”

“Hi pretty girl, whatcha doing?”

“Studying.”

He looked at the way her eyes were hidden by the circles underneath them and frowned. He reached out to grab the books from her grasp and she gratefully accepted the offer, going straight to dig the keys out of her bag, “How were the games? Did you guys win?”

He felt heartbroken and confused, she always watched his games when they went away. She would always be the one to point out his goal or an assist that he got, sometimes she even pointed out if Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, or even Owen got a goal. He watched as she pushed the door open, removing her hand from her side to run it through her hair, “You didn’t watch?”

She turned to him, dropping her bag on the ground and reaching out for her books, “No, I was studying. Sorry, Lu.”

Studying? At that time? He did nothing but let her take the books, watching as she started to clean up her dorm. It was only then that he had noticed the state her dorm was in. There were empty boxes scattering the floor, paper plates and bowls on any surface possible, and some of her clothes were mixed in with her roommate’s, it was a mess, to say the least. He made no effort to say anything about it, though. 

She cleaned as much as she could in a matter of five minutes, looking at him with a small smile on her face, “I’m sorry I didn’t watch. I was going to watch the highlights when I got back tonight.”

“Back from?”

“Library. I think I’m starting to become a regular for everyone who works there.”

The thought of her being a regular was somewhat concerning to him, “How often have you been going?”

His voice was a mixture of stern and worried, his eyes somewhat squinted in a glare. She looked as if she had committed a crime at the tone of his voice, “Every day… from the time class was over until they closed.”

His eyes widened, “Jesus y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to study. I need to do well.”

“I understand that but you can’t work yourself to the brink of death.” He grabbed the coffee out of her hand and emptied it into the sink, getting rid of the cup afterward.

She whined at the motion, watching him in horror as if he just hit a bird with his car. He walked back over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Tomorrow you are not going to touch a single book, I won’t even let you touch your computer.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh, nope. No computer, no books, no papers, no anything school-related. We are going to stay in your bed and watch movies all day and eat properly.”

“I eat properly!” She exclaimed in offense.

He gave her a look that said all the different, “Sure. Now I can only hope you still have some of my clothes here somewhere because I do not want to talk to my dorm right now.”

She pointed in embarrassment to one of her drawers, “In there.”

He kissed her forehead and grabbed the clothes before heading for the bathroom, “I’ll be back and I better not see you do any work when I get back.”

She nodded but as soon as he left she ran to her backpack and grabbed her computer. She rushed to finish the last two paragraphs of her essay before he got back but luck was not on her side as she was halfway through her last paragraph and the doorknob turned. She had been so focused on writing that she didn’t care that he entered, “Just let me finish my last paragraph.”

He sighed, dropping his clothes into her laundry basket. He walked back to her bed and looked at her, “Last paragraph?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and scooted over so Luke could sit next to her, “Fine. I don’t want you to lose your train of thought.”

She beamed up at him and kissed his cheek before returning to her work.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

Ever since then, he had been careful with how much he left her alone in exam season. He always called on road trips, always went to the library with her to make sure she didn’t overwork herself, always made sure she was eating properly and always made sure that she was okay. But now being 603 miles it was hard to do that for her. 

Luke was packing a bag as fast as he could, looking at his laptop for the earliest flight out of there which wasn’t until early the next morning, leaving at 7 and not arriving until 9. Then he would have to wait to get a car and do a 30-minute drive to Ann Arbor. He groaned at the time and went to throw something, at that point he could drive there and be there before getting a plane but he was in no state to drive. 

He continued to try and call her for 30 minutes, on the brink of giving up at that point. Her phone was still dead and she had yet to realize it. She had music playing through her earbuds attached to her computer, typing about something that she considered stupid and unnecessary. She only took breaks to take a sip of coffee or to groan and throw her head back in exhaustion and frustration. 

Luke threw his phone on the bed, running his hands down his face, falling asleep not even five minutes later. Y/n was the same way, she closed her laptop as she finished her last sentence, finally allowing herself to take a break. She got up to go make a burrito in the kitchen, waving to her friends who were also still awake at the time. 

She went to turn her phone on and that was when she realized the lack of battery it had. She shrugged it off and put it down on her nightstand before walking back out to eat and finish watching the movie with her roommates.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

She didn’t go to bed until almost three in the morning despite finishing the movie four hours ago. Once they finished, she looked at the piles of paper and study guides she still had to do and sighed. Deciding that her first class wasn’t until noon, she could easily get done with one or two study guides or an essay in three. 

She curled up on her bed when she was done and wrapped the blankets around her tightly. When she woke up and went to look at her phone and saw a tweet from Amanda from an hour ago, “Luke is not at morning practice due to personal reasons. Should expect him back for Saturday’s game in Columbus.”

She immediately woke up at the fact, looking back at her other notifications. There must’ve been at least a dozen missed calls from Luke and 15 text messages. She could only think about the worst, if he had gotten hurt but just didn’t want to tell someone, if he had been so drunk that he couldn’t think straight, if he had a panic attack last night. Her thoughts raced but halted when there was a knock on the door.

She went out to the living room, still clad in her sweats from the previous night. Her friends must’ve either already left or were still sleeping. She walked to the door, peeking through the peephole and gasping. She all but ripped the door open, “Lukey?”

He smiled when he saw her, immediately feeling better. Her eyes were still the same from the first time he had experienced her like this and he knew there would probably be a coffee pot brewing in the next few minutes, but he was here now and that was a wave of relief, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls and I know you were studying last night so you probably wouldn’t have answered them anyway. But when I saw you called during the game I got worried because you never call. And I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you weren’t overworking yourself but I can tell that you are.”

She frowned at his words but also felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him flying out just because he wanted to ensure she was okay. She stepped aside to let him in and then led him to her bedroom. It was cleaner than what he had witnessed in the past years.

“You can’t just fly out every time you think I’m overworking myself, Luke.”

“I know but I wasn’t thinking. I was worried, really worried.” He held her hand, playing with her fingers as a form of comfort, “How long were you up to last night?”

She hesitated before responding, “3…”

He only sighed and tugged her closer to the bed so they could lay down, “Luke I have class in two hours.”

“I know but just for a little bit, and then I’ll take you to class.”

“You still know you’re way around campus?”

“Did I ever know my way around campus?”

She shook her head and laughed, “No.”

He smiled at her laugh, “You do realize I’m only going to be allowing you to rest while I’m here right?”

“But I have one more essay to finish.”

He glared at her, “Fine, but after that, you are going to be right here, in my arms, and not thinking about school at all.”

“Deal.” He kissed her before allowing her to get up and get ready for class. They both walked on campus to her class with the same thought, grateful that Luke had come to see her. Even with being 603 miles away from each other, they would do anything to be there for one another.

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