#THE LAST SCENE IN SPACE OH MY GOD TURNING OUT

[thewhizzyhead]

AJR'S THE MAYBE MAN ALBUM OUT ON NOV 3RD AJR'S THE MAYBE MAN ALBUM OUT ON NOV 3RD AJR'S THE MAYBE MAN-

[on-the-clear-blue]

Tim walking into the dining room: Oh B, i just realized, happy 5 years sober, I am really proud of you.

Bruce, small smile and sipping his tea: Thank you Tim.

Dick, looking up confused from his bowl of cereal: What? Sober? Weren't you drinking last night at the gala?

Bruce, brows furrowed: Not from alcohol, Chum.

Tim, after downing his cup of coffee: Damn you didn't know? It was cocain. B was on that booger sugar.

Bruce, making a face: Please, never call it that again.

Dick, after his brain rebooted: You...you did cocain?

Bruce sighing :Yes I did...I though you knew.

Dick, abandoning his bowl of cereal: No, no I very much didn't! How did you...like get into that?

Tim: Dick take it down a notch, please? Bruce has been clean for years.

Bruce, shaking his head: It's fine Tim, I should have been more up front with this to the others.

Dick, with his head tilted and still a bit upset: Others? You mean only Tim knew?

Bruce, nodding: He caught me taking a key from one of Penguins supply when he was Robin and forced me to confess, I went to rehab a week later.

Dick, sitting back down in a stupor: Wait...You mean the thing when you were gone for like a few months? I thought you were on a deep space mission with the league! Hell, Uncle Clark even said so!

Bruce, wincing: Y-Yes...I was in a treatment center in Sweden...Tim found them and signed me up without telling me, and had Clark take me there...

Bruce side eyeing Tim: Took my Kryptonite before doing so...and my stash.

Tim, unapologetic, shrugging: Mom used the same place when she was getting off of Quaaludes.

Bruce, shrunching his nose: Never did like downers, made it harder to think.

Dick, having a mental breakdown: So you just...did drugs? For like a while? When did this even start?

Bruce, silent for a while, moving his breakfast around for a moment: It started when I was about...16? When I was in the club scene for a bit I got wild, taking pills and such that I didn't need, it was the 80s, blow was all the rage with the youth in higher circles and...well one thing lead to another and I got hooked.

Dick, holding his head in his hands: Oh my God...Wait.. Were you actively doing drugs when you adopted me???

Bruce, groaning: Yes...Didn't it ever seem strange that sometimes I was very lively and then suddenly was practically dead an hour later before getting back to lively?

Dick, horror coming across his face: Oh my God the signs...

Tim, chuckling: B was a God damn drug fiend, practically snorted half of Columbia.

Bruce, looking scandalized: Tim! I was not that bad...

Tim staring at Bruce:

Bruce staring back:

Bruce, sighing: Fine yes it was that bad.

Dick: uninhorant screeching

Bruce, tsking: I quit a few years after taking you in Chum, I only relapsed when Jason...temporarily passed...and that was only for at most a year, Tim found me out, sent me to rehab and while I have had a few scares, I have been sober for years.

Dick: Happy for you, really but holy fuck.

Tim, snorting: It wasn't the first time I caught you B, imagine little old 10 year old me following Batman and Robin and stumbling across the Dark Knight of Gotham doing a line on a gargoyle while Robin beat the shit out of the dealers below.

Dick, agape: Really Bruce? Do you even remember that?

Bruce, Blushing: i...may have done that more than once...

Dick, crying on the inside: BRUCE?!

Jason, walking in with a smoothie: Oh what are we yelling at B for? I want in.

Dick, wildly pointing at Bruce: BATMAN DID COCAIN.

Jason, slowly taking a drag from his smoothie, before turning to Bruce: w h a t?

Bruce, hiding his face in his hands, sullenly: I trained you all better than this. Yes I did drugs, I am 5 years sober.

Jason, softly putting his smoothie down before walking over to Bruce and patting his shoulder: Proud of you for that, like actually good job, holy shit that is hard. But also WHAT THE FUCK.

Bruce, sighing hard: I thought you all knew...

Jason flopping down in a chair, counting on his fingers: Wait a God damn minute, you got on my case for smoking while doing cocain!

Bruce, dead panned: it's a gate way to much harder things.

Jason, squinting: Who are you D.A.R.E?

Tim, cackling: he was! Did a whole speech about it! Full Batman regalia and was talking about how weed is bad!

Bruce glaring lightly at Tim: It is! It can cause lung damage, a build up of black tar in the lungs and can dull your mind when you are in a tike of crisis!

Jason, rolling his eyes: B, Shut the fuck up you did cocain.

Bruce, sighing yet again: You really are not letting that go are you...

Tim, sipping his coffee: Think of it like this, there is a reason B was able to get back to fighting like a week after Bane broke his back.

Bruce, pursing his lips,: Not the time Tim.

Tim, grinning evilly: Oh no, it is very much the time, I have been waiting till the others knew...I have so many blackmail stories....and pictures

Bruce, a look of true fear on his face: Oh God no...

[bluetimeombre]

・❥ ‘Are you Hugh down under?’

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[not proof-read, some sexual innuendo, just Hugh being hot af]

part two

You and Hugh Jackman being in love for twenty-five minutes (part one)

Puppy interview

Did you take any props home with you?

'Yea, I took Hugh home,' you said, letting a puppy climb over you and onto your shoulders as Hugh laughed. 'In his suit as well.'

'In the suit,' he said, stroking the puppy in his lap.

'Yep. Great in the house, goes with all my furniture. He's well trained.'

Hugh nodded, enthusiastically. 'I'm not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other ways.'

You raise your brows and the crew laugh. 'I want to know what the other ways are now.' You smirk.

Hugh smirked back, shrugging his shoulders as he held up the puppy. 'Well, maybe you'll find out.'

What was your favourite scene to film?

'Any scene with the incredible talent sitting next to me,' Hugh started. 'Every scene was such fun and never felt like work when I got to work with her. I've never had so much fun playing a character. The whole movie at first, you know, the idea was up in the air for me about coming back but just to get the chance to work with such a talent- an honour and a privilege and I can't wait to do it again.'

Your lips pout into a smile as you listen to him. You focused on Hugh as he smiled at you. 'My favourite scene to film was when I touched his abs.'

He laughed.

'No, seriously it's been a dream of mine to work with Hugh and I can't talk about it too much cause I'd probably get emotional and that'd be embarrassing. I've grown an emotional attachment to him now,; you added.

Hugh looked around at all of the puppies. 'Is there more puppies here than usual?'

'Oh yea, there's more!'

'Someone's been making out,' said Hugh.

'Not us,' you said, leaning over.

He laughed. God, he was always laughing with you.

With Alison Hammond

The two of you sat next to each other, legs bumping into each other repeatedly to tease each other. At times you'd just throw your leg over his thigh and he'd bounce his leg. (Fans ate it up)

'Alright you two,' said Alison.

'Sorry,' you laugh. 'He's taking up too much space.'

'The Wolverine spread,' he said.

You laughed.

Alison gave her a loud laugh. 'Well, is it true, Hugh?' she asked. 'Are you huge down under?'

The three of you laughed, rocking back and forth and hitting your knees.

'I started the rumour,' you said. 'So, take that as you will.'

Hugh showed Alison his shoe as she fanned herself off.

You took another card she offered you and fanned yourself off as Hugh sat back, throwing his arms behind his head.

'So, we should probably talk about the film,' said Alison.

'Let's just talk about Hugh,' you said, leaning back just like he was. 'Ever won an Oscar, Hugh?'

He pulled a straight face at you.

'Now, can I say, Y/N, this is a bit awkward as usually it's just me and Hugh. Last time we had a date, so I've brought champagne, but only two glasses,’ she pulled off the cover that showed off the bucket.

'I'll take the bottle,' you said, reaching over the two of them. 'I can leave you guys, don't worry.'

Hugh grabbed your arm as you tried to leave. 'No, no, you can be our mediator.'

'Your intimacy coordinator more like,' you said as Alison laughed. 'I've seen how these interviews go Alison, I've never had Hugh feed me chocolates.'

Hugh reached over the table as Alison talked about 'a throuple' and he opened the box of chocolates, throwing away the thin layer of film covering them with his teeth. You only realised what was going on seconds before he fed you chocolate from his mouth. You tried to stay calm the closer you got and took the chocolate, chewing down happily.

'Feel like I'm interrupting something,' said Alison.

You stole the box from Hugh. 'Your turn, Alison!'

'So how tough was it working with Hugh, Y/N?'

You slapped your thighs dramatically. 'The toughest ever. You know sometimes I'd actually have to look at his face and I mean, have you seen this-' you frame his face, holding his chin. 'How can I work with this?'

He stuck his tongue out.

(Almost this whole interview was the two of you flirting)

Hot one's interview

'You're watching hot ones. It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we're joined by Y/N and Hugh Jackman, the stars of Wolverine and Ladypool.'

'I only let Wolverine come first so we could use the greatest showman in the movie,' you said. 'For Hugh.'

First wing and first question.

You and Hugh cheers with Sean before taking a bite. You nod, 'Good wing, subtle, nice.' You went in for another bite, surprising them.

'Oh, you're going for another bite,' said Hugh, eyes watching your lips (comments couldn't let it go).

'Yeah, I like things hot,' you tell him, giving him a dramatic wink.

'What was the movie that you watched of each other that made you realise you needed to work with each other?' asked Sean.

'As soon as I saw the first Ladypool,' said Hugh. 'I knew these two characters had to be together on screen. I was like these two characters had to be together and I'd literally announced my retirement three days before.'

'Mine was probably when I saw the first ten minutes of Australia,' you said, referring the first ten minutes in which he turns up shirtless and sweaty. 'Knew I needed to see it real-time.'

Hugh huffed out a laugh.

'Or Logan. That was, a masterpiece of a film.'

The next couple wings went down well, getting through the questions. It was the fifth when things started to get heated.

'Yep, that's a step up,' said Hugh as he went for the milk.

'Can you recall the most takes you've had to do for a scene requested by a director?' asked Sean.

'Our steamy scene in the car had quite a few takes,' you said, Hugh agreeing with a nod. 'Kept messing up, you see,' you said, winking.

'That was a difficult scene,' said Hugh.

'Why cause you had to kiss me?'

Hugh shook his head. 'That was the easiest part, I'm laughing, I'm not crying cause of the heat. But doing some of those... positions we had to do in the car, it was hard to work around.'

'I got cramp in my leg.'

He laughed loudly at the memory.

The next wing messed the two of you up, the heat creating sweat. All Hugh could do was laugh and you laughed at him as he went red.

'Look, look at this!' Hugh puts his arm up, showing his bicep.

'What am I looking at? Your raging muscles?' you ask, looking closer.

'No, the sweat.'

'Oh, sorry I was distracted.'

On the next wing, Hugh repeated he took too big a bite, how it was too big and all you had to do was give him a look with raised brows.

You and Hugh take a lie detector test

First hooked up was Hugh, you watched in glee as ties were wrapped around him.

'This is a new kink,' you said, smiling all too widely as Hugh laughed at you.

You started by asking him some simple questions that were easy answers, like his name and where he was born. 'Are you really Australian?'

'Yes.'

You looked to Louis. 'Tell me it's a lie.'

'Truth.'

'This Australian bit has got so far,' you say.

'You love it,' he said.

'We'll find out when I'm hooked up.'

'How you seen all my movies?' you asked.

He thought for a moment. 'No.'

'Deceptive.'

The two of you looked at each other with amused looks and big eyes. 'You can tell me you've seen them all, you can be a fan, I don't mind.'

He shrugged. 'Maybe I have.'

'You're a fan it's fine.'

'I'm wearing my I heart Y/N underpants today,' he said.

You looked wide-eyed and hopeful at Louis.

'Deceptive.'

You cheer.

'In 2008 you were said to be the sexiest man alive-'

'Said to be,' he scoffed. 'Pretty sure the right word is elected.'

'The question is how many copies of the magazine do you have?' you asked.

'How many do you have?' he threw back.

'I'm not the one on the fucking monitor right now.'

'A standard of fourteen hundred?'

'Is there any more to life than being really, really, really, really, really ridiculously good looking?' you ask, leaning back in your chair. 'That's not on the cards, I just want to know.'

'No.'

'Truthful.'

The two of you cackle. After a couple more questions it was your turn to swap. Hugh took delight in seeing you get tied up.

'Starting to sweat a bit,' you said. 'This really is scary.'

'Yea.'

Again, Hugh started off with some simple questions.

'Last one,' he said. 'Are you single?'

You pulled a straight face as he turned red and watched you. 'Yes, I am. Thank you for reminding me of that fact, Hugh.'

He shook his head. 'Don't worry, we can change that, we can change that.'

'Only if you're offering, bub,' you tease.

'Would you rather have had an Andrew Garfield Spider-man team up than Wolverine?' he asked.

Your jaw dropped as he showed you the question on the card. 'That's not fair I love spiderman and Andrew.'

'But do you love him more than Wolverine?' asked Hugh, feigning seriousness. He waited as you thought about it, head in his hand.

'True,' you said.

'That's a lie.'

'Ha!' Hugh shouted.

'I've shocked myself, man, I must really fancy you,' you said.

Hugh slid over a paper, showing you a picture of Channing Tatum. 'Do you think he would make a good Gambit?'

You try to act cool, he was already in the movie and Hugh knew it. 'Yes, I think he would. It's a shame his movie wasn't made. I feel bad for the guy.'

'Truthful.'

You pick up the picture. 'I love this guy, he's a great guy,' you stare down at the picture, 'He'd made a great Wolverine. I mean, I'm just getting lost in his eyes right now, looking at him.'

Hugh reached over. 'Ok, enough of that,' he took the picture and ripped it up, chucking it behind him.

You and Hugh at the premier

The camera snapped shots of the two of you wearing each other's colours. You were wearing a shimmering golden outfit while Hugh wore red. You had agreed to swap.

The two of you took pictures together, his arm wrapped around your waist, yours going between reaching up to hold his shoulder or holding his hands. You didn't stop for many interviews together, but you spoke a lot on the carpet. That tiktoker, the one good at reading lips had a field day on tiktok when she worked it all out.

Hugh: 'You look great in yellow, you know.'

You: 'You should see the colour of what I'm wearing under here.'

Hugh smirked and laughed. 'You look beautiful tonight.'

It was your turn to blush and tug him along the carpet.

[freeabortionslol]

first day at the lake house (lake house gc x reader fic) feat. jack hughes, luke hughes, quinn hughes, trevor zegras, cole caufield ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

summary: !!this stems from the lake house group chat so if you haven't read those you should!! reader is apart of the lake house friend group, flirtatious with each boy, this fic is pretty crucial to the plot I can't lie, i put in a lot of comedic moments (bc ik y'all love those), TENSIONNN, a little bit of angst towards the end, each guy has their own nickname for her (ex. babe, sunshine, princess, sunny, and bunny) warnings!! cursing, angst, i only proofread once (I think that's it) a/n: ahhhh!!! finally the FIRST lake house fic (I say first bc I cannot wait to write more of these). this one is pretty long which I did by accident so bare w me. please keep sending suggestions they're so fun to read!! quinn & jack lovers, this fic is for you. love u lots <3 wc: 11.4k lake house series masterlist

The harsh Michigan sun slipped through the thin curtains of the lake house, waking you in almost an instant. You grabbed the dark throw blanket off the ground, covering your face to shield your eyes. You shuffled, trying to settle in more carefully on the half deflated air mattress so you could get just five more minutes. You maybe got two hours of sleep last night, being kept awake by Trevor’s snoring from the bed above. Several times throughout the night, Cole got frustrated with his snoring and kicked him. Trevor kicked him right back, sending Cole straight down to your mattress. He never landed directly on top of you as you chose to sleep as far away from the boys as possible, but he did come close. It happened four times (yes you counted) throughout the night, deflating your mattress little by little each time Cole’s body was thrown down. You closed your eyes, balling your body up under the blanket as you quickly let yourself drift back to sleep.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Cole groaned sleepily at Trevor who was too deep into his slumber to hear. You heard the shuffle of Cole’s foot reaching to kick Trevor, rolling your eyes at what was about to happen. You pulled the blanket from off your head, moving over to the side to give Cole some space to land. Just five seconds later, Cole let out a slight scream, falling right next to you on the air mattress. You turned to look at him, anger evident in your eyes as he made himself comfortable on your makeshift bed. You quickly grabbed the pillow your head was lying on to hit him square in the face. 

“Ow! Trev-” He paused, opening his eyes which softened at the sight of you, even if you were furious. “Oh. Hey, baby.” He said with a soft smile, letting his eyes shut again as he reached his arm around to pull you close to him.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, scooching closer to the edge of the mattress as you sat yourself up straight. “Don’t ‘hey baby’ me!” You groaned, your mind still not fully awake. “You assholes kept me up all night!” Cole kept his eyes shut, nodding his head as he listened to your incoherent words. 

“Should’ve just slept down here with you.” He mumbled through his sleepy state, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you down. You scoffed, moving out of his grasp to stand next to the mattress. You crossed your arms, looking at Trevor who had his whole body splayed across the bed, then down at Cole whose smaller frame still managed to take over your territory. Somehow, the two boys were able to continue their sleep, even with the bright light shining through the window. You stared down at the scene before you, shaking your head in disbelief. It was like babysitting two toddlers who had somehow gained the bodies of grown men. Cole was already softly snoring again, his arm flung over the edge of the deflated air mattress where you had been moments before. Trevor, meanwhile, let out a particularly loud snore, causing him to twitch and sprawl even further across the bed above. You picked up a pillow from off the ground, throwing it at Trevor whose body didn’t even flinch at the action. You took one last look at the boys before huffing out your breath and exiting the room. You walked down the hallway, your legs wobbling slightly through your sleepy state. You were pissed when you found out you’d have to share a room with Trevor and Cole this trip. Normally it was Jack who shared with the two of them in his room, but he decided this year he wanted to “Bunk alone. For the greater good, you know?” whatever that means. The spare bedroom where you slept every year (alone might I add) had been quickly invaded by the two most testosterone filled creatures you knew, and you were not happy in the slightest. The lake house had always been your escape, but this year it felt more like torture. You made your way down the stairs, hair messy, voice groggy as Luke’s Michigan t-shirt fell slightly past your athletic shorts. You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass to pour yourself some water. 

“Mornin’” You heard a low voice hum through the quiet of the kitchen. You turned your head slowly, seeing Quinn walking down the stairs to the kitchen. His hair was ruffled messily in his face while the neckline of his t-shirt hung low. You tried your best to send him a smile as you continued to fill your glass at the fridge dispenser. He walked closer, placing a hand on your lower back as he shuffled behind you to get to the pantry which sent a quick shiver down your spine. 

“Morning,” you mumbled back, your voice still heavy with exhaustion as you sipped your water. The cool liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to fix the throbbing headache that lingered from your sleepless night.

Quinn grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry, his movements slow and deliberate, clearly still half-asleep himself. “Rough night?” he asked, his tone light but laced with understanding.

You let out a bitter laugh, rubbing your hands against your face. “Rough doesn’t begin to cover it.” You said, leaning against the counter as you looked at him. “Trevor snored all night, and every time he snored, Cole would kick him. Then, Trevor would kick Cole back, sending him flying down to my mattress.” Quinn’s face cringed up as you spoke. “Four motherfuckin’ times. And each time, my mattress deflated just a little more.” 

Quinn chuckled softly, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Sounds about right. I told Jack you’d kill him for sticking you with those two.”

“Oh, I’m definitely killing him,” you replied, crossing your arms. “This lake house is supposed to be my sanctuary, not…whatever that was.” You gestured toward the ceiling, as if the chaos of the night was still lingering above you. 

Quinn smirked, grabbing the milk from the fridge and shaking his head. “Jack probably thought it’d be funny. He’s always been the king of passing off the worst roommates.”

“Well, his reign ends today,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “I’m moving to the couch if I have to. No way I’m surviving another night like that.” 

Quinn paused mid-pour, glancing up at you with a hint of mischief in his expression. “You know…” he started, “My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical. “Is that your way of offering me your bed while you take the floor, or are you actually trying to convince me to sleep with you?” 

He grinned, unbothered by your teasing tone. “I’m offering you peace and quiet. What you make of it is up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I’ll think about it,” you said, taking another sip of water.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Luke shouted, his voice piercing through the quiet air as he ran into the kitchen. “It’s the first day at the lake! We’re wasting perfectly good hours of sunlight here.” You glared at Luke as you chugged the water, sending him a stern look. 

Quinn sighed, walking over to put an arm around your shoulders. “I think little miss sunshine over here needs a nap.” 

“She looks more like little miss raincloud.” Luke let out with a light chuckle. You quickly stretched out your leg, sending him a kick to the shin. “What the hell-”

“Stop being a dumbass.” You interrupted with a stern tone to your voice. 

Luke rubbed his shin dramatically, his face a mix of confusion and mock offense. “We just got here, and you’re already assaulting me?” 

“Consider it a warning,” you said, setting your glass down on the counter and narrowing your eyes at him. 

Quinn chuckled, keeping his arm around your shoulders. “She didn’t sleep last night. Trevor and Cole made sure of that.” 

“I heard my name, what’s going on?” Trevor came jogging down the stairs looking way too happy for your liking.

You groaned audibly, your head dropping into your hands as Trevor bounded into the kitchen, his grin almost as obnoxious as the snoring that kept you up all night. "Why are you so chipper?" you asked, your voice dripping with exhaustion and irritation.

Trevor shrugged, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. “Got a great night’s sleep, that’s why.” He peeled the banana, dramatically biting into it. “Man, I feel amazing.”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Oh, I’m so glad someone enjoyed their night.”

Trevor tilted his head, clearly enjoying your misery. “What’s the problem? Air mattress too lumpy for ya?”

“She’s mad because you snore like a freight train,” Quinn interjected, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “And because Cole used her mattress as a trampoline every time you kicked him off the bed.”

Trevor laughed, a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the kitchen. “That’s hilarious! Why didn’t anyone wake me up? I would’ve joined in.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now? I barely survived the night because of you two.”

Luke, still nursing his bruised shin, smirked from the corner. “You really should’ve just slept outside.”

“That’s it,” you said, throwing your hands up and stomping toward the doorway. “I’m finding Jack. At least he won’t mock me to my face.” 

Trevor called after you, still grinning. “Tell him we need more snacks! Oh, and maybe some earplugs for tonight!” You flipped him off without looking back, earning a loud cackle from the kitchen.

As you stepped into the living room, the sound of Jack's voice floated down from the upstairs balcony. "Yeah, I knew this would happen," he was saying, clearly talking to someone on the phone. "But hey, it’s not my problem."

You stormed up the stairs and into his room, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “Jack Hughes!” you yelled, startling him mid-sentence. He looked up at you, wide-eyed, as you jabbed a finger in his direction. “We need to talk. Now.” 

Jack stared at you, the phone still pressed to his ear as he sat up in his bed. “Uh, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said quickly, hanging up before you could even see who he was talking to. He set the phone on the nightstand and raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, don’t kill me. What’s this about?” 

“What’s this about?” you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is about you deciding to ditch Trevor and Cole on me. I know you masterminded this. ‘For the greater good,’ my ass.” 

Jack’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, which only fueled your anger. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said, trying to sound innocent. “I mean, come on, they’re not that annoying.” 

You shot him a glare so intense it could’ve melted steel. “They are exactly that annoying. Trevor’s snoring was like sharing a room with a lawnmower, and Cole-” You stopped yourself, throwing your hands up. “I don’t even have words for what Cole did to my air mattress.”

Jack finally broke, laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed. “Oh man, this is even better than I thought.” 

“It’s not funny, Jack!” you snapped, but his laughter was contagious, and you felt the corner of your mouth twitch despite yourself. 

He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. “Okay, fine, I’ll make it up to you. How about this, you can sleep in my room tonight. I’ll take the couch.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, weighing your options. As much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, a full night’s sleep in a decent bed sounded like heaven. “Fine,” you said, pointing at him. “But you’re on thin ice. Scoot over.” You quickly walked over to climb into bed next to Jack, making yourself comfortable under the blankets. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, grinning down at you from his sitting position. 

You looked up at him once and then closed your eyes, shifting your head against the pillow. “Taking a nap in my bed.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Your bed, huh? I don’t remember signing off on that.” 

Without opening your eyes, you muttered, “You forfeited ownership when you subjected me to Trevor and Cole. Consider this reparations.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooted over to make room. “Fine. But if you start snoring, I’m kicking you out.” 

You peeked one eye open, glaring at him. “Unlike some people in this house, I have normal human sleep habits. No snoring, no body-slamming, no dramatics.” 

Jack leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

“Not if you don’t shut up and let me sleep,” you mumbled, already nestling deeper into the blankets. The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and the faint scent of Jack’s cologne lingering on the pillow didn’t hurt either. Within minutes, your body began to relax, exhaustion taking over. Jack stayed where he was, scrolling on his phone and glancing at you every so often. The corners of his mouth tugged upward as he watched your breathing slow, your features softening in sleep. Despite the chaos earlier, he couldn’t help but feel a little smug. As you shifted slightly, your hand brushed against his leg, and Jack froze, his gaze flicking down to where your fingers rested against his knee. A faint blush crept up his neck, but he quickly shook his head, muttering to himself. “Nope. Nope.” Still, he didn’t move, staying right where he was to make sure you got your much needed nap. After all, if you woke up cranky again, he was pretty sure you’d murder someone, and it probably wouldn’t be Trevor or Cole. Jack scrolled mindlessly on his phone, glancing at you every now and then as you slept peacefully beside him. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the contrast between your current state and the fiery temper you’d displayed just an hour ago. He was used to your sarcastic remarks and quick comebacks, but seeing you this calm, curled up in his bed, was different. He sighed, tossing his phone to the side and letting his head fall back against the headboard. It was still early in the day, but the lake house was already buzzing with chaos. From the sounds of it, Trevor had probably convinced Luke to start some sort of ridiculous competition outside, and Quinn was likely refereeing with an eye roll and a resigned sigh. Jack was tempted to join them, but his eyes drifted back to you. He knew you’d been looking forward to this trip as much as anyone, and now, thanks to his little prank with the room assignments, you were already worn out. Maybe he’d gone too far this time. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as you shifted closer to his side. Jack froze, not wanting to wake you, but when your head lightly bumped against his arm, he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across his face.

 “Great,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with mock annoyance. “Now I’m a pillow.” You didn’t respond, of course, but your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t used to this; being this close to you without the usual teasing or bickering. It felt...nice. 

The sound of the door slamming downstairs startled him, followed by Trevor’s unmistakable shout. “Jack! Where are you? It’s boatin’ time!” Jack groaned, glancing down at you. Your face scrunched up slightly at the noise, and he could tell you were seconds away from waking up. 

Before you could fully stir, Jack leaned down, his voice soft. “Do you wanna go for a boat ride or stay here longer?” 

You let out a heavy sigh, moving your head from Jack’s arm to rub your eyes. “I guess I should probably go.” He smiled down at your sleepy state, running his hand through your hair as you woke up. 

Jack’s touch was light, almost hesitant, as his fingers combed through your hair. “You sure?” he asked softly, his grin teasing but warm. “I can fend them off if you wanna sleep longer.”

You groaned, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “If I stay, they’ll just find a way to drag me out of here anyway,” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep. Your eyes flicked to Jack, catching the way he was watching you. His grin softened into something gentler, and it made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Fair point,” he said, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go tame the animals.” You took his hand lightly, letting go as soon as you stood up. You and Jack parted ways when you reached the spare room. He made his way downstairs to the dock while you put on your bathing suit. You entered the room, not bothering to lock it since everyone was already outside. You let out a dramatic yawn, stretching your arms above your head before grabbing your swimsuit. You opted for a forest green triangle bikini with side tie bottoms. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment before taking off your shirt, just looking at your tired eyes. Dark circles had formed and you looked utterly exhausted. You grasped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before removing your shorts. You slipped on the bottoms first before reaching for your top. You slipped it over your body first, then flipped the backside to the front to retie the strings. You were topless fiddling with the strings when you heard the door swing open.  

“Hey babe-” Cole stood at the door, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of you with no top. He was like a deer in headlights, making direct eye contact with your breasts. His mouth parted slightly as his eyes widened. 

“Cole! Get out!” You yelled, knocking him back into reality. He covered his eyes with his hands as he let out a slight scream.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He cried out as he stood there with his eyes covered. “I didn’t see anything! I swear!” 

You stood there, flustered as you tried to cover yourself with your arms. “Why are you still standing there?!” You scolded. 

“I-I-I-I don’t know!” He shook his head, still standing there. 

You shook your head, letting it hang for a moment. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” You muttered. “Get out, Cole!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” He cried out, still in disbelief at what he’d just seen. He turned his body around, eyes still covered as he walked towards the door. His memory of the layout had betrayed him quickly as his head made direct contact with the door in front of him. You quickly tied your bikini top on before walking closer to him. 

You sighed, torn between annoyance and concern, as Cole stumbled slightly, rubbing his forehead. “Cole, are you okay?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He peeked through his fingers, cautiously lowering his hands when he realized you were now covered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as a bright blush spread across his cheeks. “Didn’t mean to barge in…I didn’t know you were in here.” As he turned to leave, the door swung open again. This time revealing Quinn, who immediately froze, taking in the scene. You in your swimsuit, Cole looking flustered and guilty. 

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh... what’s going on here?”

Cole stammered, pointing at you as if that would somehow explain everything. “I-it’s not what it looks like!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache forming. “Cole accidentally walked into the room while I was changing. End of story.” 

Quinn’s lips twitched, but he fought to keep a straight face. “Accidentally, huh?” He glanced at Cole, then back at you, his teasing smirk forming. “You sure you weren’t just trying to put on a show, sunshine?”

Your face burned as you shot him a glare. “Quinn, don’t even start.” 

Cole held up his hands, desperate to escape the situation. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving!” He practically bolted out the door, muttering apologies under his breath as Quinn stepped aside to let him pass. 

You groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “If anyone makes one joke about this, I’m throwing them off the boat.” You looked up at Quinn who was wearing a perfect, teasing smile. He had his yankees hat on backwards, his canucks shirt fitting perfectly over his build. If you weren’t stressing about the moments just before, you’d be absolutely drooling over him right now. 

Quinn chuckled, pushing off the door to walk closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll back you up. But for the record...” He sat beside you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “I don’t blame Cole for freezing. You’re kind of hard to look away from.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his tone, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.” 

He laughed, standing up and extending a hand to you. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go make sure Trevor hasn’t capsized the boat yet.” 

You rolled your eyes but took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “If he has, we’re throwing him in the lake.”

Quinn grinned, his hand lingering in yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Deal.” Quinn led you out of the room, his hand brushing yours as you both descended the stairs toward the dock. Outside, the sun glinted off the water, and the sound of laughter and splashing filled the air. Trevor was already in the lake, standing on the edge of the boat, waving his arms dramatically. 

“Come on!” He yelled. “We're losing precious hours of sunlight!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you and Quinn made your way down to the dock. You slipped one of Cole’s t-shirts over your head that you’d swiped from the room before heading down, not wanting to be fully exposed just yet. “O’captain o’captain,” Trevor started with a terrible fake British accent. “Come to ye mighty wheel and commandeer this ship from lord Luke.” 

You made your way onto the boat, sending Trevor a nudge that almost pushed him into the water. “Shut up.” You mumbled, taking your spot in one of the seats, isolated from everyone else. You tucked your legs underneath yourself as you leaned your elbow on the edge of the boat. 

You looked over at Trevor who rebalanced himself, jumping back into the boat with a smug grin. “Heard about your ‘bodacious rack’.” He said with a slight laugh. Your face flushed and you scoffed, turning to Cole who sat in front of you.

Fear struck his eye at the sight of your glare. “You told them that?” You scolded. 

“No, no! T-That’s not what I said.” He let out with a nervous laugh and a sheepish smile, straightening his posture. 

“Uh, that’s exactly what you said.” Luke chimed in, taking a sip of his beer. 

Your jaw dropped, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling up as you glared at Cole. “Seriously?” you said, crossing your arms. “Cole, you’ve got about five seconds to explain yourself before I toss you in the lake.” 

Cole raised his hands defensively, his face already bright red. “Wait, wait, wait! It wasn’t like that- I swear! I didn’t say it like that.” 

Trevor, of course, was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, but you did, buddy. Don’t try to backtrack now.” He mimicked Cole’s voice, dramatically exaggerated. “‘Man, I saw everything. Her whole top was down and she’s got this bodacious rack.’ Classic, Cole.” 

Luke snorted into his beer, clearly enjoying the show, while Quinn groaned from the driver’s seat, his head falling back slightly in exasperation. “Trevor, do you ever stop instigating?”

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “I’m just here to deliver the truth.”

Cole stammered, his words coming out in a jumbled mess. “I-I didn’t mean it like- like that! It was…it was an observation, okay?!” His hands flew up as if that would somehow help his case. “I was just- it slipped out, and then Trevor-” He gestured wildly toward Trevor, who was enjoying this far too much. “He made it worse!”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, so it’s Trevor’s fault now?”

“Absolutely!” Cole nodded enthusiastically, latching onto the lifeline. “Trevor twisted my words!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh despite your irritation. Turning to Quinn, who was still steering the boat, you said, “Can we leave Trevor and Cole stranded on an island somewhere?”

Quinn smirked, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Tempting, but then who would provide the entertainment?”

“Jack can,” you quipped, giving Jack a pointed look. “He’s just as bad.” 

Jack raised his drink in a mock toast. “Guilty as charged.” You looked over at Trevor who was still wearing a wide smile. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you settled further into your seat, occasionally glancing over at Cole.

“Now I feel like I can’t take my shirt off.” You mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses on your head. 

Luke laughed slightly, walking over to sit next to you. “Don’t be ridiculous, bunny. You can take off your shirt.”

You looked over at him, a glare in your eye as he made himself comfortable next to you. “I really can’t.”

“It’s fine.” He said, his voice low. “You’ve done it a million times before, what’s so different about today?” You sighed, rolling your eyes once again. Reluctantly you grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up your body. Once you had the shirt halfway up, you glanced over at Cole. He was staring, watching as you slowly removed your shirt. His mouth was parted slightly and you could've sworn drool was going to slip out. 

“Nope, nope.” You said, still holding your shirt up. “Can’t do it.” You said glancing over at Luke. 

Jack groaned from his seat, tossing his head back slightly. “You're such a baby.”

“Look at Cole!” You pointed toward Cole, whose wide-eyed stare was a dead giveaway. 

His face turned even redder, and he immediately scrambled to defend himself. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t staring! I swear!” he stammered, his hands flailing wildly as if that would erase the moment. 

Trevor burst out laughing, practically doubling over. “Oh man, Cole, you’re making it so much worse!” 

“Exactly!” you shot back, lowering your shirt again and crossing your arms over your chest. “This is why I can’t take it off.”

Jack, who had been observing the chaos with growing impatience, groaned again. “For the love of god, we’re on a lake. You’re wearing a bikini. Just take it off and let Cole get over it already.”

“Easy for you to say!” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “No one’s staring at you.” 

Trevor perked up, his grin widening. “I could stare at Jack if it makes you feel better.” 

Jack threw a bottle cap at him. “Shut up, Trevor.”

Luke, meanwhile, nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Come on, Bunny. You’re overthinking it. It’s just us.” You sighed, glancing between Luke’s calm expression and Cole’s absolute mortification. Despite the teasing, you knew Luke was right. You’d done this a hundred times before, just not after that incident. 

“Fine,” you muttered, your voice begrudging as you peeled the shirt off in one swift motion. You avoided Cole’s gaze entirely, tossing the shirt onto Luke’s lap for good measure. “There. Happy?” 

Luke smirked, casually picking up the shirt and tossing it toward the front of the boat. “Much better.” 

“Get me a drink?” You asked, pulling your hair into a bun. Luke nodded his head, walking to the cooler and returning with a peach high noon. He handed it over before returning to his spot next to you. He splayed his arm across the back of the boat behind you as you tucked closer into his side.  You leaned back on Luke's side, your legs tucked up in front of you as you cracked open the can, staring at Quinn pulling the boat from the dock. “This is nice.” You said with a sigh of relief, leaning your head back to look up at Luke. 

Luke glanced down at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile as his arm shifted slightly to rest more securely behind you. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that it felt like it was just for you. “It is.” The boat cut smoothly through the lake, the gentle hum of the engine blending with the sound of water lapping against the hull. The sun was warm, the breeze just cool enough to keep things comfortable, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt completely at ease. 

“Hey, Sunny,” Trevor said, walking over to sit next to you.

“Oh my god.” You groaned out as he took his spot. You lifted your legs so he could sit, then rested them on his lap. “What do you want?” 

Trevor lifted his hands in mock surrender, a smug grin forming across his face. “Just wanted to apologize.”

​​You raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Trevor’s sudden attempt at sincerity. “Apologize?” you echoed, crossing your arms as your legs remained draped over his lap. “What’s the catch?”

​​Trevor placed a hand over his heart, his grin never wavering. “No catch. I just felt bad about earlier, you know, with the whole…‘bodacious rack’ thing.” He paused dramatically, glancing at Luke, who was watching him with narrowed eyes. “I realize now that my words may have caused some…discomfort.”

“Oh, you realize now?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. 

Trevor nodded solemnly, but his playful expression betrayed him. “Absolutely. So, to make it up to you…” He leaned in closer, his grin growing wider. “I’m offering you the first push when we inevitably throw Luke into the lake.”

Luke snorted, shaking his head. “You’re really working hard to shift the blame, aren’t you?”

“Trevor, the human deflection machine,” you muttered, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink. “Your apology could use some work.”

“Hey, I’m trying here!” Trevor said, leaning back dramatically as he adjusted your legs on his lap. “But seriously, Sunny, no hard feelings, right?” 

You studied him for a moment, his ridiculous grin and puppy-dog eyes impossible to stay mad at for long. Finally, you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. No hard feelings.” 

Trevor pumped his fist in victory. “Yes! See, Luke? That’s how you handle things like a mature adult.”

Luke smirked, his arm brushing against your shoulder as he leaned closer. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t know maturity if it hit you in the face.”

“Bold words from the guy who’s about to be pushed in,” Trevor shot back, winking at you as if to say game on. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the chaos brewing. “You’re both children.”

“Children with impeccable charm,” Trevor quipped, holding out his fist for you to bump. 

You ignored his fist but gave him a teasing shove instead. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” Trevor let out a gentle laugh as he leaned back in his seat. You shuffled your position, lounging further into Luke’s side. You glanced over at Cole who sat awkwardly as he talked to Jack, looking uncomfortable as ever. You frowned slightly at the sight. You were used to Cole constantly hitting on you, showering you with compliments, and you wouldn’t admit it but you missed it. “Cole!” You shouted in an attempt to gain his attention. He quickly whipped his head over to you, his face flushing slightly. “Those swim trunks look nice on you.” You said with a smirk before pushing your sunglasses further up the bridge of your nose, leaning your head back to look up at the sky. 

Cole’s eyes widened, his posture stiffening as a flush crept up his neck. “Uh- thanks,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. His gaze darted to Jack, who smirked knowingly, giving him a little shove.

“Relax, man,” Jack teased. “She’s just messing with you.” 

“Am I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly, your tone teasing as you kept your sunglasses on. You didn’t bother looking directly at Cole, but you could feel his nervous energy from across the boat. It was almost too easy. 

Trevor let out a low whistle, leaning forward from his seat. “Rare occurrence to see her flirting with you. Not even gonna attempt one, Caufield?” 

“Yeah, normally you treat her like she’s the love of your life.” Luke chuckled, his arm shifting slightly. 

Cole let out a heavy sigh, his face turning bright pink which he tried to cover with his sunglasses. “Alright,” He started, his voice shaky at first. “Come over here, hot stuff.” A satisfied smile wiped across your face as you got up from your spot leaning against Luke. Cole’s sudden confidence caught everyone off guard, including you. As you made your way over, you couldn’t help but smirk, your sunglasses hiding the glint of amusement in your eyes. 

“Hot stuff, huh?” you teased, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. “Big talk for someone who’s been blushing like crazy all day.” 

Cole leaned back slightly, regaining some composure now that he’d committed to the bit. “Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he replied, his voice steadier but still tinged with nervous energy. He patted the spot next to him. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” You glanced at the others, all of whom were watching with varying degrees of amusement. Trevor was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning insanely hard. Jack looked seconds away from gagging, and Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Cole’s sudden bravado. 

Sliding into the seat next to Cole, you leaned into him slightly, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “So, what’s the plan now, Mr. Smooth Talker?”

Cole chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Trevor erupted into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh man, this is gold. Caufield finally shoots his shot and fumbles it immediately.”

Jack groaned, leaning back with a hand over his face. “This is painful to watch.”

You shook your head, biting back a laugh as you leaned closer to Cole. “Relax,” you said, your voice softer now. “You’re doing fine.” 

“Fine?” Cole repeated, his confidence returning slightly. “I think I’m doing great, actually. You’re sitting here, aren’t you?” 

Luke, who had been quiet for the past few moments, finally chimed in. “Don’t get used to it, Cole. She’ll be back here in, like, two minutes.” 

You turned your head, narrowing your eyes at Luke. “Oh, really?”

Luke shrugged, his smirk smug. “Yeah. You’re just messing with him. I know how this works, Bunny.”

Cole crossed his arms, leaning back as he grinned at Luke. “Jealous, Hughes?”

Luke rolled his eyes, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck. “Hardly,” he muttered.

Trevor clapped his hands together, clearly living for the drama. “Alright, let’s settle this with a little wager. How long does she stay over there before she’s back at Luke’s side?”

Jack groaned louder this time, standing up. “I’m jumping in the lake. Someone let me know when this disaster ends.” As Jack dove off the side of the boat, the group erupted into laughter, the tension breaking as you leaned back against the seat, still smirking. 

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

Cole grinned, nudging you lightly. “Yeah, but you love us anyway.” You couldn’t argue with that.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After a long day of sitting in the sun, swimming in the lake, and dealing with Trevor, Quinn finally pulled the boat back into the dock. The sun was already setting when you stepped off, Cole’s hand out gallantly to help. You took it gratefully as you stepped onto the dock, the air already cooling down which left you freezing in your bikini. 

“Cold?” Treavor asked, walking up next to you.

Your teeth chattered as you tried to warm your arms with your hands. “Very.”

Trevor let out a soft laugh, looking over at you. “Race you to the house.” He said before taking off, sprinting through the yard.

“Not fair, Trevor!” You giggled, following close behind him. As you took off after Trevor, the cool grass tickling your feet, you couldn’t help but laugh despite the chill creeping into your skin. The fading sunlight painted the yard in shades of orange and gold, and Trevor’s exaggerated sprint ahead of you was just enough motivation to push you to keep up. 

“Come on, Sunny!” Trevor yelled over his shoulder, his voice full of mischief. “Can’t let me win that easily!”  Trevor reached the porch first, dramatically throwing his arms in the air. “Victory is mine!” he declared, spinning around to face you as you came to a stop, slightly out of breath. “Man, you’re slow.” 

You rolled your eyes, still laughing. “You had a head start, idiot.” 

Before Trevor could respond, Jack jogged up from behind, tossing a towel over your shoulders. “Here,” he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to Trevor’s boisterous teasing. “You’re freezing.” 

You gave him a grateful smile, pulling the towel tight around yourself. “Thanks, Jack. At least someone’s a gentleman.” 

Trevor feigned offense, holding his hand to his chest. “Wow. That hurts, Sunny.”

“It’s true,” Luke said as he strolled up the steps, shaking his head. “You ditch her in a bikini to sprint to the house, and you think you’re winning points?” 

Trevor shrugged, unapologetic. “She had fun.” 

“I’m gonna hit you,” you said, your voice light despite the threat. 

“Promises, promises,” Trevor quipped, dodging past you and into the house before you could retaliate. As you stepped inside, the warm air enveloped you like a hug, and the sound of the others following behind filled the space with a cozy buzz. 

Quinn wandered in last, shaking his head at the lingering chaos. “Do you guys ever relax?” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. 

You plopped onto the couch, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “Relaxing is overrated,” you teased, looking up at Quinn. “Right, Quinny?” 

Quinn rolled his eyes but smirked as he tossed a sweatshirt your way. “Here. Before you start whining about being cold again.” 

“Whining?” you repeated, feigning shock as you pulled the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re lucky I like you, Hughes.” 

“Luckiest man alive,” he echoed dryly, shaking his head as he disappeared into the kitchen. You let out a sigh, sinking into the warmth of the couch. You sat back for a moment, watching Trevor and Jack laugh about something on Jack’s phone, Cole mumbling the lyrics to ‘Cardigan’ by Taylor Swift, Luke and Quinn searching the fridge for water bottles, just admiring the scene. You couldn’t have been happier anywhere else, and you were glad you finally made it to the lakehouse. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” You said, standing up from the couch. “Cole, please don’t barge in. I’ll lock the door just in case.” 

Cole, mid-verse in his rendition of Cardigan, froze, his face turning red as everyone burst out laughing. “Don’t do that!” he protested, his voice tinged with mock offense. “It was an accident!” 

Trevor smirked, leaning against the back of the couch. “Doesn’t mean we don’t expect it, lover boy.”

“Trevor, shut up,” Cole grumbled, glaring at him. “You’re the one who can’t go two minutes without harassing her.” 

“Hey, I’m just here to make her day a little brighter,” Trevor quipped, winking at you. “I’d never cross the bathroom boundary.” 

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the towel Jack had draped over you earlier. “Good to know the bar is that low. Thanks for clearing that up, Zegras.” 

Jack looked up from his phone, smirking. “Lock the door anyway. These guys are like wild animals.”

“Speak for yourself!” Luke called from the kitchen, holding up a water bottle like it was proof of his innocence. You giggled, ruffling Jack’s hair as you made your way up the stairs. 

You loved the lake, but if you were being honest, it made you feel disgusting. Sitting in the heat all day paired with swimming in water where you couldn’t see the bottom was bound to shake you up. You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water entrap your body, washing away every germ on your body. The steam from the hot water filled the small bathroom, cocooning you in warmth as the water cascaded over your skin. It was a relief, both physically and mentally, to scrub away the day’s grime. The mix of sunscreen, lake water, and sweat felt like a distant memory as you lathered soap over your skin, enjoying the sensation of being truly clean again. You tilted your head back, letting the water soak your hair, rinsing away the tangles left by the wind and water. The faint scent of your favorite shampoo filled the air, calming you further as you massaged it into your scalp. The day had been fun, filled with laughter and a little chaos, but this moment, just you and the hot water, felt like exactly what you needed to recharge. You stepped out of the shower, throwing a fresh towel over your body as you walked out of the bathroom. You headed down the hallway, hearing the faint sounds of everyone laughing. It was like music to your ears. You slipped into the spare room, making sure to lock the door behind you this time. You dropped the towel, taking a moment to fix your hair in the mirror before throwing one of Trevor’s Ducks sweatshirts over your head, along with some small athletic shorts. The soft fabric of Trevor’s sweatshirt engulfed you, its faint scent of laundry detergent and cologne oddly comforting. You smiled to yourself, knowing full well Trevor would make a big deal out of you “stealing” his sweatshirt the second he noticed. But for now, it was your little secret. You padded back down the stairs, the wood creaking softly under your bare feet. The living room came into view, and sure enough, chaos was in full swing. Trevor was standing on the couch, dramatically reenacting some story, while Cole was doubled over in laughter. Jack looked utterly unimpressed, scrolling on his phone, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. Luke was sprawled across the floor, throwing an occasional quip into the mix, and Quinn leaned against the wall, shaking his head but clearly amused. You walked over to Quinn first, wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug. You leaned your head against his chest, taking in his fresh scent. Judging by his wet hair and the warmth of his clothes, he’d also showered, unlike the other guys. 

“I’m so exhausted.” You croaked out, digging your face further into his chest.

Quinn chuckled softly, his hand instinctively resting on the back of your head as he returned the hug. “Long day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and soothing. 

“You have no idea,” you mumbled, your words slightly muffled by his shirt. “Between the lake, the sun, and Trevor being Trevor, I’m wiped.” 

He smirked, his hand brushing gently down your back before he pulled away slightly to look at you. “You still gonna have energy to deal with round two tomorrow?”

You groaned, leaning against him. “I might need to sleep for like, twenty hours first.” 

He shook his head, his smirk softening as he looked back at you. “Go sit down before you fall asleep standing up.” You nodded, letting him guide you toward the couch where Jack quickly shuffled to make room. You plopped down beside him, tucking your legs under you as you pulled Trevor’s oversized sweatshirt tighter around your body. 

“Nice sweatshirt, Sunny,” Trevor said, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed. “Looks familiar.” 

You glanced up at him with an innocent smile. “Oh, this? No idea where it came from.” 

Jack snorted. “You’ll never get it back anyway. She’s stubborn.” 

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, leaning back and resting your head against Jack’s shoulder. “It’s mine now. Deal with it.” 

Trevor rolled his eyes but grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Fine. But only because it looks better on you.” 

“Everything looks better on her.” Cole let out with a soft smile as he laid back on the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Smooth, Caufield. Very smooth.” The group erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but smile, the exhaustion of the day melting away as you relaxed into the warmth and chaos of this little family. 

“Alright,” Quinn started, raising a hand as he stood in front of the couch. “First night at the house, what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza!” You shouted, raising both your hands in the air. 

Jack chuckled, putting his arm around your waist to pull you up closer. “Yes, pizza!” He yelled.

Quinn smirked, shaking his head at the sudden burst of energy. “Alright, pizza it is. Who’s calling it in?” 

“Not me,” Trevor said, holding his hands up defensively. “Last time I ordered, you all complained about the toppings.” 

“That’s because you thought anchovies were a good idea,” Luke quipped from his spot on the floor. “You’re banned from ordering.” 

“Hey, anchovies are a valid choice,” Trevor shot back, pointing a finger at Luke. “You’re just uncultured.”

Quinn sighed, already pulling his phone out. “Fine. What do we want?”

“Pepperoni,” Jack said immediately, his arm still casually draped around you. “Keep it classic.”

“Hawaiian,” Cole suggested, earning groans from most of the group.

“No pineapple!” you and Jack exclaimed in unison, making the others laugh. 

“Alright, alright, pepperoni and maybe a veggie for balance,” Quinn said, ignoring the chaos as he dialed the number. “Anything else?”

“Breadsticks!” Luke called out, raising his water bottle like it was a toast.

“And wings!” Trevor added, clearly back in high-energy mode.

Quinn sighed but nodded, pacing to the corner of the room as he started placing the order. “You guys are lucky I’m feeling generous.”

You leaned back against Jack, letting out a contented sigh. “See? This is why you’re my favorite, Quinn.”

“Careful, Sunny,” Trevor teased. “Jack might get jealous.”

Jack scoffed, giving your side a playful squeeze. “Please. I’m her favorite, and we all know it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “Debatable.” The group laughed, and the warmth of the moment settled over you like a blanket. The boys continued their chatter as Quinn called the pizza place from the corner. You pulled out your phone as Jack moved to the corner of the couch, pulling you along with him. You rested your back against him, his arm draped around you, tracing careful circles on your skin. As you scrolled through your phone, you couldn’t help but feel the soothing rhythm of Jack’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. It was a small gesture, but one that anchored you amidst the playful chaos surrounding you. The hum of the boys’ voices filled the room, their laughter punctuated by Trevor’s dramatic retelling of some ridiculous story, likely exaggerated for effect. You scrolled on instagram, catching a post by the Devils of Nico and Timo. Your curiosity took over as you pressed on Nico’s tag, beginning to scroll through his profile. You smiled, looking at pictures of him back home in Switzerland. One of him crouching next to a dog in a flower field made you blush as you zoomed in on his face. 

“Why are you looking at Nico’s instagram?” Jack asked, his voice quiet.

“Why are you looking at my phone?” You snapped back, leaning your head up to look at him. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re on my teammate’s profile, zooming in on his face. It’s hard not to notice.” 

You huffed your breath, setting your phone down. “Maybe, if you just let me have a shot at him I wouldn’t-”

“Oh no, no, no,” He interrupted. “No way in hell am I gonna let you do that. We’ve been over this.” 

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back to fully face him, his arm still resting loosely around you. “Excuse me?” you said, your tone dripping with mock offense. “Let me? Since when do you get to decide who I can or can’t date?” 

Jack’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a stubborn set to his jaw. “Since it’s Nico,” he said firmly, his voice low. “He’s not some random guy you can flirt with. He’s my captain. My teammate.” 

“And?” you countered, crossing your arms. “What does that have to do with me? It’s not like I’m asking for your permission.” Jack groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What, are you worried I’d distract him? Or embarrass you?” 

“No!” Jack said quickly, but the flicker of guilt in his expression made you narrow your eyes. 

“Wow, that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief. “You think I’d embarrass you.” 

Jack sighed, his hand still tracing slow circles on your arm as if trying to calm the brewing storm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” you pressed, your voice softer now but still holding its edge.

Jack hesitated, his eyes flickering down to where his hand rested on your arm. “I just…It’s complicated, princess. Just- shit I'd rather not get into right now.” He said, his hand moving to rub his face. You softened slightly at Jack’s uncharacteristic hesitation. It wasn’t often he struggled to find the words, and the way his hand rubbed his face told you he was trying to bury something deeper than the surface-level teasing you were used to.

“It’s complicated?” you repeated, your tone quieter now, curiosity lacing your words. “Jack, you know that’s not gonna fly with me. Just spit it out.” 

Jack sighed, dropping his hand from his face to rest it on the back of the couch. “It’s just… weird, okay? You and Nico. I can’t explain it.” 

You tilted your head, studying him as he avoided your gaze. “Weird how? Like, you’re protective of him? Or…?” You trailed off, waiting for him to fill the silence. 

Jack let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, alright? I don’t want to see you with him. It’s not about Nico. It’s about…you.” 

Your stomach flipped at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. “About me?”

Jack finally met your eyes, his gaze steady and uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah. About you. I’m used to having you around, and I don’t want anything to change.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. “Jack-”

“It’s stupid, okay?” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could say more. “Just forget I said anything.” 

You shook your head, sitting up straighter. “No, it’s not stupid. Jack, if you’re trying to tell me something, just say it. I’m not gonna bite.”

He groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “It’s not that easy.” 

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Then make it easy. It’s me, Jack. You can tell me.” Jack sighed again, his eyes flicking back to yours. For a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but then Trevor’s loud voice broke through the tension. 

“Hey! Pizza’s here!” Trevor yelled from the front door, his excitement cutting through the quiet.

Jack immediately pulled away, the moment dissipating as he ran a hand down his face again. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, standing up and avoiding your gaze. You stayed on the couch, watching him go as your mind raced. There was something there, something he wasn’t ready to admit, but the weight of his words lingered, leaving you wondering what exactly he was holding back. 

“You good, bunny?” Luke asked, standing in front of you as you processed the interaction with Jack.

“Yeah, yeah. I-I’m good.” You stammered out, getting up from your seat on the couch. 

Luke smiled, placing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “Good. We have a pizza to demolish.” He said, shaking you slightly in his arm. ​​You laughed softly, allowing Luke to guide you toward the dining area where the rest of the guys were already gathering around the table. Trevor was handing out plates with exaggerated flair, Cole was busy inspecting the pizza boxes like he was on quality control duty, and Quinn was unboxing the breadsticks with the precision of a surgeon. Jack was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. His expression was unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the pizza. You felt a twinge in your chest, but Luke’s arm around your shoulders helped ground you.

“Sunshine, c’mere.” Quinn said from the counter where he unboxed the breadsticks. You escaped Luke’s grasp, skipping over towards where Quinn stood. You got up next to him, putting your face close to his as he looked down at the box. 

“What’s up?” You asked playfully.

“Got these just for you,” He said, holding up two small containers of ranch. “Don’t let Cole see ‘em.” He laughed quietly before slipping them into the pocket of your hoodie.

You beamed at Quinn, his quiet thoughtfulness making your chest warm. “You’re the best,” you said, slipping your arms around his waist for a quick hug. 

“Don’t let that get out,” he teased, patting the top of your head affectionately. “Gotta keep my reputation intact.” 

Trevor, never one to miss a beat, leaned against the counter dramatically. “I feel like I’m missing out on a secret conspiracy. Sunny, spill the tea.” 

“Um there is no tea,” you replied, grabbing a slice of pizza and making your way back to the table. “Unless you count Quinn looking insanely good handling those breadsticks.” 

Trevor’s jaw dropped in mock shock as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. “Whoa, whoa, pause. Is this the first time you’ve hit on Quinn outside the group chat?” Trevor asked, pointing dramatically between you and Quinn. Quinn, unfazed, smirked and shook his head, placing the breadsticks on the table.

Jack, who had been leaning back in his chair, finally chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, princess, tell us more about Quinn’s breadstick skills.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting into your pizza. “Don’t be jealous, Hughes. It’s not a good look on you.”

Jack’s smirk faltered, his brow arching slightly as he stared you down. “Jealous? Of him?” He gestured toward Quinn. “I don’t need breadsticks to be the favorite.” 

“Debatable,” Luke quipped from his spot, grinning. “Quinn’s got the ranch hookup. That’s game changing.”

“Thank you, Luke!” you said, gesturing toward him with your slice. “Finally, someone understands the value of ranch.” 

Cole, however, narrowed his eyes suspiciously, leaning forward in his chair. “Wait. Ranch? Where’s the ranch?” 

“Uh, nowhere,” you said quickly, pulling the hoodie pocket closer to your body. Cole’s gaze darted toward Quinn, then back to you.

Quinn raised his hands in mock innocence. “Don’t look at me, Caufield. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“There’s no ranch,” you said firmly, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. The dinner consisted of stories about past summers, laughs over things Cole had said, Luke attempting to do a backflip in the kitchen which ended with a face plant to the floor and a “You’re gonna get injured before the season even starts” from Quinn. You smiled, taking in the scene before you, just grateful you made it to this moment. After you all finished with dinner, everyone made their way to the back deck for a bonfire while you and Quinn stayed back to clean up. The soft hum of laughter and chatter drifted in from the back deck as you and Quinn gathered plates and empty pizza boxes. The kitchen felt warm, not just from the remnants of the oven’s heat but from the lingering joy of the evening. You caught Quinn’s eye as he stacked a few plates, his expression calm and content.

“Hey, is Jack acting…weird- to you?” You asked, cutting Quinn off guard as he finished stacking the plates. 

Quinn paused, his hand hovering over the stack of plates as he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Weird how?” he asked, his tone steady but curious. 

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I don’t know, he’s just been... quieter than usual. And earlier, he said some stuff that didn’t really make sense. Like, he wanted to say something but couldn’t.” 

Quinn tilted his head, considering your words. “Jack’s always been a little hard to read. But yeah, now that you mention it, he did seem a little off tonight.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “It’s like he’s holding something back, but I can’t figure out what. It’s...frustrating.” 

Quinn’s eyes softened as he studied your face. “You two are close. Maybe he’s trying to work through something but doesn’t know how to talk about it yet.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze drifting toward the back door where the sound of Trevor’s exaggerated laugh carried through. “I just feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

Quinn set the plates aside and turned to face you fully, his expression calm and reassuring. “Give him some time. If it’s important, he’ll talk to you when he’s ready. Jack’s stubborn, but he’s not one to keep things bottled up forever.” 

You smiled faintly, appreciating his steady presence. “Thanks, Quinny. You always know what to say.” 

He smirked, bumping your shoulder lightly. “Someone’s gotta keep the peace around here.” The two of you stood there in silence for a moment. Quinn, glancing down at the floor, fiddling with the keys in his pocket and you, crossing your arms as you stared into the living room entryway. “Listen, sunshine,” He started, breaking the silence. “There’s something i’ve been wanting to talk to you about-”

Before he could continue, Trevor’s voice rang out from the deck, louder than before. “Sunny! Quinn! Stop being lame and get out here! The marshmallows are calling!” 

Quinn let out a sigh, pushing off from his spot against the counter. “We’ll talk later.” You nodded, though curiosity flickered in your chest at Quinn’s abrupt pause. He gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading toward the back deck, the sound of Trevor’s persistent shouting growing louder as he opened the door. You followed close behind, filing the moment away in your mind to revisit later. The deck was alive with the glow of the fire and the warm energy of the group. Luke was busy toasting marshmallows, though half of his attempts ended up charred. Trevor was narrating his process like he was on a cooking show, while Cole argued about the correct marshmallow-to-chocolate ratio for the perfect s’more. Jack, as usual, lingered on the edge of the chaos, leaning against the railing with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. You grabbed a chair near the fire, letting the warmth soak into your skin as the cool lake breeze rustled through the trees. Jack’s quiet demeanor didn’t escape your notice, and your earlier conversation with Quinn lingered in your mind. After a while, Quinn sat beside you, nudging your knee with his. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you. You nodded, glancing at him with a faint smile. 

Trevor’s loud laughter broke through your moment, drawing your attention back to the group. “Jack!” he called, pointing dramatically at his friend. “Stop brooding over there and make a damn s’more.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, pushing off the railing and walking over. “I’m not brooding.”

“Sure,” Luke said with a smirk, handing Jack a marshmallow. “That’s why you’ve been staring at the fire like it owes you money.” Jack snorted, but his gaze flickered to you briefly before he sat down across the fire. You caught his look and held it for a second, a silent question hanging between you, but he quickly turned his attention to skewering the marshmallow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night air had grown cooler, and the flickering embers of the fire cast long shadows as you stretched, feeling the day’s exhaustion settle into your bones. Cole and Luke had already disappeared inside, their playful banter fading into the house as they headed to bed. Quinn had followed not long after, muttering something about being the responsible one and making sure the fire was fully out. You, Jack, and Trevor were the last to carry your tired bodies inside. You walked into the house next to Trevor while Jack followed not far behind. You rubbed your eyes, ready to get a real goodnight's sleep, unlike the night before. 

Trevor let out an exaggerated yawn as he reached the spare room, quickly moving to give you a side hug. “G’night, Sunny.”

“Night, Trev.” You said, your voice raspy as you craved sleep. You released yourself from Trevor’s hug, mirroring his yawn as you walked. You made your way to Jack’s room, your hand just barely touching the doorknob before he spoke up behind you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice low but laced with a sort of sterness you’d never heard from him.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Uh…going to bed?” You replied with a sassy tone. 

Jack rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “That’s my room.”

You scoffed, moving away from the door. “Yeah, obviously. This morning you said-”

“Yeah, but I decided I want to sleep in my bed tonight.” 

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in defiance. “Oh, so now you’re kicking me out?”

Jack shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. “Pretty much.” 

You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “Jack, I’m exhausted. Just let me crash in your bed. You can take the couch.” 

“No.”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to not make eye contact. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you tonight,” You said, tilting your head back down to face him. “I don’t know what kind of shit you’ve got going on in your life that you won’t talk to me about, but don’t take it out on me.” 

Jack pushed himself off the wall, his expression growing meaner. “The kind of shit I've got going on doesn’t concern you.” (IT TOTALLY DOES) He said with a nasty tone as he moved closer to you. “Go sleep in the bed you were given at the beginning of this trip.” Your jaw clenched at his words, and you could feel the sting of them settle in your chest. Jack had always been quick with his sarcasm, but this felt different, harsher, colder. You took a small step back, crossing your arms tightly across your chest like you were shielding yourself. 

“Wow,” you said, your voice quieter now but still firm. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to care about you anymore.” Jack flinched at your words, his mean exterior cracking for just a moment. He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a hand, cutting him off. “Whatever,” you said, shaking your head as you turned toward the hallway. “I don’t need this right now, Jack. Sleep wherever the hell you want.” You heard the door slam as you made your way down the hallway, your blood boiling with every stomp of your foot. You made it to the spare room, cracking the door slightly to get a look at Trevor and Cole. Trevor was man-spreading over the entire bed, snoring even louder than last night. You looked down to see Cole on your air mattress which was fully deflated at this point. You let out a sharp sigh, not knowing where to go.

“My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.” Quinn’s words from this morning echoed in your mind as you took in the scene in front of you. The thought of Quinn’s offer lingered, a tempting alternative to the chaos of the spare room and the sting of Jack’s harsh words. You closed the door quietly, leaning against it for a moment to steady your racing thoughts. The day’s exhaustion tugged at your body, and all you wanted was a peaceful place to sleep. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the door and made your way toward Quinn’s room, your steps quiet as the house settled into silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle. Is this a bad idea? you wondered, biting your lip. But the muffled sound of Trevor’s snoring and the image of your deflated air mattress pushed you to turn the knob. The door creaked softly as it opened, revealing Quinn’s room in complete pitch black darkness.

You carefully walked over to the edge of the bed, seeing Quinn with his eyes closed and his hair tousled against the pillow. “Quinn,” You whispered. He stirred slightly at the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttering open as he turned his head toward you. The dim light from the hallway illuminated his face just enough for you to see his sleepy confusion.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, his voice groggy. “What’s up?” 

You quickly moved your knees onto the bed. “Scooch over.” Quinn let out a soft smile through his closed eyes as you pulled the comforter over your body. “Cole took over my air mattress.”

Quinn let out a low chuckle, his voice still thick with sleep. “Of course he did,” he muttered, shifting slightly to give you more space. His arm brushed against yours as he adjusted the blanket, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, sinking into the mattress. The bed was far more comfortable than your deflated air mattress had ever been, and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

He turned slightly, lying on his side to face you. The faint glow from the hallway cast just enough light for you to catch the gentle amusement in his eyes. “You gonna steal all the blankets, or are we sharing?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll share, but no promises if I get cold.”

Quinn chuckled again, his hand tugging the comforter up over your shoulders. “Fair enough.” As the silence settled between you, the warmth of the bed and the quiet intimacy of the moment began to sink in. You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, and your leg brushed against Quinn’s. The faint contact made your heart skip, but before you could move away, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Better?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught for a moment, but the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you. “Yeah,” you said softly, relaxing into his hold. “Much better.” Quinn’s fingers rested lightly against your back, his touch gentle and unassuming. You let your head rest against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt all day. His other hand came up to rest lightly against your shoulder, holding you close but not overwhelming.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled, your voice heavy with exhaustion as you nestled closer. 

He let out a soft hum, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Guess I’m good for something.” You smiled against him, the tension of the day melting away as you let yourself relax fully in his arms. His presence was steady, grounding, and you couldn’t help but feel safe as the quiet of the room wrapped around you both.

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet fondness.

“Goodnight, Quinn,” you replied, your words barely audible as sleep began to pull you under. With his arms around you and the warmth of his body against yours, you finally felt at peace.

[gublerryswift]

I do, I do, I do | Spencer Reid x Reader

In which spencer proposes to you.

Absolutely tooth rotting fluff

Contents: Head over heels spence, pet names (honey, angel, darling...)

Warning: none!

a/n: title is a reference to "helpless" from Hamilton & there's a scene inspired by "the tortured poets department" (can u tell I love music?). This is my favorite fic I have ever written.

---

You and Spencer have been dating for 5 years now and, since last year, the team had begun asking the two of you - especially Reid - when were you guys going to “tie the knot”. You and Spencer had talked about it, both agreeing that you both did want to get married, but we’re not in a rush.

Now, you’re at Spencer's house getting ready for one of Rossi's famous dinners. When you look through the mirror, you see Spencer leaning against the door, watching you getting ready while he cuffs the sleeves of his black button-up shirt.

“You’re looking divine angel”

“Thank you honey” You say, turning to him “By the way, this is your last chance to kiss me, unless you also want to wear some red lipstick to Rossi’s”

He giggles, giving you a quick peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom to let you finish getting ready.

Later that night, you, Spencer and the rest of the team are all sitting at the dining table, talking and laughing. This is one of those few, but extremely special moments in which you guys forget all the horrors that happen at work and just are happy together.

You’re in an extremely exciting talk with Garcia about the latest fashion news, a topic that both of you really loved when you feel Spencer playing with your hands, something he usually did, so you did not pay much attention to it. But, at a point you felt him place the small ring he sometimes wore on your finger, specifically your left ring finger, the one you put wedding rings on. When you looked down at it, your heart almost stopped.

He leaned closer to whisper in your ear “It looks perfect on you” and then took it off, continuing to talk to Morgan about… Something. If you were to be honest, after that, you spaced out for a couple seconds, your heartbeat seemed so loud that it replaced all the other sounds around you.

—

2 months later, you’re remembering this moment as you get ready for a very suspicious dinner date with Spencer. Since what happened on Rossi's get together, you knew he was thinking about it and started your detective work to try and figure out when it might happen.

You had asked - no, begged Morgan and Penelope for any kind of clue. It's not that you wanted to know exactly when and where, you just needed a clue to know how to prepare yourself. After a while, you just gave up and decided to let it happen.

You became suspicious when Spencer asked Hotch for you both to have a day off, something you both rarely requested. He also bought you a Vivienne Westwood dress you had been eying for years now.

“Spencer Reid, you did not. Oh my god you're crazy” You said as you opened the box

“Did you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it, thank you so much” You say, leaning in to embrace him in a tight hug

“Maybe I can take you to dinner this Saturday, and you can wear it” He says between giggles because of how wide your smile was, oh how he loved pampering you.

“Sounds perfect honey”

Now, finally the day you had been so excited for. Could Spencer just have felt like giving you the dress? Yes, but for some reason you felt there was more to it. Maybe the way he spent the whole day trying to hide how nervous he is, the way he’s letting you take your sweet time getting ready, saying things like “don’t rush honey” or the mysterious call he received from Morgan earlier that day but you were sure something was going to happen.

You finish getting ready and get into the car with him, he’s showering you with compliments the whole way. When he stops the car something is off, this is not a restaurant, in the dark you can’t really make out where you are but it seems familiar.

He gets out of the car, going around and opening the door for you, helping you get out. He walks you to the entrance of the place and opens the door that you now have recognized to be the library you two loved and also the place we’re he finally asked you out on a date after years of secretly-not-so-secretly being in love with you. Only now, there was a small round table there, with lit candles and a table set for two.

The shock made you not realize that Spencer had now let go of your hand, as you look to your side, you're met with your boyfriend down on one knee and a small velvet box in his hand.

“Honey, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. You’ve been my best friend, the best thing that ever happened to me, you make all the crazy stuff we go through easier, because we’re goin through it together. There’s no one I would rather live life with than you, so will you marry me?”

“Spencer..” That’s the only thing you manage to say, shocked and feeling a kind of happiness you never experienced before. “Of course I will. Oh my god I love you so much” You say, pulling on his arm so he stands up and you kiss him deeply. Feeling an amount of love you never thought was possible.

Once you pull away, he places the delicate ring on your hand and kisses you again. And all you can think is how you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

[uniquexusposts]

A false music degree | L. Hamilton

Summary: Lewis, Y/n and friends were having a game night. Lewis and Y/n didn't know they are in love, but their friends knew.

The living room was alive with noise, half-empty snack bowls scattered across the table, and a pile of game cards thrown haphazardly to the side. It was the kind of chaos that made the evening feel like a scene straight out of a sitcom, everyone laughing, chatting, and trying to beat each other at a game of Hitster. There were six of them in total, and once again, Lewis and Y/n found themselves ‘accidentally’ teamed up.

“This is a terrible idea,” one of their friends muttered as they shuffled the cards, clearly not impressed by the duo’s earlier antics.

“Why? We make an excellent team,” Lewis said confidently, nudging Y/n’s knee with his own under the table, a casual gesture that had somehow become their default.

Y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed but secretly enjoying the camaraderie. “We lost the last two rounds,” she reminded him, trying to focus on the game rather than the persistent, annoying warmth she felt from his touch.

“Yeah, but we lost with style,” he shot back, his grin so wide and easy that it was almost impossible to resist.

Their friends exchanged knowing glances but remained quiet. Everyone in the room had witnessed it; the constant, subtle way Lewis and Y/n acted as if they weren’t fully aware of the chemistry between them. Like they did for the past two years. It was impossible to ignore how they seemed to end up next to each other in every game, every conversation, and how they always exchanged those little looks that spoke volumes.

“Alright, next song,” their friend finally announced, pulling a card from the deck. The music immediately started, an old-school R&B hit that no one could resist grooving to.

Lewis snapped his fingers, instantly recognising the tune. “Oh, oh, I know this one!” He turned to Y/n, as if this was the moment they’d been waiting for. “C’mon, tell me you know this.”

Y/n squinted at the phone playing the song, her brow furrowed. “I do, but… oh my god, I have no clue when it came out.” She wasn’t even sure what year this song belonged to, but there was no way she was admitting that. “I mean, was I even born? And how old would I be then?”

“You’re killing me, Y/n,” Lewis groaned dramatically, throwing himself back in his chair with exaggerated frustration.

“Hey, I thought you were the music expert!” she retorted, giving him a playful shove.

“I am, but I need teamwork, woman,” Lewis said, laughing.

The whole room seemed to stop as they leaned in closer to one another. Heads bent together, whispering possible years back and forth, exchanging guesses like they were solving a world-class mystery. It was a moment of absolute focus. Their knees, pressed against each other, a shared space that neither of them seemed inclined to move away from. Lewis’s hand rested on Y/n’s arm, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on her skin as they tried to figure out the song.

The rest of the group exchanged another round of looks, eyes widening at the pair’s unspoken connection. It wasn’t lost on anyone that their friends were now sitting at a front-row seat to what felt like the most painfully obvious romantic chemistry.

“You two done flirting or?” one of them finally muttered under their breath, the teasing tone clear, but neither Lewis nor Y/n heard it.

“2004,” Y/n blurted out, proud of herself for making a guess. “I think.”

Lewis gasped dramatically. “That’s so wrong.” He shook his head as though it was the most absurd guess possible.

“Well, what’s your guess, genius?” she challenged, already preparing for him to overestimate his own musical prowess.

“2002,” he said confidently.

Their friend flipped the card over. 2003.

The entire group erupted into laughter as Lewis and Y/n stared at each other in horror.

“I hate us,” Y/n groaned, slumping into the couch, her face burning from the embarrassment.

“I love us,” Lewis corrected, his arm casually draping over her shoulders without a second thought.

The room went eerily quiet at that, the playful atmosphere evaporating like water under the sun. The words were out there, hanging in the air like an unexpected confession. It was the kind of thing that people noticed, and yet Lewis and Y/n just stared at each other, unable to break the sudden weight that filled the space.

It took Y/n exactly three seconds to notice the heavy weight of Lewis’s arm around her. It wasn’t like it was the first time, but this time felt different. Her throat went dry, and she cleared it, eyes darting to the others in the room as she tried to find her voice.

“Uh,” she said, fidgeting awkwardly, suddenly too aware of how close they were.

Lewis blinked, glancing at his hand like he had no idea how it ended up there. His eyes flickered back to hers, his lips twitching as if he were about to say something, but nothing came out. He was equally speechless.

And then, like the complete idiots they were, they just… moved on. Pretended nothing happened. The awkward silence was quickly covered by a forced chuckle, and they picked up the next card as if nothing had shifted between them.

The game continued, but the atmosphere had undeniably changed. It wasn’t just about the playful banter anymore; it was about the unspoken tension that hung in the air, thick and undeniable. Every word between them felt charged, every glance seemed heavier, and every touch lingered just a little too long.

“So, uh, next round?” one of their friends said, clearly trying to steer the group back to normalcy.

Y/n forced a grin, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had suddenly settled over her. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this.”

But even as she reached for the next card, she couldn’t help but notice the small thrill that ran through her when Lewis’s knee bumped hers under the table. It was a casual gesture, something he’d done a hundred times without thinking, but this time, it felt like electricity. She quickly looked up at him from the corner of her eye. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about it that made her heart beat faster.

Another song played, and this time, their friend shot them a pointed look. “You two better get this one right. If not, I’m kicking you off the team.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me,” their friend teased, clearly not taking them seriously.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the sound escaping before she could stop it. “Alright, alright. No pressure.”

The familiar energy of the game took over again, but this time, something was different. They both leaned in closer than they probably should have. Every instinct told them they were being ridiculous, but the way they were so easily in sync, even when they were wrong, kept pulling them closer.

“I got this,” Lewis muttered, tapping his fingers on the table, clearly pleased with his guess.

Y/n smirked. “Are you sure? You were so confident last time.”

His grin widened. “Trust me. 2010.”

Y/n paused for a moment. “2010?” She shook her head. “No way. It’s older than that.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, watching her with that same knowing look he always had. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Y/n insisted, voice laced with mock seriousness. “I’m saying 2009.”

Their friend flipped the card over. “2008.”

“You are sacked,” Y/n emotionlessly said. “Contract not extended.”

A collective groan echoed around the room, and the laughter that followed was inevitable. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. It was about them; about the way they were constantly in sync, even when they didn’t want to be.

“I’m starting to think we’re just here for the comedy,” Y/n muttered, burying her face in her hands.

Lewis, on the other hand, looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, we’re a great team, whether we win or lose.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? The way they worked so well together, how they were constantly in sync without even trying. They had always joked about it, pretending it didn’t matter, pretending they weren’t the slightest bit affected by it. But now, in the quiet aftermath of their last game, it felt like they were lying to themselves.

Their friends, of course, weren’t fooled for a second.

“You know, we’re not blind,” one of them finally said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone. “You two are, like, a walking rom-com at this point.”

Y/n’s face turned bright red, and she quickly glanced over at Lewis, who suddenly found the table to be incredibly interesting.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a laugh.

Lewis shrugged innocently, his grin widening. “Hey, we’ve got chemistry. That’s all that matters, right?”

And as much as Y/n wanted to protest, as much as she wanted to deny that anything was happening, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest at the way he said it. Maybe they were just two idiots playing a game. Maybe they were just a couple of people who liked each other in their own messed-up way.

But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

And so did he.

The problem was, neither of them was brave enough to admit it yet.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 10

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Wanda loses her virginity to the most eligible bachelorette in America.

content warnings: smut, cunnilingus, fingering

word count: 4.2k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Natasha is still. Too still. And quiet. 

With her heart pounding, Wanda sets her wine glass down, her stomach dropping. Her fingers shakily trace the edge of her plate, her mind racing as she tries to think of a way to take back the words she just uttered.

“I apologize,” Natasha begins, and Wanda’s head shoots up so quickly that she feels a muscle in her neck strain from the force. “For my silence. I’m just… surprised.”

Those dark green eyes are focused on her, and Wanda practically holds her breath, her mind racing. “Surprised?”

“Well yes,” Natasha smiles slightly, her eyes slowly trailing down Wanda’s top, lingering slightly before her eyes snap back up. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Wanda.”

She doesn’t elaborate, simply draining the last of her wine before standing. Her steps are confident, her hand outstretched as she walks around the table to stand at Wanda’s side. When Wanda looks up, she notices the way Natasha’s pupils have dilated, the barest hint of dark green around them. 

Taking the older woman’s hand, a brave move that Wanda barely even had the wits to think about, she stands. 

“I would be honored to be your first,” Natasha murmurs.

Oh god, it's so sweet and so cliche, but Wanda doesn’t really care. This feels like a scene straight out of one of Kate’s raunchy romance books that Wanda secretly likes to read. Normally, she would have to imagine that the handsome, older man with a dark past in the book is actually a woman, but now the scene is playing out before her very eyes. She doesn’t quite know how to react. 

“I would like that,” Wanda whispers, feeling Natasha’s hand squeeze hers gently before the older woman turns and starts walking down the hallway. This one is a different one, not leading towards the playroom, like Wanda had been expecting. She focuses on the hand wrapped around hers, the strong fingers guiding her as they walk in silence. 

Natasha stops in front of a door, the dark mahogany framing her red hair as she turns and faces Wanda. Timidly, Wanda looks up, finding nothing but softness in those eyes as Natasha brings a hand up to cup her face. 

“You can leave at any time, alright? I want you to feel comfortable with me, so tell me if you don’t like something or want me to stop.”

Smiling, Wanda feels relief course through her. She would say that Natasha is adorable, with her slightly rambling sentences and the way her eyes are earnest and kind. But, the slightly possessive grip of the older woman's fingers against her cheek says otherwise. Wanda doesn’t mind, her brain turning to mush as she feels her body relax, her heart rate quickening again, but this time, not from nervousness. 

“I understand,” Wanda murmurs, stepping forward into the woman’s space, loving the way her cinnamon scent wraps fully around her. She hears Natasha’s breath hitch and smiles slightly, emboldened. “I want this. I… I want you.”

Wanda never understood what authors meant when they said that a character’s eyes darkened. But in every sense of the word, Natasha’s did. Her pupils dilated even further as she took a steadying breath, her other hand coming up to wrap around Wanda’s waist. The look in her eyes was intent, and Wanda felt as though a spotlight had just been thrust upon her, the woman’s attention solely focused on her.

“By the end of the night,” Natasha muttered, leaning in close enough that Wanda could feel her breath on her neck. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, and she shuddered as she felt Natasha’s teeth lightly bite down on her ear. “I will have you moaning my name until your voice gives out.”

Biting her lip, Wanda pulled back slightly to look at Natasha’s face. She pretended that she wasn’t affected, but her flushed cheeks were not fooling anybody. “So confident.” 

“I know what I want. And I always get it.”

“Open the door,” Wanda said, her voice breathy and full of want. She didn’t care. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, her mind emptying until the only thing she could think about was Natasha. She craved to have those hands wrapped around her waist, her throat, tangled in her hair. She needed her mouth on her skin, that wicked tongue gliding over her neck and down her chest until-

“Fuck,” Natasha groaned, her voice low and raspy. The hand around Wanda’s waist shifted until her fingers grasped the waist of her pants, pulling her inside the bedroom. 

Wanda didn’t have the chance to look around, the dim lighting hitting her eyes for a moment before the door shut solidly behind her, and strong hands pushed her against it. Her own limbs failed to respond, her hands hanging uselessly at her sides for a moment, before she came to her senses, reaching up and wrapping her arms around Natasha’s toned shoulders, pulling her in. 

Warm lips caressed hers, and Wanda didn’t think twice before she parted her lips slightly, letting Natasha’s tongue in. She focused on the woman, loving the way her hands wrapped around her waist, her body pressing against hers until Wanda was fully against the door. The older woman’s chest pressed into hers, her hips trapping Wanda’s as her thigh pressed solidify between her legs, and a soft whimper escaped Wanda as she sucked desperately on Natasha’s soft lips. 

“I’m trying to be gentle with you,” Natasha rasped out, breaking the kiss and moving her lips to Wanda’s neck. “But you’re not making that easy.”

Wanda attempts to respond, but the only thing her mouth does is let out a low whine. She’s never felt like this before. It feels like all her nerves have been set aflame, and she’s throbbing with need as Natasha sucks a hickey into her neck. The strong fingers pinning her waist against the door are driving her insane, and she lets out a pathetic-sounding gasp as she ruts her hips forward, the friction against Natasha’s thigh making her head spin.

“Do you want to be mine?”

Oh, what a question. Wanda nods with every ounce of strength that she has left, her eyes intent as she locks her gaze with Natasha’s.

“Say the words, Wanda.” Natasha’s tone is serious, her eyes glancing between Wanda’s blown pupils and her swollen, parted lips. Her fingers dig into the younger woman’s waist, holding her hips in place as she waits for a response. 

“Yes, please,” Wanda manages, her words breathy as she looks up at Natasha. She looks utterly ruined, her eyes half-lidded and her hips attempting to thrust against the strong thigh flexing between them. “I want to be yours, make me yours, Ms. Romanoff.”

A half-growl and half-moan claws its way from Natasha’s throat, and she grasps Wanda around the waist before spinning her around and pushing her towards the bed. The younger woman is easy to move, her body pliant and soft beneath Natasha’s strong fingers. A small gasp leaves her lips as the back of her knees hits the bed, and Natasha wastes no time capturing them in a searing kiss. 

Fuck, the woman is everywhere. Wanda can’t escape her, and she doesn’t really want to. Somehow, she’s moved to the center of the bed, her hips straddled by firm thighs as Natasha’s hands explore her body. Every touch is electrifying, adding to the fuzzy waves of pleasure clouding her mind. The lips on hers are somehow both gentle and aggressive, sharp teeth gently nipping at her bottom lip before soothing it with a strong tongue. The scent of cinnamon mixes with the thick scent of arousal that stifles the air around them, and Wanda can’t remember the last time she felt this desperate. 

“Please,” she manages, her voice a broken whimper. 

Natasha lets out a low groan, her lips moving from Wanda’s swollen lips to the sensitive skin of her neck, sucking harshly. “You should beg more often, it suits you.”

Wanda doesn’t really have a response to that, her mind turning to mush at the low, raspy quality of Natasha’s voice. She settles for a desperate sort of nod, thrusting her hips up slightly to relieve the pressure growing between her thighs. Her actions are stopped by Natasha’s body weight resting fully on her hips, but she doesn’t quite mind. 

Actually, she was quite enjoying the feeling of being trapped. 

“Are you really?” Natasha asks, and Wanda flushes. Shit, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The woman on top of her continues, her eyes glinting slightly, “We can explore that later, Wanda, for now, I’m intent on making your first time memorable.”

Wanda lets out something that sounds like “Oh!” and then promptly forgets how to speak as Natasha places a steady hand on her sternum, pushing her down until her back hits the soft mattress. The older woman's figure above her makes her head spin, arousal coursing through her as strong hands find her wrists and pin them next to her head. 

“Try to stay still for me, can you do that?”

Goddamn, if that isn’t the hottest thing Wanda’s ever been asked. She manages a nod, sure that her face is flushed and her eyes wide, but she doesn’t quite care. The feeling of Natasha Romanoff on top of her is overwhelming in the best way, and she’ll do anything to please the woman.

“Anything, hm?”

Fuck. 

Wanda starts to speak, to defend the words that have slipped out of her traitorous mouth, but a hand covers her mouth and muffles any attempted words. Natasha doesn’t say anything, just gives her a stern look. Wanda quiets, blinking up at the woman as she focuses on remaining still, her fingers twitching as her eyes lock on the fabric that Natasha is slowly pulling up to reveal a smooth stomach and chiseled abs. 

To say that Natasha Romanoff is beautiful would be an understatement. Wanda can’t stop looking at her, every inch of skin that’s revealed sending arousal flooding through her. She practically feels her heart stop when Natasha pulls her shirt fully off, the sight of her breasts underneath a lacy black bra sending Wanda’s mind straight into a fuzzy headspace of need and pure lust. 

She doesn’t even register her own hands moving until she’s cupping the woman’s chest, her thumbs caressing the fabric of Natasha’s bra in an almost reverent manner. It only lasts a brief, glorious moment, before her wrists are firmly grasped and slammed back onto the mattress. 

“Ah ah,” Natasha tuts, her fingers squeezing harder for a moment. Her eyes are dark, and Wanda feels a spark of terror and arousal run through her. “What did I say?”

“To stay still,” Wanda answers, the words spilling out of her. She feels almost compelled to answer the woman, obedience thrumming in her veins. She doesn’t fight the tight grip on her wrists, but the feeling of being restrained sends her senses into overdrive in the best way possible.  

“Then be a good girl and obey,” Natasha says, her voice leaving no room for argument. 

Wanda nods, biting her lip as Natasha squeezes her wrists one last time before releasing them, her hands trailing down her body while her muscles tense from the electrifying touch. She has to remind herself to breathe, the sensation of Natasha’s fingers against her stomach and hips making her lightheaded with need. 

Those long fingers flex as the hem of her shirt slowly slides up her stomach, revealing her muscles clenching with need as her hips try to move under Natasha’s firm thighs. She would be embarrassed, but the heat within her is rising to an unbearable level.

The look in Natasha’s eyes when she finally pulls Wanda’s shirt free is nothing short of lustful and wanting, her movements becoming slightly rough as she palms the younger woman’s breasts, squeezing gently as she coaxes pretty whines and moans from Wanda’s mouth. 

It’s intoxicating, to feel and hear the woman below her reacting to every movement. Wanda’s hips are still futilely rutting against her thighs, the barest sensation against her throbbing clit driving her mad. 

Wanda can barely think, Natasha’s hands on her breasts sending warm arousal flooding through her. She can’t control the movements of her hips, her body reacting to the older woman’s touch as soft moans sound out. 

“Oh, please,” she whines, her voice barely above a whisper. It causes the hands around her breasts to squeeze, strong fingers finding her nipples through the fabric of her bra and toying with them. 

“Fuck,” Natasha breathes, her tongue wetting her lips slightly as she looks down at Wanda. “How could I refuse when you beg so prettily for me?”

The slightly possessive words send Wanda’s mind into a soft, fuzzy mess. She finds herself longing to hear more words come out of the older woman’s mouth, a need rising within her to obey every command that slips out of those sinful lips. 

She doesn’t get the chance to ask, Natasha’s fingers sliding over her body and working every nerve until she can feel electricity shooting beneath her skin. Her clit is throbbing, her underwear damp as she bucks her hips desperately up against Natasha’s strong thighs. 

“Tell me what you want.”

Wanda makes a noise of protest at the words. She doesn’t know what she wants. She wants Natasha’s hands to never leave her body, and she wants her tongue to keep licking up the side of her neck, and she wants the woman to fuck her and get rid of the throbbing between her legs. But, she can’t quite find the words, so she just whines and gasps out, “Touch me.”

With a low chuckle, Natasha softly nips Wanda’s neck and finally moves her fingers to break Wanda’s waistband.

Long fingers softly cup her, the pressure driving Wanda mad. She bucks her hips, but Natasha simply adjusts her position, laying halfway on top of the woman and pinning one of her legs between her own. 

“Let me take this off,” Natasha murmurs, pressing soft kisses on Wanda’s sternum before lightly biting the fabric of her bra that cups her chest. She pulls it away with her teeth, waiting for Wanda’s permission.

“Mhmm,” Wanda murmurs, regaining some of her breath. The sensations against her heating body and the intense look in Natasha’s eyes make her head spin, so she closes her eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling of strong fingers undoing her bra. A small groan sounds out as the fabric falls away from her chest, and Wanda can’t help but smile, something in her soaring with happiness at the reaction. 

Teeth scrape lightly against her hard nipple, bolts of firey hot pleasure shooting through her body and pooling at her core. The woman seems enamored by her breasts, her tongue flicking over her nipples and sucking the tight nubs into her mouth, alternating every few minutes.

Wanda can barely stand it. She thinks she could cum from Natasha’s mouth and fingers working her breasts. Honestly, she’d never paid her chest much attention before, instead, she furiously worked sticky fingers over her clit while under the sheets, reading some trashy romance novel that was basically 130 pages of pure porn. Today was all about learning new things, she thought, her brain going blank again as Natasha teasingly bit into her nipple.

“Fuck,” Wanda moaned, not caring what she sounds like. “I need you to touch me, Natasha. Now.” 

“Oh, do you?”

The teasing tone set Wanda’s nerves aflame, her mind riddled with need as her clit throbbed desperately against the confines of her damp underwear. She was already close, the imminent orgasm drawing closer with each swipe of Natasha’s tongue and every twist of her fingers around Wanda’s sensitive nipples.

Something must have showed on her face, because Natasha quickly moved down, pressing quick kisses down Wanda’s stomach. She still took her time, removing Wanda’s pants and underwear from her wriggling hips, and kissing her inner thighs as she spread her legs. 

“You smell divine,” Natasha murmurs. Before Wanda can say anything in return, most likely some snarky remark about how the woman needed to start moving quicker, her tongue is dragging through her folds. 

Oh. God. 

Wanda cums the second Natasha’s strong, hot tongue passes over her clit. The older woman makes a surprised sound, which is quickly followed by a throaty moan, her hands moving to wrap around Wanda’s thighs. 

“Keep going,” Wanda gasps out, her hips grinding against Natasha’s face, her fingers gripping the sheets beside her. Warm pleasure grows, her clit almost painfully overstimulated, but she can feel Natasha’s tongue slowly working her towards another orgasm.

Two long fingers prod at her soaked entrance, circling and gathering the slick wetness before smoothly sliding in. Wanda can barely feel them, her pussy so wet the sensation barely registers. That is until Natasha curls them perfectly against her g-spot, a wave of pleasure sweeping through her violently.

“You… I-” Wanda manages, her tongue feeling thick as she pants. Low, muffled moans sound out from where Natasha is licking her clit, her fingers pumping in and out of Wanda. The vibrations add to the pleasure, her orgasm drawing near again.

“Are you going to cum?” Natasha asks, detaching her lips for a moment to ask. Her face is slightly flushed, her lips glistening as she looks at Wanda with blown pupils. She slows her fingers as she waits for a response, a slight smirk on her face.

“Yes.”

“Beg for permission.”

Wanda blinks, her mouth falling open at the command. That was… hotter than she would like to admit. She feels her pussy clench around Natasha’s fingers, and she feels herself flush at the knowing look in the older woman’s eyes.

“Um, please?”

Natasha makes a tutting sound, shaking her head slightly as an intense look appears in her eyes. “You can do better than that,” she murmurs, watching Wanda’s face as she moves her fingers quickly. She curls them with each rough thrust, coaxing her orgasm closer. “Go on, Wanda. I know you can do it.”

“God, please, Natasha,” Wanda bursts out, the words spewing as she desperately chases her orgasm. “I’ve wanted you ever since that first day I stumbled into your office. I wanted you to bend me over your desk right then, and I need you to keep moving your fingers. Please, let me cum, I’ve been horny practically nonstop since our first meeting, I need you to just please-”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, Natasha’s lips crashing down over hers and she murmurs her permission. Wanda can taste herself on the woman’s lips and tongue, and her mind goes blissfully blank as Natasha pumps rough and deep, bringing her orgasm to the surface quickly.

Pleasure washes over her, her pussy clamping down around Natasha’s fingers as she cums. It’s a full-body orgasm, her muscles clenching and releasing as she feels herself tremble from the force of it. Her legs are tight around Natasha’s waist, her fingers moving to tangle with the woman’s hair. Wanda can feel her eyes rolling back, her back arching as she feels her body convulse with pleasure, gibberish words, and moans streaming from her lips and into Natasha’s kiss. 

Those long fingers coax out every last drop of pleasure, Wanda’s clit giving one last pulse before she feels herself go boneless. Sinking into the mattress, she catches her breath, turning her head to look at Natasha. 

Dark green eyes gaze back at her, something intense about her gaze. Wanda doesn’t have the energy to think too hard about it, and her mind goes fuzzy again as Natasha slowly pulls her fingers out and brings them up to her lips.

“Suck,” she whispers, coating Wanda’s bottom lip with her own juices as she runs her fingers over it. 

Obeying, Wanda shamelessly sucks her arousal off Natasha’s fingers. She swirls her tongue around them and sucks, enjoying the hitch in the older woman’s breath when she does so. 

Pulling her fingers from Wanda’s mouth, Natasha reclaims her lips in a gentle kiss. It’s not as rough as before, but no less intense. She moves as they kiss, maneuvering Wanda until her head is propped up by pillows, laying half on top of Natasha as her hand rests on the woman’s stomach. The kiss ends slowly, Wanda’s eyes beginning to close of their own accord. 

“Do you want me to-” Wanda weakly gestures toward Natasha’s waistband.

The older woman chuckles, pressing a kiss against the top of Wanda’s head. “No, Wanda. Tonight was solely about you. There will be plenty of other opportunities for you to make me feel good.”

Smiling, Wanda feels her body relax completely, practically melting against the older woman’s comforting heat. She feels a pleasant buzz throughout her body, her face still flushed even as her heart rate slows. She tries to say something, her lips moving silently against the soft skin of Natasha’s collarbone. 

“Sleep, Wanda,” Natasha murmurs, pulling a thin sheet over them. Her fingers brush over Wanda’s cheek, tucking auburn hair behind her ear. “You were amazing, and I loved every second of tonight. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

Wanda doesn’t hear much after that, her tired body finally succumbing as she drifts off. 

—

When Wanda wakes, the room is dark, a soft, warm glow of light creeping through the crack underneath the bedroom door. She blinks, her mind still fuzzy and content as the afterglow lingers. She has no idea how long she’s slept, her fingers grabbing the thick fabric of a bathrobe conveniently placed at the foot of the bed. Through the crack in the curtains, Wanda can see the barest hint of light, a sign that dawn is approaching.

The soft sounds of piano soar through the air, the notes almost melancholic in nature. Wanda tilts her head, tying the bathrobe securely around her waist before gently pushing the door open and padding down the hall.

Natasha is bent over the piano, a single, dim lamp softly illuminating her red hair. Wanda can just barely see the curve of her jaw, her attention captured by the steady fingers flying across the keyboard. 

Somehow, they manage to draw emotion out with each note. Sadness lingers in the corners of the room, amplified with each note Natasha plays, her keys performing a somber dance. Wanda wonders what exactly the woman is thinking about as she plays, not a single sheet of music in front of her, only the smooth expanse of mahogany wood and ivory keys. 

The music stops, and Wanda jolts as she realizes her presence has been noticed.

“Sorry,” she whispers, seeing the barest hint of a frown flit across Natasha’s tired features. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Perhaps I should be the one saying that to you,” Natasha responds, a wry smile gracing her features as she wipes her hands on her soft sweatpants. She stands, every movement graceful as she does so. Wanda can’t help but notice the way her pants hang slightly off her hips, a hint of her smooth stomach and abs showing as she walks towards her. 

“Are you… alright?” Natasha asks, concern softening the sharp features of her face as she walks towards her.

Wanda flushes, thinking about the bone-deep ache making its way through her body, evidence of their activities earlier that evening. She finds herself nodding, her fingers running nervously over the tie of her bathrobe.

“Are you sure that you…” Wanda trails off, biting her lips momentarily before she sees the hungry look appear in Natasha’s eyes at the action. “Did you have a good time?”

A small smile makes its way onto Natasha’s face, and she reaches out an arm to wrap around Wanda’s waist as she nears. “Yes, Wanda. I had a good time,” she whispers, pulling the younger woman close. Her fingers cup Wanda’s waist, her other hand tangling with Wanda’s, their fingers intertwined as she kisses her knuckles. “It was everything I imagined you’d be like, and more. I can’t fathom ever tiring of you.”

Well. That’s the most romantic thing Wanda has ever heard in her life, and she blushes hotly, her words jumbling together as she attempts to form a sentence. 

Natasha chuckles, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss against her lips. “Come,” she murmurs, pulling Wanda back down the hallway, her thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “How about we cuddle until morning, and then I’ll make you whatever breakfast you’d like.”

“You can cook?” Wanda asks, mid-yawn. Her comment earns a light jab in her side, and she fails at hiding her smirk at the reaction from the normally composed woman.

“I can do many things, Wanda,” Natasha says, a slight smirk on her lips that tells Wanda exactly what the older woman is implying. She takes a deep breath, fighting her rising blush as they walk back into the bedroom, Natasha pulling her into her side as they slide under the sheets. Their limbs entangle, their bodies pressed close together as Natasha presses a soft kiss against Wanda’s head, the younger woman’s eyes already closing again, drifting off to sleep as she feels Natasha’s lips move against her.

“I could get used to this.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

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[ozuuoou]

⟡⋆.˚˚₊‧꒰ა ⋆｡°⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Itoshi Rin x Reader

Post argument fluff

———————————————————————————————————————

"Why are you so clingy? Get lost, disappear for all I care."

Those were the last words you heard before your fiancé walked out of your shared home, heading to who knows where.

⋆.˚˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚⊹ ࣪ ˖

Hearing those sharp words made you feel as if your heart was stabbed a million times. As a result, you chose to sleep on the couch.

As you lay on the couch, engulfed by the dim light of the living room, you couldn't stop the tears from bursting right through your eyes. The scene replaying over and over again made it hurt more than it already did.

To avoid thinking about it more, a decision was made: to sleep. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you hear the front door open and shut, along with the light pads that came from your fiancé seemingly getting closer and closer to where you're at. Not wanting to pay it any mind, you pretended to sleep. Until you feel a pair of eyes staring at you from behind. You were bothered, of course, but chose to close your eyes nonetheless.

A cold gust of wind flew by in the moment of silence until you felt the cushion of the couch dip lower and a pair of hands wrap around you. Surprised, you turned around. "Rin?" you asked. "You sh-" Just as you were about to speak again, you were cut off. "Why sleep here?" Everything went silent for a minute. "I figured I'd sleep here, for space" you replied, hearing this made the teal-eyed man feel more guilty, making him tighten his grip on your waist a bit more.

"You shouldn't be sleeping here. Go to bed; you have a big day tomorrow, remember?" you added, hoping to shake him off. Another wave of silence. After about a minute, he spoke, "Are you still mad? I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of those things. I was just tired and frustrated..." His voice was shaky as he buried his face more into the crook of your neck. "It's okay. I know I can be overly clingy at times. I was just so excited to finally spend time with you, but I guess I overreacted," hearing that reply broke him more, as if you're blaming yourself for something that's his fault. "Now, go to bed; you have to wake up early." He felt that you were uncomfortable, so he unlatched himself and walked away, leaving you alone in the dim room.

After changing his clothes, he went and got ready for bed, and fuck, was it cold and lonely. "So this is what it's like," he mumbled as he laid down on the cold bed, looking at your spot where it lies cold and empty. Seeing that horrid view made his heart drop to his stomach. Hours passed by as he twisted and turned, trying every possible way to make himself fall asleep. From turning the lamp on and off to making pillow figures of what is assumed to be you (creepy, but let's face it, bro's coping), and unfortunately, none worked. Oh my god, he felt like a Victorian kid dying from a severe illness, laid down on the bed, huffing and sweating with worry. Not wanting to put up with this feeling, he marched downstairs to where you were sleeping, and man, he didn't even spare a second as he immediately jumped to cuddle you, arms around your waist with his head nuzzled in your chest and neck and all. "Goddamn, this is way better," he screamed, mentally, as he inhaled your scent that he oh so missed.

With all the shuffling around, you wake up, feeling a figure trapping you. Readjusting your eyes to the surroundings, you look down to see Rin all snuggled up next to you. You tap his shoulder. "Why are you here? I told you to sleep on the bed..." you say, groggily. To which he replies, "I just can't sleep... I know you're upset, but please, let me sleep with you," as he looks up, his face all teary. "I'm sorry, please don't avoid me... I'll do better. I swear," he adds, tightening his hold around your waist.

Unable to resist such a cute face, you sighed, cupping his face as you peppered kisses on his poor face. "You promise?" you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper. "Mhm, I promise," he replied, leaning into your touch. "Do you want to go on a date tomorrow," he added. I'd love to, baby, but you're busy tomorrow." "Skipping practice for a day won't hurt," he chuckled. You responded with a hum as you pressed yourself more, burying his face into your neck and chest, to which he let his hands roam under your clothes, rubbing circles on your back while the other sneakily fondled your ass. You chuckled at the response. "How about a little café date after we go grocery shopping?" you asked, and he replied with a muffled hum.

He peeked his head. "We're good now, right?" he asked. "Yeah, we're all good now, baby," to which he smiled and added, "I love you." You replied with the sweetest, "I love you too." Upon hearing that, he nuzzled right back into your chest.

⋆.˚˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚⊹ ࣪ ˖

Guess who'll be walking on the produce isle with a big smile on his face? Definitely a man named Itoshi Rin.

[mayaflowerxs]

BABY MAKING

Synopsis: What was meant to be a quick shopping trip to Target ends in you and your husband trying for a second baby.

Warning: Fluff / Humorish / Smut. Swear word usage, Est. Couple, Father!Jaehyun, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, and more!

A/N: Here’s a little something while I finish the requests sorry it’s taking a while, anyways enjoy! :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem reader

Your parents had insisted on looking over your daughter which you didn’t hesitate to agree. You had to admit, you love your daughter a blessing really but it’s gotten a point in your life where you just need that fresh breath of air. Even if it means your time be spent running errands. Much like you, your husband was on the same page. Endless nights from both work and parenting takes a toll on a person. The eye bags on both yours and his face have gotten visibly deeper along with the noticeable fatigue. And as you drop off your daughter with one last kiss to her adorable little head, the two of you were off.

Target. The store where there’s practically everything one could possibly need. You enter wearing baggy sweats and lose t-shirt. Hair in a messy bun as you start looking over your grocery list, for the lack of time the list has gotten rather long. Jaehyun by your side as he took the responsibility in maneuvering the cart. “Eggs, Milk, Diapers, Paper Towels…” as the two of you go aisle by aisle you felt yourself at ease for the time being. For a while it seemed like it was only you two. Just how it was only a year ago. It still feels odd to think you’re a mother now. Staring down at your hand and seeing the pearly white Diamond glimmering on your ring finger, shifting your eyes and seeing Jaehyun’s as well. Feeling his elbow nudge you, you look up at him. A soft smile on his face as he tilts his head at you. “You okay? You kinda spaced out on me.” Chuckling lightly you nod, “I’m good. You got the formula?” “Right here. Oh look they have my socks I wear.” Letting him walk off to inspect the aisle of socks, you check off the formula on your list. Waiting for your husband to choose a pair of socks took quite a while, too long you might say. And just before you’re about ready to hurry him up you hear the cry of a baby behind you.

Turning and seeing a mother had been strolling by, picking up her son as she consoles him. You can’t help but smile at the scene, until you stopped. With wide eyes, you turn to face your husband. “Jae gimme your hoodie.” Not turning to face you he responds, “Baby didn’t I say to bring a sweater? I told you it was gonna be cold.” He snorts wincing when you leave a rather hard smack on his bicep. Looking back, his eyes widen when he sees you clenching your chest. “Are you…?” “Yes Jae, I’m lactating!” The sound of a baby’s cry has left a wet patch on your through your shirt.

Yay on motherhood.

Quick to take his hoodie off, he covers you from any passerby’s. “Can’t believe this is happening.” Hearing Jaehyun chuckle, you send him a glare as you are left uncomfortably soaked. “Lets just get the rest of the groceries and get out of here.” You tell him annoyedly, and without another word he grabs his socks and quickly puts it in the cart.

With every passing second spent in Target was just another second your poor breasts were being filled with milk. And as the thought came in, the realization settled. “God I forgot the breast pump is broken.” You say, “It’s alright we can go grab another it’ll be the last thing before checking out.” Nodding the two of you make your way out. About to enter the aisle you’re forcibly knocked into another person walking out in a hurry. Clutching your chest in pain by the sudden pressure. “Excuse you!” Jaehyun shouts when he sees the woman simply walk by without even acknowledging your presence. Rolling his eyes at her, his irritated expression changes immediately of one of worry. “You okay baby?” Out of words to say from the pain you simply nod and wave him off. Instead you merely point at the breast pump. “Right.” Grabbing it and putting it in the cart, he wraps an arm around your waist and helps you move. By the time the two of you made it outside, you didn’t wait for Jaehyun and instead grabbed the box with the pump and ran straight to the passengers seat.

A grin on his face as he watched you, wearing slides and holding your chest as you struggled to open the door, looking up at him and seeing he had the keys held up for you to see. “Open it!” He hears you yell in which he snorts and does so. By the time he’s done filling the trunk with the grocery bags, he gets in and sees you almost filling a bottle full of breast milk. “Did not think it’d get swollen so quickly.” You moan in pain as you try to massage the tender breast. Sending you a sympathetic smile he leans in and kisses you. “Love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “Yeah yeah-“ You say trying to not put much attention to the obvious heat your face was getting from his words. Years later and still he had you a blushing mess. Hearing him laugh, he leans further and presses a kiss on your boob. Buckling in, he turns on the ignition and looks over at you. “Want Starbucks? Heard it’s okay to have a bit of caffeine while breast feeding…I can even get you a cake pop.” Looking at him, you contemplate it for a bit before nodding. Smiling, he rests a hand on your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze before backing out of the parking lot.

By the time you’re in the drive thru and waiting in the long line of cars, Jaehyun can’t help but revert his eyes over at you. The pumping is rather loud and after a while it’s gotten annoying with his hoodie constantly in the way so you pushed it up and now have your entire chest out in the open. Thank god for the tinted windows you managed to convince him to get. Swallowing as he bounces his leg quicker than ever. “Geez what’s gotten you so fidgety?” You joke at him, completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. Missing the hard gulp he takes, he doesn’t have time to respond to you before he’s having to drive forward and roll his window down. The man about to read him his bill, gets his words caught in his throat when he noticed you. Jaehyun whips his head around and grabs his hoodie and tugs it down. A whine escapes you as it caused the bottle to tip and have some of the milk spill.

“Jae-“ Face palming when you see the poor boy’s face red and hot you look down. Resting a hand on the arm rest covering your view of him. “Sorry about that.” Jaehyun can merely say before handing him his card. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the cashier mutters out a low, ‘it’s okay’ before swiping the card.

“You could have at least warned me.” You tell him the second the window is up and getting out of the drive thru. “I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking how could I?” “What, are you saying my breasts are too distracting?” You ask him as you take a bite out of your cake pop. He goes to respond but is cut off when you groan in pain again. “God I don’t understand how my girls can work so fast. I’m already full again!” Hearing the sound of the pump again, Jaehyun takes a quick glance over and seeing your breasts were out in the open again. Feeling the familiar tightness in his pants he shifts in his seat uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Babe I know it’s something out of your control but-“ he barely manages to get out as his hand grips on the steering wheel, his other on your thigh riding higher up your leg.

“Oh my god are you seriously turned on right now?” You say surprisingly. “Can you blame me? You know I’m a titties man.” Slapping his chest, he smirks and glances over at you briefly. “Gosh when aren’t you horny?” “Hey I didn’t see you complaining the night our daughter was conceived.” Mouth slightly parted you squint your eyes at him. “My period was close to kicking in, my hormones were running high.” “Yeah,” he scoffs. “Hormones alright let’s blame it on that.” He finishes while trailing higher until they rest on top of your clothed cunt. Gasping, you grip his wrist. “Still sensitive as always, shall I blame that on the hormones as well?”

Smirking when he sees you spread your legs he begins to rub circles. A small moan falls off your lips, “Of course I’m sensitive, I did just shit out a baby a few months ago.” “Birthed babe, you birthed our daughter.”

“Yeah well when you’re in a state of pure agony you no longer give a shit if you were constipated or giving birth either way, you’re being ripped apart regardless.”

Lifting your hand, he takes it up to his lips and presses a kiss. “And I’m so proud of you for that. I don’t say it enough but you really are so strong and admirable, I could never and it’s why I love you so much.” Sending him a soft smile, you pick up your drink and take a sip of it. For a while it was silent the car ride home, and it isn’t until you’re only a block away does he speak up.

“I’m still horny by the way.”

The groceries go ignored the second Jaehyun parks in the drive way. Carrying you inside the empty house his focus is on you. Sliding his tongue in your mouth as you run your hands through his hair. Setting you on to the closest furniture, the couch. He begins to take off his shirt. Tossing it aside as he leans back in to attach his lips with yours. Large hands roaming up your stomach, lifting your shirt to trace the beautiful stretch marks he’s fallen in love with. A memory of when you were pregnant with his daughter. Finding his way to your breasts where you let out a loud moan the second he punches your nipples. Trailing gentle kisses on them and feeling himself get harder when he notices a small streak of your milk fall down your chest. The tightness in his jeans is painful, and his grunts are heard throughout the house the second your hand is placed on top of his bulge.

“Please baby.” “What is it my love?” He curls a finger underneath your chin and tilts his head. “Mhm?” “Let me make you feel good.” Pupils dark and dilated, he finds no reason to object. Standing up and unbuckling his belt, he hissed when the cool air hits his hard cock. Soft hands fisting him as you kitten lick him. Too slow for his taste, and so he grabs your chin and gets you to open. Grabbing his dick and propping it in your mouth. “Good girl.” He groans when he feels your tongue salivate him. Taking him deeper and quickening your pace. Bobbing your head as you gag every now and then. Music to his hears, enamored with your beautiful eyes that look up at him for approval. “Taking me so well, keep sucking pretty girl.” Fisting your hair in his hold his breathing becomes uneven the sloppier you suck him. Pulling away and a long stripe of your saliva connecting you to him. He’s red and veiny and it only makes you want to keep sucking him more. Until he’s completely empty. Jaehyun was right, hormones wasn’t the reason why you yearned for him so much. You being on your period wasn’t why you got pregnant. You got pregnant because you want him, everyday. A man so appealing like him is impossible to not be attracted.

The man standing before you yearns for you just as much. Seeing you on your knees taking his big cock is enough to fuck you with his babies any time of the day. With how sex craved the two of you are, he’s surprised it took you guys this long to finally get pregnant. The slurps and gargles are heard bouncing off the walls, grunts and groans coming from your husband add on to it. His abs are clenched when he feels the familiar feeling beginning to form. Throwing his head back, he starts fucking your throat. With need and desperation he’s trying to find his climax. “Shit!” He can’t help but swear when you suck in your cheeks. The tightness around his dick, your warm mouth and talented tongue is enough to throw him over the edge. He feels himself explode in your mouth, shooting it all down your throat. Shivers coursing throughout his skin when he feels you hum on his dick. Watching you swallow every single drop. A small twinkle in your eyes as a bit of his cum falls from the crevice of your mouth. Leaning in to kiss you, he tastes the saltiness of himself. “Not done with you yet.” He murmurs on top of your lips.

He was right. For the time your parents had your daughter, Jaehyun took it as an opportunity to get back some husband and wife bonding time. He missed your touch, and even though the cuddling and make outs are just as good he still craved you. Seeing you pumping milk did things to him and even though it pained him to see you in labor tired and in pain it only made him want to love you a thousand times more. Your round belly and the after glow of postpartum birth, he feels like a dog thinking this way but he can’t help but want to fuck another baby in you. So soon but he wants to, needs to.

The two of you always spoke of how many kids you’d want and even though Jaehyun was the one who wanted a big family in comparison to you, the two of you agreed you at least wanted the kids to be close in age. Which is why he has no problem getting you nice and spread on the kitchen counter. Not caring you were in the middle of putting away the milk you had just pumped, and instead focuses on making you come over and over again with his tongue. Get you nice and soak so you’re ready to take him for countless rounds it takes to get you nice and stuffed. “Jae!” You hiccup, he doesn’t remove his mouth. He doesn’t even flinch, instead he buries his face further into your pussy. Eating you like a starved man and grunting each time your nails tugged a little too hard on his hair. “Baby it’s too much!” You throw your head back on the table. Completely naked for him just the way he likes it, hickies left all over your skin trailing them down to your sensitive pussy where your legs are trying their hardest not to close. Your husband’s large hands keeping them spread as he spits on your clit before diving right back in.

Your breath hitches as you shake in his hold. Another orgasm is ripped out of you, tears falling down your face. Jaehyun can feel you throbbing on his tongue, your sweet juices hitting his tastebuds. Finally, he pulls away. A shimmer around his mouth as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table. Leaning in to press a firm kiss on your lips, muffling the loud moan of yours when he forced himself inside you. No matter how much scissoring and tongue fucking he’s done you simply refuse to get used to his size. Your husband’s too big and it’s what drives you into subspace. He knows that, which is why he fucks you for hours if he really wanted to. Until he sees your pretty tears and face lost in pure bliss does he let up. Your husband has insane stamina, he can go for so long without ever climaxing. That’s unless you blow him, then he turns putty for you.

“So big!” You gasp out, eyes shut but Jaehyun doesn’t like that. No, you can’t lose yourself right now. He needs your eyes on him, to see how beautifully connected you two are. How well you take him, tapping your cheek he presses a soft kiss on your cheekbone. “Open those pretty eyes for me mama.” Mewling, he doesn’t give you time to disobey him. Lightly slapping the side of your face to get you to look at him and when you do he can’t help but grin. You looked ethereal in your current position, seeing you shining in sweat, chest covered in his love marks and lips swollen he can practically go feral for you. So he does. Gripping your legs and hovering them over your hips he begins to ram into you. The claps much louder along with your moans. Breath hitching each time he hits your gspot, your hands quick to grab onto his forearm digging your nails into his skin. Giving him space to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. His favorite place to stuff his face in second to stuffing it in your sopping pussy.

You feel his hot tongue running up your neck, shivering at the sensation especially when your husband doesn’t show signs in slowing down. Your walls gripping him tightly the harder he pounds into you. It felt good, so good your eyes began to tear up. Squelches were heard as your stomach kept clenching. When he pulls away, his hair is in the way. His eyes slightly covered, looking down he lets out a loud grunt upon seeing the prominent bump near your lower abdomen. “Where you feel me?” He huskily asks. “So deep!” Grabbing your hand, he leads it down to your stomach and has it lying on top of the print of his tip. “Feel me here baby?” “Yes!” Throwing your head back when he stops his movement to focus on thrusting further. “How about now?”

You couldn’t answer, you felt full and pure bliss. And as much as you’d like to indulge in the pleasure, your husband has a need for you to remind him how good he makes you feel. “Answer me.” “God I feel you in my stomach Jae!” It’s all he wanted to hear to get back to fucking you. Plunging in and out, quick motions before he pulls out and turns you around. Despite the insane amount lust he has, he takes the time to grab a pillow and rest it under your hip. Gentle to pull your hair away from your face and use it as leverage when he goes back to ramming inside you.

“I’m so close!” He’s gone silent, and you know once he is it means he too is close. And as the two of you are hitting your climax, you’ll soon come to find out this won’t be the last of it today.

Your parents are meant to drop your daughter off soon, in an hour precisely when the clock strikes 9 but Jaehyun wasn’t worried. He’s taken the initiative to have sex with you on all the surface inside the house. He can’t quite explain where this sudden horniness came from, maybe the breast pumping truly was a turn on for him and he just now acted upon it. It only took about half up to an hour before Jaehyun attached himself back on you. Wrapping his arms, pressing heated kisses to the nape of your neck, rubbing his groin up against your ass before he bends you over whatever surface nearest to you. By the time night came, your and his hair looked completely disheveled along with bruised lips. Necks covered in dark colors and both reeking of sex.

Couch, bed, kitchen counter, wall, door it was endless and he was sure he had gotten you pregnant by now. You guys went at it like a bunch of bunnies no way he didn’t knock you up. And as he lied on the bed watching you get ready to shower, the thought of you wet and naked had him getting hard again. Not even uttering a single word before he follows you in. “Excuse me?” Not responding, he closes the door and begins to take off his shirt. Revealing his toned chest to be covered in scratch marks, fainted lipstick and hickies. “One more won’t hurt right?” He raises a brow and smiles mischievously. “Are you trying to impregnate me with twins or something?” Shrugging, he picks you up and settles you on the counter. Pressing his lips on top of yours, he helps take off your oversized tee. “Would it be so bad?”

Giggling, you open your legs to let him fit right between them. Seeing his eyes darken as he leans in to start fondling with your breasts. Gasping when you feel yourself starting to lactate. “Jae!” Holding you still he continues to suck. Your tits were sensitive, you couldn’t hold still but this never faltered the man in front of you. Instead he grew determined and as he tastes your sweet milk he knew, there was absolutely no way he could wait who knows how many days before he can have you to himself again. Play with you as much as his heart desires. So, with reluctance he pulls away. Watching a few drops fall on your stomach. Leaning in to lick it up, you feel yourself begin to get excessively wet again. Playing with his soft hair, your intrusive thoughts wanting you to simply push his head a bit further to where you most need him.

“Be right back, need to make a call. Get in while I do that.” He says hurriedly. Curling a finger around your chin, he pulls you in for another wet sloppy kiss before walking out the bathroom. With a huff, you do as told and get into the shower. And while the bathroom steamed up, waiting impatiently for your husband to return and fuck you. Jaehyun quickly picked up his phone and dialed the familiar phone number. One ring, two rings and on the third they picked up.

“Afternoon Mrs. Y/l/n, so sorry to bother but something came up and I don’t think we’ll be home tonight. You wouldn’t mind if she stayed with you for the night right?”

[cherrycranes]

Claustrophobia (Edward Dillinger Jr. x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Edward Dillinger Jr x female reader Summary: What's worse than getting stuck in an elevator when you're claustrophobic? Being stuck in an elevator with your hot boss/work crush when you're claustrophobic! Word count: 5,141 Contents: Slight age gap (Reader is in her 20's, Edward is in his early 30's), only one use of Y/N, reader is claustrophobic, reader has a panic attack, virgin reader, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, pulling out, technically public sex. Edward asks for consent a lot. Author's notes: This is a collab with my dear @lauuren! She wrote the intro and the oral sex scene and I am in awe at her talent. I desperately want to spread the "stan Edward Dillinger Jr" agenda. I will not stop. There's a character playlist I made about him at the end of this fic. Please stan Edward Dillinger Jr, Lauren and I are all alone in this boat.

A quiet ding could be heard throughout an empty modern hallway of the ENCOM building, announcing that the elevator had just arrived at your floor. After both automatic doors had slid open, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips, your steps made their way inside the confined space of the machine.

Not only a second after, a loud confident stride joined you inside, just before the doors closed. You already knew who the person was just by the sound of his fine leather boots on the floor, and by his signature scent you, oh, so adored.

Your boss, Ed, or rather Mister Dillinger, as you usually called him, stood right next to you, fixing his navy bow-tie. You caught a glimpse of him with your peripheral vision and you felt your cheeks burning with heat. And not just them. The shameless sensation reached your pussy at record speed and you could feel the fabric of your crimson-colored panties getting slightly damp. Something that had been happening ever since you started working for him.

It was his nicely ironed dark blue suit, his silky-smooth vest, his glasses, or maybe the way he stood there paying attention to the screen of his iPad - it all sent shivers to all the right places. The places you never even knew you could feel something at.

“Evening, sir.” You chirped, hoping to catch his attention.

His head turned upwards from the tablet, his eyes finding your own. He fixed the glasses on the bridge of his nose with his fingers, and you were fighting all your inner demons to not stare at them.

“Ah, Y/N…” His sentence was interrupted by a weird rambling and a thud. The lights of the elevator flickered a few times, and the machine stopped.

You always felt kind of nauseous every time you stepped into that elevator. All your muscles tensed and your breathing got slightly shallow until you got off. But being stuck in such a horrible and confined space really did not help your claustrophobia. Quite the opposite… You felt panic starting to flood your mind, darkening it with fear.

“Oh, my God.” A last breath of tranquility escaped your lips when everything above and below you stopped dead on its tracks. And the brief flicker of the lights prevented it from coming back to you.

Your desperate fingers broke through a tremor and frantically pressed every button that looked like an emergency one. And then, when the elevator doors did not magically open, you rushed to double-press every single button to no avail. 

“Shit!” You exhaled, giving up and giving in into your worst fear. The metal around you sizzled and constricted like it burnt, your vision blurred and the pressure in your stomach made you feel so hollow yet so heavy. The tortuous beating of your heart took over your ears so loudly, you didn't catch your boss' voice. It wasn't until his hand touched your shoulder, that you could make out the words.

“Hey... Relax.... Relax.” Edward repeated, his voice so unfazed, like it wasn't his first time stuck in there. You didn't turn to face him, it would have mortified you twice as much. So you pressed your forehead against the wall, finding it colder than expected.

“Calm down, people will come for us. It won't take long, I promise... Just calm down, breathe with me…”

It was all a big, draining whirlwind you were trapped in, but somehow you found the will in you to follow him. Seven seconds of air filling your lungs, five of holding it there and six of exhaling it. Repeated several times until your feet were back on the ground and your forehead felt the wall warming up to your touch. 

“That's it... It's ok…” Edward repeated, his hand very gently touched your upper arm and slowly pulled you away from the useless button board and towards his chest. He must have set his Ipad down on the elevator floor during your panic, because he carefully guided you with both hands towards the center. You calmed down a little more, putting all your focus on the right amount of seconds for each breathing phase. With all the gentleness he had, he started to sit you both down, with you between his legs, your back against his chest and your ear close to his lips.

“Easy… That’s good… You’re ok… You’re going to be ok…” He kept soothing you, his hands rubbing comforting circles over your arms. Slowly but surely, it had an effect on you. And then it finally hit you: you had just had a panic attack. IN FRONT OF YOUR BOSS/WORK CRUSH. And while you dreaded thinking about it, you wished the elevator would just plummet down the building. 

“You know, this has happened to me two times before… The longest I’ve been here is about 15 minutes… They always notice if there’s something wrong with the elevators.” Edward’s warm voice snapped you out of your thoughts. At least a rescue was ensured. But that still didn’t fix your embarrassment… Oh, God must really like seeing you suffer. What must Mister Dillinger think of you now? He must think you’re pathetic and stupid and…

“So don’t worry, baby…. I’m here with you…” Baby… BABY. You almost didn’t believe it. And you would have told yourself it was an auditory illusion but then, his hand slowly started to move down your arms. His lips and stubble caressed your ear, giving you a good shiver. Edward kept whispering soft praises the more you relaxed and you felt in heaven.

“Good girl.” He murmured, and your cheeks burned. The cheeky little warmth your pussy always felt when he was near returned with renewed intensity now that you were in his arms, and now that you were “baby” and “good girl”. 

His left hand stopped tracing circles on your arm and traveled to your chest, tenderly lazing over the side of your breast. Not kneading it or even attempting to cup it, just lingering there in a silent plea for permission.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop…” His voice was soft against your ear, his hands completely stayed still over your beautiful body, expectant for a cue or a full on red light. You had found that his touch had a soothing effect on you. There was something so calming about his big hands, his warmth and, on top of all things, his understanding nature.

“Don’t stop…” More than a cue, this was a soft little plea. You needed to feel him all over you, his warmth washing away the fear and the constriction. 

On command, his hand on your breast kneaded the flesh so softly over your bra until he found your nipple, making you moan quietly.

“That’s it… Just relax… Let me take care of you…” His voice was huskier now. The combination of his stubble and his breath on your ear was a sensory experience drawn out straight from your fantasies. You obeyed, the last bits of tension in your body fading away the more he fondled your now hardened nipple.

As for Edward, he swallowed thickly, his cock was growing uncomfortably harder in his tight pants. A desperate need started to tug on his reason and he swiftly moved onto the next step when he noted your new calmness and your quiet moans. 

“Is this ok?” He whispered again, making your eyelashes flutter and your lips part when the hand that wasn’t massaging your breast reverently and very carefully traveled down your abdomen. You nodded and he smiled ever so slightly before taking in the shape of your thigh with his palm.

That morning when you picked out your outfit, you decided against a pair of pants for not matching with your new shoes, and God, you were glad you had. Because instead, you chose to wear a cute black skirt and stockings that Edward now palmed in admiration. 

“I’ve never told you… But you always look so stunning…” He confessed to the skin of your neck before planting a soft kiss there, getting a reaction out of your needier and needier body. Your underwear felt damp and your lower abdomen felt hotter, lonelier.

As if he had detected it, Edward rode up your skirt slowly at first, in his usual search for permission. When you nodded again, he continued, exposing the sheer fabric of your stockings and then, a view that made him smile, your crimson panties with a flirty lace trim. 

“Naughty little girl.” Edward couldn't contain himself. Your choice of underwear had been unintentional. All your panties that would have been more suitable for a black skirt were in the laundry and your choices were limited. But you pretended it was a deliberate seduction tactic. Perhaps part of a plan to cross your legs in front of him, or bend down to pick up something at the office so he could have an ‘accidental’ little peek. Whichever way, he was a fan. His thick fingers lowered them well enough to see your little bush, something that got a guttural sound out of him.

“Just how I like them.” He growled. His fingers attracted to your heat like a magnet to metal. He ran two digits across your needy cunt, rewarding you for being so wet for him with a lustful kiss. You moaned softly once more, your eyes closed as you let the feeling sink in. You spread your legs a bit further, only hearing his breaths, the smacking of your lips together and, of course, the sounds of your slick arousal.

"God... Hear that? Hear how wet you are? Is that all for me, babe?" He gently broke the kiss and his whisper teased the skin of your earlobe along with his stubble. His fingers slowly buried themselves into your tight cunt, this time spreading you open with a scissoring motion. His index and middle fingers stretched you once experimentally, making you gasp and whine and making him groan in a pleasant surprise.

"Oh, don't tell me you're still a virgin, baby? A pretty girl like you?" He teased, half in disbelief, half in arrogance. He was going to be your first then? That knowledge filled him with a greedy, possessive, perhaps a little old-fashioned pride. Nobody had touched you or had you before. You were going to be all his. He smirked like a devil and continued his motions to get you ready for his cock.

You moaned again, lost to the lust and willing to be his, when suddenly, a sound made you clam up and open your eyes widely. Two voices outside the elevator, loudly complaining that the machine was not working.

"Mister Dillinger..." You tried to warn him in a rising panic despite the coup d’état your pussy threw over your brain. Somebody had to be the voice of reason here. Remind you both that you were stuck in the elevator, that the people you just heard could hear you. And even if they didn’t,  they would still try to get the doors to slide open. And if they did, they would discover you two were fucking in there. The embarrassment made your cheeks even redder. Or maybe it was the feeling of his fingers that kept massaging your walls. It got hard to think, your cunt only got wetter and your mind cloudier. You moaned so softly, so needily, eliciting another groan from him.

"Ed. Just call me Ed." He completely ignored the voices and whispered into your neck, placing soft kisses that led him lower and lower. His hand left your heat for a moment, making you whine in protest.

"Ed..." You called out for him. Your anxiety at being caught dissolved in your dampness. The absence of his thick fingers in you pushing you over the edge of carefulness. You've wanted him for so long, your entire body begged for his touch. 

A third voice from the outside almost pulled you out of this renewed state. But as soon as you heard the relief in that voice, telling the other two about the other elevator that still worked, you relaxed. All voices disappeared away and all you could hear now was the heavy breathing of Ed, who never stopped kissing your neck and touching you. It was the first time in your life you were glad that people who could have rescued you didn’t even notice you were there. 

“That’s it, pretty girl… It’s ok.” Ed placed another slow, rewarding kiss on your lips, and you were lost on him again. Finally, there was no tension left that could block your true wants.

He noticed that right away. His hands that roamed slowly over your breasts and waist started to travel to your hips. 

“Are you ready?” You were not sure what he meant exactly, but you were ready for anything.

“Yes.” You replied and he wasted no time. He groaned softly as he manhandled you in a 180 turn, pinning you down against the elevator floor with your knees up.

"These have to go. You're so pretty to be all covered up." Edward charmed you while he fully took off your crimson panties, tossing them aside. Once they were off, he delighted in the sight of your wet cunt. So pretty and needy. It made his cock twitch in his pants and his tongue lick his lips. A low growl of approval, more than that, rumbled in his throat.

Your arousal successfully lured him in. Each hand took hold of one of your thighs to spread you open, his grip on the soft flesh firm but careful. He didn't want to scare you, he wanted you to feel revered and beautiful. Confident and determined. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you. So he looked into your eyes, his pupils behind his glasses were so dillated it made something in you flutter.

"Tell me what makes you feel good." He whispered, lost in your gaze, before lowering his mouth to your clit.

You quickly tried to figure out what you liked, but since you had never done anything like this before, you didn’t know what you preferred and what not. Of course you touched yourself on the loneliest of nights, however that was completely different.

“I…”

But the single-worded reply was everything you were able to say, before a loud gasp left your lips as his mouth connected with the already sensitive skin of your damp folds. The mere feather-like contact of his lips and stubble against you was enough to throw you off edge. 

Your reaction caused his smirk to be more prominent. He opened his mouth wider as his hot breath tickled you – a prediction of his drool-covered tongue licking a fat stripe down your wet cunt. He started moving it up and down at a slow but teasing pace, wanting to reach and explore every little space and corner of your arousal, wanting to taste and devour all of you. 

“Mmhh…” your quivering voice creating a pleasurable melody for his ears.

The tip of his nose was buried at your clit, right under the bushy cut, pressuring against the receptive spot. Ed was relishing at the fact the touch increased the shivering of your already tensed up muscles, bringing you close to release of the tight knot in your lower stomach.

Adding his lips to the skilled movements of his tongue, he started sucking your clit and folds. Your breathless moans heightened on the frequency and volume. The man was hungrily lapping out on you as if you were a fine five course meal and he was a starved animal. And God, saying he could not get enough was a light word. 

“Ed-” you whined his name. “Uhh, oh God!” 

A groan formed deep down in his chest rambled out of his throat, vibrating at your slick pussy. His hands gripped at the flesh of your hips and thighs tighter, not letting you shift even an inch away from him. Your juices mixed with his drool tasted as if heaven itself landed in his mouth. It was like an addictive drug possessing all his senses.

“Fuck, you taste divine.” he was able to quickly mutter before getting back to eating you out until you would be a trembling mess.

Your hips started bucking and squirming, and he knew you were close. And he couldn't wait for the sweet treat in the form of your orgasm. His tongue kept torturing your throbbing cunt. The heat of the moment and your wetness made his glasses foggy, but your boss did not care. There was no way for him to stop now.

The merciless movements of his mouth continued until the tight knot in your abdomen finally untied as you reached the peak of pure bliss, with your moans following along. He slurped on everything, what came out as if it was the most delicious dessert he had ever eaten. 

"That's it... You're ready for me, baby." Edward whispered. His index and middle fingers traced a sticky line across your pussy, proudly showing just how eager you were for his fat cock. You moaned softly at the touch, more than aware of what you wanted: him.

“Oh God, Ed, please…” You begged ever so softly, guided by the hand by your need. Ed found it so exquisite he didn’t know when his hand reached for your cheek to cup it so tenderly.

“‘Please’ what, baby? Tell me.” His voice was a warm whisper that kept you at ease, a complete contrast to the fuss between your thighs. And he knew it. He reveled in the look in your eyes, in the way your folds clenched the air. Your mere presence had him addicted already, and he still hadn't been inside you. Yet…

“Please… Fuck me…” Embarrassment be damned, you thought, your body begged and cried for him. You wanted him not just inside your thoughts every day, you needed him everywhere he could fit in. 

“Say it again.” He commanded firmly but still with gentleness towards you. He just wanted to hear something so filthy come out of your innocent lips again. His thumb traced a path of adoration on your cheek. His baby blues glimmered like a beacon with the lights of the elevator.

“Please, fuck me…” Another sweet whisper for his ears’ delight. He smiled in a mixture of tenderness and desire. He would not make you wait much longer, it would be torture for the two of you.

“As you wish, babe.” His voice was slightly hoarse already. He never once stopped looking at you as he unzipped his black pants and lowered them just enough. He would have wished he could undress completely. Have your soft skin bare against him so every inch of his being could memorize the feeling of you. But your circumstances were not ideal. He still held out hope for a rescue. And if the elevator doors slid open mid-fuck for a bunch of concerned ENCOM employees to see, he would at least appreciate to still be mostly clothed.

Lucky for you, the elevator was still stuck, and Ed was free to release his hard cock from the confines of his dark blue Calvin Kleins. 

He let out a hoarse sigh, and you gasped softly. You had seen penises before (your reaction to seeing his made you feel like a sheltered Victorian girl), but you had never seen one that was this close and erect for you. 

You swallowed thickly at the sight. He was not pornographically big, but ‘small’ was not a term you would use to describe it. It was a perfectly fine cock with a pink mushroom tip that would have made you smile had you not been a little nervous. You could barely tell from the confines of his underwear, but it seemed like he was well groomed down there. He did look like he took good care of himself in general. This only made you a little self conscious as you remembered that your own little bush was on display. Not that he seemed to mind. You had to remind yourself that he had just gotten back from gladly eating you out.

With an immediate drive, Ed used the remains of your wetness on his fingers to lube himself up as much as he could, just so he could give his cock a few pumps that made his eyes close for a moment and his eyebrows furrow. He was so ready for you it could drive him insane. And you, despite the nerves, could feel the neediest parts of your mind and body luring him in.

It worked. Ed crawled towards you, his body caging you in. You thanked the architects and designers of this elevator for making it wide enough for missionary. Had it not been you would have probably had to lose your virginity against the wall. Or, if Edward wanted to be nice and considerate to you, in an awkward kneeling missionary position that, you figured, would work better on a bed. Fuck his knees, he would have done it even if it hurt. But lucky for his 30-something-year-old patellae and ligaments, this elevator had space. God bless ENCOM.

“It's ok… Relax and tell me if you ever want to stop.” He whispered. Once again, his eyes focused on yours, on your face. Studying every micro-expression in search for any hesitation, discomfort or a single trace of your previous panic. He only found understandable nervousness and also a gleam of desire that made him warmer. Gone was his usual cockiness for the time being. He was going to be the gentlest man in the world for you.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he shifted closer towards you. A sweet gasp resonated when you felt the tip of his cock poking at your slick entrance. You nodded, and your hands reached up to feel his back. He groaned in pleasure when he started to push inside you, finding his brand new addiction.

“Fuck… You're so tight.” He uttered, completely taken by the feeling of you. His thick eyelashes fluttered and he licked his lower lip in automatic. The tip easily slided in. 

You whimpered and furrowed your brow, it was hurting much less than what you had always expected, but it was still something to get used to. 

He buried himself to the hilt, groaning and panting. The veins of his cock pumping viciously, making it twitch a little. To relax you, he took your mouth in a gentle kiss, nothing too demanding to balance out the arduous work he made your small pussy do. You moaned gently into his mouth, your hands felt him up over his vest. On your own, you put more passion into the kiss, and when your cunt throbbed around him and he was able to slide a little bit more inside you, he knew you were ready.

Carefully, he thrusted in and you moaned. He moved with you, setting up a nice and easy rhythm that was just perfect for you. It all felt so slick, so hot. He was fully lost. Pride swelling up his chest at the fact that he had just popped your cherry, trying to interfere with the gentleman he was being with you. It could be so easy to let go of his sweetness. It was not every day when he had sex with somebody as innocent as you. In fact, it was the first time he was with somebody inexperienced. But no, he was going to remain gentle. There would be other occasions for the roughness.

Soon enough, the elevator filled with your moans and his low grunts, along with the sounds of your bodies colliding. He was in heaven. Your body, your voice, your lips, your tightness. You were an obsession that was going to haunt him and his dreams for evermore. 

And you, so needy and delicious, were almost incredulous to the fact that you were living out your recurring daydream scenario. All the nights you felt desire taking over you would stroke your clit and imagine your fingers belonged to your unreachable boss. Daring to dream that this man would ever do that to you. You moaned again when his actual fingers snaked between your thrusting bodies to draw sweet circles around your clit. Reminding you that this was very much real.

“That’s good. You’re doing so good.” He praised with his voice husky, and your pussy throbbed around him. He took it as a sign, going a little faster on you. With both hips and fingers.

He groaned wholeheartedly, sending electricity through you with the circles on your clit. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

“God, baby. I’m gonna fill you up so good.” He whispered absentmindedly, reason unavailable from his pleasure and the feeling of you. In his remaining thoughts, he saw a near future where you walked the ENCOM halls with his cum dripping down your inner thighs. But you, much more aware of the consequences since they would mostly affect you, snapped out of your own haze.

"Wait... Fill?" You asked. Your old friend Anxiety paying you a little visit once more.

"Oh… Are you on birth control?" Ed managed to formulate once he took notice that his fantasies couldn’t always coexist with reality. His labored breath seeped through each syllable. His hips never once stopped moving. A ticking time bomb.

"No..." You admitted. Worry clawing its way out of your arousal-clouded mind. But even then, your cunt had a life of its own. Throbbing all around him in an act of rebellion, drawing a moan out of you and a low groan out of Ed. You saw the pale blue of his iris roll back a little in between fluttering eyelashes before he fought back for control over himself.

"Fuck... Can't risk it... I'm pulling out, ok?" He struggled to talk as his slow thrusts faltered a little. All he needed now was your consent to pound you into the elevator floor and pull out before it was too late. God help him.

You nodded eagerly, holding onto his back and the fabric of his vest. Once he saw you, he went ruthless with you. 

“Shit… Shit!” He moaned, his pace grew desperately faster. It was a race to see what would come faster: a rescue, or him.

Your moans became mantras with Ed’s faster pace. Your toes started to curl inside your shoes and your nails wished they were sinking on his skin and not his clothes. That was the last coherent thought you had for the time being as his cock hit your sweet spot right in the middle. You howled, Ed got the hint. He managed to hold your hip with one hand to keep you there, trapped between the strong pumps and the waves of pleasure this sent through you.

“Ed!” You cried out, unable to handle this for much longer. He huffed in response, attacking your cunt with another series of deep thrusts that made you whine.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” His word was your command, it seemed. Fact is, you didn’t need much longer to be sent over the edge. Your back arched, making your clothed breasts press against his chest, to which he moaned. The last sound you heard before your scream of pleasure. 

Your wet, throbbing, creamy pussy sent the biggest, most wanted orgasm it could have ever given you, all over your nervous system. Making you milk his cock in desperation. He didn’t last a few more seconds upon feeling that all around him.

He thrusted one last, faltering time before painfully detaching himself from your addictive cunt. Quickly, he grabbed the first thing he found: your crimson panties, and clutched them around the head of his penis, whimpering when he used them to contain his spurting cum and not make a mess out of this elevator, or worse, of you. 

You watched the scene unfold. Ed opened his mouth in what it seemed like the most pleasurable yawn of his life and shut his beautiful eyes when he came. His jaw trembled for a moment and he made an attractive sound before the last drop of semen coated your panties. He panted there for a moment, holding his covered cock until he had the stamina to wipe off his tip, half-assedly fold your panties, leave them on the elevator floor and, finally, rest himself on top of you, fully satisfied.

You struggled to catch your breath with the remainder of his weight on you. You could have stayed right there, committing the post orgasmic feeling to memory so you always carried it with you. But a flicker of the elevator lights and a sudden movement dragged you out of the little death and sat you both up. For a moment you feared the worst case scenario.

“What’s-” You didn’t even formulate your question properly when the familiar movement of an elevator going up as if nothing had happened made your already racing heart jump. 

“Oh, shit… It’s working again!…” Edward deciphered with relief, pointing towards the digital numbers on the elevator screen that counted the floor numbers. In your own relief and your gratefulness your eyes grew wide when you remembered the state you were both in.

“Shit!” You whispered, gently pushing him off of you in desperation to get proper again. He got the hint immediately and stood up with the help of the elevator wall. The hand that had been inside you took yours and he lifted you back on your feet.

It all became a blur of clothes being straightened up; thigh high socks, blouse, his zipper. When you looked around for your panties, you only saw him shamelessly shoving something crimson down his pocket and looking at you with a cocky grin.

"Can't let you go out there with filthy panties, babe." Edward explained so nonchalantly he almost convinced you. But you didn't have time to disagree and protest as the elevator stopped on the floor you had initially wanted to go to, and so, before the doors slid open, you unrolled your skirt in a swift motion and prayed that nobody would notice.

"See you." The cocky bastard picked his IPad from the floor and stepped out into the hallway, fixing his glasses before turning to look back at you. It was then, with his vision clear again, he noticed something in the upper back corner of the elevator that had been there all along, too hidden for lustful eyes that only looked into each other and never around: a security camera pointing towards the middle of the metallic floor.

As promised, here is the Ed Dillinger Jr playlist. It has a LOT of Daft Punk cause I headcanon that he's a big fan. Plus some songs I think fit him lyrically or just for the vibes.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty six

authors note: this chapter almost entirely covers grief. be prepared.

cw/tw: angst (discussion of grief and loss)

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

chapter suggested listening: "i hope you dance" by gladys knight, "lift me up" by rihanna, and "dancing in the sky" by dani and izzy.

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 9k

Solana still vividly remembers the moment she was told her mother was dead. Not the moment where Nina died, where she took her last breath. No, that devastating memory is forever attached and molded to Solana’s recollection, something to never escape her, despite her best efforts to dump it into the sea of the forgotten.

No, the moment she was told is something different, somehow colder and heavier. 

She can still recall the sound of beeping machines, blurry, amorphous figures melting into something less abstract and more corporeal. The smell of nothing, sterilization that was quickly permeated by the overwhelming scent of her father’s cologne.

For some reason, that was more prominent and noticeable than the tube down her throat, preventing her from clearly speaking. It didn’t stop her from trying though. Because even with her barely cognizant state, with the fact that she wasn’t still fully aware of where she was and what occurred, her focus was on one person.

Her mother.

That was the intended word, Solana’s muffled moans and groans, fighting against the tube. The pain that shot through her little body while trying to move it wasn’t enough to stop her from asking. 

Mommy

It’s something that’s always sat with her. Influenced her in many ways. 

It’s also something that helps her understand a fraction of what Roman is going through right now, the feelings he might be experiencing. Everyone is different. She knows this. But, she also knows the feeling of loss. Of feeling alone.

And she swore to him he would never be alone.

Fetu is gone, yes. But, he’ll always have her.

It's what she keeps in mind as she and Jimmy arrive at Fetu's place and move to enter.

Solana had a feeling she would be walking into a difficult scene, but she hadn’t the slightest clue the severity of said difficulty.

“Oh my God….”

It’s bedlam. 

Chaos and destruction all around her from the minute she and Jimmy open the front door and walk in. Furniture turned upside down, shattered shards of glass littering the floor all over, dents and scuffs on the wall, indicating objects being thrown.

Solana even spots a few holes she can tell weren’t caused by objects.

They were caused by fists. 

But while Jimmy stands beside her, face not hiding his shock and slight horror at what lies before them, Solana’s similar expression stems from a different space.

It stems from how devastated her husband must be right now to cause such destruction.

“I’ve gotta find him,” Solana says, swallowing and moving to maneuver past the glass when a cautious but firm hand grabs her arm.

“Solana, let me find him.”

She doesn’t need an explanation as to why this is being proposed. The answer is written in red lettered concern all over his face.

She shakes her head. “No.”

Jimmy sighs, dropping his hand to gesture to the wreckage around them. “Solana….look at what he did.” She has. Hard not to. “He’s clearly not in a good place right now.”

“Would you be?” She challenges. “Put yourself in his shoes, Jimmy. In my shoes.” Voice breaking, she discloses. “You don’t know what it’s like to unexpectedly lose the one person who meant the world to you….and to not be able to say goodbye.” Solana sniffles, forcing out a shaky breath. “I know what he’s feeling right now, which is how I know what he needs, and it’s not you.”

Jimmy is silent. A small part of her understands and appreciates his concern, but he has to understand her side of things too. 

Roman may be his cousin, lifelong friend, borderline brother.

But, Roman is her husband. Her person. Her better half.

Her soulmate.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassures, reaching for his hand. “What I need you to do is find Ava.” She motions to the destroyed room. "We don’t know if she was part of this as well.” Because despite only one meeting, Solana can tell that Ava has a strong personality just like Roman. Loved Fetu just as much as Roman.

She has to be just as distraught.

Jimmy counters, “let me try to clean some of this up first.”

“No.” Solana shakes her head. “I can handle that.” Because cleaning up after men following outbursts is something, sadly, she has plenty of experience with. Countless times her father and brother would destroy rooms and force her to clean up their mess. So, certainly, she can do the same for a man whose actions are fueled not by rage.

But pain.

Loss.

Grief.

Especially when that man is her husband. 

“Solana—”

“And I—I want you to leave after that.” His eyes double in size, prompting her to explain. “Roman…..he’s gonna need some time. I don’t….I don’t think he’s going to want to be around anyone, even you.” Maybe even me. “I want to give him what he needs.”

“Solana—”

“I’ll be fine, Jimmy.” There’s not an ounce of her that believes she won’t. “I just need you to find Ava. Help her. And get back home, because I need you to keep Dulce for us.” She swallows, adding in a small voice. “He’s gonna need a couple days.”

More than that. Much more. But for now, it’ll have to do.

Jimmy still looks unconvinced. 

But, he eventually agrees, leaving to find Ava who had sent a vague text saying she needed air.

Nothing more.

It's how both Jimmy and herself suspect she's gone for a walk in the surrounding woods.

And as soon as he's gone, Solana is on the move, instantly going up the stairs.

Each step taken feels like there’s a ton of bricks attached, weighing her down, pulling her back and trying to keep her from exactly where she needs to be. It’s all mental and emotional, but it’s not enough to keep her from pressing forward.

She passes Fetu’s room without sparing a glance, both for her own mental sake and knowing that’s the last place he’d probably be. His room would seem the most logical place to start to look, but she also knows that when one is deep in the throes of grief, there is no place for logic.

So, she goes through each room, bypassing the bathrooms and Ava’s bedroom. Again, another place she just can’t picture him being.

It eventually leaves her with two options: the last guest room and his room. Given the cracked door for the latter, that’s the route she chooses.

Solana’s heart is slamming repeatedly against her chest, her eyes watering prematurely at what she knows will be a heavy ass sight. But still, she powers through those emotions, bypasses her own personal sentiments and focuses on him.

A gentle knock followed up with, “Roman?” Nothing. She’s not surprised, but she at least would like him to know it’s her about to enter and not someone else. Something tells her his reaction would be different—very different—if anyone else was trying to “disturb” him right now. 

Solana gently turns the knob, partially unsurprised to also find the room in a slight state of disarray. Not nearly as bad as the living room and entrance but still indicative of turmoil.

A lamp lays shattered near the door to the bathroom, a picture knocked off the wall, the TV also down on the floor. Nothing major beyond that, but even if so, it wouldn’t capture much—or any—of her focus. No, that’s because it’s already spoken for. 

“Roman….”

She sees him. Slumped on the floor, one long leg outstretched, other leg up, extend arm resting on his knee. Closing the door behind her, she rushes over to him, again unsurprised by how he doesn’t even bother looking in her direction.

Instantly, those watery eyes are upgraded to silent tears streaming down her face. “Ro…..” Carefully leaning down beside him, she finds herself reaching to push back some of his hair that’s not neatly tucked into his everyday bun but instead wild, hanging, unruly. 

A perfect representation of what he must be feeling. 

She shakes her head, “I’m so so—”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

There’s not a part of her that’s taken back by his words: hollow, empty, stoic. If anything, it’s expected. 

She expected this kind of reaction to her presence.

Shaking her head, Solana keeps her voice leveled. “I’m exactly where I should be.” Her gaze travels to his hand, a small gasp leaving at the blusied, lacerated, bloody state of his knuckles. “Roman—”

“I want to be alone.” 

Another emotionless statement, forcing her to look back at him. He looks shattered, but in a way that makes sense for him. No red, teary, puffy eyes. No. Just an empty look that hides an abundance of emotions. 

Solana makes sure not to stutter, stammer, or anything of the sort as she calmly replies, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

He closes his eyes, his jaw ticking, a sign of growing anger. It doesn’t deter her. “Solana, I want to be alone.”

“Roman—”

“I said leave!”

Silence

There’s a burst of silence that washes over the room following his outburst: loud, frigid, pained.

It’s been some time since he’s raised his voice with her, and the last time, her reaction was typical for where she was at that point. Scared, frightened, terrified even.

None of that could even remotely describe what she’s feeling right now. 

Solana has no reaction to his outburst. No flinching, no cowering, no wincing. Nothing.

“No, you don’t.” A closed, sullen smile as she moves a lock of his hair back out of his face. “You just don’t want to feel what you’re feeling. You’re angry and hurt and sad and confused and so many things you probably don’t even understand, because….because that’s what grief is.”

He says nothing, offers not outward reaction to her words. 

“I’m gonna say this one time and one time only.” She’s never been more sure about something in her life. “You can yell at me, you can scream at me, you can throw shit in my presence, you can even flip over every piece of furniture in this house, but I am not leaving. You may want to be alone, but you don’t need to be alone.” Pushing back more of his hair, it’s not missed on her the way he clenches his jaw. Not from anger. Something else. Something vulnerable. “I’m gonna clean and wrap up your hand, then I’m going to clean up downstairs and cook. I won’t talk to you unless you initiate it, and I won’t force you to interact with me. You can ignore me all you want, but as long as you’re here, I’m here.”  Her voice cracks as she stresses, “I’m not leaving you.”

Roman continues to remain silent following her heartfelt explanation, but it doesn’t bother her. None of what he’s done, what he’s said or not said bothers her, because right now, whatever he’s feeling is valid. 

“I’ll be right back,” she murmurs. Solana walks over to the bathroom and pulls out the first aid kit from the cabinet, returning to her husband who hasn’t moved. Silently, she works to disinfect and tend to his injuries. It’s not horrifically bad, but it’s not good, either. She’s unsure if Roman flexes his fingers to show nothing is fractured, but regardless, it’s appreciated and checks off a box without her needing to ask any questions.

Once finished, she informs, “I’m gonna go start cleaning up. Afterwards, I’ll fix you something to eat. I’ll have your plate on the table and text you when it’s ready. I’ll eat elsewhere.”

Roman continues to offer no sign that he’s listening to a word she’s saying. Still, it does nothing to deter her. Kissing his forehead, she returns the first aid kit to where she found it and walks out the room, leaving the door slightly cracked.

Solana walks back downstairs and stops midway to survey the damage around her. A lot is ruined beyond repair, but her focus is less on what was broken and more on ridding the place of the hazards. Starting with the broken glass.

Remembering where the cleaning supplies are kept, Solana carefully maneuvers her way across the floor and grabs the broom and dust pan. Wordlessly, she moves to clear the floor, dumping the shards into the nearest trash can. For extra protection, she vacuums the floor twice to suck up any remaining pieces. 

Following that, she goes to put back unbroken items where they belong. Pillows back on the sofa. A sofa that she had to tip over. Books back on the shelf. Pictures that once belonged in now broken picture frames on the coffee table. And the items of irreparable damage dumped in both the kitchen bin as well as the big bin out back.

It’s about half an hour of work, significantly less time than most people would need, but this isn’t Solana’s first rodeo.

She’s seen this movie before. 

Is very familiar with how it plays out. 

She’s about to start on the food when the sound of a door opening pulls her from searching the fridge to see what she can put together. 

Turning and walking towards the front door, Solana is already moving towards a despondent Ava, pulling her into a comforting hug. 

Ava sniffles into her shoulder, Solana’s eyes closing as she feels Jimmy’s sad gaze on them.

“I’m so sorry,” Solana whispers, holding her tighter. This is such a devastating loss on all fronts, and while he heart breaks for Roman not being able to see Fetu before she passed, Ava was the one who probably sat with her as she took her last breath.

Solana also knows how equally devastating that can be as well.

“Thank you for being here,” Ava murmurs, eventually pulling back and wiping her eyes. “And for….cleaning up.” She lazily gestures to the room that’s still not together but much better than it was.

Solana nods, taking Ava’s hand. “I was going to cook. Why don’t you—”

“Thank you, but—” Ava offers a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “I can’t—I can’t stay here.” Her lips press together as she shrugs with one shoulder. “Too many memories.” Solana also understands that. Understands it well. “I have an apartment out in town. I’m gonna—I’m gonna go stay there for a couple days, at least until–until the funeral.”

Funeral……

Solana doesn’t want to think about that.

“Of course,” she nods. “But, if you need anything—”

“I know.” Another smile. One that more so meets the eyes. Comes from a place of gratitude. She then gestures up the stairs. “But, he’s going to need you more.”

————

It’s difficult. 

For many different reasons. Solana trying to process her own grief while wanting to support and be there for Roman, while he works through his own. And while Solana logically knows that Roman icing her out, to some extent, should be expected, it doesn’t make it any easier.

Doesn’t hurt her any less to know he’s hurting but won’t let her help him.

But, she also knows she made that an option for him, and she doesn’t regret it. Nothing could stop her from being exactly where she is, even if Roman hasn’t said a word to her since her arrival almost three days prior.

Occasional glances and head nods, but nothing verbal. That also hurts, but she doesn’t take it personally. Knows that he’s just weighed down by everything that’s happened. 

She just continues to do what she can, prepare his meals that he eats alone, handles cleaning and laundry as he seems to spend the bulk of his days in the home gym or outside on ruins. A lot of avoidance behavior. But, she’s starting to see that’s maybe just how Roman copes.

He doesn’t. He just avoids shit until it “goes away.”

But this….this isn’t something to avoid, something that will go away.

He’s going to have to confront his emotions sooner or later.

Solana shifts on the bed in the guest room. The room where she’s been sleeping, already knowing that if Roman can’t even bring himself to interact with her, the likelihood of him wanting them to sleep in the same bed is slim to none. 

Another thing that’s hard. 

She’s just gotten so used to sleeping in his arms, but that’s a thought that’s much too self-focused. Her needs matter, but so do his, and right now, he’s not able to provide her that. 

And that’s okay, because he’s not okay.

She just wishes she could do something to help that. 

Her phone lighting up with Dr. Stratus smiling face is a nice distraction. “Solana.”

“Hi, doc,” she greets, shifting on the bed. “Thank you for—for making time for this.”

“It sounded important,” her psychiatrist's grin shifts into more of a frown. “And judging by how sad you look right now, I bet it is.” She directly asks, “what’s going on?”

So much. Too much to even fully unpack. “Roman’s…..had a loss in his family recently, and it’s….it’s hit us all pretty hard.” Him, arguably, the most, but also, her meeting and connecting with someone as much as she did with Fetu only to lose her so quickly…..it’s rough.

To say the least. 

Dr. Stratus frowns. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Solana already knows the question before it’s asked. “You know I have to ask. Are you experiencing any type of ideation?”

“No.” An easy answer. “Not at all. Just….heavy emotions.” Extremely. “Part of that though…..is probably because I’m pregnant.”

A gasp. “Solana.” Again, Dr. Stratus is smiling, still not as deep as her initial grin. But filled with excitement. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Solana sniffles, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—” She’s unable to catch the tear that spills down her cheek. “I still haven’t told Roman, and—and now that this has happened, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to tell him.”

Because that’s the other noxious thing about all of this. How wonderful, life-changing news has been tabled by horrible, also life-changing news.

In no universe can Solana understand and come to terms with how telling Roman about her pregnancy is appropriate. How is he to celebrate life when he’s just lost it?

It’s just all so terribly cruel.

Solana clears her throat. “I went to Roman’s doctor to do the test for me, and it came back positive, but he’s also certain that we’re having twins.”

“Oh, wow,” Dr. Stratus sighs, sympathy written all over her face. “Solana, I can’t imagine how difficult and confusing this must be for you right now.”

Solana whispers, “very.”

“Have you….have you spoken to Gail about this?”

She shakes her head. “No, because…..because it feels wrong—it is wrong—to keep telling people when my own husband doesn’t even know.”

Because it does. Because in a perfect world, she would have come up with a sweet and sentimental manner in which to break said news to him. Instead, she’s having to hide it from everyone around her—including him—sans the medical professionals she needs to know for various medical reasons.

“I understand.” Her voice is kind and calm, a constant. So very much appreciated. “But, you know, like myself, Gail is bound to confidentiality. As your therapist, she can help support you through this on the clinical side.”

“I know, but….but, I signed that paper allowing her to speak to Roman.” A full release of information. Solana knew what it was when she consented and still does now. 

“That doesn’t matter,” she counters. “You can revoke it any time, or even if you want to discuss it and make it clear she’s not to share that with him, you can. You are her client. Not Roman. Her responsibility is to you.”

Solana sits on the helpful advice. She’d forgotten Gail had made that clear when explaining the ROI. That it wasn’t the end all, be all, allowing Roman to know anything and everything about her. 

She might have to keep that in mind.

“So, I take it, you’ve only told me because of your medication, correct?” Solana nods. “Well, I wanna keep you with the Sertraline and Hydroxyzine. We could probably keep you on the Wellbutrin as well, but with a multiples pregnancy, I don’t want any take any risks.” She goes on to explain the plan, the way Solana is to taper off one medication to start another. Solana takes notes to avoid missing anything and makes sure to let the other woman know she probably won’t be home for a couple days. Thus, the switch won’t be immediate. 

That’s another thing that alerts Solana to how low her husband must be feeling. He hasn’t realized or either maybe just feels too down to even be on top of her medication. She’s been giving it to herself, which is something she’d like to become a regular thing. But, Roman not being as strict about it is yet another telltale. 

A strong indication of his continuing mental decline.

Another thing for her to worry about, and God is she worried. 

————

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Sniffling, Solana pauses the music, unable to listen to anymore.

Fetu’s smiling voice and cheery voice suddenly fill the room, returning to her along with a bittersweet memory. 

“Such a beautiful song. One of my favorites,” she’d shared, guiding Solana through a traditional Samoan recipe. “You want to know my favorite line?”

Solana nodded, smiling as she continued to peel the potatoes. “Of course.”

She waited for Fetu to turn down the music before she recited the lines. “Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone. I hope you dance.” Solana watched the almost solemn look in her eyes before the older woman smiled warmly. “Life is such a precious thing. We all have such limited time here in the grand scheme of things. In the good and the bad, we must always dance and find something beautiful to look back at.” 

Solana’s tears intensify, still remembering, feeling the exact emotion she felt in that moment. So profound and moving.

She’d give anything to have just one more type of interaction or conversation with Fetu again.

Even if…..

Even if just to tell her about the pregnancy. 

That makes her cry harder.

It takes a good twenty minutes for Solana to gather herself, to feel ready enough to check on Roman, to see if he needs anything before she goes to bed. 

Day five of his grieving has arrived, and he’s still not spoken to her. It still hurts, but it’s not a major concern.

What is a concern is everything else. His isolation. His helplessness. His sadness.

Solana knows better than anyone else what a depressive episode looks like, and the last thing she wants is to see him slip into one of those.

But, if he doesn’t stop shoving his feelings away, shutting down and dissociating…..that might be where he’s headed. 

Solana bypasses knocking on his door as it’s partially ajar. She instead walks in only to find the balcony door also open, Roman, shirtless, sitting on the chair, staring at absolutely nothing.

She frowns. 

It kills her to see him like this. 

Walking over to him, she stands just close enough for him to hear. “Ro? I’m going to bed. Do—do you need anything?”

His response is as the rest have been. Nonverbal. He simply shakes his head no.

She’s grateful he can’t see the disappointment in her face. “Okay.” Dejected and deterred, Solana turns to leave and return to her room.

“I didn’t come see her enough.”

Solana stops dead in her tracks as his deep voice penetrates the silence. For a quick second, she doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust her own hearing, because Roman hasn’t said a word to her in days. And yet…..

She turns toward him, realizing that her hearing isn’t needing testing when it happens again. He speaks. “I should have—I should have listened to you.” Solana walks so that she’s standing in front of him, where she’s partially eclipsed his view of the dark forest and sky that’s littered with a blanket of stars. “I should have—” He closes his eyes, as Solana kneels down in front of him. 

“Please don’t do that,” she begs, shaking her head, taking his hands in hers. His right hand has healed nicely following her tending to it at least once a day since he messed it up. “Please don’t blame yourself. She wouldn’t want that.”

Studying him, Solana is realizing this is the most expressive Roman has been in days. She could feel his grief before, but she can actually see it now. “She knew you loved her, Roman. And she loved you, too.”

“It wasn’t fucking enough though.” The anger is rising again, but it doesn’t deter or scare her, just makes her heart ache. Because she knows it’s just a cover-up for an abundance of sadness. “Never enough.” Her heart fractures even more as he says in a pained, tortured voice. “I wasn’t enough for her….to stay. Not—not her. Not my parents. My uncle. My siblings. None of them.”

And it’s really not until this moment Solana has truly known what it means to see the person you love the most break down before you.

This is a completely different side of her husband. 

This is vulnerability. 

“Ro…..” Fingers raking through some of his hair, she does her best to find any words that could provide him some type of comfort, all while knowing nothing can ever really take away his pain. “Baby, you are enough.” More than enough. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” 

He looks away, clearly distraught. “I couldn’t save her this time.” Her eyes shut. This is heartbreaking. “I didn’t…..I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Solana’s chest aches. Tears brimming in her eyes, she stands up. “Come here.” She doesn’t even have to try to embrace him. Roman already has his arms around her, tugging her closer as he lays his head against her stomach. 

It takes a second for it to register, for her to recognize there’s a slight tremble of his body against hers. For her to understand why his grip on her seems to tighten by the second. He’s holding her so tightly. 

And, it’s when she hears it that it registers.

It’s when she hears the quiet sniffles that it hits her like a ton of bricks. 

He’s crying. 

Another brief second of shock that’s quickly washed away by her natural instinct to nurture and protect. 

“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, holding him, kissing the top of his head. “Baby, I am so so sorry.”

For one thing and one thing only. His loss. What Fetu’s death has done to him, how it has impacted him so deeply. What’s she’s not sorry for is this long awaited breakdown of sorts. Roman has needed this. Needed it for so long. To finally breakdown and feel his feelings, and while she knows better than anyone how uncomfortable and overwhelming that can be, it’s also inevitable.

This was bound to happen.

She’s just grateful she can be here to support him through this.

The way she always will. 

————

Roman’s breakdown proved to be the catalyst. The thing that helped progress him from this almost stoic state of dissociation to a state of feeling and being. He’s actually talked to and with her. More interaction that doesn’t feel forced, almost natural. What she’s used to. To some degree, because he’s still sad. Of course, he’s sad. Still grieving. All normal.

But, he’s no longer icing her out, and that’s all that matters to her. 

So much so that he’s continued to accept her nurturance and affection. Welcomes it. Craves it, almost. The way he’s welcomed her back into the bedroom, sleeps at night practically on top of her, head on her chest as she rakes her fingers through his hair. The way he pulls her onto his lap as they eat. It’s all so subtle but also loud. The kind of love and support he’s clearly needing, and she gives it all to him.

Whatever he needs, she’ll do.

Solana presses a kiss to his temple and runs her fingers along his broad shoulders as he lays back, almost relaxed against her, the bubbles surrounding them covering the majority of their bodies, warm water infused with lavender and chamomile contributing to the serene atmosphere she was aiming for.

A goal that seems to be working based upon how at ease he feels against her, the leaking of the tension from his big body. 

“I’m gonna drive tomorrow,” Solana informs. Because Roman’s emergence from his dark hole has also meant reintegration into reality and society. Over the past two days, she’s overheard him taking phone calls, some in English, some in Samoan. And from what she could make of these calls is that they were pertaining to funeral arrangements for Fetu.

Clearly, as the funeral is set to be held this upcoming Sunday. 

She has such mixed feelings on that. On how hard that’s going to be for her husband. 

But, one thing at a time.

“I can drive,” he answers, eyes still closed. 

Sighing quietly, she angles her head so that she has a better view of his face. “I said I’m gonna drive.” At that, Roman opens his eyes, clearly taken back by her calm but firm push back. Frowning, she strokes his beard. “I want you to rest.”

Because, she does. Because he’s going to need it. Because in this space for the past week, he’s been able to just be. Be angry. Be hurt. Be sad. Be anything he needs to just be a human freaking being.

But, once they’re back home, all of that has to be turned off. He won’t have the space to be anything but the Tribal Chief and not a man just grieving a very important person. 

So, she wants him to have as much time dwelling in this safe space as possible, and that includes being able to relax while she gets them back home. 

“Besides, I haven't done it in so long, I need to make sure I still remember.” Being chauffeured quite literally everywhere has entirely deprived Solana of the need to have a car of her own but also to actually, well, drive.

Roman scoffs quietly. “That’s reassuring.” 

Rolling her eyes, she flicks his shoulder and murmurs with a small smile, “shut up.”

He does, but it’s only in preparation for what comes next. “Thank you.”

She has a feeling what he’s referring to, but assumptions have rarely done society any good. “For?”

His reply is instant. “All of it.” 

Comfort. It’s something she’s clearly been providing him but something he’s always provided her. 

Solana moves her hands down his chest and across his shoulders, mouth against his temple. “I’d do anything for you…..” Because she would. Anything at all. “Anything you need, just tell me, I’ll do it.”

He’s done so much for her. Supported her through some of her darkest, lowest moments. The least she can do is return the favor. 

Solana watches him sit up, never takes her eyes off him as he adjusts himself so he’s facing her, gently pulling her so she’s almost straddling him. The movement creating a ripple of waves that brushes against their conjoined bodies. Her wet hands move to his face as his move up her damp back.

“I just need you.” It could mean a lot of things, could refer to many of the things she’s done with and for him over the past week. But, that look in his eyes, the way his still solemn gaze drops to her chest, how his hands are moving to her hips, she knows exactly just how he needs her right now. 

Solana reaches past him to turn the knob to start draining the tub before ghosting her lips over his, murmuring, “so take me.” 

————

Being back in their home is an experience. A bit of a tease, really. Because while it’s nice to be in her house, with Dulce who seems to stay by Roman’s side, clearly sensing his grief, it’s also bittersweet.

Because it doesn’t change what’s happened. Doesn’t make the feelings of sadness go away. 

Doesn’t stop Solana from thinking about the letter Fetu gave her, from trying to figure out if it’s the right time to give it to him.

A dilemma that haunts her in the days leading up to the funeral as she works to support and be there for her husband while also managing her own pregnancy symptoms that seem to pop up at the most inconvenient times.

It’s only by the grace of God that Roman hasn’t walked in on her hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach from any and all food consumed. An irritating occurrence that seems to happen when she’s trying to cook.

She's definitely noticed an increased sensitivity to certain smells. Spices and seasoning that have always been staples in her cooking shelved due to her literally unable to tolerate the nausea that they cause her to experience just from the aroma alone.

Irritating, to say the least.

But, it’s the morning of the actual funeral that has her anxiety spiked, her concern at a naturally high baseline level. All things considered, she just has to focus on being there for Roman. Whatever that looks like. 

Still, it’s heavy and sad and just gut-wrenching.

Just about ready, only needing to slide her sandals on after letting Dulce outside to relieve herself, Solana decides to check on Roman. 

She finds him sitting on the edge of their bed. Like herself, he’s already dressed. A white, short sleeved button up shirt accompanied by a skirt-like wrap with tribal designs. A lavalava, according to Ava with leather sandals. 

She’s certain he heard her walk in, but he remains sitting, head down, ula fala on the bed beside him. Gently closing the door behind her, Solana walks over, partially surprised by how he reaches for her. Hands on her hips, her eyes never leave him as he lifts his head, clearly taking in her outfit. There’s a moment of anxiety under his intense gaze.

It’s easily squashed, however, when he says in a low voice, “you look beautiful.”

His compliment is so appreciated, especially when she thinks about his ability to still balance his grief while also making her feel so special. “Thank you.”

Solana moves her hands to the back of his head as he holds onto her, resting his head against her stomach. “I don’t want to do this.” Her eyes shut. She knows he doesn’t. “But, I have to.”

And that’s the part that kills her. That so much of handling this falls on his shoulders, is his responsibility because of his title. It kills her because it deprives him of just being able to grieve.

“I know, baby,” she comforts, gently stroking the back of his neck. “But, you don’t have to do it alone.”

She feels it. The heavy sigh against her. A sign of a semblance of relief. She’ll take that. She’ll offer that in any way that she can.

Roman sits back up, Solana watching him stand before her. Reaching to his side, she’s careful in how she picks up the ula fala and holds it before him. “Can I…..”

He nods and dips his head, allowing her to place it upon him. Solana is mindful of the placement, remembering the exact place it’s always sat when she’s seen it on him. And when he straightens to his full height, she moves her hands to his chest and says, “I know that you have to be the Tribal Chief today, but when it’s all said and done, and everyone has left and it’s just you and me, all I want and need you to be is Roman….that’s it.”

Because Roman is a man grieving. Who needs to be able to freely feel his feelings.

Whether he wants to or not.

Solana nods and leans up to kiss his cheek before taking his hand in hers, reminding, “I’ve got you.”

He says nothing, only nods, but he doesn’t have to. She can see the appreciation—and love—in his gaze.

—-----

Solana has never actually attended a funeral before. By the time she woke up from her coma, Xavier already had her mother buried, depriving her of that formal goodbye.

So this is a first for her. Different. She quickly learns that death is something that is not necessarily seen as a bad thing in Samoan culture. Sad, yes, but the focus is on the celebration of life, which she started to figure based upon the white color scheme.

Given the nature of the situation, Solana is unsurprised by the small attendance. Roman’s preference, no doubt. Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi are all expected guests, along with the preacher who officiates. However, it’s Paul and Dwayne who take her by surprise.

There’s a sense of gratitude, however, when they both hug Roman and offer their condolences. And she’s especially moved by the extended time taken with the hug from Dwayne, the way she can feel the empathy emanating from his tall frame.

She appreciates it deeply, and she knows that Roman does, too. 

There are also a couple of other attendees that surprise her but not entirely, as they uphold what she would guess are Samoan traditions for funerals. Song and dance. Prayers. 

It’s a beautiful send-off, one fitting for Roman’s eccentric aunt.

And almost the entire time, Solana remains by his side. Holding his hand or his arm, and if not in physical proximity, she always finds him, watching him. He is her number one concern. 

All things considered, he holds himself together well, but that’s highly due to the mask he’s wearing. The strong resilience he’s displaying in terms of not giving away the true extent of his hurt. But, Solana feels it. Feels it deeply when it’s just the two of them standing in front of Fetu’s casket, the others already departed and readying to leave. She’s about to do the same, leave him to have some semblance of privacy, only for him to tighten his hand that’s tightly clasped with hers. 

“Stay.”

A single, simple word. But, enough.

Solana nods, moving to hold onto his arm, standing quietly but supportively beside him.

As she always will. 

It’s after that, unfortunately, that things go downhill.

Solana partially expected the twins to come over following the funeral. Ava as well. All three, however, expressed their desire to give Roman his space. And, it’s appreciated, because Solana also believes that to be the best.

For right now.

However, that sentiment is not shared by Dwayne, Paul, and Rikishi. And truly, the first of the three is no issue. He doesn’t ride in the limo, opting to drive himself back to the house. 

But, it’s during that ride, for the first time since learning of Fetu’s passing, Solana feels anger.

Not even as part of the grieving process. No, she feels anger towards the two men who sit across from herself and Roman. She feels anger toward them because they haven’t even driven off yet when they’re throwing a bunch of work questions and situations at her husband.

Her husband who may look present, but she knows him well enough to know he’s not. 

And given how long these two men have known Roman, she would have thought they could see the same.

Maybe they don’t.

Or, maybe they do and just don’t care. Either one pisses her off. Makes it hard for her to hold her tongue.

Shipments. Orders. Contracts. All logical things someone in Roman’s state shouldn’t be dealing with. 

But, it’s exactly what they’re throwing at him.

Even as they arrive at the house, Dwayne taking a call out back, Paul and Rikishi barely have Roman sat down at their dining room table when they’re back at it.

“Orton wants to speak with you regarding re-negotiating the RKO proposal.”

“Stocks are looking good, but we need to start thinking about next quarter.”

“The Cartel are still interested in meeting. You need to make that happen ASAP.”

A bunch of irrelevant shit. Solana partially wants to stay outside with Dulce to avoid having to overhear it, but it’s impossible to not want to be present. To not feel the need to be present. 

Just what more do they plan to throw at Roman?

Her husband is responding, being responsive, but she can see it, hear it. The difficulty he’s having. 

And it has her nearly bursting at the seams, trying to focus on moving around the kitchen, early preparation for dinner, but it’s hard.

She’s given a chance though when Roman clears his throat and says something about changing before he stands up from the chair and starts to walk away.

Just like that, Solana knows this is her opportunity, her chance, and she has to take it. 

Because, she’s disgusted.

It’s only when she’s certain that Roman is upstairs, fully out of hearing distance that she finds herself asking, “what is wrong with you two?”

Both men look at her with partially startled, mostly confused, expressions. Rikishi is the first to speak. “What?”

Solana scoffs and points toward the steps. “He just buried his aunt. Her body isn’t even cold in the ground, and you’re asking him about work?” She continues, throwing out almost angrily, “does he look like he needs to be working right now?”

There’s a bit of a standstill. Paul looks flustered, his cheeks turning red like a child being scolded by a parent. Rikishi, however, wears an almost blank expression. “You are not Samoan, therefore you do not understand our ways. We do not mourn like you do. We celebrate life.”

“Yeah, well he’s not in place to celeb—”

“Roman is the Tribal Chief. What he needs is irrelevant when it comes to the Bloodline.” Rikishi’s interruption—and his words—have her taken back. “He understands what his duty is.”

“His duty…..” It’s potentially a build up of things, sadness and grief, manifesting as anger. Regardless, it’s growing with each word that leaves this man’s mouth. “Has he not given enough? He does everything he’s supposed to do for the Bloodline—”

“Except provide an heir,” Rikishi’s voice is as icy as the cold look in his eyes. “Or would that be you failing at the one job you have?”

Paul’s eyes widen as looks at the man beside him. “Rikishi—”

It takes so much, so much for Solana to not shut him up, to not tell him that she’s pregnant, hoping that he spreads it to any and all who’ve given Roman a hard time about not having a child.

Because fuck them. 

The chubby man lifts up his hand as he stands from his seat, rounding the corner of the table. “You are not Bloodline, so I’m not surprised you don’t know your place—”

“My place–” There’s not a single ounce of her wanting or willing to back down in this moment. “–is beside my husband.”

“Do not forget, girl, who put you in that position.” There’s an almost hint of disgust in the way the word ‘girl’ leaves his mouth. “You were nothing before him. Nothing but a punching bag for that pathetic father and brother—”

Solana has never considered herself a violent person, especially not someone who responds with violence. But, it’s almost instinct. Because one minute her hand is at her side, the next it’s colliding with Rikishi’s cheek, with an intensity that sends his head to the side. 

And she doesn’t regret it one bit.

Finally aware of what’s just happened, Solana can only process the anger in his fat face and the way he lifts his hand toward her. Except instead of cowering, she prepares to block it.

But, she doesn’t have to.

Because someone else does.

Solana gasps quietly at Dwayne who stands beside, almost in front of her, protectively, holding Rikishi’s arm in an iron grip. 

“I don’t think you want to do that,” he says with the perfect balance of lightness and seriousness. “Unless you want me to lay your candy ass out for breaking Bloodlines rules for putting your hands on a woman.”

Rikishi hisses and snatches his arm away. “She put her hands on me. I am an Elder.”

“I don’t give a damn who you are. You will not disrespect me in my house,” Solana swears. Never again will she allow any man to harm her, physically or verbally. 

And that’s a promise. 

Dwayne shrugs. “Sounds fair to me.” He then smiles, but there’s no trace of humor. “And like you said, she’s not one of us, so she doesn’t know our ways.”

Solana is surprised at that. How long has he been listening?

Paul suddenly steps forward, looking like he’s about to have a damn panic attack. “Clearly, there’s been some—”

“Get out.”

Solana’s interruption earns a variety of expressions ranging from surprisement, amusement and indignation.

Paul stutters. “I’m s-s-”

“I want you both out of my house.” There’s no stuttering on her end. “Now.”

While Paul looks confused between his friend and Dwayne, the latter chuckles, expressing, “I believe the wife of the Tribal Chief has made herself clear.” And just like that the smirk drops into a straight line as he orders, “leave.”

Paul doesn’t need to be told twice, the obese man hurriedly grabbing his papers with trembling hands. It’s Rikishi, however, whose gaze is now focused on her with borderline amusement.

He holds her stare, and she doesn’t dare look away. He will not intimidate her. 

Paul is mumbling and murmuring to the other man about needing to leave, something about coming back later, but again, he’s silenced by Rikishi.

“Well played, girl. Well played.” 

Rikishi turns to walk away when Solana finds herself stepping past Dwayne. “My name is Solana. Solana Reigns. The wife of your Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, and you will address me as such.”

Paul looks like he’s seen a ghost, like he’s seconds away from pissing himself. Rikishi just stares with a cold smile, one that doesn’t prevent or scare her from continuing. 

“And if you ever raise your hand to me again.” she steps forward, invading his personal space the same way he invaded hers. “Just know that I don’t need my husband to kick your ass.” There’s an almost snarl to her lip as she vows, “I can do it myself.”

Because she can. Because if she can put her brother, someone who terrorized and literally tortured her for years in the ICU, she can certainly do it to the rotund man before her. 

He doesn’t say anything else, just turns on his heel and leaves out with Paul, but Solana knows better. Recognizes that look. Has seen it before. Knows what it means.

This isn’t over. 

And yet, there’s not a part of her that’s nervous, that feels scared or even upset with herself at how she responded.

Because she’s spent years being hurt and disrespected by men. No more.

Not for herself but also for the children growing in her stomach. Children that she strongly believes to be girls. Solana would soon rather die than have anyone treat her daughters the way she’s been treated.

And she knows Roman would and will feel the same.

So, it starts now. The demanding of respect that she’s always deserved.

Regardless of who her husband is.

Dwayne steps forward, gentle hand on her shoulder. “You alright?” Before she can answer, he informs, “I’ll make sure Roman knows about—”

“No,” she interrupts and shakes her head. “I mean, I’m okay, but I don’t want you telling him. He…..he has enough on his plate.” And the last thing she wants is anything else being added to it. 

Dwayne frowns. “I don’t disagree with you, but as the faletua—”

Now she’s the one frowning. “The what?”

“Faletua,” he says it slower, offering and explanation. “It means the wife of the Tribal Chief.”

Solana is temporarily taken back by that. She never knew there was a direct word for who she is to Roman. For what she is to the Bloodline. 

It’s…..surprising, to say the least. 

“Speaking to you the way he did was unacceptable, but going to hit you?” He shakes his head. “Thought he would have learned that shit don’t fly with us by now.”

Curious, Solana crosses her arms and finds herself asking, “what do you mean?”

Dwayne seems a bit reluctant at first, eventually lowering his voice and offering an explanation. “Look, I’m 13 years older than Roman and Rikishi’s twins, so they were too young or not even born to have been around Rikishi when he was a piece of fucking work. Hothead. Impulsive. Used to beat on his wife. Always felt like he should have been the Tribal Chief. Nakoa, Roman’s dad, eventually had to give him an ultimatum: he get some help and straighten the fuck out or he and his entire family would be ex-communicated from the Bloodline.”

Solana hears the word coming out of this man’s mouth, but it’s difficult for her to process said words. Everything seems so…..unbelievable, like it can’t be true. Like the biological father of Jimmy and Jey, who have become like brothers to her, could be the sons of someone so…..vile.

Someone abusive.

Dwayne continues, “he’d calmed down a lot by the time Roman and the twins were born, so they don’t really know much about it. How bad it was, at least.” He then adds over a dark chuckle, “that’s where Jey gets his temper from. His old man.”

Solana has a lot to think on, but she also has many questions, too. Obviously, Rikishi’s behavior hasn’t been a problem for some time. Yes, there was today’s incident, but Solana thinks she knows her husband well enough to know he wouldn’t put up with any bullshit. 

So perhaps today was just a one-off? Fetu was his relative as well, so there’s a good chance his grief is presenting as irritation similar to how Roman’s presented as anger.

And yet…..

There’s this small, nagging part of her that doesn’t believe that. Believes that there’s more at play than what meets the eye.

Is starting to wonder if she now knows who Fetu was talking about when she said she told her brother, Nakoa, not to trust him.

Shaking her head, Solana redirects her focus to the conversation at hand. “Thank you.” Because she’s grateful for this man that she doesn’t know very well but believes to be a good person. Someone who’s good for her husband. “I—I’ll talk to Roman about what happened.” And she will……just sans some details. 

He doesn’t need to know everything. 

It’ll only put more stress on him, and he doesn’t need that.

Dwayne seems unconvinced, but he doesn’t argue. “If that’s what you prefer.”

“It is,” she answers. Switching gears a bit, Solana lowers her voice, sharing, “and thank you for being here…..for him.”

It’s not missed upon her the sad countenance that appears on his handsome face. “Gotta be honest with you, when I got the call, I was shocked. If I had known she was still……” Dwayne sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I understand why he kept it a secret. She….she meant a lot to him.”

More than you could ever know. “I know,” Solana whispers. The realization that Roman should have been back by now causes her to clear her throat. “I should probably go check on him.”

Dwayne nods. “I should probably get going anyway.”

Solana goes to protest, not wanting him to feel uninvited. “Oh no, you don’t—”

“You were right to tell them to leave,” he interrupts, gesturing to the steps. “He does need time.”

Solana says nothing, though feels immensely grateful to have someone who also recognizes that Roman is just a human being who just needs to feel and grieve instead of this machine that can just keep moving like clockwork.

Solana again thanks him for attending and his overall support before seeing him out the door and moving up the steps to check on her husband.

“Ro?” Opening the door to their bedroom, she's partially surprised to find Roman still sitting on the edge of the bed, clothes unchanged outside of the ula fala that lays on the dresser. 

He turns to her as she closes the door behind her and walks over to him. “I just….I need a minute.”

Moving in between his legs, she informs, “it’s okay. They’re gone now.” 

At that, he looks at her with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“Dwayne left on his own, but I made Paul and Rikishi leave.” And before he can say anything, she’s explaining, “I understand there’s things you need to get done, get caught up on, but the Bloodline can survive another day without you taking charge.” She sighs and cups his face, reminding him, “today was a lot for you. The least you can do is take the rest of it to just….be.”

She’s partially expecting him to push back, maybe even some irritation for her “speaking” on his behalf only for him to ask, “how did they take it?”

Shit. She wants to lie, feels like it would be an easy short term thing and maybe it would. But, the fact that she’s already keeping this pregnancy from him is more than enough secrecy for her.

“Paul seemed more scared than anything. Rikishi….he didn’t like it, but Dwayne backed me, so it was fine.”

A flash of anger appears in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if he likes it or not. If you say something, he needs to fucking do it.” And this is what she wanted to avoid. Him getting upset when he doesn’t need to. “I’ll handle it.”

Solana shakes her head. “That’s not important right now.” Because it really isn’t. Especially since she’s already handled it. “Why don’t you change? Lay down. I’ll fix you something to eat. If I start now, I can have it ready by—” 

She’s stopped by Roman reaching her for her, his hands on her waist as he says so quietly, “stay with me.”

It’s such a quiet, little thing, but it��s something he’s wanting.

Something he’s needing. Thus, the answer is obvious.

Solana nods and reaches for the middle of her skirt, hiking it up enough so that she can climb on top of his lap. Roman moves them back on the bed as she lays on top of him, snuggling herself into his chest as he wraps his arms around her, holding her. 

“Thank you,” he says after kissing the top of her head. The vulnerability in his voice is aligned what she’s seen and heard in him off and on all week. “I don’t…..I don’t know if I could have handled with this without you.”

His words cause chills to sprout up her spine. Another thing she can relate to. The loss of her mother was something she once thought she would never recover from, largely because she had to deal with it alone.

But, Roman isn’t alone.

And, he never will be again. 

Holding him a bit tighter, she promises, voice clear and firm, “you’re gonna be okay, Roman."

And, he is.

She’s going to make sure of it. 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Me: don't make Charlie's habit of twirling / spinning Vaggie into a THiNG it can just be CUTE with no other headcanons behind it-

also me: what if Vaggie always loved dancing but took being an exorcist very seriously bc of the whole "learned to trust people on the battlefield" thing so the only time she felt she had an excuse for dancing with a partner was when she called it "training" or "unarmed sparing" and goaded Lute into doing it with her (Lute being Adam's second and Vaggie one of his best girls) (what, is Lute scared of not being able to keep up with her-?)

Lute: "This, is stupid."

Vaggie: "It's just like sparring."

Lute: "Then why can't I use a sword."

Vaggie: "The point is learning to read your opponent's body and move with it. A weapon only gets in the way."

Lute: "Or maybe you know which on of us would win in a real fight."

Vaggie: "OR maybe it's nice to practice WITHOUT someone losing feathers over it."

Lute: "Only losers lose feathers. If they don't like it they should start WINNING."

Vaggie: "Just put your fucking hand on my waist and do a box step."

Lute: "A what? Put my hand- where!?"

Vaggie: "Forget it. We'll dance like we're in a damn period piece ballroom scene. You can at least survive spinning me, right?"

Lute: "SPIN you?"

Vaggie: "Just hold up your hand and-"

Lute: "We look dumb enough as is! I'm not making myself look SILLY just so you can do a stupid spin."

Vaggie: "Fine."

Lute: "You need to watch yourself. Exorcist are heaven's first line of defense- we are the divine blades guarding the pearly gates. We need to keep ourselves sharp, focused- If you slip even once-"

Vaggie: "I said fine! I get it! Alright? God let's just, let's just get this over with..."

And then she's in hell, a year or so after Lute grabbed her wrist and pulled her eye-first onto a sword instead of a dance,

and it turns out the princess of hell is an eager and willing dancer, even if she's maybe not the most graceful or easy to follow- but it's the kind of challenge Vaggie loves-

(and not the only thing Vaggie loves)

-especially when Charlie's the one who cleared out a space, put on a playlist, and waved her into the middle of the room so they could laugh and bow / curtsy before making tracks across the carpet-

all of this, even though Charlie's still rusty at dancing, never was into it other much other than as another way to flail around to a beat, and here she is now, seriously trying to remember or learn all the different steps Vaggie shows her

this time it's a waltz

Vaggie's been avoiding waltzes. And sure enough she finds herself spacing out in the middle of it, coming back to the excited sound of Charlie's voice

Charlie: "I think we're doing it!"

Vaggie: "...hm?"

Charlie: "The waltz! It's been ages but, this is about right, right?"

Vaggie: "Oh uh, yeah. You've got it. Told you you would."

Charlie: (laughing) "And I told YOU if we made it through this it'd be because you're so good at making ME look like a good dancer! Even when my hooves keep snagging on the carpet... Even when you're a million miles away."

Vaggie: "Shit. Sorry."

Charlie: "No it's fine! Good practice for me leading!" (leading them onto a new patch of floor) "So! A lot on your mind?"

Vaggie: "Just remembered something, is all."

Charlie: "Waltz related?"

Vaggie: "I wouldn't compare this with that."

Charlie: "Aww, shoot." (pouts) "Well give me a few months and I'll get there."

Vaggie: (chuckling) "Charlie, you're already WAY past the last dance partner I had."

Charlie: "Wow. That bad huh?"

Vaggie: "What'd I just say about you and dancing?"

Charlie: "That at least I'm not totally the absolute worst ever?"

Vaggie: "Yeah no. Try again."

Charlie: (grinning) "I'm better than they were."

Vaggie: "You sure are. Actually trying counts for a lot, honestly."

Charlie: "You make trying things a lot easier." (hoof catches) (stumbles) (vaggie steadies her) "Case in point!"

Vaggie: "We really gotta remember to roll up the carpet next time."

Charlie: "Orrrr you'll just have to go on catching me!"

Vaggie: "I'll do that with or without the carpet."

Charlie: "Right!" (face hot) "Er so, were they clumsy too? Lacking in the whole smooth moves department?" (blushes MORE)

Vaggie: "The moves were fine, the ego got in the way a bit."

Charlie: "Ego?"

Vaggie: (sighs) (rolls eye) "Apparently twirling me would've looked too silly."

Charlie: "Wh- Twirling you?"

Vaggie: "Spinning. Whatever. They cared about that a lot and- I know I know- it's a dumb thing to still be hung up on."

Charlie: "Well I'd be honored to look silly with you!"

Vaggie: (laughing) "Okay?"

Charlie: "Can I spin you?"

Vaggie: "You really don't have to."

Charlie: "So we can do it on three? One. Two-"

Vaggie: "Really it's- watch out, table at 3 O'clock-"

Charlie: "-Wheeeeee~!"

Vaggie: "WHOA- that-" (breathless) "Now THAT was a spin."

Charlie: "Eheheh. Whoops?"

Vaggie: "Oh no, no whoopsing your way out of this one, I'm gonna need to inflict some payback spinning of my own." (grins)

Charlie: "Uh I'm kinda tall for-"

Vaggie: "You ever been lifted?"

Charlie: "I mean when I was a kid sure, but I'm like a foot taller than-"

Vaggie: "On three. One."

Charlie: "-Vaggie you come up to maybe my shoulder-"

Vaggie: "Two."

Charlie: "-not that you can't do anything you set your mind to, obviously! I'm just not sure how-"

Vaggie: "Three."

Charlie: "Hwha- OH!" (gleeful) (laughing) "Ohhh my gosh-!"

Vaggie: (smug) "There's more than one way to twirl a girl across the floor."

Charlie: "Spinning WHILE lifting!?"

Vaggie: "Fun right?"

Charlie: "SO MUCH FUN! Can we do it again!?"

Vaggie: "Sure-"

Charlie: "Ooh ohh can I do it to you too? Can we take turns??"

Vaggie: "Not worried about looking silly, huh?"

Charlie: "No! Why would-" (stops)

Charlie: (stops their dance)

Charlie: "Vaggie, I.... I really don't know why anyone wouldn't want to be silly with you. Or how it could ever be more important than seeing you happy like this."

Vaggie: "...Not everyone's like you, sweetie."

Charlie: "Or maybe everyone just needs to actually see you for once."

Vaggie: "I'd rather just stick to you for now. If, that's okay?"

Charlie: "Always."

(dance resumes, much slower, much closer)

Charlie: "It's, it's okay to miss people too, you know. I know, I mean. How much that sucks. If you, want to talk about...?"

Vaggie: "No. Thanks."

Charlie: "You're missing them though, huh?"

Vaggie: "It's not that. It's just, weird how much things change."

Charlie: "Like dance partners."

Vaggie: "Like your reasons for dancing with them."

Charlie: "....Oh."

(do they kiss???) (i have no idea) (maybe Vaggie just relaxes and rests her head over Charlie's heart) (maybe Charlie tries her best not to think about how hard it's beating)

(maybe somewhere up in heaven, an exorcist with a sword does a box step while training, slips, and slices her target in half in fury when she realizes it)

maybe Vaggie always loved dancing but had to end up in hell before finally getting to dance the way she always wanted to

or maybe

it feels like Vaggie never danced at all, until she had Charlie to share it with

[norizzsainz]

🌶️ NFY : GRAND PRIX WINS AND EXPOSÉS

[ carlos sainz x singer!fem!reader ]

[ summary ] carlos' and y/n's breakup comes as a surprise to many of their friends. no one ever thought the couple would ever break up, but alas, y/n was always ready to do whatever was best for the love of her life — even if it meant breaking up with him.

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━━━━━━━ MARCH 24, 2024 : MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA

“i’d just like to point out and say that i didn't have a say in attending this party tonight.”

you grumbled under your breath as everyone took their seats in the private lounge of the club.

“i didn't either.” oscar muttered from behind you, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. “can't even make a damn decision in my hometown, jeez.”

“osc, baby, hush.” lando was buzzing with excitement already, giggling as he looked at his teammate. “for you, i shall play the best house music there is.”

oscar blinked softly, looking over at his girlfriend, lily, who gave him a sheepish smile of encouragement. “yeah, that's what i was fearing.” he quipped, his voice barely audible.

the entire group turned towards the entrance when the other partygoers hooted and cheered, joining along as the ferrari boys made their entrance.

your gaze landed on carlos, hating how he still never failed to take your breath away even when he wore a simple shirt and jeans. gods, he was a beautiful man.

“earth to y/n.” you snapped out of your daze when max called out to you, a knowing smirk on his face. “you there?”

“oh, shut up.” you muttered in embarrassment, trying to direct your attention to something else.

but alas, the universe had different plans.

even when everyone was crowding to congratulate carlos on his win, he seemed to forget everything as soon as his eyes landed on you.

he quickly excused himself, his entire surroundings fading into black as he quickly made his way towards you.

“hey.” carlos greeted you softly as he stood in front of you, barely sparing a glance to anyone else. “you came.”

“you didn't really give me a choice.” you shrugged nonchalantly, though you were feeling very chalant. “congratulations on the win, by the way, smooth operator.”

carlos' smile brightened as he heard the teasing nickname, relieved to see you were feeling somewhat comfortable in his presence unlike the other times.

he hoped things would work in his favor tonight.

as the party was teeming in full blast, carlos did his best to give you your space, but he couldn't help but be drawn towards you throughout the night.

it was always him scooting closer to you, looking like he was going to talk to you before he moved away, chickening out at the last second.

even max and yuki, who were drunk off their asses, noticed carlos' pattern, wondering what he was up to.

unable to watch the pathetic scene any longer, charles shoved carlos in your direction, giving him a look that clearly said, ‘get on with it already, you coward.’

“uh, hi again.”

carlos wasn't sure why he was a nervous mess. he was usually very confident and charming, but now as he stood before you, he was nothing but a muddle of nerves.

“carlos.” you greeted him, raising your voice slightly so he could hear you over the club music. “hi again.”

“y/n.” he spoke up, reaching out to hold your arm as if he were afraid you’d walk away from him. for the second time. “look, about what you said the last time we spoke...”

you immediately shook your head, not wanting to go down that lane. “carlos, we don’t have to talk about it. i just want to forget about it all and—”

carlos’ grip on your arm tightened, stopping you from speaking. “amor. you are doing that conflict resolution thing again. don’t do that. all i wanted to say was that i’m gonna keep my promise and i will—”

before carlos could continue any further, everyone’s attention darted to lando as he let out an unidentifiable sound, some hybrid mix between a laugh and a scream.

“oh, my fucking goodness!” lando laughed in disbelief as he stared at his phone, his eyes widening in shock as the realization settled in. “carlitos! what the fuck?!”

kika and kelly stood behind him, reading the contents of his phone over his shoulders. their eyes widened in sync, lips parting in surprise.

“guys. sky sports gossip posted.” kika stated, causing everyone to reach for their phones. “you have to check it out.”

you looked from lando to carlos, wondering what your ex-boyfriend had done to land up on the sky sports gossip page and get such a reaction from the others.

your jaw was pretty much on the floor as soon as you finished reading the article and the comments it had received, your eyes widening in surprise. you skimmed through the apology post, your heart skipping several beats as you realized that carlos was the one who was behind everything.

everyone was just as shocked by the revelations, even the drunken pair, max and yuki, sobering up after seeing the articles and the aftermath of it all.

“carlos…” you couldn’t even find the words as carlos just smiled at you softly, tilting his head as if to say, ‘i told you so’. “you are absolutely insane, you know that?”

“insane is a bit too harsh, no?” he chuckled in amusement, his eyes crinkling as his smile widened.

“i promised, didn't i, carina? that i’d make it right. and i hope i did.”

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[rosesareredrosa]

Memories of Friendship and Suprise

Slytherin boys and Pansy x fem reader (platonic)

Summary: Its my birthdayy today so decided to make a fic about y/n having a surprise birthday

w/c: 1010

The dungeons of Hogwarts were typically cold and unwelcoming, but tonight, the Slytherin common room was filled with warmth and anticipation. The usually dark space was transformed, decorated with shimmering green and silver streamers, flickering candles, and a massive banner that read "Happy Birthday, Y/N!" hanging above the fireplace.

Pansy Parkinson stood in the center of the room, directing the final touches with a sense of urgency. Draco Malfoy lounged on a nearby sofa, twirling his wand lazily, but with a smirk that showed he was pleased with their work. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were hanging the last of the enchanted decorations, while Mattheo Riddle leaned against the wall, watching everything unfold with a thoughtful expression. Lorenzo Berkshire was fussing over a magnificent cake, ensuring every detail was perfect.

"Is everything ready?" Pansy asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

"Relax, Pansy," Draco drawled, his smirk widening. "Y/N won’t suspect a thing."

Pansy rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "It just has to be perfect."

"It will be," Blaise assured her, adjusting a flickering candle on the table. "Y/N’s going to love it."

As the clock neared midnight, they all took their positions, ready to surprise their friend. The lights dimmed, and the room fell into a hushed silence as the door to the common room creaked open.

Y/N stepped inside, looking tired from a long day but instantly confused by the darkened room. "Hello?"

In an instant, the lights flickered on, and the room erupted in a chorus of cheers.

"Surprise!"

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as they took in the decorated common room and the grinning faces of their friends.

"Oh my god, you guys!" Y/N laughed, clearly touched by the effort that had gone into the surprise.

Draco was the first to approach, handing over a small, wrapped box with a smirk. "Happy Birthday, Y/N."

"You didn’t have to do all this," Y/N said, though the smile on their face showed how much they appreciated it.

"Of course, we did," Pansy said, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. "It’s your birthday, and we wanted to make it special."

As everyone settled into the cozy room, with the fire crackling warmly, Pansy clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

"Alright, listen up! Since it’s Y/N’s birthday, I thought it’d be nice if we each shared a memorable moment we’ve had with her. What do you think?"

Y/N blushed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. But they couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through their chest at the idea.

"Who wants to go first?" Pansy asked, looking around.

Draco Malfoy, ever confident, spoke up first. "I’ll go," he said, his smirk turning into a genuine smile as he looked at Y/N. "Remember our first Potions class together? Snape paired us up, and you practically saved my skin. Goyle’s cauldron had exploded, and I was ready to hex the entire class until you figured out the antidote. I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for that."

Y/N chuckled, recalling the chaotic scene. "You were so annoyed. I thought you were going to curse the whole dungeon."

"I might have," Draco admitted, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But you managed to calm me down. That’s when I realized you were someone I could trust."

Blaise Zabini was next, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Y/N, do you remember when we snuck out to the Astronomy Tower to watch that meteor shower? Filch almost caught us, but you were the one who pulled me behind that tapestry just in time."

Y/N grinned. "How could I forget? My heart was racing the entire time."

"Exactly," Blaise said, shaking his head in admiration. "You were so calm under pressure. That’s when I knew you were someone special."

Theodore Nott spoke softly, his voice almost shy. "There was a day when I was having a really rough time, and you found me in the library. You didn’t say anything, just sat with me. It was exactly what I needed, and I’ve never forgotten that."

Y/N smiled warmly at Theo. "Sometimes just being there is enough."

"It was more than enough," Theo said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Lorenzo Berkshire leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "Remember when we pranked the Gryffindor Quidditch team? You came up with the idea to charm their robes to flash neon pink."

Y/N burst out laughing. "They were furious!"

"Best prank ever," Lorenzo declared. "And totally worth the week of detention we all got."

Mattheo Riddle, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. His voice was low, almost hesitant. "There was a day after I had a fight with my father. I was by the lake, and you sat with me. You didn’t ask questions, just stayed there. I’ve never forgotten that."

Y/N reached out, placing a hand on Mattheo’s arm. "You needed a friend."

"And you were there," Mattheo said simply, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering light of the fire.

Finally, Pansy spoke, her voice filled with affection. "Y/N, from the moment we met in our first year, you’ve been like a sister to me. We promised to stick together no matter what, and we have. I wouldn’t have survived Hogwarts without you."

Y/N felt tears welling up in their eyes as they looked around at their friends. "Thank you, all of you. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had."

Draco smirked, trying to hide the sentiment in his expression. "We had to make sure it was memorable."

"And it has been," Y/N replied, their voice full of emotion. "I’m so lucky to have you all in my life."

As the night continued, filled with laughter, stories, and the warmth of their friendship, Y/N knew that this was a moment they would treasure forever. In the heart of the Slytherin common room, surrounded by the people who had become their family, Y/N felt truly at home.

[ameliathornromance]

“Is that him there?”

Wind blasts through the train tunnel, past you and your Orc Boyfriend. Your Orc, raised an eyebrow and followed your finger pointed.

The person you were referring to, a human male with waterfalls of black hair, curling at his shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot and contoured with black rings, matching his dark hair.

The phrase, ‘Love, not hate’ tattooed above his left eyebrow. His scowling at passers by, wrinkled nose and judgemental stare opposed the important sentiment he decided to ink his face with. Sitting on the bench, he jogged his knee to an invisible jig, chain around his neck swaying.

Your Orcs’ eyes flicked from the phone screen in his hand, to the suspect and back to the screen. “Yup.” He tucked the phone away in his jeans pocket. “Now, let me handle this.”

“No,” you put a hand against your Orcs shoulder, stopping him from moving towards the subject. “We talked about this, you always come on too strong. And this isn’t too dangerous is it? It’s just an escort job.”

The Orc wrinkled his nose at you, “don’t say it like that, you make it out to be that we’re some kind of prostitutes.”

You rolled your eyes, “you knew what I meant. I’ll go and make contact, you hang back behind me and step in if it gets to be too much!” And without waiting for a response, you approached the man.

“Hey, Mr Mimac.” You started gently. The last time Mr Mimac had been seen was three months ago in Monaco… Snorting some kind of white powder, surrounded by Fae show girls and gambling away all the money his… ‘law abiding’ father had given him as a 21st birthday present.

God knows if he was on anything now.

But that’s why you and your Orc had turned up. Your duo went by many names in underground spaces: Good & Bad Cop, Brains and Brawn, Summer and Snow – fitting really, considering both of your conflicting appearances & approaches.

Orcs and Humans don’t normally get together like the two of you do. But it’s good to have a balance on perspectives, isn’t it?

Even if you disliked the brashness and ruthless behaviour of your boyfriend, you couldn’t deny that it paid off to have a scary guard dog with you wherever you went. It made you feel safer, especially when dealing with things like this.

Mr Mimac Junior didn’t even spare you a glance, eyes still glancing around the stations platform in the same critical gaze. “We’re here on behalf of your dad, he’s asked me and my partner to bring you back to him. He’s very worried about you.” You explained as delicately as possible.

“Fuck off…” The Junior turned to you, his scowl deepening. “I don’t care what my father asked you to do.” His voice slurred slightly, a strong chemical smell hit you like icy water.

You opened your mouth to respond, try to ease him into coming with you. But there was no time.

“Alright,” your Orc Boyfriend spoke up from behind you. “The lady asked quite politely.” He growled.

Still, Mr Mimac did not move. He sent a glare at your Orc, “so? I don’t take orders from anyone, do you know who I am?”

Uh oh.

“This is how it’s going to play out, hm?” Within an instance, your Orc was in front of you, hands leaned on the benches arm rests, bent down to the Juniors height.

The man’s eyes widened, leaning as far as he could before hitting the tiled wall behind him.

Any trace of irritation had gone from Mr Mimac’s face as your Orc continued, “My lovely lady may be polite, but me?” Your Orc Boyfriend drew a sharp breath, air between his large tusks. “I’m not so nice. You’re going to do what the lady says, otherwise your father is going to get a bloody pulp of flesh, and when he asks why you turned up in that state, I’m going to say that you were refusing to co-operate and I had to use some light force… I might just have to even break that pretty little necklace you have,” your Orc flicked a dangling diamond chain from around the man-child's neck.

You stifle a sigh, covering your forehead and blocking your eyes from the scene.

“Now, you’re going to apologise and come with us quietly.” Drawing himself back to you his full height, your Orc looped his thumbs through his belt loop, waiting for the Human to respond.

The man’s eyes darted to you, then back to your Orc. “’m sorry.” Mr Mimac squeaked.

“Better.” Your Orc jerked the Junior standing, the three of you marching out of the train station.

*

Mr Mimac Senior thanked you both profusely as his son was led away by his mother. Mimac Senior handed you a briefcase and sent you both on your way.

Getting back into the car, you cracked open the briefcase. Taking a stack of bills, you examined them carefully as your Orc Boyfriend turned the ignition and turned the car around.

After checking the bills authenticity, you snapped the case closed. The clicking of the cars indicator punctuated the air.

“I told you I could handle it.” You said, quietly.

“You did. He was just behaving like a jackass.” Your Orc replied, checking the lane before pulling out of the drive way. “I’m not going to let anyone talk to you like that.”

Despite the point being lost on your Orc, you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. “Thank you.” You meant it, how could you not? He was only looking out for you. “I feel bad, you’re always doing the dirty work. You should get some time to sit back and handle the easy stuff.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad. Remember what we agreed? I get my hands dirty, you keep yours clean and deal with business.” The car stopped at the traffic lights. "You’re smarter and better at negotiating.”

Engine humming, the streaking of red light illuminating his appearance, your Orc turned to you. “I love you, you know." He held his hand out to you.

You took it, intertwining your fingers with his. “I love you too.”

[ddejavvu]

Hi i love your sirius/remus x animagus!reader,,, can you please write james potter x animagus(squirrel) reader?

James always carries nuts such as acorns and sunflower seeds to give her🥹❤️ just pure fluff please

made me think of that one new girl scene where nick opens jess's bedside table and finds her night peanuts

--

When Remus is instructed to fish James's scarf out of 'his bedside drawer', he reaches for the top one. Because of course he does, because who is asked to open someone's bedside drawer and chooses the bottom one? Of course James meant the top one, otherwise he would have specified the bottom one.

He does not mean the top one.

Instead of knitwear, Remus finds a disastrous array of- nuts? Nuts and raisins and berries and seeds, for god's sake, in James's top bedside drawer. Loose. Filling the entire space.

He stands frozen, hand still clutching the knob to the drawer.

"James," He says, voice calm and cool, "Why are there nuts in your nightstand?"

Sirius snickers, makes some joke about 'forgetting to put them in his pants this morning', but Remus doesn't react. He can't react, he's petrified solid in his spot by the sight of James's strange collection.

"Oh, that? That's for m'girlfriend." James answers, like it's an explanation. Like it solves the problem, like it answers Remus's many, many question; 'Oh, right! His girlfriend, that makes sense. 'Cause she's a squirrel.

"Is she a squirrel?" Remus voices his thoughts aloud, tone bitter and tight.

James's shoulders tense slightly, raising towards his ears, and he nods slowly, "Uh, yeah, actually. 'Finished the transformation last week."

Oh.

"Oh," Remus's eyes are still roving over the heap of sunflower seeds and dried cranberries but he forces himself to shut the door, "So- so, what, she sleeps in there, or something?"

James laughs, a guffaw as he grins at Remus, "Don't be ridiculous, Moony, I don't make my girlfriend sleep in my nightstand. I've been taking a handful with me to class every day so she can snack."

Only James Potter would think that sleeping would be more ridiculous than scooping a pile of nuts into his pocket every morning before class for his girlfriend who can turn into a squirrel.

"Right." Is all that Remus can manage, and he goes through the motions of retrieving James's scarf from the bottom drawer this time, "Here's your scarf, Prongs."

"Thanks, mate." James nods, catching it when Remus tosses it in his direction. He's getting ready to head down to Hogsmeade to meet with you, and Remus briefly wonders if James already has a pocket full of raisins.

"You heading down with us?" James asks, watching Remus gather his jumper, slipping it on over the white tank he'd slept in.

"No," Remus shakes his head, stuffing his feet into his shoes and ducking his head as he beelines for the door, "I'm going to the hospital wing; All of a sudden I need a cure for a headache."