#WHAT COULD HAVE POSSIBLY PREVENTED THEM FROM TALKING ABOUT HIS CLOTHING

[damned-punk]

I’ve been going through a lot with my self esteem and how I view my body lately. I would love something with Kid enjoying an afab reader who’s plus size. Thank you!

Satisfied (Kidd x Reader)

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Content Warning: self esteem issues, suggestive language

Content Description: you’re having complex feelings about yourself and all Kidd wants is for you to see yourself as he sees you ♡

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It had been one of those days where everything just felt off. From the feeling of fabric against your figure from outfits that you once loved to the rays of sun shining against your skin, it was all wrong. You wanted to fall away into yourself, to disappear or shrink to some standard that was anything other than what you were now. It made you ponder why your partner would want you when you didn’t even want yourself, it was exhausting. You’d avoided Kidd for nearly the entire day, occupying yourself with random tasks around the ship and engaging with as little of your crewmates as you could manage.

Most of them brushed your behavior off as symptoms of sleep deprivation or simply being too preoccupied in what you were doing to chat, but your close friends knew that you were bothered. Killer could immediately sense that something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t place exactly what was up. He hadn’t heard any yelling, crashing, or cursing so he quickly ruled out an argument with the Captain. He was at a loss for what else could possibly be plaguing you. Killer lingered next to you for a while, making himself appear busy while studying your expressions and body language.

“I’m thinking I might make shrimp scampi for dinner tonight, does that sound good (Y/N)?”, he asked nonchalantly, prompting some semblance of a conversation to break your silence.

“I’m good with that, whatever you guys want.”, you replied without looking at him, continuing to straighten up the room.

You took your leave shortly after, Killer was unsatisfied with your answer but it was obvious you weren’t ready to talk. A part of him wanted to pry but he resolved that it might be better to turn to Kidd for answers. He located the Captain, sweaty and leant over a contraption in his workshop, and questioned him on how your morning had went.

“I was up before (Y/N) and by the time I was out of the shower, she was gone.”, Kidd asserted, somewhat perplexed as to what had prompted the question.

“You haven’t seen her after that?”, Killer asked again.

“Alright, what the fuck is going on?”, Kidd retorted, unsure of what Killer was getting at.

“I don’t know, but I think you should go talk to her.”, Killer patted Kidd’s shoulder, “She’s been out of it all day. Not talking to anyone and keeping herself tucked away, something’s up.”

The two men stood and thought for a second. Kidd went through yesterday’s events and even considered that he might’ve missed an important date but neither of them could come up with any feasible reasoning. If you’d gotten into it with a crewmate, they’d surely already know by now. There had been no change in bounties that they were aware of and you hadn’t mentioned wanting or needing anything that they couldn’t provide.

Kidd wiped his face and washed the grease from his hands, it’d gotten warm in his workshop so he’d long since abandoned his shirt. He figured you might like that, a trade of vulnerability or whatever when he cornered you to talk. Killer wanted to supervise, partly to ensure that you were okay but also to prevent Kidd from making things worse. You’d returned to the cabin you shared with Kidd after the short conversation with Killer, cleaning up after Kidd who could sometimes be messy.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror hanging from the bathroom door, the figure in front of you looking unfamiliar. You adjusted your clothes and tried to level with how others may see you, but your thoughts remained unsavory. Spiraling from feeling disconnected to your own body, you considered the possibility that your time with Kidd was limited. What would you become after? Tears brimmed at your waterline, how could you expect Kidd to want to be with you when you couldn’t even want to be with yourself?

The door suddenly swung open and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Kidd eyed you and made his way to the bed, sitting on the corner and patting the space beside him. You hesitantly joined him, purposefully pushing the bathroom door open so that the mirror wouldn’t face the two of you. He put his hand on your knee, gently squeezing and kneading the soft skin.

“What’s up babe?”, Kidd asked, lightly bumping your shoulder with his own.

He was having a hard time concentrating as the shirt you were wearing showcased your breasts, a little too nicely in his humble opinion. You noticed and huffed a laugh at him, maybe this was enough for him. Maybe you were enough for him. Surely he wouldn’t go through the trouble of all this if he were unhappy.

“Seriously, what’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet today.”, he asked again, this time forcing himself to focus.

“Nothing much.”, you replied, averting direct eye contact, “What’ve you been up to today?”

“You in front of that mirror didn’t look like nothing.”, he ignored your question, your content expression faltering, “Your eyes are all watery and shit.”

“I’m fine, Kidd.”, you refuted his concerns, a futile attempt to calm him down.

“Talk to me (Y/N), I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t give a fuck.”, he pressed you further.

You considered your options, weighing the pros and cons of divulging your innermost insecurities to him. You’d always been open with him about things that mattered, but this was a different kind of vulnerability. This was self-hatred, something that you worried he’d view as weakness. This was not something circumstantial that would blow over in time, this was a part of you as a person.

“I’ve had a hard time with myself today.”, you began to explain, “I look at myself and don’t recognize what I see… or maybe it’s more that I don’t like what I see. I was thinking about you and what you see in me.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. Kidd was bewildered, unsure of what to say. He wanted you, every part of you. You fit into his life seamlessly, everything about you complimented everything about him. He needed to articulate that to you and not just convince you to move on. He wished you could see what you are from his perspective.

“I see a strong, beautiful, kick-ass person. You know shit that I couldn’t even hope to think of, always knowing what to say and how to unfuck the most fucked up situations.”, he said with an unusual tenderness in his voice, “I love you, I want you, and I need you.”

Your chest tightened and the tears returned, you looked up at him to see such a warm expression. Despite his roughness, Kidd was an amazing partner. He was always attentive to your needs and undoubtedly put forth so much effort into keeping you satisfied within your relationship. You felt so guilty for dropping all of this onto him, it was unfair for him to have to share this burden with you.

“I’m sorry, I love you too Kidd.”, you squeezed the hand that rested on your knee and attempted to stand, sinking right back down into the bed when he wrapped his arm around you.

He crashed his lips onto your own, passionately sucking and nipping as a way to materialize his feelings. His hand rested against your back, rubbing and massaging as an added layer of security. He trailed his kisses across your jaw, planting one final peck against your forehead. He flopped back against the bed, taking you with him and holding your head against his chest. He let his fingers wander, playing with stray pieces of hair that framed your face and enjoying the tranquility of lying with his person. He didn’t give a fuck what you thought was wrong with yourself, he was just happy that you’d given him a chance to be with someone like you.

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[jlf23tumble]

Sea said something about you today and big larries

Oh contraire, seasurfacefullofclowns said something today about influential larries, which I'm definitely not, but I love that her thinking so just underlines all the other completely incorrect bullshit in that post, the way she ALWAYS doubles down on the dumb, no thoughts, head empty because if it's not about hand-wringing over incorrect shit that makes Louis look pathetic and undermined when he's anything but, it's not worth doing. I also love that she has me blocked, so the only way I know about any of this is via email notification, so yeah, I saw it, these high tumblr walls, they came up short, etc.

[pipsyy]

caught...

sub!hamzah x f!reader smut (lowkey perv!hamzah if you squint)

hi everyone! i thought of this idea at like 3am a couple nights ago and it has been plaguing my mind ever since. please enjoy! message me requests please! i am desperate for prompts.

summary: after losing a few of your panties, you begin to suspect your shy roommate Hamzah. but, coming home early one night, you are met with a sight that would change things for good.

warnings: smut under cut! DON'T read if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 2575

For weeks, you had been losing your underwear. You would put your clothes in the washer, then the dryer, but by the time you got back to your room and folded your clothes, one, or sometimes two, pairs of your panties were missing. It was concerning, to say the least. However, when you lost your favorite pair (pink cotton with white lace and bows), you began to get frustrated.

“Hamzah?” you ask your roommate while he’s in the kitchen getting snacks.

“Mmh?” he responds, mouth full with doritos.

“Kind of a weird question—I mean, you probably have no fucking clue—but have you seen my panties anywhere? I can’t find them.”

At the mention of panties, Hamzah’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink. “Panties?!” he asks, mouth still full. He swallows thickly. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. What do they look like?”

“Um-” you felt yourself blush a light shade of pink, thinking about how embarrassing it was talking about your panties with your hella attractive roommate. “They’re pink and white—bows too.”

If possible, Hamzah flushed an even deeper shade of red. “O-oh, no. No. I haven’t seen them anywhere,” he huffed out an awkward laugh, looking anywhere else in the room but your eyes.

“That’s okay,” you say, giggling awkwardly. The tension palpable in the room. “Just…you know, if you do see them, let me know.”

—

Later that week, after getting home early from a party, you were met with the most surprising of circumstances. You entered your apartment and kicked off your shoes; the 4-inch heels had killed your feet. Every light in the apartment was off—save for the small light emanating from the clocks on the oven and microwave—and it was dead silent. Eerily silent. You knew that Hamzah was home, I mean, he never left. But it was only 11pm, which was way too early for him to go to bed. You at least expected to hear him typing on his computer, or hear the faint sound of his laptop playing a show, or hear him yelling at whatever stupid game he was playing with Martin. But no. Absolutely nothing.

Just then you heard it. Although you weren’t exactly sure what “it” was. A faint, but deep, groan, as if someone was crying out in pain. You strained your ears, listening for that noise again. There! There it was again, the exact same noise, although this time you could hear a faint squeaking following the groan.

“Hamzah,” you hesitantly call out. You creeped forwards in the direction of his bedroom. The deep sounds followed by squeaking got louder as you neared his room. The door was ajar and you peeked through the crack. You almost let out a loud gasp at the sight before you, clapping your hands over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping your lips. Hamzah was stretched out on his bed, head tilted back as he thrust his cock into his hand. You shot back from the door, face reddening. You felt embarrassed for staring so unabashedly at the dark-haired man in such an intimate situation. Even so, you felt a throbbing deep in your core and you knew that if you reached down to touch your panties beneath your dress, you would be soaking wet. Slowly, mentally slapping yourself, you peered through the crack in the door again. Hamzah’s head was tilted back in pure ecstasy, pretty lips spilling whines and groans as the bed squeaked with every thrust into his hand. You watched, panties growing wetter by the second, as he reached next to him and brought a piece of fabric up to his nose, inhaling deeply and letting out a heady whine. Your eyes widened as you recognized the slip of fabric as your favorite pair of panties. The pink ones with the white lace. 

Your name spills from his lips, eyes rolling back into his head. Holy fuck. You sat on your knees, rolling your wet folds against the palm of your hand. You couldn’t believe the sight before your eyes. Your roommate—who you’ve had a crush on since moving in with him—was jerking off to you, your underwear pressed deeply into his nose. Hamzah’s hips stuttered, edging dangerously close to release.

“F-fuck, y/n,” he whimpered. “S-so good. So fucking pretty. G-gonna, gonna cum, shit.” At this desperate confession, a high-pitched whine escaped your parted lips and your eyes widened, clapping your hands over your mouth. Hamzah abruptly stopped his motions, whipping his head in the direction of the unprecedented sound. His glossy eyes met yours, fucked-out expression directly mirroring your own.

“S-shit,” he said breathlessly, stumbling out of bed and covering his erection with the sheets around his legs. You shot backwards from the door, tumbling directly into the wall. Hamzah fumbled to get pants on, and ran towards you, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Holy shit, y/n. I-I, um, I had no idea that you were home. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t do that. Not if I knew that you were here.”

You were still sat on the floor, pink blush fast-spreading across your cheeks. You felt a coy smile tickling your lips. “Were you—” you looked up at Hamzah, feeling a dangerous rush of confidence flood your mind, “Were you jerking off to me?”

Hamzah’s eyes widened impossibly large. “I–no. I mean…no,” he said. “Definitely not.”

“Really,” you said seductively, rising up from your position and stepping closer to the trembling man. “Because…” you leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I swear I heard you say my name.” A deep red blush spread across Hamzah’s cheekbones and he swallowed audibly.

His voice lowered a decibel. “No,” he whispered. “No, I wasn’t.”

You smirked at how flustered you made him. “I didn’t take you for a liar, you know.” You pushed past the taller man into his room. The moment you enter, you felt your core throb, the smell of sweat and sex and and something purely Hamzah penetrating your nostrils. You made your way to his bed, sheets strewn carelessly, and picked up the pink underwear that had fallen to the floor in Hamzah’s rushed attempt at maintaining his dignity. You dangled the fabric from your extended pointer finger.

“So what are these then?” The panties sway from your finger, and Hamzah’s puppy-like eyes follow the cloth to and fro like a tennis match. 

“I–,” he gulped. “I don’t know how those got there.”

You stepped toward him. “So you’re really just gonna play dumb with me then, huh?” You took careful step after careful step until you were inches away from the timid, trembling man. “You’re not dumb, Hamzah.” You reached up until his glossy eyes came face-to-face with your panties. “Take them.”

Hamzah’s dumbfounded expression stared back at your own. You shifted the fabric forward, directly into his big nose, and he shakily inhaled, eyes almost rolling back into his own head. “F-fuck,” he whimpered out. Swiftly, as if they were never there in the first place, you removed the outstretched panties from his prying nostrils. The look he gave you, as his eyes slowly opened, made your legs weak and your core throb. He looked as though he would give you the world, or anything you asked, as long as he could be face-to-face with that stupid piece of cloth again.

“Tell me what you want,” you asked, voice low and seductive.

“You,” he whispered, eyes darting from your own, to the wall, to the panties still clutched in your hand, and back to your own.

You smile at his bashfulness. “A little louder,” you said, feeling cocky. You reach up to push back his dark, messy curls from his sweaty forehead.

Hamzah’s dark eyes met your own and you melted. “You…I want you. I want you so fucking bad it hurts.” You felt your core tighten. Hamzah looked at you with glossy, pleading eyes. You looked down and noticed the erection still straining in his pants. You turn around and walk to his bed, sitting on the edge. You pat the soft bedding next to you.

“Come here.” Hamzah moved at the speed of light, by the time you blinked he was sitting down next to you, hands politely together in his lap. You lean over to straddle Hamzah’s thick thighs, dress riding up, the thin cloth of your panties doing nothing to stop you from feeling his erection pressing against your wet folds. You intertwine your hands behind his neck while he looks up at you with intense adoration and devotion. Your hands cup his cheeks.

“What do you want, baby?” you ask. You reach down, beneath the waistband of his gym shorts, and grasp his hard length. Hamzah’s parted red lips elicit a whiny gasp as his large hands firmly grasp your waist. 

“I want–” he starts, barely able to string a sentence together as you begin to move your hand up and down his length. “I want to be inside you.” 

You chuckled coyly, moving your hand faster. “And what makes you think you have the right to be inside me.” Groans and gasps tumbled from Hamzah’s wet lips. His head was tilted back, a purely fucked-out expression bedazzling his beautiful face. 

“I just—,” he blissfully moaned out. “I just want to feel you.” His hands snaked up your dress, reaching up to grasp at your covered tits. His big hands connected with your sensitive nipples that were poking out through the fabric. A dirty, stupid idea shot into your head. You pull away from Hamzah, untangling yourself from his roaming hands. “W-what?” he said, confusion written all over his pretty face. 

“I don’t know,” you respond. “I’m kinda pissed at you right now. Do you know how fucking gross it is to come home to your roommate touching himself to you? Desperately jerking off, my favorite fucking pair of panties in your grimy hands. You’re a disgusting little slut, aren’t you?” Hamzah’s covered cock visibly twitched in his gym shorts. He let out a heady whimper at your vile tone and words. “Oh…” you said, a dark and naughty gleam twinkling in your eyes. “Do you like that shit? Do you like it when I call you a stupid fucking whore?” Hamzah’s hips grinded against the air, desperate for any sort of friction against his aching cock.

“I think,” you say, reaching down to pick up the pink panties you had discarded to the side, “That I don’t want a disgusting slut like you to touch me, not with those filthy fucking hands of yours.” Using the elastic of your lacy panties, you tie Hamzah’s hands together behind his back. He whimpered at your touch, the light graze of your fingers shooting electricity down his spine and into his desperate member. Once Hamzah was fully tied up, unable to move his hands to touch your body, you flung your current pair of panties off and sat back on his lap again. You reached into his pants once more, pulling his weeping cock from within his shorts. You rubbed his erection up and down your wet folds, looking down to see the soaking, wet mess you were making of his cock. You line his tip up with your hole, sliding him into your wet cunt. The stretch was unbearably pleasurable and Hamzah let out an unfiltered groan.

“Shut up,” you told him, placing your hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you.” You began bouncing up and down on his cock, whines and moans escaping your parted lips at the fulfilling sensation deep within your cunt. Hamzah looked completely pathetic beneath you, eyes filled with desperation as he clumsily attempted to thrust up into you. You grab onto his curls, yanking as his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Hamzah lets out another whine at the tugging sensation. Immediately, you stop your motions and slap him across the face.

“I told you to shut up,” you said roughly, voice rattling with an emotion you had never thought could possess you: dominance. And you were enjoying it. You enjoyed seeing this tall, muscular man writhe beneath your smaller body, pathetically attempting to engage and make you feel good. An idea flitted through your head. You reached down to the floor and grabbed your discarded panties. Squeezing his cheeks together in your hands, you opened up his mouth and shoved your panties in, effectively gagging him. Hamzah let out a muffled groan at the feeling of the used cloth being shoved between his lips. Hips jerking into you now at a frenzied pace. The increased speed of his cock inside you felt like heaven, and you let out a high-pitched moan, collapsing into his shoulders. You rode his cock violently, Hamzah’s pathetic face reflecting your own shining pleasure. Hamzah’s hips began to stutter, his gagged moans becoming increasingly frequent as his eyes fluttered closed, and you knew he was close. You reached down to touch your clit, hoping to reach your climax at the same time. The combined pleasure of touching your clit and the sweet stretch of Hamzah’s cock hitting that delicious spot deep inside you made your head tip back in ecstasy. Hamzah’s eyes widened and you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“Do you want to cum, baby?” you asked sweetly, rocking your hips softly against his. He nodded his head aggressively. Your walls fluttered around his cock, and Hamzah looked in pain, nose scrunched and eyes squeezed shut. You realized, as you continued to rock your hips, that he was waiting for your permission to cum.

“Oh,” you say sweetly. “You want my permission, hmm?” You giggle softly as Hamzah tries to talk, the soft fabric in his mouth preventing him from doing so. “You can cum, baby, I want you to.” At this admission, Hamzah’s face tightens and his hips stutter and begin to shake. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, spurting cum against your tight walls, sent you over the edge. Hamzah’s chest was heaving as he watched you writhe on top of him, your pleasure furthering his own. You let out a high-pitched whine as you come down from your high. Hamzah’s eyes were wide, glossy, and pathetic as they met your own. You pulled the pair of panties out of his mouth and he sucked in a deep breath. You slid off his length and reached behind him, untying your panties from around his wrists. He let out a sigh as his hands became free, rubbing them together to recirculate the blood flow.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling a deep sense of embarrassment. “I’m sorry! That was fucking crazy! I didn’t at all mean to take it that far.”

Hamzah looked up at you, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Are you kidding me? You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to do that with you.”

“Yeah! But…like that?” you respond. “I-I mean…I slapped you. I feel like I took it too far.” You move to leave the room, embarrassment bleeding all over your face in a deep red color. Hamzah reached you in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist from behind, head resting on your shoulder. He placed a sweet kiss on your neck.

“Trust me,” he said. “That was exactly what I wanted.”

[papakhan]

I'll make my own post actually. I think it's an under appreciated detail and piece of characterisation how the courier is buried not only fully clothed but also carrying stimpaks, caps, and their weapon of choice (and we know its THEIR weapon because the game gives you whatever type of weapon you scored highest in with skills). And sure its just a game mechanic thing but they could have just as easily had Doc Mitchell say "here's some stuff of mine to help you out" but he explicitly says "here, this is all you had on you". Also I need you guys to ignore the DLC dumping all that shit on you at the start of the game okay forget about it. I know it's funny but it's not what I'm talking about

It's interesting no matter who you pin this behavior on. If it was Benny preventing the Khans from robbing the courier as they would any raider victim, then that's just another layer of him thinking he's being respectful about the ordeal. Or at the very least enjoys having power over the Khans and ordering them around.

However my headcanon is that it was the Khans who buried the courier in this way. And I say this because they bury the courier in the same way they bury Chance, another Khan whose grave you can find in game, in his armor and with his weapon. And I just think it's fun and interesting to think that these guys who, from the comic we know wanted no real part in any of this and are only here for money, laid the courier to rest in the most respectful way they knew-- like one of theirs.

And actually according to one of the trailers the couriers hands are unbound while in their grave so. And they're still fully clothed. So actually Doc Mitchell giving the courier the vault suit is more likely because he had to dispose of their og clothing because yknow. It'd be filthy from being in the ground and on the couriers comatose body (do you know what the body does when it's comatose. Trust me you don't want those clothes back) and also knowing emergency medicine the courier was probably cut out of their clothes because if you're concerned about a head/neck injury cutting clothes off is less disruptive then trying to wiggle an unconscious person out of them and possibly causing more damage.

Anyway. Either way the Khans and Benny still show more respect to the couriers "dead" body then the courier/you the player show to any of your victims I mean. How many powder gangers did you strip naked and leave to rot under the desert sun? Or legionaries? Or raiders? Or the Khans themselves? Much to think about

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

-

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets. 

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think. 

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body. 

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew. 

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

-

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year. 

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand. 

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

-

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works. 

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?” 

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place. 

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did. 

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter. 

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face. 

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation. 

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

-

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

-

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks. 

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls. 

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to. 

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine. 

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her? 

Will she even let you?

-

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment. 

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt. 

He has always been all she has and needed. 

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

-

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

-

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing. 

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard. 

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control. 

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

-

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

-

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class. 

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even. 

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls. 

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug. 

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully. 

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice. 

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up. 

“Have it your way.”

-

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers. 

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit. 

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does. 

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you. 

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance. 

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

-

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt. 

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

[mythicmanuscripts]

I have read all your Aemond stuff multiple times, I can't get over how well you characterise him!!

You wrote about Aemond's very awkward but oddly sweet reaction to thinking you were ordering him to do something and then from there how he loves to do things for you.

So, I was thinking, there was probably a period between giving Aemond that order and him showing his full subby side and letting you dom him. So, I was wondering if you had thoughts on this? Like the other stuff he does, how he reacts, etc I just thought it could be cute!

I hadn't even considered this but oh my god yes you are so right there would be a period before Aemond starting being properly subby with you where you basically just had the world's scariest personal assistant and every single person in the castle was beyond confused so let's discuss this more cause I love it.

So after the incident of Aemond thinking you wanted him to pour your wine and then you having to get an empty glass just to let him do it and then thank him, what follows is a very confusing two weeks or so.

Aemond knows how LOVED how it felt to pour your wine and be praised for doing so. He just felt so proud? He knows it's such a small thing but seeing that he pleased you just made him feel so warm, made him feel like maybe this marriage can work.

However, the problem with Aemond is that there's no way in all the seven hells that he's actually going to tell you this. That is much too scary and vulnerable and he's so sure you'd think he was utterly pathetic for that.

Though that doesn't stop him from constantly trying to be in situations where you would ask him to do something? He doesn't want to admit it out loud, so he kinda just follows you around and tries to get between you and any objects you might need and runs over whenever he sees you carrying something, just anything he can think of. He also bans the servants from being present at meal times when it's just you and him because he doesn't want to lose an opportunity to pass you something.

(He's pathetic, he knows this and he hates this but he can't stop hunting for that feeling he had when you thanked him)

To Aemond's credit, it does work sometimes. Sometimes you will ask him to get something or pass you something and every single time he just smiles so sweetly.

At first you're genuinely concerned about him because this is absolutely nothing like the Aemond people talked about and the Aemond you met before the wedding. So yeah you're a little confused, but you can tell that for whatever reason, Aemond seems to really enjoy doing those things for you.

Part of you thinks you must be imagining it, because you can't work out why he could possibly want to do those things. So you decide to put this to the test properly.

When the servants bring your washed laundry to your chambers, you tell the to just leave the clothes on your bed and not pack them into your cupboard. The servants are very confused, but they can't exactly force you to let them back away your clothes so they leave them. As they're about to leave, you ask them to please find Aemond and let him know his wife would like to see him in her private chambers.

About 20 minutes later, Aemond arrives. He's in shock that he's even allowed in your private chambers. As with most high class arranged marriages, you and aemond each have your own private chambers and then a room you two share. Aemond didnt think he would ever end up seeing your private chambers and he feels very special that you even let him in.

And then, without explaining anything, you ask Aemond to pack away your clothes into the cupboard. You thought for certain that he would outright refuse that and then things would go back to how they were before.

But to your shock, Aemond actually smiles?? And he immediately starts folding the clothes, taking the utmost care and double and triple checking that all your dresses are hung correctly to prevent wrinkles. While he does this, you just lay on your bed reading, glancing up at Aemond every now and then.

It's such an odd sight, the feared one eyed prince folding laundry and seeming utterly content.

When he finishes, he turns to face you and let you know. When you look up at him, he's looking at you and seeming very nervous.

When you thank him, his shoulders relax a little and then very softly he just asks, "Did I do well?"

You promise him that he did, and then you really go into it, telling him that he did so well and he's helped you so much and you're so privileged to have him as your husband. He's smiling when you finish thanking him, looking so relaxed.

There was something about the way he looked at you then, something so oddly vulnerable, something precious. You're not quite sure why you ask this, but you ask him if he would like to lay with you and you'd read your book out loud for him.

Aemond immediately nods, removing his shoes and sword and then getting onto your bed. He starts off laying opposite you, but his eyes keep on drifting down to your lap so you tell him he can rest his head on your lap if he would like.

He starts to say that he would never ask that of you, but you interrupt him and say, "You've done so well, come lay here with me, you've earned it" and that makes him stop immediately and shuffle forward to get close enough to rest his head on your lap. He hugs your legs, curling around you and closing his eyes as he listens to you read.

You're not quite sure what is even happening, and it's very clear that your new husband has more to him than meets the eye, but he's also clearly not yet willing to explain himself more. But this is okay for now, this is more than okay.

Pretty soon your number of personal servants halves just because Aemond keeps on doing so many things that they are supposed to do.

[cultofdixon]

Secrets kept for another’s safety, until you lose it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Some Saviors just can’t let go and go for what’s important to Daryl Dixon. But little did he know about more than losing his partner. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss

Requested by: Anon

Just because the Saviors War is over, doesn’t mean it’s completely dealt with. People have their vendettas and everyone will forever be scarred by the actions of Negan, apart of the Saviors or not.

When Negan was taken to prison instead of hell, the group decided that it would be best to have shifts of their people to watch The Sanctuary until they’ve fixed everything. Or until they put someone in there for a more permanent position.

After a month in and it was Daryl and Y/N’s turn to watch the place. Both having their own imprisonment to the place because of Negan. So they weren’t all too happy to be back. But the night gave them time to themselves.

Which led them on the roof this night…

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Daryl asks, putting the joint back to his lips watching Y/N finish putting up the last of their clothes on the clothesline. “You haven’t talked in a bit”

“Am I really that talkative?” She laughs softly, tossing the extra pins in the empty laundry basket. “I’m just enjoying the night with my husband. What else more could I ask for?”

“Could go dark on yea and say for Negan to be dead”

“Well you’re not the only one wanting that” Y/N sat on the stool while Daryl laid on a mattress they had brought up there. Neither of them want to live inside the walls anymore. “Can we just think toward the future?”

“We can” Daryl pushed himself to sit up, offering the joint to her as she shook her head. He stared a bit confused before shrugging it off. “Again, sunshine…what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

Y/N fell silent once more before looking out toward the woods trying to find a good start to what she wants to talk about.

“You remember when you first held Judith?”

“Lil’ Ass kicker, yeah?”

“Do you remember what you told me afterward? When you handed her off to Hershel?”

The confused look on his face gave her answer.

“You said I don’t think I’d be cut out for this if I were Rick.”

“Why are yea bringing that up now? Are you—-“

“No!…No…” Y/N visibly slumped. “It’s just. The threat is gone. We have a home that is ours. Walls to protect us from the dead…we could. Do it. Have a child. Have that future…”

Give Daryl some credit when he has thought about this before. Having a child with his wife…all of their love put into a single human being. But all the anxieties that came with that thought flooded his mind.

“I don’t wanna lose you like Rick lost Lori” For something that happened years ago, it still haunted him. Especially with the scares they’ve had before a true moment of peace came.

“Daryl…that…that was going to happen to Lori regardless…she had a c-section with Carl, any baby after that was bound to come out the same way. This would be a first for me. We could prevent the possibility of needing a c-section”

“But there’s still a chance. I…” Daryl stopped himself to avoid her eyes and hang his head not ever wanting to think about that possibility. But then again…what was he going to do? “I just can’t” he whispers which led Y/N to bring herself to his level and coax his gaze back onto her. “I can’t lose you…I…I’ve lost enough and everything about how I’d be a terrible father aside I won’t be able to raise our child alone if I lost you…I will always need you”

As much as it broke Y/N’s heart to know his feelings and to have to push aside hers because the last thing she would want is to lose or hurt her husband…the tears fell from her eyes as she presses her forehead against his.

“Okay. Okay…You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here…just me” Y/N brought her arms around his shoulders bringing her face into the crook of his neck as Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around her holding her close.

The things you do for love will always be something…that will always be changing

About four months later…

Y/N finally emerges from the basement living she and Daryl live in under the Grimes’s residence. She gave a smile to Michonne who said “good morning” in her arrival watching her friend join her and Judith at the kitchen island.

“Think you can handle breakfast?”

“Yes, I think I finally got over that ill spell” Y/N took a seat at one of the barstools smiling to Judith beside her before drawing her attention to the quick footsteps making their descend down the stairs.

“Hey! You’re up here, how yea feeling? Yknow Daryl—-“

“Has been having you ask every day since I came back from the Sanctuary not feeling well. I’m doing okay. Better than before”

“Great to hear that, I’ll tell Daryl in person when I make my rounds to the other communities” Rick smiles approaching Judith who was happy to see her dad. “First thing, take this little one to the teacher to watch her while we’re all out”

Michonne gave Y/N a confused look as she tiredly turned to her lifting her head from her hand.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry. So I don’t feel entirely useless”

“You’re allowed to take it easy” Michonne was stern with her words which brought the confusion out of Rick’s expression while he picked up Judith heading toward the door.

“I think I’ll be fine” Y/N shot a stern look at her friend as Michonne instantly waited for the front door to close, ultimately for Rick to leave. “The baby will be fine”

“Y/N, when are you going to tell Daryl so this doesn’t have been a secret between you and I? You’ve mentioned about a conversation you had with him that doesn’t quite add up to the fact that you didn’t——“

“He doesn’t want to have a baby.” Y/N frowns forming fists as she had the habit of digging her nails into her flesh to avoid the crying. “He doesn’t want to have a baby with him and I promised I wouldn’t. But I still got knocked up. Now he’s going to lose me or I’m going to lose him” the tears came anyway as the frustration was obvious in the discomfort in her face which led Michonne to maneuver around the island to bring herself beside her friend letting her rest her head on her shoulder as her arms caged her. “All I wanted was a family with the man that I love but the factors of being good enough or dying unexpectedly just floods that man’s mind and hell I can’t blame him for any of it. But now I’m plagued with it while I carry his child”

The two didn’t hear the click of the door finally closing. All that mattered was Michonne comforting her friend until it was time for the day to get started.

“I’ll be helping Gabriel rebuild his chapel with a few Saviors we have taken in for rehabilitation to show they can do something good. We are thinking of making it also the leading to the farm” Michonne stated as she walked Y/N to the pantry. “So I will be around if you need me. I’ll also keep an eye on the saviors. I know what some of them have been saying but we haven’t come across one angry with Rick or Daryl or literally any one of us”

“Are you really trying to say you’re watching out for my safety when I’m gonna be confined to a chair and a notepad for the most part”

“Yes, yes I am. Plus…the infirmary is right next door and I know Siddiq is doing his inventory and preparing shipment of medical supplies we’ve found on the runs we had recently.”

“Michonne”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling” Y/N laughs opening the door to let herself in. “I’ll holler if I need anything” she says halfway inside when Michonne quickly reminded her about the no heavy lifting which got a scoff out of the woman.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N groans out of boredom while sitting on the stool in the pantry. She stared out the window watching people walk passed or the few groups carrying wood and metal around for the walls and new buildings. Inventory was done, restock of what they have was done, and she was about to get started on the shipment for the Kingdom when she heard the door open.

“Michonne I really don’t need you watching—-“ Y/N stopped speaking when she watched the unfamiliar man step in quietly, assessing the environment. “Uhm. Can I help you with anything?”

“I was told by that scary priest that we hold the extra building supplies in here on occasion when the shed ain’t organized” He stepped around the pantry looking for himself before looking at Y/N as she couldn’t shake this familiar feeling. “You’ve got nails? Maybe a better hammer than this shit?” The hammer she didn’t notice before only confused her on where he pulled it out from. But asides from that, Y/N got off the chair and went to grab such for him.

“How’s the construction going?”

“It’s going. That Rick guy has us doing a lot just has his woman bossing us around” He scoffs looking at the jarred goods they have while Y/N knelt down to carefully go through a box for a smaller box of nails. “How can you even do what Rick asks y’all to do?”

“Have you even met Rick? He does the right thing, most of the time” Keeping Negan alive was the wrong one.

As Y/N rose to her feet with the box of nails she watched the man pull off the Polaroids that were stuck to the window. Just for a better look but it made her uneasy thinking he was going to get rid of them.

“Family?” He questions lifting up the ones with Glenn and Maggie, watching Y/N nod as he fixated on one with her and Daryl before putting them back. “Find’em?”

“Yeah, here” She handed off the box hearing him thank her before stepping out. But before she could even straighten out the pictures and take a seat, Y/N didn’t hear the door close entirely.

It didn’t take long for what to happen, happen.

The second she rounded the corner…Y/N flinched slightly being up close to the man without a name. She looked down to find a few nails shoved deep into her side. The shock made the pain not come right away and she was still experiencing it while he drove them to the point he couldn’t.

“You are just as dumb as you were back when you were his wife.” He glares into the deep pits of her soul as Y/N lifted her head from watching the blood spill from her side. Her mind racing to one thing. “Rick shoulda killed him. Your bitch dog of a man shoulda killed him. Maybe even the sword lady. Anybody. Then you all would’ve been seen as stronger instead of weak ass beings.”

“I-…I—-“ Y/N felt the tears spill and he grabbed her face to make her force eye contact.

“Let me take you away from everybody and I’ll watch them suffer” then the man quickly removed his hand when he heard voices outside. He pushed her aside but the blood loss led it to be a bit more dramatic as she fell to her knees.

As he made his escape through the back, Y/N slumped against the wall hesitant to touch her side. But they weren’t in prime condition, they could have some traces of rust and she can’t afford an infection if she wants any chance of that surviving.

A few were hard to pull out and one was embedded deep that Y/N contemplated letting it stay in but she was already this far.

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

…

Daryl… Y/N sobbed as she used her knife to cut into her to pull out the last nail that was embedded deep. She had to stop the bleeding so she could go get help and knew she had towels in the other room out of the foyer. But the blood loss was too much that when her weak body crawled about halfway there, it gave out.

“Daryl”

“I know this shithole sucks but yea said you’d be here earlier” Daryl clearly was in a mood while working on his bike, and with Rick only crossing his arms with an annoyed expression after his words. He knew he shouldn’t have expressed all of that. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”

“Did something happen?”

“No…” Daryl frowns fiddling with a tool in hand. “Y/N hasn’t radio’d me today. Michonne was gonna give hers to my girl so I can check up on her but nothin’”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Plus I’ve got uh…an update of my own regarding your wife” Now he had to be careful. He did hear everything in the kitchen that morning but Rick isn’t the best at de-escalating the situation.

But it felt like fate for him to be interrupted by his radio in that exact moment.

“Rick—-Are you with Daryl?”

“Gabriel? Yes, why?”

“Michonne—-Hilltop” his end was cutting out and the urgency only stressed the retired sheriff and huntsman. “Bleeding—-Stopped—-Other reasons—-Y/N”

“Gabriel. Who’s injured?!” Rick shouts annoyed as the silence grew for a moment.

“Y/N was found bleeding—-Attacked—-Go to Hilltop”

“Load up. Forget the bike” Rick stated even though the second Daryl heard it was confirmed to be Y/N, he went right into the driver’s seat of Rick’s truck. Rick quickly got in the passengers and didn’t wait another minute to tell Daryl.

The accident happened a few hours ago before Gabriel radio’d Rick. He only comm’d him as per request from Michonne to update him and to get Daryl on their current actions of getting Y/N to the Hilltop. For their ultrasound machine. The one from the Sanctuary got moved to the Kingdom to be repaired by a retired technician.

Y/N sat up in bed in the medical trailer not liking the feeling of the IV in her arm and the antibiotics Siddiq had her on. Made the sick feeling return and the nausea meds never worked on her.

“Daryl is on his way” Michonne frowns sitting in the chair beside her as Maggie sat at the edge of the bed with her hand rested on her calf. Both being protective of her in her current state.

“I didn’t get a name of the guy…”

“Hun we don’t have to do that now” Maggie assured her. “Aaron and Rosita are looking for the guy back home with the description you gave before they moved you here. We don’t have to talk about it at all and focus on you staying alive and healthy”

The tears returned as Y/N pulled her hand away so she could hide her face in them. As she sobbed she didn’t hear the sound outside of 1. The car stopping in front of the trailer. 2. Daryl shouting at a few people. And 3. The sound of a Hilltop resident screaming after Daryl shoved them out of his way to get inside the trailer. The second the door opened and his worry expelled from him, Michonne and Maggie got up from their spots moving so he could get close to his wife.

Michonne motioned for Maggie to leave with her as she instantly went to Rick to talk about the guy that attacked Y/N.

Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her feeling her grab fists full of his vest, making him want to squeeze her but he instantly pulled away when she winced. He started to check her person himself even if Siddiq does a great job with his assessment after dealing with the main problem. He even checked her bandages watching the discomfort grow on her face along with a few tears still falling.

“Are you okay? What did that bastard do to yea? Is the peanut okay?”

“What?”

“Is the baby okay?” Daryl’s voice cracked when asking that question as it only made Y/N cry even more giving him mixed signals.

Someone told him she thought and as much as that brought relief, it brought a lot of regret and pain that she didn’t tell him herself.

As she pulls from his touch, Daryl watches her reach for the table beside the bed grabbing a piece of paper before returning and giving it to him. He carefully took it into his hands looking at the picture of the peanut that was very much still there. He exhales relieved, feeling his own tears spill and the softness of her hands gently wipe them away.

“I’m sorry—-“

“No.” Daryl cut her off setting the photo in her lap so he could take her hands into his. “I…I shouldn’t have said what I said months ago…I didn’t want to push you away ever if this were to happen. Cuz let’s be honest with ourselves, we fuck like bunnies. It was bound to happen” he broke out in a smile listening to Y/N laugh to his words. He planted a kiss on her cheek as she kept that smile of hers. “We…we can die to anythin’ and that shouldn’t stop us from living.”

“Daryl…”

“Let’s go home, sunshine. Let me protect the both of yea”

Daryl helped Y/N get in the car before approaching the small group that was fixated on the woman.

“There’s a lead”

“You know I’m not gonna hesitate to kill that guy” Daryl stated and instead of receiving the usual Rick talk about no need to go far he was genuinely confused. “What”

“I’m going to help you get the son of a bitch. He does want to take us out because of Negan”

“You’re willing to be bait?”

“If Rick gets hurt, your ass is next” Michonne threats with a smile before joining Y/N in the car giving them a bit more time to discuss then joining their partners.

The day progresses into the night and Daryl found the right moment to slip away from his spot beside his wife so he could leave the house to take care of business.

As the man climbs over the wall after hiding out until night, he stumbled on his landing and when he straightened up he was face to face with Rick.

“Seriously. Just let me go”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”

“Like you of all people will pull the trigger” He scoffs, making the mistake of reaching for his weapon because that led to a bolt piercing him in the side of the skull.

Rick watches the body fall limp to the floor before turning to Daryl emerging from the shadows.

“There’s gonna be more like him” Rick stated. “We won’t kill them all”

“Anybody, and I fucking mean anybody…who comes near my pregnant wife the way that guy did? Will meet the same fate”

And on that note, he returned back to his spot beside Y/N who instantly rolled over to face him and bring herself close.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

What if instead of Wednesday being in the room when Bianca knocks on Xavier's door, he's cuddling with his new girl? Hides under the bed or closet or whatever

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

You rubbed soft circles into Xavier's waist where his shirt was riding up while slowly kissing. His sketchbook had been abandoned and kicked to the end of the bed, no longer of first interest. Despite being alone, neither of you had any further intentions.

Xavier hummed at your touch and leaned into you like the soft and needy kitten he was. You smiled and continued your caresses.

Your and Xavier’s relationship was completely unknown to your Nevermore peers. After his very public breakup with Bianca Barclay, Xavier didn’t want to flash his new relationship to everyone — especially Bianca. She didn’t call the shots and tried many times to get Xavier to take her back, but he refused every time.

Besides, sometimes things are better if you keep them just yours.

A knock on the door forced you and Xavier to break apart. You didn't want to, very comfortable entangled with him on his bed, but there was a possibility this was the house master passing for his evening checking.

Xavier pushed you into his bathroom in prevention and closed the door. The floor was still wet from his shower, but it wasn’t dirty like under a bed.

He tamed his hair a little and opened the door, finding a smiling Bianca on the other side. Slamming the door in her face was tempting, but Xavier didn’t want to make a scene.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her inside. ‘’You're not supposed to be up here,’’ he said flatly.

‘’Good to see you too,’’ Bianca snarked back.

‘’How did you get past the house master? Did you use your siren powers?’’

‘’Not while wearing this.’’ She touched her amulet necklace.

Xavier walked away from her, keeping a distance between them. ‘’What do you want, Bianca?’’

You could hear in his voice that his interest in her was completely gone, but she refused to bury their relationship. She kept searching for a spark through the burned embers to revive the flame. Unfortunately for her, Xavier was fueling another fire.

‘’I wanted to see how you’re doing. I’m sorry about Rowan. I know you and him used to be close—’’

Xavier huffed. The last time he heard her talk to Rowan was in fencing class and she called him lazy.

‘’Since when do you give a damn about Rowan?’’

‘’I care about you.’’

He couldn’t deny that. Although she made him doubt his own feelings for her, Bianca wasn’t an evil soul. She always cared about Xavier, whether they were in a relationship or not.

Bianca stepped up to him by his bed and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. ‘’We were good together, Xavier.’’

‘’Were we?’’ he asked, looking up at her. ‘’Or was that how you wanted me to feel?’’

The walls of the bathroom were thin enough for you to hear their conversation close to perfection. Thin enough to hear the lingering pain in Xavier’s words, still hurt by Bianca’s past actions.

‘’I made one mistake and you can’t forgive me—’’

‘’There is nothing to forgive. I just want to move on,’’ Xavier said, tired of going over the same things every time they talked. ‘’I broke up with you, remember? Now, please leave before the house master comes for bed-checks.’’

Regardless how sorry she was, the manipulation of his emotions was something he could never forgive Bianca. His whole life is controlled by his father in a way or another; the only thing Xavier has control over is his emotions and if someone take that from him, he’ll have nothing left.

She accepted her defeat and turned to leave, but on her way out, Bianca caught something on the adjacent empty bed. A jacket.

‘’Isn’t that Y/N’s jacket?’’ she asked, recognizing the clothing.

For a short few seconds, Xavier thought he had been caught. He found himself stammering while searching for a quick but good enough lie.

‘’She…she forgot it in the quad a-and I was planning to give it back to her tomorrow.’’

Bianca raised an eyebrow, doubting him. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow at the lake. Make sure to get enough sleep…or not.’’ Her blue eyes shifted to your jacket. ‘’I’m gonna crush you anyway.’’

After her departure, Xavier groaned. She knew you were there.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar   @aphex2winn @moompie   @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx

[ssahotchnerr]

girl dad aaron AMUSEMENT PARK EDITION!!!!!!!

he would spend all his money at the ring toss just to get his girl the prize she wants. he would hold her hand on the swings. he would give into her begging to go on the big drop ride. he would ride in her bumper car, whispering, “c’mon. let’s bump into mommy. it’ll be funny.” he would make sure to smear her in sunscreen. he would let her wear his sunglasses. he would buy her dippin dots and funnel cakes and cotton candy. he would carry her on his shoulders. he would get wet on the water rides with her. he would guarantee they get to sit in the back or front carts (it’s only appropriate to sit in the front on some rides. other rides, it’s only appropriate to sit in the back. he would know which ride requires the back seat and which requires the front because he’s asked around because he wants his girl to have the best experience on the rollercoasters she can.) he would pack so much water to make sure everyone stays hydrated (he’s also got a fanny pack. i don’t make the rules.) he would pose for the cameras with her on the rides (silly faces, bunny ears, kissing her cheek, etc.) and he would obviously buy them and hang them on the fridge until the entire fridge is covered in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

aw aw awwww are you trying to make me cry?????? 😭💞💞💞

baby girl's his ride buddy of the day 🥹🥹🥹 it works out perfectly too. i feel like aaron's not too keen on rides - he gets nauseous easily and can only take so much 😭 whereas you're still okay - so you'll go on the more extreme rides with jack. as the two of you are doing that, aaron's on the more tame rides with baby girl, or standing on the sidelines with her in his arms, pointing out you and jack on the ride 🥰 and for the kiddie rides that don't fit an adult, jack happily goes on those with her hehe <3333 best big brother

aaron's hand is always in hers, she's in his arms, or in a stroller, just always accounted for. he's terrified she'll somehow wander away (although she knows not to) or he knows how easily someone could come swoop her up and take her far away (mosley lane 😭😭😭😭) and STOP the visual of her on his shoulders, in his sunglasses that are far too big for her, gripping onto his hair or his head as she chatters away - pointing out what she sees, what rides she wants to go on, what snacks smell yummy, or simply talking about anything <3333 sobbing

when it comes to the prizes, aaron's definitely paying way more than what that item probably cost to make, and knows it's 'lowkey' a waste of money 😭 but there's no price when it comes to baby girl's happiness, he'll do whatever it takes 🥰 the smile that forms on her face when she finally gets the plushie she wanted??? priceless and it's a memory they'll both hold onto forever - aaron takes full advantage of those type of memories 🥺

the bumper cars!!!!!!!!!!! the true highlight of the day 😭 aaron's with baby girl, you're with jack. hehe you peer over as aaron's sneakily whispering to her and eyeing the two of you👀, you know what he's scheming and tell jack the very same thing 🤭 "we gotta get dad and your sister". the laughs that erupt from both of them as they bump into each other 😭😭😭😭 it's contagious, you and aaron are equally as giddy and are loving every second of it 🥰 they even both insist on riding multiple times just to crash into each other LOL

and omg aaron's prepared and stacked for every scenario possible. extra clothes, shoes, socks are in the car (for each family member) for after the water rides. he packs dramamine, ibruprofen, bug spray. he also strategically plans out when to eat snacks or food - to prevent upset stomachs after eating and going on rides 🥴 he brings a tonnn of sunscreen and applies frequently. omg the four of you are pulled off to the side, drinking water and taking a break - you unscrew the top of a water bottle for jack, simply turn your head, and are met with aaron's hands on your face - applying sunscreen generously for you too 😭😭😭🫶🏻 he also brought hats for extra coverage - jack has a baseball cap, baby girl has a cute lil bucket hat 🥰

and AWWW the pictures 🥹🥹🥹 aaron's sure to get multiples too - one for the fridge, for baby girl's room (a pic of them on her bedside table 😭😭😭😭 especially useful when she misses him when he's gone on a case and she just wants her daddy🥺) and his office 😭<3333

as the four of you leave the amusement park when night falls, baby girl is absolutely zonked 😭 her face is smushed into aaron's neck, arms around his neck, maybe even drooling a bit, completely out. hehe so aaron veryyyy carefully places her into her carseat as to not wake her up 🥹 ugh she had the best day <333

[hyunluvbug]

what is that sound?

pairing: perv!han jisung x afab reader

content: 🔞nsfw!! mdni!! features dirty talk, mutual masturbation 0-0 (under the cut!)

premise: jisung and y/n are best friends who fall asleep on facetime together. both of them experience insomnia so falling asleep on the phone together is a normal occurrence. one night, y/n hears strange sounds from the other side of the line, what is that sound?

word count: 693

a/n: this mayhaps be based on something that did happen to me to a certain extent...yeah- this made me feral to write tbh, hope you enjoy!

"jisung, what is that sound?"

"what sound?"

"i think you know what i mean."

she had just laid in bed, hoping to finally get some sleep. her insomnia had been worsening over the past few days. her best friend, jisung also experiences the same thing. they had both decided to start doing night calls with each other in hopes to help each other fall asleep.

it was now nearing 3 a.m. and she was beginning to feel a tiny bit of sleepiness. but the sounds she was now hearing is what was keeping her awake.

the sounds were rustling clothes and tiny whimpers?

"i have no idea what you're talking about," jisung chuckles.

they both don't speak for a moment, the silence surrounds them both.

"fine, don't own up to it then." she pulls her blankets over her body and rests her head on the pillow. she grabs her phone and flips the camera to show a pitch-black screen. then the sounds resurface again.

a soft whimper was heard every now and again followed by a slick sound.

on jisung's side of the phone, a soft grunt fell from his lips as his hands worked on his cock. he had both of his hands circling and moving up and down. his head was thrown back and he was trying his best to keep quiet. occasionally biting down on his lip to prevent his moans. a few of them end up slipping out now giving away his shenanigans. the thought of her being able to hear any sounds made him want to keep going. feeding off the idea of getting caught.

"jisung..."

he clears his throat, "yeah?"

"are you touching yourself?"

"possibly"

"yes or no?"

he pauses for a moment, "...yes."

"you're such a perv!" she jokes, and he laughs a little. him admitting to it is what started to work her up. knowing she could not see him but imagine him on the other side desperate to cum. at that thought, she begins to fiddle with her pajama shorts.

suddenly, jisung's sounds become louder. louder grunts and whines fall from his lips sending tingles down her body. her hands dives down into her shorts already rubbing her clit with her fingers.

his sounds are still present in the room and she feels her wetness increase.

"fuck-" jisung whispers loud enough to hear. she holds back her own moans as she now inserts a finger.

"y/n..." jisung moans softly.

"i-i- i hope you're touching too." he continues.

"i am." she confirms softly, letting her finger touch every part of her insides.

"fuck that's hot."

jisung lets more moans and groans fall from his lips. letting her know how good she is making him feel. she begins to go a bit faster now letting out her own moans.

jisung turns his phone up louder to hear her irregular breathing and soft beautiful moans. his hands move faster on himself, his legs becoming restless in the sheets.

"let me hear your moans baby." jisung says, his voice now sounding deep and husky.

the pet name spurs her on to be a little bit louder.

"i wish i could be there to touch you y/n. i bet you would cum in seconds. coating my fingers with your cum. fuck- you probably look so pretty c-cumming."

she moans louder from his words. "jisung-" her voice sings as she begins to reach her climax.

"go ahead, cum for me baby. cum for me." jisung slurs, the sounds of his movement gets louder as he approaches his own climax.

she lets out a loud moan as she fucks herself faster with two fingers. her eyes going cross as she sees white. he lets out the loudest grunt yet, and both of them cum together at the same time. now the only sounds are their heavy breathing.

coming off her high, y/n finally speaks, "jisung?"

"hmmm" he hums lowly.

"i am now really sleepy."

jisung begins to laugh. "me too."

both of them fell asleep quickly for the first time in days. their nightly phone calls continued on, they were able to always finish and sleep like babies.

[xjulixred45x]

Can you headcanon of Mark Grayson/Invincible x Scarlet Witch fem reader from Marvel; she is serene, and kind-hearted please?

Awww yes of course! Thanks for the Request!

(SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY😭🫠 HOPE THIS IS OKAY)

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Scarlet Witch! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Spoilers from INVINCIBLE most recent season AND Wanda's Maximoff past(MCU), typical violence, Reader is good but has some heavy trauma, PTSD from both parts, comfort, fluff.

THEY= HYDRA

The life of a reader was quite complicated, even before the powers came into her life.

Living in a poor country, with a poor family, you had to do everything humanly possible to survive.

The reader's parents were good people, hard-working, honest, but thanks to this they were not at home much, they had to feed TWO children after all.

Therefore, the reader spent much of the time with her twin brother, Pietro.

Everything seemed to be going right in their lives, she remembers it well...

It was a quiet day, at night, her parents had been able to buy a television and they were all going to sit in front to have dinner and watch it.

She felt so happy...

...and then the missile fell...

Everything was dark for a long time, until Pietro was able to wake up reader, under the rubble of the house.

Their parents, dead.

Their house destroyed.

And worst of all? The missile was still there... flickering, as if it were going to explode at any moment...

It was the worst week of the reader's life, but the really bad thing was yet to come.

when THEY came into their lives.

The reader doesn't remember their names well, it doesn't matter now, not after what they did.

They saved them, but in compensation they wanted to use them as test subjects, who would help them create "heroes"

and since they had no one else, they went with them.

and the process of obtaining powers...was much more painful and straight out of a nightmare than the reader could imagine.

but they did it.

They got powers.

Pietro super speed.

reader...could almost warp reality.

equal.

but they were powerful enough to flee from THEM and try to seek justice into their own hands.

They were going to go after whoever bombed their house.

That was when they officially met Invincible.

To be fair, there were already reports of some thief with inhuman speed who was stealing in several cities (curiously, mainly food and clothing...)

But this was the first time he had done something BAD like attacking a company and not only that, but he was accompanied.

And at first that was their dynamic, Mark would try to prevent the twins from destroying the weapons company and hurting people, he would receive a beating/lore drop and they would leave due to a tactical disadvantage.

Even if Mark is fast, he can't outrun Pietro or the reader portals.

Which, by the way, is the most difficult to fight.

Mark tries to reason with her when they are still "enemies" while they fight (or rather Mark throws blows and she redirects them with magic) and while he can see that it works, he knows that it is difficult to forgive that easily. especially when you don't have all the context.

Although, ironically despite the initial beatings, Mark ends up enjoying these almost weekly encounters with the twins, especially with reader.

Why? because she is precisely the one who kicks his ass the most.

Don't get me wrong, he doesn't underestimate Pietro, but several of the reader's tricks have definitely left him in trouble several times... more than he can count.

Apart from the fact that while they fight, they talk about anything, the reader gradually opens up to Mark and evolves from being totally hostile to being hostile, but enjoying the dynamics, feeling in CONTROL of the situation.

(Probably on some occasion the reader got into Mark's mind, saw all the trauma he went through, and from there she understood him a little more, she was more understanding as she no longer only saw him as a hero)

apart from that Mark realizes several things.

one, that reader and her brother really don't want to hurt people, two, that they are exclusively going after a specific company, and three, reader is holding back on him.

She dosen't want to hurt ANYONE. None of them want to.

Mark realizes that they really aren't bad people, they just have something to figure out, but he can't just let them hurt people.

..but he could help them if they would let him.

reader is undecided, while Pietro is VERY vocal about it being a BAD idea, since the last time they allied themselves with some organization it ended in a lot of pain.

and, well, Mark understands that VERY WELL.

but at least now they stop attacking weapons installations so brutally. It's progress!

I can definitely see Mark trying to approach the reader like civilians (for that matter, Wanda doesn't even wear a mask) and because they no longer need to fight to see each other, their relationship improves.

Pietro and Mark are still a little tense, but at least he no longer attacks Mark when he sees him😅

Mark tries to introduce the reader to things she might like that she hasn't had the chance to try.

Can you imagine that the reader ends up liking Science Dog? Mark is so confused (and secretly happy) why she likes something "for kids" (mark)':) and the reader would open up about how she couldn't even have those kinds of things as a child, so having the opportunity to reading them even as an adult makes her very happy (:

(It's like the equivalent of an adult buying a toy they couldn't have because their parents didn't have money).

Probably thanks to that, the reader has more predilection for things from science fiction, amusement parks, sweets, etc.

reader healing her inner child😭

and thanks to this, the reader is calmer, more serene, more mature.

now she has a life ahead of her without THEM or revenge on his mind, he can live.

Pietro may end up finding his way in his own way too. probably lending a hand with his speed when needed.

By the time the reader starts having a relationship with Mark, she and her brother probably become some kind of vigilante duo, no, they don't work for Cecil, but you could tell they try to do things right.

Mark also helps them out and defends them if their teammates get defensive.

reader definitely uses magic to do certain everyday tasks, including tidying up when she's at Mark's house. Who knows, she can even remodel if she wants😅

Probably thanks to this, Debbie really likes reader, not only because she is a charming young woman, but because she has a good influence on Mark and vice versa.

Reader and Pietro don't really go to school, so they probably study at home, Mark can give them a hand with their homework! Of course, in the topics in which he is not very VERY behind🤣

They both really enjoy the time they spend together in general. Whether it's reading comics, flying, even when they find themselves patrolling, it's enjoyable.

well, except for Pietro who is now condemned to be the third wheel🤣.

I can definitely see Mark giving some of his old toys to the reader as gifts instead of throwing them away like last season, since as much as she got excited about the comics, the toys left her CRYING. IN A GOOD WAY!!

A part of Mark's heart breaks a little thinking about all the trauma the reader went through for THAT to make her cry.

just like other things.

for example, I think Reader would HATE alarm clocks, especially the ones with flashing lights...

just like she has HUGE claustrophobia and fear of the dark.

Any of those things can cause either a slight tremor or a full-blown panic attack.

and that combined with powers does not end well at all.

Mark is the only one who can calm her down during these outbursts and come out alive😅 along with Pietro obviously.

Also despite the great difference in power between the two, Mark continues to be protective of the reader, not only because of his history of trauma, but also because he told her about the times in which she has been manipulated/used (e.g. THEM) and partly Thanks to the big heart of a reader, Mark is worried that she is a little naive/easy to fool.

although in general it is the reader who saves her skin in risky situations. whether finding it in another dimension, preventing buildings from collapsing while fighting someone, sending an enemy to another planet, etc.

he definitely finds her cute (and hot when things get bad, but this is sfw so).

When the Viltrumites come to Earth, you can bet these protective instincts rise TO A THOUSAND (reader will probably try to use magic on Mark's house so his enemies will have a hard time tracking him down).

Mark introducing the reader to Oliver and her doing magic tricks to entertain him ✨(Mark falls in love again lol)

In general, a couple that supports each other through the good and the bad. together .

(Pietro will forever be the third wheel though🤣)

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[szuyiin]

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ATZ : FINGERING !!

this is a work of fiction & contains: ╰ PAIRING: bf ! top ! atz (separately) x gn ! bottom ! reader ╰ GENRE: smut. established relationship. headcannon. ╰ WORD COUNT: ~ 220 words each member, 1.7k words total. ╰ SFW WARNINGS: use of petnames baby (khj, cs, smg, jwy) darling (cs, smg), let me know if i missed anything :] ╰ NSFW WARNINGS are located under cut to prevent exposure to unwanted content. you are responsible for what you consume.

SZUYIIN'S NOTEPAD — this is a repost from an old blog of mine, this piece is not stolen. proof-skimmed.

-18'S & AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED !!

ABOUT ★ GUIDELINES ★ MASTERLIST

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ NSFW WARNINGS !! ╰ dirty talk. fingering. let me know if i missed anything !!

★⠀⠀PARK SEONGHWA.

nice, sweet, and gentle. never wishing to inflict any pain while he tried to pleasure you. two lubed fingers slowly stretching you before him. the type to like your thighs pressed to your chest while he knelt between them, other hand next to your head to level himself as he simply watched you.

the grip you had on his wrist, trying desperately to make him get the hint you wanted more, didn't matter much to him - paying it no mind as he kept his own pace; another subtle reminder who was in a position of control.

keeping his gaze pointed, he watched as your upper lip twitched, every furrow of your brows and every time your lips parted - he wished to memorize every part of you.

“you look so cute,” seonghwa says, hovering above you while you absentmindedly - almost as if it was out of pure instinct - held the backs of your thighs to press against your chest. the gaze he offered was loving, and in a moment like this, you never expected anything less. “you love being full of my fingers, hm? i know you do.”

★⠀⠀KIM HONGJOONG.

loves hearing you. runs on your whines, whimpers, moans, cries, groans - anything and everything you had to offer him verbally, he greedily wanted from you; giving you everything he had to offer you in return.

the type to like to be face-to-face with where he’s prodding into you, knowing exactly how your face is contorted just by how you sound, he’d want to watch every muscle contract and twitch around where his fingers are shoved into you.

adores hearing you beg for anything more than he was giving you right now, purposefully slowing down his pace or not sliding his fingers as deep when you needed him. you being vocal about your wants and needs is definitely what gets him going the most.

the tips of your lovers fingers pressed against your walls, sliding with ease as mewls leave your swollen lips. “go on, you can be louder, can’t you?” you knew he was mocking you simply from his tone, egging you on and causing your skin to warm from the embarrassment of your neighbors possibly hearing you. “just ask for more, baby. need to hear you say it, is all.”

★⠀⠀JEONG YUNHO.

oh god. just wants you falling apart under him. any way he could break you, have you grabbing for his wrist when you’re close and crying out his name as you finish, he would do.

makes it a competition with himself. always keeping a mental timer going to see how fast he can make you cum just from his fingers stuffed inside you - no other stimulation.

his index and middle finger reaching new depths, teasing you about how you begged for a third, but he could feel how you wouldn’t be able to take it just yet.

wants you to know just how much he wants you, too. free hand holding the back of your knee while your calf rests on his shoulder, his crotch against the back of your thigh as he ruts his clothed cock against you just to be sure you know how badly he wants you, and that its not just you who’s desperate to be touched.

“fuck. . .” yunho curses, pressing his hard cock impossibly closer into the soft flesh of your thigh, the motion causing his thigh to press his two digits further into you. “look at you, just laying here. . . driving me insane just by looking at me-” you cut him off with a groan from yourself, a small smile appearing on his lips at the sound. “if you want my cock, you gotta take my fingers first.”

★⠀⠀KANG YEOSANG.

loves fingering you the most when you're on your knees, face against the surface you found yourselves on while he kneeled behind you, a singular, lubed finger prodding at you teasingly, and nasty words flowing from his lips.

keeps his composure incredibly well, almost so that you feel you don’t have much of an effect on him.

but holy shit, he’s fighting the urge to fuck you senseless - your pleads and groans muffled by your arms enough to have a large tent in his sweats.

but alas, he’ll keep up the act that he was unbothered; at least until you beg for him, that is.

“you’re so noisy,” your boyfriend comments, watching intently as your thighs shake from the unsteady stance you have against your shared bed. “maybe i should shove a few fingers in your mouth, too.” you can feel as weight shifts on the bed, his finger continuing to move as he readjusts to press a kiss to your lower back. “you’d absolutely love being stuffed full of me, huh?”

★⠀⠀CHOI SAN.

oh, bless your heart. san will be ruthless with his actions but thoughtful with his words, perfectly articulated to have a certain effect on your mind and body.

two fingers sliding inside you at the most delicious angle and pace, curling against your walls and having your back arching as you laid spread before him.

he thought you looked so hot like this: writhing beneath him as he spoke oh-so softly, praising you while practically splitting you in half, or rather, preparing you to be.

this was only preparation, there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t cave in when you look at him all spaced out.

“so, so cute, darling,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your calf as it rests atop his shoulder. the look he gave you was close to ethereal, a smile on his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy as he watched where he pushed into you repeatedly. he meets your eyes briefly, slowing his pace and bringing his other hand to hold your cheek in his palm. “you’re so adorable when you’re all spaced out like that,” he pinches your cheek and returns the brutal pace of his fingers. “my pretty baby.”

★⠀⠀SONG MINGI.

not super mouthy, really enjoys feeling you. has you on your back while he kneels between your spread legs, lips almost never leaving your neck or chest as he presses his long fingers into you slowly.

loves it if you’re vocal about your needs, guiding him a bit whether to be rougher or more attentive to the special spot on your neck. if you want him to look you in the eye or kiss your lips instead. he loves if you tell him what you like - wants nothing more than for you to feel the best you can. bonus points when its because of him.

vacant hand will be attached to your hip or leg, kneading the flesh under his fingers and breathing hot air onto your body, feeling you squirm and clench around his digits.

uses the hand on your hip or leg to pull you back the tiniest bit to meet his fingers’ thrusts, wanting to hit as deep as he can to hear you tell him how well he treats you.

“min...” you trail off - unaware if you even had a full thought to begin with - the cool air mingi’s plush lips blew onto your neck where he kissed causing your back to arch involuntarily. “yes, baby? he asks, to which he receives no answer yet doesn’t pine for one either, knowing your desperate call was nothing more than a verbal affirmation of how he was making you feel. he presses a kiss to your neck once more, fingers soothing as they press against your walls. “i’m right here, darling. i’ll make you feel good.”

★⠀⠀JUNG WOOYOUNG.

the mouthiest. doesn’t spend even a second to mentally debate if he should comment on your shaking legs, heavy breathing, or how you cry for him. will always make sure you're aware that he is aware of your actions.

prefers you to be on your stomach or back, laying across his lap so he can feel every jolt and twitch from your body on himself. definitely would point out how his cock hardens to you, telling you how much of an effect you have on him - he loves the response he gets.

the type to - no matter how you're situated - put his palm against your chest. adores being able to feel your heart beat pick up as he continues pumping his fingers into you.

other than that instance, he’d keep his palm flat just above the bump of your ass. not rough, but enough pressure so you couldn’t squirm away - as if you’d ever dream to in the first place.

“aw, i can feel your heart racing, baby. am i making you feel that good?” your lover comments, warm hand sliding under your arm and along your side as the other pushes deeper and deeper inside you, the noises from the added lubricant making the scene all-the-more dirty. the pressure in your abdomen builds, the mixture of his words and actions proving to be too much at once. “look at that, you got me so hard - can’t wait to fuck you like you deserve to be.”

★⠀⠀CHOI JONGHO.

the most notable thing about jongho wouldn’t be how intensely he holds you, but more so how he holds you. similar too wooyoung, keeps you pressed to him just firm enough so you can’t squirm, but offers you just enough space to pull away if you wished to do so.

would like you face down, hips in the air as he sat behind you, one hand kneading the skin of your ass and the other prodding at your hole, the pressure his fingers offered enough to have you pushing back against him and wishing for more.

warm palm pressing on your lower back, his crotch pressed to the back of your thigh as he continues working you open. hand and hips on either side of your shaking body being the only thing keeping you stable, sure that your legs would have given out without him holding you in place.

doesn’t speak much in response to the sounds you make, if you make any. rather, he will give affirmative hums, and - if he feels the time is appropriate - maybe even a chuckle at of your desperate state.

the thumb that swiped across your lower back did little to slow your rapidly beating heart and shaking legs, only adding to the pleasure you were receiving at the hands of your boyfriend. two skilled fingers sink into you and press against your walls, feeling so full from just his prep for later. he watches your fingers dig into the bedsheets, wrinkling them under your palms as a huff of air releases from him in a chuckle, and you’re almost able to hear the smirk on his face.

© SZUYIIN 2024. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, ALTER, MODIFY, TAKE INSPIRATION, OR REPOST MY WORKS.

[prodbymaui]

Dinner Served

hmm, I got a really big problem

PAIRING: mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE: pure filth, public sex, oral sex (giving)

WORD COUNT: 1.3k+ words

SYNOPSIS: already in a dinner with your boyfriend, yet you still craves for something else.

A/N: 'golden hour' got my brain all mush up, enjoy this 1k+ words about pure filth with the one and only, mark lee. stream golden hour and happy reading, everyone!

A fancy dinner at a 5-michelin stars restaurant, something that one could expect from the one and only, Mark Lee, the ever so romantic man most people would do anything to be with. Too bad for them because clearly, the man they desperately desires only have his eyes fixated on you, full of love and adoration.

''We'll have creamed spinach stuffed salmon, smothered filet mignon and a bottle of wine for now,'' Giving the waiter a small smile, Mark dismisses him. He taps away on his phone, eyebrows scrunch to the center in concentration.

''Look-- we're nearing to finish my new single, kinda going through the concepts I want on the music video right now,'' The screen tells you how much progress was made, making you smile in a proud manner. ''What are your plans for the music video?''

Mark doesn't hesitate to go on about his plans and all, why would he? You've always made sure that your boyfriend won't be wary of crossing the 'talking too much' boundaries whenever he excitedly shares his adventures on his job. You love to see and hear him ramble about it, even though most of the time you can't understand anything.

Though, as much as you love the way he's so dedicated about his music, sometimes, the extreme passion results to the lack of attention towards you. It's not like you want him to choose you over his passion, no. You just couldn't prevent the feeling of longing.

Throughout, you nod at him and give comments or questions as interest pricked you from time to time. Now that Mark is distracted on his phone while he searches yet another story or TMI to tell you, you take in his appearance. Wearing his black dress shirt tucked in to his black jeans, watch and rings dawning his wrist and fingers, his quite long blonde hair braided on one side-- letting the other side falls naturally. You thank every possible gods and deities to exists that you are the lucky one to have Mark Lee as your lover.

''Oh,'' Flinching in a faux surprise, the spoon hitting the floor makes a slight tud sound, catching Mark's attention. You get off your chair to pick it up under the table, getting on your knees as you hold on to the hem of your dress, preventing it to ride up.

''Get back, babe. We'll just ask the waiter for a new one.''

''It's okay, I could just wipe it with the napkin,'' You rumble a chuckle when you hear a sound of disgust from Mark, taking back what you said, informing him that it's just a joke. You catch a glimpse of Mark's blonde strand peeking at you from under the table slightly.

''Have you found it?''

''Yeah, I found it,'' Shoving your face at the clothed crotch, you lap the outline of his dick, smiling against it when you feel him jerk, enjoying the reaction.

He gulps, eyes wavering as it roams around the place, observing the different groups of people who's busy chatting and eating. They seem to be indifferent to what's happening around them. Mark sighs, closing his eyes for a quick second before he turns his attention back on you. ''Just be quick, please?''

''Babe-- what do you think you're doing? Get the fuck out of there!'' He whispered but in a shouting manner, afraid that people might notice and see your face situated right in front of his dick. Humming in stubbornness, you fondle the bump, looking up and batting your eyes innocently at Mark when he lifts up the table cloth, cursing when his dark eyes meets your doe ones.

Your lips curves to form a cheeky smile, fingers working their way to open his pants and pull down the zipper, you place a gentle kiss to the certain area which you assumes his tip. Mark, himself, pulls down the front part of his jeans, revealing his near-hard shaft, waiting to be devoured.

Taking the cock in your hands, you move to lick from his balls to the slit of his tip, wiggling your tongue with a weak attempt to dig in the parting line. Giving you a last look, Mark fixes the table cloth, enough to cover your figure and slouches, enabling you to have a much better and easier access.

You suckle the tip lightly, spitting to have it wet. It is when you realizes that you don't have much time before the waiter comes back with your food and wine, so you relaxes your throat, opening your mouth widely enough as you take him fully.

Mark must've been sensitive because his hands travels down to grasps the back of your neck, his hips thrusting upwards slightly as he tries to cut your process of prolonging the activity. You closes your eyes shut, bobbing up and down while you adjusts to his girth, feeling his thighs flexing against your cheeks.

The dick is long enough that you have to use your hand to cover the rest of its length, pumping and circling it, matching the pace of your mouth. With the cock being wet enough, you stays on the head, mouthing and sucking it eagerly, as if you have little to no patience of having his release on your tongue. You let your hands do the work for the remaining length, biting your lip when you see the color of your lipstick staining his cock a bit.

Taking a breath, tears that prickles your eyes earlier finally escapes your lids, running down your cheeks as you push Mark's shaft inside your throat again, reaching the farthest that you can. Oh how you wish you could see your lover's expressions right now. If things are different, Mark will be cursing and whining loudly, his hand will be gripping your hair in a ponytail as he fucks your mouth.

But you're in a public place right now, and he can't do what he usually does, giving you the upper hand and power to control him because what can he possibly do? Thrust his hips feverishly while he holds your head in place and risk the public seeing their dear romantic boyfriend material, Mark Lee, railing his lover's mouth like it's her pussy?

Of course, he wouldn't do that. So you take advantage of it, pressing your nose near into his pelvis, pulling off of him as you passes the work to your hands again, moving your lips to take in one side of his balls, wetting it while you let your tongue taste his flavor, closing your eyes.

Your cheeks makes a contact with the spit on his cock, smearing it messily at the right side of your face. The mixture of saliva and tears on the surface of your skin feels so fucking dirty but that's what makes it hot, especially that you're not caged in the four corners of your bedroom, the possibility of someone noticing your figure under the table stirs the feeling of thrill inside you and Mark.

It isn't that long before your boyfriend tightens his grip on the back of your neck, signalling the nearing of his release. Yet the odds seems to not favor Mark right now as your ears rings at the footsteps you're sure is coming your way, pulling off of Mark completely as you sit back on your chair, fixing yourself before someone comes.

The activity would've been naturally pulled off if Mark didn't let his usual awkward and nervous persona take over him, fully giving it away as the waiter's eyes widens, clearing his throat while he tries to stop the stuttering when he places the foods and wine on your table. Smiling at him, you say your thank yous.

''Can I get a new spoon, please? And here's your tip, I apologize for the trouble,'' The waiter have no choice but to nod, hoping he wouldn't see the same scenario when he comes back with your new spoon.

[ghouldtime]

I need more neighbor König getting protective over his little neighbor.

I do believe he can get very possessive, though I'm not sure that's the word I'm looking for. But he's lost so much, so many people in his unit and people he had once considered friends. He won't even visit his own mother because he's scared for her safety. Maybe an enemy finds out some way some how about her and takes her as leverage. Now she gets to see colonel konig with his gear and mask and barking orders and not the sweet man she's come to know. How would he react or feel?

Ofc when she realizes it's just him and throws her arms around him

I'm sorry but I'm answering this because this doesn't fall under my characterization of him 😭 I can do the last part maybe one day when I'm not sick and have planned everything out in my mind THOROUGHLY

I know you meant no harm by this either!! This is just a bit of a rambly tangent to describe WHO my König is and why he's that way.

(Also stating that reader in neighbor isn't explicitly a she nor are they little in the same way. I write gender neutral for a reason! They're a grown adult)

Like I know it's just an imagine and possible scenario but for me I just don't really see it happening unless quite literally EVERYTHING went wrong. He's got plan A, plan B, plan C, D, and E. Always be prepared.

But it strikes me as unlikely in happening at all as he is a VERY cautious man and does what he can to remove his identity as König from his residential life. He keeps his gear under lock and key, he doesn't tell personal details of his work, he doesn't want to track ANY of that back. His field life isn't his personal life and he's intent on keeping that separated. Anything that could be used to identify him, he doesn't keep around or its hidden so NO ONE would suspect it.

It would take some absolute major intel and someone working within KorTac itself to follow him like that - even then, dude is a bit paranoid. He's got a security system for a reason, he doesn't wear his mask in public, his body is covered up usually by the long clothes he wears, he's not out socializing - he's just blending in. He's watching cars that pass, he usually keeps curtains drawn or has privacy film, he knows who drives what car and their schedules - so if it's off, he's picking it up.

The way he's protective is in his actions - that's WHY he won't tell details of his work, that's WHY he works hard to ensure personal life doesn't meddle with what his job is, that's WHY he has backup plans. That's WHY he makes sure they get a security system too, if they haven't had one already. That's why he makes sure they're trained in self defense and have at least some form of weapon at the ready, even though they ARE in a safe area. He's protective in the sense of "I'm doing what I can to prevent that aspect of my life from coming into yours" , he's protective in the sense of "I've seen what people are capable of, I've protected myself so I'm protecting you too as much as I can because you matter to me". He's protective in the sense he's caring, he's going out of his way to make sure you're safe.

But he's not going to be protective in the sense of "let me be with you constantly" or "who were you talking to???" or "Why didn't you invite me". Reader is a grown, independent adult and he's aware of that. He's respectful of that and knows they're capable of caring for themselves too. Being IN their life doesn't mean he IS their life. They both operate in their own lives and have their own interests and both, as such, need alone time and time to spend with others too. That's just how to have healthy relationships.

He's very independent himself and having another person around as his friend has taken a significant adjustment period. Honestly, it takes a long time for him to even register that he can go do things with them. He's so used to being on his own that it has to catch up.

And I'm going to say that my König is NEVER possessive towards people. Never. Possessive implies treating them like an object or piece of property, like they're something that's his alone. Possessive means great insecurity in his sense of relationships to the extent where he's manipulating them and monopolizing their lives for his gain.

He's not, because he's a well adjusted adult who has been to therapy throughout his life to manage his own insecurities, especially involving interpersonal relationships. Hell, when he STARTED to even get feelings for neighbor, he brought it up to said therapist just to be sure he's going down the right path. He's built a set of healthy behaviors to cope with unhealthy feelings that may arise.

He gets jealous, especially initially, but once again - he's a grown adult and is capable of handling his own insecurities in a productive way. Everyone is allowed to have more than one person in their lives and a healthy network of relationships matters.

Protective? Yes. Possessive? Absolutely not. He respects independence as he himself is that way. He wants to spend as much time as possible with his neighbor but he realizes that he too needs his own space and time to recharge, and he can't be singularly focused on one person alone. His primary concern is their safety, no matter what they do.

He's lost many comrades and brothers in arms but that's also bound to happen in his line of work. This might sound brutal, but he's desensitized to it to a degree. Losing someone is never easy, but it's expected. The blow will always hurt but when it's always a possibility, it never wanes. He's wary of it and aware of it, and losing any friends he made happened earlier on in the army before his private contracting days. It numbed him too it and set the precedent for his relationships with anyone and is why he's so guarded.

After then, he's not really had many friends. Not that he had many to begin with but he doesn't go out of his way to get close to others. Acquaintances and work buddies? Yes. But friends are a rarity as he's really rather unapproachable. He's there to do his job, he's there to take people down and get paid, he's wary of getting close to ANYONE knowing they can be taken at any moment. He'll work with them, he'll know them, he'll be proud of them - but making friends and forming personal relationships like that in a private military contracting company is a bad idea, when they can easily swap over to the other side if they're offered more pay. He's seen it happen, he knows it's a real possibility.

That's why he picks any personal relationships closely and takes eons to warm up. His social anxiety, as well managed as it is, doesn't make it any easier. He knows what can happen, so he prepares as best as he can. Which INCLUDES being protective and prepared, and planning accordingly. If he's letting anyone into his life, he's already got a game plan for what he'll do.

And no, he DOES visit his mother, as I've stated! As much as his work allows and as much as possible, he does visit. He just doesn't live with or near her. He can easily visit throughout the year when his schedule allows and its sporadic, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn't take repeating cars, he doesn't do anything in a pattern that can be tracked. He's also made sure she's secure in her home too so it's unlikely things will happen, but he won't flat out not communicate with her and not see her at all. He's just smart and careful about it! He can't bare to never see her again.

I'm sorry but my König just doesn't fall under how most people portray him or see him. He's just a guy with his own personal issues. And like the proper guy that he is, he manages them and knows its his responsibility to do such. He's extensively gone to therapy, he's worked on himself, he knows where he stands.

Sure, he's still prone to jealousy and a touch of paranoia, but that doesn't mean he lacks the skills to work through them. He communicates like an adult with whatever he's feeling. Expressing it can be hard but he DOES get it out there and he also heavily respects reader's own autonomy. They're an adult, so is he. He'll protect them and do what he can, he'll care about them, but he will never seek to control them or treat them like something for only HIM to have. He's not and will never be a "they're MINE and NO ONE touches what's mine" - that's just not him to me. I don't write him as a big, broody dommy guy who is growling every sentence or can't handle others talking to someone he likes.

To me, he's just a dude. An introverted guy who likes to sew ridiculous pillows and tend to his garden who is happy in the home he made for himself. He's comfortable with who he is and where he stands. He can communicate properly, knows how to respect boundaries, and likes seeing others who matter to him happy in their lives as they establish a supportive network. Just because he isn't always with them or going with them doesn't mean they can't take care of themselves or he HAS to be there. He's not some ultra possessive dude because he has healthy understandings of boundaries and knows the world doesn't revolve around him and his wants (also he wouldn't WANT them to depend on him and him alone when its very possible he too will die on the field one day). He's not always going to look over your shoulder or instantly treat any other person as a threat.

He's seasoned with the things he's seen and is wary enough to be protective and to do what he knows to prevent what he's seen happen. He's cautious, he's considerate, he's caring - and he's not a cunt about it. Really, he's just perceptive and accepts what can happen so he tries to set up anyone in his life for success to avoid what he's seen and to keep them from harm. He can't always be there, he knows he can't, so ensuring that those around him who he DOES care about have a proper, healthy network of friends around for support and have a game plan for if shit hits the fan (as well as a system to enact it) is his way of showing he cares and can always be with them and help, even if he's long gone or buried six feet under.

[mdanon027]

Back in his arms | Spencer Reid x FemaleReader

Back in his arms | Spencer Reid x FemaleReader

Masterlist

Summary | Three times Spencer Spencer Reid seeks for physical affection (Inspired by some of the Prompts from the list seeking out physical affection by @creativepromptsforwriting )

Word Count | 3095.

Warnings | I don’t think there’s any warning, if you found something triggering, please let me know.

Side Note: I don’t own any of Criminal Minds characters, words, or narrative. This is only a reinterpretation and fiction based on the Criminal Minds Universe they continue to develop. Also no repost is allowed. If you ever see this on another website, please let me know.

1. acting like they're cold to have an excuse to cuddle or share clothes or blankets

After a long case, the team was exhausted. The flight back to Quantico will take at least 8 hours, so they decided to travel back immediately after they ended the work. 

The flight was at night time. Close to the winter season, the weather is changing. So what better opportunity to get close to the person he was enchanted with, than get warm while getting close on the big couch of the plane? 

“Why are you so cold?” JJ asked Y/N.

“I really don't know, probably the warm weather before getting to the plane and the air conditioner here it's giving me chills.” She said while warming her arms.

“Did you know the average temperature in planes is about 22 to 24 degrees? That's because while we are flying the temperature outside is about -60 degrees…” He started to talk, until she interrupted him.

“So… I should be grateful?” She asked him while getting on the seats.

“They leave the temperature that way to have the average one on land, it is supposed to make you comfortable.” He said while passing her his own sweater.

“I was planning on saying no to your sweater, but I'm going to say yes because I'm really cold.” She told him while putting the sweater on.

They took their seats, and the flight began.

“Go Pretty Boy, it's the perfect time for a snuggle.” Said Derek passing by with a coffee, giving him a smirk.

“I don't know what you mean.” He decided to play it cool. 

“Don't play dumb.” Rossi told him from his seat.

“What are you talking about?” He knew perfectly what they were talking about, but he knew that if he admitted it, the teasing would have no end. 

“Leave him alone, if Reid doesnt what to make another move, then he won't.” Hotch said.

“Another move?” He asks now, curious.

“I mean, giving up your sweater even when you never ever take it off on a daily basis? For me it was a move.” Now Hotch was profiling him. 

“You are joining them?” He couldn't believe that the man was joining the fun.

“It's not that I'm joining, but if you want to make a move, you should start doing something.” Ended Hotch getting back to his report while smiling. 

After two hours of flight, everyone already had a quick dinner and some of them were almost ready to fall asleep. But Y/N was still cold, so he finally decided to use his knowledge to his advantage. 

“You may not say anything, but I can see you are getting colder, we can share the blanket.” He said while looking at her while she trembled.

“I think it’s a great idea.” She stood up from her seat and got close to him on the couch.

Spencer makes a space for her, and covers her up with the blanket.

“High stress levels can cause flu-like symptoms, such as fever, cold, nausea, and body aches. There's a high possibility you are about to get sick.” He said while looking down at her.

“Probably. This case was a mess, thankfully we resolved it.” She said while shivering.

“Layering clothes to get warm could prevent the colds. But right now, the clothes are limited, I can give you a hug, if you want to.” He said while feeling his face getting warm. He took the chance to have her in his arms. At that moment he could hear some laughs from the seats, apparently the interaction wasn’t as private as he thought.  He looked around to see his teammates giving him thumps ups while Emily said “Nice one!”.

He wasn’t sure on how to act properly on how to start a romantic “relationship ”. The few times he had experienced, were either brief and the closest he had, ended up in a tragedy. 

Thankfully he was learning to live with it, with a new hope of finding someone to spend his life with. But he was wheeling to take a try.

2. fixing the other's hairstyle to let their hands run through their partner's hair

He was an expert talking for audiences. He usually did not get nervous about it, after conferences, seminars or even giving classes at college, it was easy peasy. 

But it was the first time Y/N was going to talk to an audience giving a class of her expertise. 

She was good at talking to the press when needed, or even to groups to calm the masses in times of fear. But it was different to try to explain situations to people in dangerous situations than teaching young people how to act as a mediator in dangerous situations. 

She knew how to react, but one thing was doing it and another different to explain it.

Rossi invited Hotch and Y/N to give a lecture on how to act on situations that involve firearms and detonation objects. The team knew she was one of the best ones in that field, with no mistake shots, amazing disarmament skills and extraordinary knowledge on bombs (just like Derek teached  her on her Academy days).

They spend several late nights together (sometimes with the other members joining) practicing her lecture. It had anything and everything that could possibly happen, and she was ready for any possible question. 

All the team was there to support her. 

“I’m nervous.” Y/N said while fixing her hair looking through the window reflection.

“Garcia is inside getting ready with your slides. Take a deep breath, you're going to do great.” Hotch told her.

“Yeah, you practiced a lot and if anything happens, you just need to talk about the heroic job you do every day.” Said Rossi, while getting close to the door of the exhibition room. “Hotch and I are going to start, and then you will proceed.”

“A brief introduction and you will continue.” Said Hotch, entering the room.

“You will be doing fine! If anything happens, we are going to be inside, just look for us if you get really nervous.” Said Emily, while Derek and JJ get inside the room.

“You are going to do just fine, just like we practice, remember it's more a talk than a class. They want to know how it's going to be in their future work field.” Spencer told her while opening the door for her.

“You are right, in that room we are the only ones that know how things actually work.” She took a deep breath.

“Let me fix the final details from your hair.” Spencer told her before Rossi and Hotch started to talk. “All done. You can do it. If you get nervous, just look for me and start talking to me.” He winked, while getting to his seat.

Rossi and Hotch started the talk with certain facts and background about de BAU, and proceeded to let Y/N start explaining.

At one point of the lecture she got so passionate about it, that she started to pass her fingers through her hair thanks to the constant hair interrupting her view. While brushing it, she didn’t notice it was beginning to get disheveled. For sure her attendants didn’t care about it, they were deep into the information the expert was giving them for their future work field.

By the end of the lecture, the students were ecstatic with the knowledge they received, even asking for her contact info for future references related to their courses, some of them asking their professor if they could invite Y/N again in the future. 

Rossi was right to invite her.

The first one to arrive was Spencer.

“Let me fix your hair.” He said while brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Again?” She said surprised.

“It's kind of untidy over here.” He continued,

“Was like this all the time?” She said with little worry in her voice.

“For about more than half of your presentation.” He answered.

“Really? Why didn't you tell me something?” She asked him.

“That could be distracting for you.”He finished fixing her hair. “All done!”

“You could make me a sign.” Y/N told him.

“You didn't even look at us, and your hair gets that way when you start to talk really excited about the things that fascinates you, it always blocks your vision and you start to adjust your hair.” Spencer commented on that fact.

“Why haven't you ever told me that?” Now she was curious.

“Because you look cute that way.” He answered her. “Now come here, let me congratulate you.” He proceeds to give her a hugh, she is back into his arms. “You did marvelous over there! A natural instructor.”

“Thanks for helping me rehearse over 20 times.” She couldn't express how grateful she was with him.

“Actually, it was 34 times.” All he could hear was her laugh. “Not that I was counting.” He was in fact counting. She just smiled looking up at him.

The next one to approach was the team.

“Come here.” Penelope said while hugging her really tight. “You did amazing, my friend!.”

“You think so?”

“Yes! The presentation was amazing, really to the point and with the details that needed to be exposed.” Said Emily while joining the hug.

“Of course Y/LN.” Said Hotch while giving her a smile. 

“You were outstanding, I made a good decision to bring you with me today.” Said Rossi. “Whenever you want to come back and give another class, we can arrange you a spot.”

“And not forgetting that I teached you the basics back in your days.” Said Derek giving her a big hug. 

“You should give a class together.” Said JJ, getting close to congratulate her dear friend.

“Thank you, every single one of you for helping me get prepared for this.” Y/N with a big smile on her face. “Especially Spencer, thanks for listening to my lecture 34 times.” She said while giving him a hug.

“This deserves a celebration! Dinner at my house tonight!” Said Rossi from behind.

Everyone started to walk away, to finally celebrate another accomplishment that one of their teammates got.

3. reaching out with their hand without saying anything, wanting the other one to grab it

Spencer knew the basics of dancing. Really the basics, it took him time, but Derek and Penelope helped him during their free times. 

You may ask, why?

Rossi was doing his annual Christmas Celebration, only with the BAU team. It wasn’t a big deal of a party, but for sure a ball in small proportions. An attempt of dancing was another opportunity to be close (at least even more close than what they already are) to Y/N, and he was taking a chance. The team kept teasing him, but later he realized they were just trying to help him to get with her, and he was willing to take their support.

“Pretty Boy, it’s time.” Said Derek.

“I don’t know, we only took a few lessons.” Said Spencer unsure.

“Believe me, you will want to hold her close for a while.” Said Penelope.

“What do you mean?”

“You will know soon.” Ended Derek.

From afar, he could see Y/N and Emily talking, they were really into the conversation while JJ and Will made comments, they were really into it.

The music started to sound in the background and Rossi, as the extra person he was, made an invitation so they could start to dance while the turntable was in the works of preparation. 

Derek and Penelope were the ones who opened the dance floor, following behind Hotch and Beth, and JJ with Will.

Hotch gave him a look and a nod pointing to Y/N’s table. It was time.

He built up courage, got closer to the table and reached his hand so she could take it. Without hesitation, she took it. He started to walk to the dance floor.

He held her close. Was like a dream. And they started to dance.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” She said to him, in a low voice.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me.” Spencer told her.

“Well, I know a lot about you, but this one specifically wasn’t in my radar.” She ended.

They kept slow dancing for several songs, making small conversations between some comfortable silence moments. It wasn’t weird, they could almost talk through their eyes.

Until she decided to talk again.

“I’m probably leaving.” She said really low and slow.

“What do you mean? You can’t leave.” He wasn't expecting this type of news.

“It’s only for a time.” She wasn't looking at him.

“Why?” He was confused, wasn’t she happy with the team?

“Emily recommended me to the Interpol for a special training. Apparently one of the asistans from the lecture I gave, it’s interested in me teaching their team on explosive objects. Derek also sent a letter, endorsing my knowledge in the topic.” She finished.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” He really wanted to know, they were supposed to be close.

“I didn’t knew. They just told me this morning. I’m still thinking about it. Hotch and Rossi already knew, and are encouraging me to take it. But first I wanted to ask you, what did you think about ir.” Oh, that was it.

“Is my opinion that important?” Maybe they were more than close friends. 

“You are the closest friend I have, in my personal and professional life. Most of the time, you are my teammate.” She spoke. 

The next few songs were danced in silence, she kept her head close to his body listening to his heartbeat. What could he tell her? It was a great chance for her. He wasn't going to stop her professional growth.

“You should take it.” He finally spoke his mind.

“Really?” She finally looked at him.

“You are amazing at doing your work. It would be a waste of your talent not taking this opportunity.” It was the truth. 

“But it's a long time, and I'm going to be away from home and alone, and without you.” It sounded like she wouldn't take the chance of being far away trying new things.

“It's only two months, even though I’m not a big fan of technology, we can video call each other whenever you want. You already know I have a non average sleep schedule or even we can message all day.” 

He promised, now they were close, he took one more chance to hold her back in his arms as close as possible for the time they had before her departure.

+1 turning their cheek to get the other one to give them a peck

After being gone for more than two months, thanks to the fact that she was required for a special task outside the country (by Emily's and Derek's recommendation), she was finally back with the team.

He was waiting, with her favorite coffee, pastry and a flower plushie (he knew she was allergic to them, or at least the ones of this season). 

They talked every single day since she was gone. He knew all the things she did overseas. But he wanted to know about them again, even if he repeated them in his thoughts every time after they ended talking, he needed  to see her face in real life while talking and to get lost in her eyes. 

He couldn’t explain how he felt about her. She was more than a colleague, more than a teammate, more than a friend and he believed more than her soulmate. 

During this time afar, he realized what truly was to care for a person, even when they were not physically together. It was the same feeling he had for his mother, there was no day he didn’t speak to her, and the same thing happened with Y/N. 

While growing up, he was used to either getting ignored or being made fun of.

But she always listened to every single fact he had to say, when he talked fast about something he is passionate about, or only listened and talked to him about his thoughts.

For sure he was in love with her.

She arrived at the office, while everyone was there to welcome her back. She passed by a line of hugs and warm words. She was missed in the team.

After all the greetings,she started to look for him, she was wearing one of his sweaters he lent her for the trip, and proceeded to give him a hug. He had never received a hug as tight as the one he was experiencing. 

“I missed you so much, Spencer.” She said with an almost inaudible voice while burying her face in his sweater while catching his scent.

“I missed you even more.” He told her, while topping her head.

“Even if we talked every single day I was gone?” She looked directly into his eyes.

“It’s not the same, a screen can’t take a chance than talking to your pretty face.” He was smiling.

“Oh, Spencer.” She whispered close to his cheek ready to give him a peck, she was the only one allowed to do it.

It was now or never.

He turned around.

It was a small peck. And he looked delighted.

“I'm so sorry Spencer.” She said, astonished. While looking at him with those beautiful startled eyes.

“I'm not.” He said back, getting another peck from her. This time she was also smiling, but stayed silent. “If you want me to stop, please tell me something,”

She shut him down with a proper kiss. 

“The kid finally did it.” Rossi muttered to Hotch.

“He took his time.” He said while smiling. Everyone knew they eventually ended up together.

From the other side of the room, their teammates were giggling at the young ones.

“Well, it’s sad I have to break it to you, but we have a case. To the round table.” Said Hotch from his office, getting close to Spencer while giving him a palm to his back.

“Oh, come on Hotch, let the love birds have a little more time.” Said Derek getting close to Spencer and giving a small side hug to the both of them.

“Come on, we have work to do.” Spencer said, giving her a last small kiss, and started to hold her hand while starting walking. “You are never ever leaving my side, ok?”

“Ok.” She couldn't believe it. She was amazed with what just happened. 

There was no better welcome back.

Back in his arms. 

Autor’s Note: Hello Again! As I told you before, I'm in my Criminal Minds Era, so this is the second time Im writting about this!I wanted to post if before my +10 hours flight to my Holiday Vacation! Its probably the last thing I'm writting/posting this year related to an original work. I was feeling inspired this days. I hope you like it!

If any of the authors I read ever read this, to let you know I always go as anon (thanks that this is my side blog) and I always sign as -MD💜 or -MDanon027💜 (@mdanon027). Thanks for the inspiration!

Also, please be honest if you like it or nah. Any comment will help for future personal writing skills. And if you see any misspelling, I’m sorry, I already reread it several times, and English it’s not my first language. Please don’t mind on telling me to correct anything.

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Day 1 | Toys - Alfons

Kinktober masterlist

Gender-neutral reader (genitals not specified)

Word count: 2k

18+, slight modern au (I made it vague for everything except the toy), sex toys, teasing, public stimulation, orgasm denial, semi-public sex, fingering, minimal editing

How did you let him talk you into this? When you’d be on a mission, of all times. It was the worst time possible to let him convince you to stick a vibrator between your legs.

It was covered by your clothes. But your eyes darted around like someone would see. You took a deep breath. Just keep walking. Thankfully, it wasn't on. Yet.

Alfons, on the other hand, seemed downright cheery. At least as much as he could be. You swore he had a bounce in his step. And his hand was perpetually in his pocket. The one that had the remote to the vibrator in your pants.

You gritted your teeth and cursed yourself for ever letting him have that. He certainly wasn't going to give it up now. The fact he hadn’t used it yet only made you more anxious. He could flick it on any second. At any intensity.

“Oh my, what's wrong? You seem very stiff for someone about to go on a date with your beloved.”

You shoot a look at him. You wait, expecting him to flick it on just before you speak, but it never comes.

You simply plaster on a fake smile. “I’m just fine.”

You kept your eyes forward and walking toward the restaurant. You tried to relax. Everyone would have to believe you were actually a couple once you got there.

Crown had learned a drug dealer was going to receive a package at a restaurant. Intel said it was new from another country and it was in Crown's best interest to prevent its distribution. The only way to get a reservation close enough to his table, was to get a table in the section reserved for couples.

You took deep breaths as each step brought you closer. 

Eventually you came to the door. He opened it for you.

“Allow me.”

You paused, eyeing him with suspicion as you slowly stepped in. Nothing happened. Relief swept through you and the tension left your body. Maybe you should keep your guard up, but the sight of the interior snagged your attention.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings. It was a higher end restaurant. If you messed up you would stick out like a sore thumb. You pulled and tried to smooth out your fancy clothes Victor gifted you. But clothes didn't change the person.

Your chest was tight and all of the tightness in your muscles returned. Fit in. You can’t let them know you’re pretending.

Your anxiety only peaked when an employee came your way. You stood to attention. You couldn’t breathe. Get this right.

“Reservation?” he said. Glancing at a list.

You forced a smile on your face. Stand straight. Don’t look nervous. He was going to see through you. He was going-

A sudden vibration cut through your thoughts. You jolted, and clamped your mouth shut. Going through where you were sensitive, making it ache. Keep your legs locked, you just had to focus on keeping your legs locked. Don't keen over and moan.

Alfons stepped in and gave your fake name the reservation was under.

The man skimmed a list. He smiled and nodded.

“Follow me.”

His back turned. You tried to glare at Alfons, but the buzzing was still going through you and you were sure you just looked pathetic instead.

He just smiled.

“Come now, dear,” he smiled and held your arm as he guided you.

You forced your trembling legs forward as each step shifted and changed the angle of the toy. You bit your lip. Thank god you had him to lean on, even if the sadistic bastard was the cause of all of this.

In only two steps, you blinked as the thrumming faded. Not completely it was still there. You nearly breathed a sigh of relief. At least he had the sense to at least turn it down. You held back the thank you on your lips. He was the reason your legs could have given out and caused a scene.

You continued to hold his arm. Walking past the patrons to be eventually led to your seat. Coincidentally you were too busy keeping your reactions to a minimum to even worry about having to fit in with them.

You sat down and breathed in. Scanning the room, your eyes landed on the drug dealer. Your eyes shift to Alfons. He's not looking at him and you remember you can't stare.

You take a drink of the water served to you and mumble out an order.

Even if it wasn't as bad as before, the vibrator was still going at it. Still where it ached. You shuffled in your chair. Breathe.  Bite the inside of your lip. You glanced back up at him. An amused glint in his eyes.

You glared. This was just fucking entertainment to him.

“Oh? What’s that cute look for? Did I do something wrong? You were clinging to me so tightly just a moment ago.” 

“You know.” It was still buzzing against you. Your clothes were starting to feel hot.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest clue. Could you please educate me?”

Your fingers clenched around the table cloth.

“You're supposed to be focusing on the mission. And I have to make sure they don’t realize I’m not-” your whispers grew faster and faster before you were cut off.

“They won’t. Everyone is far too busy with their own matters and worries. The common annoyances of life are enough on their own and yet they keep creating new things to worry about. I would be surprised if they don’t have enough wits about them to be able to worry about anyone else from another table. All you have to do is relax. Short of standing up and declaring our purpose of being here, you have no reason to fret.”

Somehow his words comforted you. You let your back hit the chair. You hadn’t realized you were sitting that straight.

“Smile. Remember, you’re my date.”

Right. You did have to convince them that you actually liked him. You forced a smile onto your face and looked up at him with as much love as you could muster. Your heart squeezed at the thought of even showing even that bit of vulnerability to him. Every other time you did so he made you regret it.

Your eyes searched the rest of the room. Were any of the waiters looking in your direction? You didn’t think they appeared suspicious of you.

You barely caught Alfons sighing. Then a slight click.

Your thighs squeezed together and your eyebrows knitted together. You shot him a look.

He just smiled.

You glanced at the drug dealer. Unfortunately, you had to wait for the right moment, and the package hadn’t even come yet.

Alfons leaned in to you and whispered. “The wait is boring, is it not? Why not have some fun.”

You blushed. Your eyes drifted to the floor. It would make the wait less boring.

You took a deep breath.

It was hard to tell if it was fun or painful. The whole time Alfons kept playing with the intensity, over and over again. Just as you’d think you’re starting to get used to it, he changes it. You dug your nails into your palms and tried to ignore it. Pretend you don’t feel yourself throbbing against the vibrator. Take deep breaths. Your body twitched with anticipation, always getting worked up only to lose it when it dropped back down.

Since then the person with what you assumed to be the package arrived, but you still had to wait.

You just kept gripping the fabric of your clothes under the table. While Alfons kept smiling and enjoying his meal like there was nothing strange at all going on. All the while you were squirming in your seat.

“Are you okay?” a waiter asked.

“My partner appears to have eaten something bad earlier. Made me promise never to take our dates to that establishment again afterwards.” He took a forkful of food and swallowed it down. “The food here seems to be much better anyway. My compliments to the cook.”

You held your stomach to sell it. The way he said it didn’t fail to make you feel embarrassed, but at least you had an excuse now. 

“Thank you,” the waiter said and left.

Your jaw was clenched. Another deep breath filled your lungs. Between the vibrator and embarrassment it felt far too warm. You took another sip on the water only to nearly drop it. But not for the reason you’d been dealing with the whole night. Your eyes widened as you realized it turned off.

Your gaze snapped up to Alfons.

He chuckled softly. “I thought you deserved a little break. Did you not want it?”

You shook your head. “I want the break. Thank you.” You instantly cursed yourself for saying it by habit.

He rested his head in his hand and smiled warmly. “You’re welcome.”

You braced for him to immediately flick it on again. But he didn’t. You braced a little longer, and he still didn’t.

Relief and joy should be flooding through you, but it felt like something was missing. You were still aching. After all of that, it felt like you were painfully understimulated now that it stopped. Your gaze shifted as your finger tapped absentmindedly on the table. You couldn’t believe he stopped it after he just gave you a perfect excuse. You couldn’t believe he made you want it back. You didn’t have to worry about your reactions anymore, but you felt so needy and needed it back. You squeezed your thighs together and looked for a clock.

The food on your plate was nearly gone when the second man left the table you’d been secretly eying. It seemed he conveniently forgot to pick up the briefcase he brought with him. You wouldn’t have even noticed if you weren’t watching.

Then the faint click again. 

You nearly yelped and sharply bit your lip. It was worse than ever before.

“Alfons, what the fu-uck?” you barely managed to hiss.

“Wait here a moment. I’ll be back for you soon, my adorable lover.”

The choice words you would have said were you anywhere else.

The words in your head gradually devolved to be much less coherent. Much more embarrassing ones. Until there were no words left in your head at all. Just a need. Your chest was heaving. You needed- You swallowed hard. You just had to keep breathing. Stop yourself from grinding into it. You just needed to wait it out. It hurt so bad and good. Fuck him. You needed to-

Your jaw clamped down on your lip and you tasted iron. Stifled every moan.

Finally a moment of reprieve came and you let out a long exhale while your parts screamed. You looked up to see he was back.

“Perhaps we should leave before the gentleman realizes his briefcase isn’t there.”

You weakly nodded.

You left as quickly as you could. Casually strolling out. But every inch of you still trembled with need. Until your pride was overruled. The second you had the opportunity you dragged him into an alleyway to make him fix the mess he made.

“What the hell?” You hissed, practically jumping onto his fingers after your clothes were out of the way. “Look what you did to me. You're going to take care of it.”

His surprise had only lasted a second before he indulged you. Letting his finger slip inside. Curling it and pumping it inside of you. Drawing out a moan.

“If you insist,” he smiled.

He took the vibrating toy and pressed it to where needed it most. All the while his other hand continued. Dragging against and stretching out your walls just right. You sucked in a breath. This time you could finally let it go. Finally able to cum.

You thrust yourself into him faster. Move your hips trying to finally get there after what felt like hours. You grit your teeth.

“Fuck! I hate you.”

“Funny to hear you say that when you're the ones bouncing on my fingers. I'm hardly doing a thing.”

“Shut up!”

Just a second later your muscles tensed. Tears pricked in your eyes. You throbbed against the toy and clenched around him. It finally snapped and your orgasm rushed through you. Your knees nearly buckled and you slumped against the wall. The exhaustion hitting you all at once. His hand held you up.

You rested there for a bit before heading back.