#and I needed to get it out before a new week starts

[cherrygirlfriend]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ morning wood

pairing: rafe x bsf!reader synopsis: rafe wakes up with morning wood next to his best friend . warnings/tags: smut, somnophilia?, piv a/n; i think this was my most popular fic in my old blog and it was also amongst one of the first smut fics i wrote so this brings me back! new fic coming friday btw!! originally posted 08/01/2024

rafe masterlist ♡

wherever rafe went, you followed; and even though it annoyed some of his friends, they didn't dare to say anything about it to rafe, because the one time they did, he got so angry they thought they were getting their asses kicked.

everywhere, also happened to include his bed. it had started after you had accidentally passed out on his bed from how much you drank, and he didn't care if you were there or not, he was sleeping in his own bed. now, it had gotten to the point where you couldn't sleep without him, and vice versa.

but you weren't a couple, of course not. rafe wasn't one for relationships, and you were just his friend since childhood, and even if he fucked you into the mattress a couple of times per week, or the fact that he never allowed any other girl to be in his bed, or that he thought of you whenever he hooked up with someone, it was just friendship.

"come on, wake up pretty girl..." he mumbled into your shoulder as you started stirring awake, rafe holding up one of your thighs up slightly as his hand rubbed his hard cock against your panty-clad pussy.

"come on, rafe..." you mumbled sleepily, and the blonde pressed a small, warm kiss on your shoulder over the fabric of his t-shirt. "why'd you wake me up? can't you see that 'm tired..."

"princess.. i need you..."

"rafe, we already went three rounds yesterday..."

"please, baby..." rafe mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your neck, the action causing shivers to go down your spine, and you could feel your panties starting to get wet, sticking to your puffy folds. "i'll do anything... just need you so much right now..."

you looked at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed lazy kisses on your neck, "anything?"

"anything for you, princess. including murder."

"will you buy me those vivienne westwood earrings i want?"

"hell, i'll get a matching necklace."

and that's how you ended up with your best friend on top of you, pounding into your already sore pussy from the night before, your face pressed against the sheet as you let out moans that got muffled by the pillow, a handful of your hair around his fist as you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fists gripping the sheets to try and anchor yourself as he spoke in a low tone with every thrust "such a good girl for me... you're mine... this pussy's all mine... no one's gonna fuck this pretty girl like i do..."

yeah. just friendship.

[writingforstraykids]

Step by Step

Pairing: Minho x 9th member gn!Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: Minho's whole purpose is based on his dancing ability. When an injury slows him down he draws back from everyone until Chan sends you his way to get him back.

Warnings/Tags: 9th member fic, angst, fluff, self doubt

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho was born to dance.

From the moment he first stepped into a studio, it became his second home, the rhythm of music entwined with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Every movement was precise, every routine a masterpiece, crafted with the kind of dedication that only came from true love for the art. And for as long as you had known him, that fire had burned unshakable.

Until the accident.

It happened in an instant, a moment so brief yet devastatingly permanent. One mistimed landing, one sharp cry of pain, and suddenly, the invincible Lee Minho was reduced to someone broken. The doctors assured him he would recover, but the damage had already been done-not just to his body, but to something far more fragile: his confidence.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and though his body healed, his soul remained fractured. He refused to return to the studio, refused to do so much as talk about dancing, leaving Hyunjin and Felix to figure out your newest moves by themselves. He stayed away from the studio, not really seeing the use in recording new songs when he wouldn't be able to perform them on stage - which drove first Changbin and then Jisung crazy, whilst Chan worried too much for his own good. And what was even worse - he pushed everyone away. Even you. You, his fellow dancer who had always admired him the most.

But you weren’t about to let him go so easily. Not when your maknae had asked you to check on Min, not when Chan had told you, you were their last hope.

-

Knocking on Minho’s door has become part of your routine. Every day you found yourself in front of that wooden door, knocking firmly against it.

It always ended the same way. A muffled "go away," sometimes accompanied by the sound of his cats padding across the room, as if they alone were allowed to witness his pain. But today, you didn’t walk away. You could tell the others were beyond worried and you've had enough.

“I know you’re in there,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the frame. “You can’t ignore me forever, you know.”

Silence.

You exhaled sharply. "Lee Minho, I swear—"

The door finally cracked open. Just a sliver, enough for his sharp brown eyes to glare at you. His hair was a little messy, and there was an exhaustion about him that had nothing to do with sleep.“What do you want?” he muttered.

You ignored the irritation in his voice. “To see you. To talk to you.”

His grip on the door tightened. “There’s nothing to talk about. You've seen me now.”

“Minho, you—”

“I said there’s nothing to talk about.” His voice was hard now, like stone, cold and unyielding. “Just leave me alone.”

He started closing the door, but you pushed against it before he could. “No.”

That made him pause. “No?”

“No,” you repeated stubbornly. “I’m not going to leave you alone just because you decided to shut yourself off from the world.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Your voice softened, the anger ebbing away into something closer to sadness. “Minho, I know you. You’re not okay. And pretending you don’t care doesn’t make it any less true.”

His gaze flickered. For the briefest moment, something in his expression cracked - but just as quickly, he rebuilt his walls. “I don’t need your pity,” he muttered.

“I’m not here because I pity you,” you shot back. “I’m here because I care.” The words hung in the air between you, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Minho looked away first. “I don’t need anyone.”

You sighed. “You can keep saying that, but it won’t make it true.”

Silence stretched again. He was staring at the floor now, his fingers curling into fists. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “I can’t dance anymore.”

Your heart clenched at the defeat in his voice and you shook your head. “Yes, you can.”

“No,” he said, sharper this time. “I can’t. I’ve tried, and it’s not the same. My body - it doesn’t move the way it used to. I’m slower, weaker. I mess up things that were second nature before. It’s gone.”

Your chest tightened. You had seen him try - alone in the practice room when he thought no one was watching. The frustration, the way he’d stumble and curse under his breath, the way he’d leave without looking back. You took a step closer. “Minho-”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He turned away, gripping the door as if he wanted to slam it shut again.

But you weren’t done. “Minho.” Something in your voice must have made him pause. “You don’t have to be perfect right now,” you said softly. “You just have to try.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then, with a sigh, he muttered, “You’re exhausting.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, knowing you won. “I know.” And this time, when he closed the door, it wasn’t all the way.

-

The next day, you found Minho sitting in the practice room. Not dancing. Just sitting - back against the mirrors, legs stretched out, watching his reflection like he didn’t recognize the person staring back.

You sat down next to him without a word. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just heavy. Finally, you broke it.

“You know,” you said, hugging your knees, “when I first joined the group, I thought you hated me.”

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “…What?”

You smiled faintly. “You were so intimidating. Always so serious, so good at everything. I was scared to mess up in front of you.”

Minho scoffed. “You? Scared? Yeah, right.”

“I mean it,” you admitted. “But then I realized something - you weren’t actually scary. You were just focused. Because you cared that much.”

He exhaled, looking away. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does.” You turned to him fully. “Minho, dancing is you. It’s in your blood, in your bones. An injury doesn’t change that.”

His jaw clenched and he shook his head firmly. “You don’t get it.”

“Then make me get it,” you pleaded with him. “Make me understand what's keeping you from your passion.”

His hands curled into fists. “What if I’m never as good as before?” The raw honesty in his voice nearly broke you.

“What if you’re better?” you countered and Minho froze. You reached out, your fingers brushing his lightly. “You’re not starting over, Minho. You’re growing. And yeah, it’s going to be hard, and it’s going to hurt. But you’re still you.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. And then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. It wasn’t a promise but it was a start.

-

The next time you found Minho in the studio, he was standing. Not dancing. Not stretching. Just standing like a soldier preparing for battle, shoulders stiff, fists clenched.

You watched from the doorway, waiting. If you pushed too hard, he’d shut down again.

Slowly, he raised a foot, testing his balance. Then he tried a step - hesitant, uncertain. Another. And another. But the moment he attempted a turn, his body faltered. He caught himself before he could fall, but you saw it. The frustration. The fear.

Before he could storm out, you stepped forward. “It’s okay.”

Minho flinched, shoulders tensing. “Go away.”

“No, Min,” you told him firmly and gently cupped his face.

Minho's eyes grew wide as he swallowed softly, the warmth of your hands oddly calming. He exhaled sharply. “Why do you keep-”

“Because you’re worth it,” you said firmly, thumbs drawing a small pattern against his skin. “Because I know you. And because I refuse to watch you give up on yourself.”

He stared at you, something in his gaze unreadable. Then, finally - finally- he lowered his gaze to the floor and whispered, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Your chest tightened. “You don’t have to do it alone, Min. We can work on this together.”

For a moment, he hesitated. And then, without another word, he let you wrap him into a firm hug, enjoying your soothing presence for a moment.

-

The days passed in a rhythm of their own. Some were good. On those days, Minho moved with a shadow of his old self, the precision of his steps slowly returning. You saw glimpses of the dancer he had once been - the fire, the grace, the intensity.

But some days were bad.

On those days, he couldn’t even make it through a routine without stopping, his frustration boiling over. He lashed out - not at you, but at himself. And then one day, everything snapped.

It was late, the studio dimly lit. You had been practicing together for hours, working through a routine, when Minho’s footwork slipped on a turn. It wasn’t a bad fall, but it was enough. Enough for his patience to shatter.

“Damn it!” The sound of his voice - raw, broken - echoed through the room. Before you could react, he slammed his fist against the mirror. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to send a painful thud through the air. “I can’t do this,” he growled out, voice shaking. “It’s not working. I’m-” His breath hitched. “I’m not me anymore, I'm fucking broken.”

Your heart clenched as you hesitantly took a step forward. “Minho-”

But he wasn’t listening. He pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the weight of something far deeper than just dance. And then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear - “I don’t deserve this.”

Your breath caught. “Deserve what?” you whispered.

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Anything. The group. The stage. You. I was already expendable before,” he said, voice hollow. “Now? I don’t even belong here.”

Something in you snapped, eyes burning fiercely. “Don’t you dare say that.” Minho looked up, startled. “You think you don’t belong?” you demanded. “You think we wouldn’t be less without you? Minho, you’re the main dancer of this team. You always have been. You're our friend..And nothing can change that.” His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak. You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough.”

Minho exhaled, something crumbling in his expression. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted, so quiet it was almost a plea.

You reached for his hand. “Then let me believe for you until you can.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. But then - slowly - his fingers curled around yours. And for the first time, he truly didn’t push you away.

-

Things changed after that night. Minho still struggled, but he let you see it now. He let himself lean on you, even if only a little. And somewhere along the way, between long hours in the studio and late-night conversations, you realized.

The pain he carried wasn’t just from the injury. It was older. Deeper.

One evening, as you sat side by side in the practice room, Minho finally spoke the words you never expected. “I was ten the first time someone told me I wasn’t good enough.” You turned to him, heart pounding. “My teacher,” he continued, voice eerily calm. “She said I had talent but not drive. That I’d never make it unless I proved I deserve it.” He let out a breath. “She wasn’t wrong.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “Minho, you can't be serious.”

“I’ve spent my whole life proving I belong here,” he murmured. “And now? Now, I don’t even know who I am without dance.”

Your chest ached. “You’re our Minnie,” you whispered. “That’s enough.”

He looked at you then - really looked at you. And for the first time, you saw something fragile beneath the confidence he always wore like armor. Something scared. Something hopeful. And that was when you knew he was healing. Maybe not all at once. Maybe not even soon.

But he would.

-

The day of the showcase arrived faster than either of you expected. Minho hadn’t performed in months. This wasn’t an official stage - just a small even for fans. But it was the first step. And he was terrified.

You found him backstage, pacing. “You okay?” you asked gently.

He exhaled sharply, his hands trembling slightly as he looked at you. “No.”

You smiled fondly and nodded gently. “Good. That means it matters.”

He scoffed. “You and your stupid optimism.”

You took his hands, feeling the soft tremor in them and squeezed them. “Minho, you can do this.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to be perfect,” you reminded him. “Just dance. I'll be right there with you.”

Minho swallowed harshly. Then, slowly, he nodded. When you two stepped onto the stage, the music began.

And when he moved - hesitant at first, then stronger - something changed. The fire returned. Not the same as before, but something new.

And as you caught the beaming faces of the others at the side of your stage, you realized that Minho was back on track.

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[babysfirsthaze]

Pent up... (Ekko x reader)

Synopsis: you and Ekko have been caught up with responsibilities, haven't had a whole lot of time together. You get needy. He takes care of you.

Content: the most vanilla sex of your life, soft kissy missionary, fem!reader, p in v, unprotected, very light nipple sucking, established relationship. Not very proofread. Probably extremely out of character.

A/n: first fic ahhh idk..!!🥹 this is lowk so vanilla it's boring idk. Trying 2 ease myself into it. Please lmk if I made any mistakes, I did this instead of homework so I hope it's good smh</3 enjoy

Sex isn't that important to you.

Really, it's not.

Ekko's always had a higher libido than you, not that you don't wanna fuck him, it's just not really on your mind much. You're fine without it, as long as you get to hold him at night. But– fuck.

It's been almost two weeks. You've both been busy with responsibilities, leading the Firelights isn't easy, even with the weight on four shoulders. You find yourself looking at his body a little more than his face, getting distracted, thoughts wondering away to hot, steamy places, when you're supposed to be paying attention. It feels a little dirty, you've never been one to sexualise people. But you can't help it. He's hunched over a desk at the moment, shoulders tense and legs spread absent-mindedly.

Your mouth waters.

"Ekko," you start, the word soft, your fingers fidget with your top as you sit on your shared bed. He looks up, eyes curious and a bit tired. "Hm?" He sits up a bit and you bite your lip, unsure how to go about this, but you've never been a shy person.

"That work important?"

"..Not really," he hums, tilting his head, looking at you curiously. You open your mouth, close it again, trying to get your thoughts to shut up. Dick dick dick dick. Come on now, you're better than this, right? Surely you're better than this.

"I need somethin'," you mumble, thighs squirming together a little. "C'mere."

He does, and you look at the way his arms flex when he pushes himself off the desk, instead of his face. He frowns, bemused. That's new. Then you're tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer to you, and looking up at him with those big, sweet eyes. Shit. He starts to smile, standing over you where you sit on the bed. "Yeah? What's that?"

You tilt your face up at him, raising your eyebrows a bit. "Kiss me?" He grins, first instinct to tease you a bit, but then you tug at his shirt again, thighs pressed together and a sort of need in your eyes neither of you are used to. He doesn't have a lot of resolve, that man.

Your mouths connect, and he's smiling a bit, and he's got his hand rested on the side of your neck, and he smells good, and ohh, god. You sigh into his mouth, hand curling tighter around his shirt. The kiss is slow, filled with an affection and closeness. But the mood changes before long, and you tug him closer, the kisses becoming hungry, heavy and hot.

Ekko leans further over you, scooting you back a bit so you're more on the middle of the bed. He knows what you want. The two of you don't have much free time these days, and yeah, teasing is fun, he'd love to work you up, make you wait, but – it's late. So he's climbing over you, movements slow, the kiss unbroken.

You trail a hand down his waist, tugging at his shirt. "Missed you," you hum into his mouth, and he sighs, enjoying the hands on his skin. He kisses a line down your jaw, mouthing onto your neck. "Yeah?" He sucks and gnaws gently on your pulse point, making you whine. "Been neglectin' you, huh? Sorry, baby."

You forgive him.

You tug at his shirt again, and he gives in, helping you tug it off to reveal his toned, heavy body. He takes yours off in kind, careful hands unclasping and slipping off your bra. Then his mouth is back on your neck, kissing down your chest, before latching around your nipple, brown eyes closed as his mouth works at you, making you sign and moan.

"Pretty girl," he murmurs, and he comes back up to look at you. His hands trail over your body, gentle but hungry. You hook your arms over his shoulders, chewing on your lip, eyes all hazy, full of need. Your mouths connect again and he groans, right hand creeping under your waistband. You whine, bucking your hips up eagerly, needing his touch.

"Please," you sigh, and he doesn't deny you, dipping two fingers down into your panties. You're already wet, and he grins. Running his fingertips gently over your clit, squeezing the small nub gently between them, like he knows you like. "I got you, baby," he mumbles, his voice all breathy, and you can feel him straining against his pants, his hips brushing against your thigh thanks to the position you're in.

You mewl, squirming under him. You really have been needing this, shit, your clit twitches, and you bite your lip.

"Don't tease me," you mumble, your voice a little strained. It feels good. But you want more, you wanna get off, you want him to fuck you. "Please, just fuck me." He chuckles, cooing softly at you, his fingers dipping down, teasing at your hole. You whine, and he swallows it eagerly into his mouth. "Sorry, baby. 'M gonna fuck ya."

You'd both need more foreplay than that, on a different day. But it has been a while, and you look so pretty, and he tugs his hand out of your panties, sitting up a bit. Then he's pulling your pants off, hands gentle, careful, and he groans, eyes trailing over your pussy.

"So pretty," Ekko says again, almost to himself. He runs a soothing hand over your thighs, watching hungrily as your arousal drips down your folds. Shit. He reaches for his belt buckle, pushing his pants down efficiently, he's just as worked up as you are. His boxers are on the floor and by God that dick.

He's hard, pre leaking out of his sensitive slit.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his hand wrapping around his shaft, and he thumbs at his tip. Just looking at you. He thinks you're so pretty, could look at you for hours. But there's more important things to do.

He kneels back down on the mattress, tugging your knees apart and settling between them. He spits lightly on his hand, spreading it down his length, using it like a lube as he pumps himself slowly, other hand pressing against your clit. This draws a soft whine out of you and he smiles, chewing on his lip.

He shifts, leaning forward to stroke his tip over your clit, teasing it. "Shit," he grunts, and he grabs your hand, holding it against the mattress as he enjoys the feeling, brow furrowing slightly. "Fuck, Ekko," you whine, squeezing his hand.

"Shhh, baby, I got you," he mumbles, pushing his tip inside you, before pulling it out again with a soft pop. Then he starts to fuck you. Slow, gentle strokes, filling you up all nice, shifting and hoisting your knees till he hits that good angle, the one that makes your mouth fall open and your eyes go fuzzy. "Yeah, baby? That feel good?" He cooes, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He nudges against that spot inside you, groaning softly and pressing a thumb to apply gentle pressure to your clit. It's been too long, both your heads are going hazy, and he just wants to make you feel good, to feel good in turn. "Shit, I missed this fuckin' pussy."

You moan, and he shushes you with a kiss, squeezing your hand. "People are trying to sleep." You can't find it in you to care, not when you're finally getting the dick you've been craving for days, but you feel compelled to listen to Ekko, so you keep quiet. Just sigh into his mouth, whining softly and allowing your hands to trail up and down his back.

The pace is slow, gentle and full of affection. Just rocking into that warm, gooey spot inside you, he's only a couple inches deep, but he doesn't mind. Ekko kisses you, sighing sweet nothings into your mouth and right down to your tummy. His thumb still working at your clit, just rocking back and forth on top of it, in time with his hips, sandwiching your most sensitive parts between your favourite boy and turning your brain into mush.

It doesn't take much, to push you over the edge. God knows you've waited long enough. A few careful, practiced touches, whispered praise and reassurances, and sure enough that feeling is bubbling into your tummy, spilling over when he starts to rub little circles on your clit. You cum holding your breath to keep quiet, face twisted up in pleasure as Ekko fucks you through it. So pretty.

"Good girl, good girl...bet that feels good, huh? This what you wanted? Sweet girl just needed a fuck, yeah, I know, I know..."

Then he's pulling out, still touching you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuts with a groan, pumping himself to the same pace, warm cum shooting out of him, onto your tummy. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, placing small kisses to the skin there.

You just lay there for a moment, both needing a second to recover, get your bearings again. Not the most intense orgasms of your lives but exactly what you needed. He nuzzles into you, nudging his nose against your jaw.

"Round two?"

Published on 12/2/15 by babysfirsthaze on tumblr

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 4)

The final two weeks before Agatha moves to Albany

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of sex, fluff

The following Sunday, Agatha drives you to Albany so you can look at apartments with her. She found three online that she really likes and is hoping that she can sign a lease today. 

Since her new job starts next week. 

You’ve never exactly known what she does for a living — you never really cared to ask when she was married to your dad and once you got together, she just kind of assumed that you already knew — so you have to ask about three times for what this new position entails so you can try to work it out. 

So far you’ve gotten that she advises the company on how to raise capital, financial modeling, legal and compliance issues, and general advice. She did try to explain what she does when you found her looking over a contract one night, but it went so far over your head you didn’t realize she had stopped talking until she kissed you to bring you back to earth. Agatha did say investment banker once, but even with all the job descriptions, you’re still not sure you actually understand. 

“All right, here’s the first one,” she says, squeezing your hand that’s interlocked with hers over the center console, and parallel parking on the street in front of a high-rise building with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. You peer into the lobby to take in the crystal chandelier, dark floors, and mahogany wood panels on the wall by the elevator. “See, it’s not that bad of a drive. As long as you leave pretty early Saturday morning, you should be able to get here in under two hours.” 

You look at her and shoot her a smile. Agatha’s been overly nice to you the past week, telling you how pretty you are and how lucky she is and buying you flowers and cooking you all your favorite foods, so you’re trying to just sit back and appreciate it. 

She took the job. You told her it was okay. All that’s left to do is accept it. 

“It’s really nice,” you tell her, turning back to the building. “It’s in a good area, too.”

Agatha turns the car off and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Only about ten minutes from the office, so even better. And it’s not too far from the interstate for traveling to and from here.”

Another thing she’s been doing is talking about how much you’ll be able to come visit and vice versa. It should be reassuring, but it just feels like she’s overcompensating slightly to make the move sound better than it is. 

It’s not fair to still be upset because Agatha is trying. And you are feeling good about this, you feel secure that what you two have is real and strong, and you’re going to start working on your application to the University at Albany this week. If you get in, you’ll start in January, which really only means four months of long distance, and you know you’ll both make an effort to see each other on the weekends and during breaks. 

When you put it like that, the pit in your stomach lessens. Your tendency to overthink and blow up problems in your head is definitely something you need to work on. 

The moment you step out of the car, the first thing you notice is the smell, almost like rotting plants and sewage. You wrinkle your nose and Agatha walks around to you, the same expression on her face. 

“Think you’ll ever get used to that?” you joke and she solemnly shakes her head. 

“Guess I’ll just need to bury my nose into something else until I forget it,” she says with a wink and you laugh before following her up to the glass door of the apartment complex. 

There’s a man sitting at a desk, maybe about ten years older than you and wearing a flannel shirt, typing something at his computer, and he doesn’t look up at you until Agatha clears her throat and taps her fingers on the counter. 

He raises a bushy eyebrow, unimpressed and annoyed that someone dared interrupt him. “Can I help you?” 

Agatha tosses her hair back over her shoulder and straightens up. “My name is Agatha Harkness and I made an appointment to see a two-bedroom.” 

The man sighs and taps his mouse. “Yo, Dottie,” he calls, swiveling in his chair to face an open door to the right of him, “I’ve got a ‘Harkness’ here to see the two.” Whoever Dottie is, you hope she’s friendlier than this man. Even his mustache seems to be frowning at you. 

A tall, blonde woman steps out of the room, beaming brightly at you two, wearing a brightly colored floral dress. She walks around the desk, shakes both your hands, and introduces herself. 

“Wonderful, wonderful,” she claps her hands together and you wince at the loud sound in the otherwise-silent lobby, “let me get the keys and then I’ll show you and your daughter the model apartment on the seventh floor and then the one that’s open, which could be yours! We also have some specials on leases if you sign one within twenty-four hours of your tour, which I’ll go over after this.” 

Dottie waves you along and you catch Agatha’s eye behind her back, mouthing your daughter? at her with an amused smirk. Agatha playfully rolls her eyes and swats your arm. 

You still remember the first time she took you out in the spring, when the waitress had assumed you were a couple. You had choked and almost died from coughing so hard, flabbergasted at the thought that anyone would look at you two and see anything other than a mother and her daughter, even if she was your step-mom. 

But now, it kind of bugs you that someone does see you that way. You’re almost tempted to see what Dottie would say if you kissed Agatha or if Agatha squeezed your ass. 

Dottie’s rambling about the safety features of the elevator as she presses the button and you stare at the reflection of yourselves in the bronze doors, blurring the sound of her voice out. You watch Agatha nodding attentively and you probably should be paying attention, but you just can’t. 

Something about looking for apartments with Agatha seems so surreal. You had helped her pick out the one in Westview and it felt like you were picking out a place for the two of you, even knowing you were going to live at the dorms. 

But now, you’re picking it out for her and she’s breaking her lease on the apartment you shared. 

It’ll be back to being both of yours in January, you remind yourself. 

The elevator doors slide open and the three of you step into it, the tile a fancy black marble with gold cracks and the walls a dark wood with the top half covered in mirrors. Dottie touches the fob to a pad and then presses the button for seven. 

“It only lets you get to the floor that you live on, and the roof for the pool and the game room. We take our security very seriously,” she explains and Agatha hums before looking at you for your approval and you nod like you’ve been paying attention this whole time. 

She takes you down the hall and pauses in front of a door, fumbling with the key ring and then finally inserting one into the lock. She pushes it open and lets you and Agatha step in first. 

The floor is a cool gray color, all white walls except for the blue accent in the living room, and it’s pretty spacious. The kitchen has an island with quartz countertops that match the other counters against the wall, all stainless steel appliances, a double oven, and a hood over the stove. The backsplash is green and blue and gray tiles. There’s a deep sink and three pendant lights over the island.  You have to admit it looks really good.

“Wow,” Agatha says, tracing her fingers over the countertop and crossing the threshold into the living room, where the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city of Albany. It’s the model, so there’s comfortable-looking couches around a coffee table and a rug, facing a television on an entertainment center. Even with all the furniture, it’s easy to imagine exactly where Agatha’s stuff would go. 

You follow her into the first bedroom, the bigger one. It has the same windows as the living room and your only thought is that Agatha will certainly need to invest in some curtains if she picks this place. It’s a huge room; Dottie tells you that the bed in there is king-sized and there is still plenty of space for the nightstands and lamps and dressers. The walk-in closet is probably half the size of your dorm room right now, and there’s a standalone shower next to a tub across from the double vanity in the bathroom. 

“This is nice,” Agatha whistles and you nod your head in agreement. 

“Let me show you the other bedroom,” Dottie says and leads you to the other half of the apartment. “This door closes off the hallway to the second bed and bath, so plenty of privacy. Will your daughter be living with you?” 

It’s hard not to laugh when you and Agatha glance at each other out of the corner of your eyes. “Um, no, I go to college in New Jersey. But I’ll be visiting a lot,” you answer, and then, just for the fun of it, add: “How thick are the walls, though? Like, apartment to apartment.” 

Agatha stifles a laugh that turns into a cough and Dottie looks back over her shoulder. “We don’t get a lot of noise complaints. If you’re worried about the TV being too loud, it shouldn’t be a problem because the living room is in the middle of the two bedrooms. But if you’re watching something in either bedroom, there’s a chance a neighbor might be able to hear a bit of it.” 

“That’s exactly what I was worried about,” you mumble and Agatha nudges you, even though she’s smirking too. 

The second bedroom is a bit smaller than the other, but still a good size. This one has a window-sill and only one long window and the closet is only about half as big. The bathroom has an alcove tub and matching countertops to the other bathroom and a lot of cabinet space. 

Dottie also shows you the three extra closets for extra storage and then takes you to the empty apartment on the ninth floor. 

Agatha walks around, gesturing wildly with her hands and pointing out where things could go, while you trail after her like a lost puppy, occasionally adding a yeah and I like that and I think that’ll look really good. 

Seeing her plan the space feels like a hammer in your gut going it’s happening it’s happening it’s happening over and over again until it almost overwhelms you, but Agatha is so engaged in it that she doesn’t even notice. You’re being completely irrational. Everything is fine.

“So, what do you guys think?” Dottie asks when Agatha finally stops and comes to stand next to you as you’re leaning on the island and picking at your fingernails. She puts a hand on your lower back and you stiffen, eyes darting up to look at Agatha, who’s looking back at you inquisitively. 

“Could you give us a second, Dottie?” It’s clear from Agatha’s tone that it’s not a question and Dottie gives you both a tight smile before leaving the apartment. 

You rub your forehead, trying to stave off a headache you can feel slowly budding, and walk over to the windows. Her footsteps are soft and then she’s wrapping an arm around you to pull you into her and kiss your head. 

“You know what I’m thinking about?” she asks and you hum inquisitively. “Fucking you against these windows so anyone down below could look up and see how well you take me. See how good of a girl you are for me.” 

A burst of heat flashes through you but you smirk, not being able to pass up the opportunity to make a joke. “That’s quite an inappropriate thing to say to your daughter.” 

Agatha snorts. “Good thing Dottie isn’t here.” And then she softens against you. “Do you like this place?” 

You shrug. “It’s pretty nice. Aren’t we going to go look at the other places though?” It’s a stupid thing, but you feel like it’s not real until she signs a lease. And maybe you just want to keep it not real for a little bit longer. 

She makes an equivocal sound. “This one did look the nicest online. And honestly, I really like it. I can definitely see myself living here. I can see us living here.” 

“Okay,” you say softly, melting on the inside. As long as she’s picturing you here with her, you’d be good with anywhere. “I think this is the place, then. Let’s go tell Dottie, mommy.” You go to move but instead, she turns you by the shoulders and grabs your cheeks, pulling you in for a long kiss and then gives you another one for good measure. 

“You are so perfect,” she says against your lips. “I l—” 

The door opens and you jump back from Agatha and whirl to find Dottie standing there. Your cheeks heat up, but she doesn't look scandalized so you’re guessing she didn’t see anything. “How’s it going in here, ladies?” 

Agatha gives you one last look-over, giving you all the time in the world to object, but you just swallow hard and nod. “Dottie, we’ll take it,” she says and you plaster a smile onto your face when Dottie gasps and exclaims excitedly. 

She ushers you back to the lobby and leaves you sitting at a desk while she runs off to go print out papers. You’re tapping your foot impatiently when your phone buzzes. 

Thinking it’s just one of your parents — you didn’t actually tell either of them that you were going to New York — you pull it out of your pocket. 

Hey, it’s Carol. Want to get dinner tonight? You vaguely remember giving her your number the night of the party last week. You’ve only seen her once or twice since then and the first time, she asked how you were feeling, and the second time, she shot a finger gun at you. 

“Who’s Carol?” Agatha murmurs, having leaned over your shoulder. You fight the instinct to turn your screen and type back, Sorry, out of town tonight. Rain check? before slipping it back into your pocket. 

“Just this girl that lives in the dorms. She was the one who drove me to your place when I was hammered last Sunday.” 

“Ah.” She’s opening her mouth to say something else when Dottie comes back over and plops down a thick packet and starts rattling off the rules of the complex, the extra fees, and where to sign. Dottie says because you’re not living here full-time, you don’t have to fill anything out and you inwardly sigh in relief. 

Agatha barely looks at the papers before signing her name in big cursive letters and you can’t help but long for that kind of financial security and stability, where you don’t even have to worry about the cost of rent. When you do transfer and if you do end up living with her at any point, you know she won’t let you pay for anything, but you make a mental note to start looking at jobs, maybe even just part-time, so you can buy her things with your own money. 

“Perfect, let me just run a quick background check on you, make sure your credit is good, and then I’ll get back with you. And you want to move in…?” 

“Next Saturday would be great,” Agatha says and your foot starts bouncing even more erratically. Dottie leaves to go back into the office and Agatha’s head drops back to look up at the ceiling. “That means I need to set up electricity, water, internet, I need to schedule movers, I need to talk to my complex.” She groans and sits back normally, rubbing her face with her hands. 

You’ve done the whole moving thing a few times and it absolutely sucks so you reach over to pat her leg. It’s the first time you’ve seen her even the slightest bit overwhelmed with all this and it’s honestly refreshing. “I’m here. Anything you need, I want to help.” 

She gratefully smiles and leans across her chair to give you a kiss on the head. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Um, you married my dad.” Agatha wrinkles her nose but laughs anyway, resting a hand on top of yours that’s still on her thigh. It’s an anchor for both of you and neither of you move until Dottie comes back about five minutes later. 

“All right, you guys are all good! We will see you next week. Any more questions?” 

Agatha stands up and shakes Dottie’s hand. “I think we’re okay. Thank you so much for all your help.” 

The drive back to Westview is filled with mindless chatter and no mention of the move. You make plans for the week — you’ll stay with Agatha every night, she’ll cook dinner, movie night on Tuesday, picnic in the park on Thursday. She knows that school is starting to pick up for you, so it goes unspoken that you’ll be doing homework with her. 

“And of course, plenty of sex,” you add when she asks you if there’s anything else to plan for. 

“Oh, sorry, was that not implied?” Agatha simpers and her hand sneaks its way into your lap, dipping under the seat belt to play with the elastic of your leggings. 

You let her slide inside and let out a small moan when she brushes a finger against your clit through your underwear. “Better keep your eyes on the road, mommy,” you say tightly.

“I can multitask.” 

She rubs your clit and you shift in your seat to give her easier access to you. It’s an odd angle — her wrist is bent in a way that is surely uncomfortable — but Agatha is determined to make it work. She teases you slowly and before long, you can feel how wet you’ve become. Your breathing has deepened, cheeks hot, and you start to roll your hips to get more stimulation. 

“Mommy, please,” you beg, and she looks over at you to say something when the car in front of her stops suddenly. Your stomach lurches. “Watch out!” 

Agatha slams on the brakes, sending you both flying forward, the seat belt putting an immense amount of pressure on you, and she yanks her hand out of your pants to put her arm in front of you. 

The car screeches to a halt about two feet from the one in front of you. You’re both panting and Agatha tosses her hair back before assessing you. 

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. You nod, still gripped by a cold sweat. She takes a deep breath and puts both hands on the steering wheel when the cars begin to move again. “I think we’ll save car sex for another time.”

You huff out a laugh in agreement. “It went pretty well that one time. But we were in a parking lot on the way to get pizza in rural New Jersey, not on an interstate in New York.” 

“Who would’ve thought there’s a big difference,” Agatha quips and the tension from almost getting into a wreck lifts the more she drives. You’re back to giggling and talking in no time, although you both keep your hands to yourself. 

The rest of the day passes quickly, with Agatha busy setting up everything she needs for her new apartment while you finish up some homework for the upcoming week. 

On Tuesday, you’re leaving your dorm after your third class of the day to go to Agatha’s for the night when you run into Carol. She brightens when you see her and you give her a quick smile, determined to keep moving. 

“Hey, where are you off to? You still owe me that dinner,” she says, catching you by the arm. 

“Yeah, sorry, this week is going to be a little tough,” you tell her apologetically. “My…girlfriend is moving on Saturday so I'm just trying to spend as much time with her as I can.” You’ve never really had to define your relationship with Agatha, but it seems natural to call her that. 

A stormy look flits across her face before she’s back to normal. “The same girlfriend who broke up with you?” 

You hadn’t exactly found the time to fill her in on the whole story. “Turns out she wasn’t cheating, it was me jumping to conclusions. She had a job interview in Albany and she got it! So she starts next Monday.” 

“Be careful with long distance,” Carol warns, instead of being happy for you like you thought she would be. You raise an eyebrow. “It always starts out so nice and happy and everything is okay…but then the distance sets in. Texting and calling aren’t the same as just being able to see them and talk to them in person. Traveling becomes exhausting. The traffic makes you mad and then you’re in a bad mood and you can only think about the drive back and—”

“Stop,” you snap, stepping away from her. This is possibly the worst thing you could hear right now and you can’t take it any longer. “That’s not how this is going to go, okay? Agatha and I are different. We’re solid. And besides, it’s probably only going to be like this for a few months. She trusts me and I trust her. We’re going to be fine.” 

Carol scoffs, a cold look in her eyes. “You trust her? Is that why you were so quick to believe she was cheating on you?” 

The blow knocks the wind out of you and you just stare at her blankly. Who the fuck does she think she is? 

She softens, realizing that she cut deeper than she intended to. “Shit, I’m sorry. This is your relationship and I should’ve stayed out of it — I’m sure you’re right, okay? You guys will be fine.” 

But you don’t want to hear anymore from her, so you turn on your heel and walk to your car. The rest of the night, you’re a bit out of it and you can’t stop cursing Carol for putting those thoughts in your head. 

The next few days fly by in a blur with classes and homework and avoiding Carol around campus, but your evenings are absolutely perfect with Agatha.

She keeps the light low in the kitchen while she cooks for you each night while you sit at the table and ramble on about whatever you’re learning. She hums at all the right times, but when you take a break to look up at her, she’s staring at you with a fondness in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

Each time it happens, you think it must be what love looks like. 

Growing up with parents that should’ve been divorced, you never had a good model for what love was. You used to think that everyone’s parents were like yours — cold, didn’t actually like each other, and just stayed together for their children. You thought that love meant complacency, or even that maybe there was no such thing as it. 

You weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to fall in love and be loved back. But with Agatha, there’s an intimacy your parents never had. You didn’t know what that was like until her. 

And you know that you love her more than anything in the entire world, and when she gives you that look, you think she might feel the same. 

The three words are constantly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you just can’t say them again. You don’t even say it when she makes you cum, which is a lot of times over the week. 

She bends you over the countertop and fingers you. She shoves you against the wall after you get back from your picnic on Thursday, gets on her knees, and eats you out. She makes you sit on her strap while you finish your essay and then pushes you onto all-fours and pounds into your pussy until you’re crying. She fucks you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the hallway, in the living room — even in her car and your car. Both while you’re safely parked in an abandoned lot, of course. 

It’s like she’s determined to give you as many orgasms as she can before she moves, and she’s doing an excellent job of it. 

Saturday, after everything gets moved into the new apartment and you’re finally done unpacking most of the stuff, Agatha takes you to a fancy Italian steakhouse in Albany. The atmosphere is romantic, with classical music playing softly and candles lit at every table. Agatha looks absolutely stunning in a tight black dress and curly hair, and you’re wearing your best outfit as well. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” she asks and your cheeks heat up as your head ducks down shyly. 

“Once or twice,” you answer coyly, finally meeting her gaze again. 

She holds out her hand across the table and you take it, feeling the normal electricity that her skin on yours always gives you. “We’re going to be okay, you know that, right? I know you’re more worried than you’re letting on. I know how you’re feeling — I know how easy it is to get swept away with doubts. But I really appreciate you telling me to take this job and I promise we’ll be okay. I care about you far too much to let anything happen to this.” 

You nod and squeeze her hand. “I do know. I feel the same.” 

“Oh — that reminds me. I got you something,” she says and digs around in her purse before pulling out a small black box with a red bow neatly wrapped around it and handing it to you. “You might want to open it beneath the table. Might be embarrassing if someone sees it.” 

Brows furrowing in confusion, you dip the box under the white tablecloth and undo the bow quickly before lifting off the lid. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shoot up to meet hers. 

“Agatha,” you hiss, flushing. 

Resting on stretched out cotton in the box is a small, purple vibrator, curved to be able to rest on your clit while also vibrating against your g-spot, with a gold engraving along the side that goes inside you: Mommy’s cunt. Your clit throbs.

She holds up what looks like a small key fob and presses a button and the toy starts vibrating. You drop the box into your lap while gaping at her and she smirks triumphantly. “Works from anywhere in the world,” she says casually and your stomach sears with heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” you rasp. You’re suddenly feeling very excited about this move. Something about the distance, about the anticipation and the teasing and the pining that it will bring, doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

Suddenly, the food can’t come fast enough and then you’re both in the car, Agatha speeding while you sit on your hands so you don’t distract her, and then she throws the car into park and you both race into her apartment. 

Her mouth finds yours the moment you step through the door, pushing you against the wall as a muffled oomph slips out of you, and she sucks on your tongue and then bites your bottom lip and then kisses her way down your neck. Your brain is going foggy and your underwear is soaked and you quickly tug her into the bedroom. 

Agatha tears off her dress and then pounces on you, knocking you onto your back on the bed, hands coming up to cup your breasts and you keen. 

“God, Agatha,” you groan and she scrapes her teeth against your neck. It’s so good, but it’s also your last night before everything changes. “Wait, fuck, stop.” 

She jumps back like she’s been burned. “What — is everything okay?” 

You nod, panting, and run your hands up and down her hips. “Yeah, everything’s great. I just…can we just cuddle tonight? I just want to be close to you.” 

Agatha runs her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes going glassy for a moment before she blinks, and she chokes out, “Of course, honey. Whatever you want.” 

Smiling gratefully, you take off your clothes and slide under the covers next to her so you can feel all of her warm skin against yours before she tucks an arm around you. You nuzzle into her body and your face twitches with restrained emotion. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you say softly and she presses a kiss to your head. “I know it’ll be okay though. I’m almost done with my application to the University at Albany.” 

She hums and kisses you again before breathing in your scent deeply like she’s making sure she doesn’t forget it. “I have no doubt you’ll get in. And then it’ll be us in our own little world.” 

“That’s right.” 

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, and eventually, Agatha’s breathing starts to even out. A quick glance up at her face confirms that she fell asleep. 

You know you should too, but you’re reluctant to let this moment go. Right now, it feels like you’re frozen in time, just the two of you. 

So you stay up as late as you can, just soaking in the feeling of her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg @m1vfs

[yamumsyadadd]

no goodbye?

you get the shock of your life when you see your fiancée is leaving through instagram.

It had been a week from hell. Working night shifts was something that never got easier, no matter how many times you had to do it. 

You’d barely had time to breathe, the final shift of your rotation had been absolutely insanity. For the entire week, you’d be missing your fiancé. Keira trained during the day, played usually on the weekends and slept at night time like a normal person. 

When you weren’t doing nights, your routine was down pat. Dates nights the day after their game, because that was Keira cheat day and you could enjoy whatever you wanted together. Dinner always followed her nutrition plan, mainly because you could’ve be bothered making separate meals. Everyday and every night would end and start the same way: cuddled up under the blankets together. 

For two and a half years, that’s how it had worked. But recently, it stopped working. During the summer, a trip away to Iceland during the Olympics was booked. It was there that Keira proposed, but also asked if you’d join her in moving back to England when her contract expired in the summer of 2025, right before the euros. 

It wasn’t until you were almost home that you finally went on instagram. The news was heartbreaking: Keira Walsh set to travel to London for a fitness test with Chelsea. 

Your heart sank. Surely it wasn’t the truth, this wasn’t the plan. Keira never said anything. Yes, you’d barely seen each other this week but surely if it was true she would’ve stopped you for a minute to tell you. 

When you finally walked through the door of your apartment, the rumours were true. Keira had her back to you when you entered the bedroom, the room was disheveled. Clothes, books and shoes were thrown everywhere. 

“The rumours are true?” You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. 

“You scared me.” Keira turned around, dropping the clothes she had in her hand. 

“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I was going to tell you but-“

“But what? What about the plan we made?”

“That’s not fair. You know I’m struggling, I told you last year I wanted to leave. This hasn’t been a secret. I need to do this.” 

“And what about me Keira? I already gave in my resignation, we bought an apartment together in London, we had plans!” You felt like she wasn’t listening, that you didn’t matter. 

“I know I moved our timeline up a little. But we can make it work? Do long distance for a few months and then-“

“And then nothing.” 

“Y/n…don’t say that.” 

“Do you not realise that you never said anything to me. I found out you were moving to Chelsea through an instagram post Keira. You are supposed to be my fiancée, you’re supposed to tell me these things not some account on instagram.” 

“I was going to tell you but you have been working so much!” She yelled. 

“So what you were just going to leave and hope I didn’t notice?” 

“No. I was going to tell you, tonight. I love you, so much. But I can’t stay here any longer. We can do the distance, it’s only for a little while. Please.” Keira begged, it was the one thing she rarely did. 

Your heart was broken, your head was confused. On one hand, you loved her. So incredibly much, and if being long distance for sixish months was what was needed, then you would do it. But on the other hand, she was leaving. Moving to a different country, and you had to find out through an instagram post. 

“I need time Kei. You didn’t tell me. I learnt about you leaving online. Not from you.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry.” 

“I don’t know if that’s good enough.” You left the room, unable to deal with your fiancée or the packing. 

As you sat in the lounge room the last two and a half years played on repeat. You met at the club, during the summer you had taken the role that was offered, the club needed a nurse just for a few weeks. At first, she was shy, she’d just moved from England to Spain, didn’t speak the language and only knew her ex. 

Originally you didn’t want a relationship, friendship maybe but certainly not a relationship. But that quickly changed the more time you spent with her. She wasn’t shy, she was funny, loud, mischievous and she loved deeply. 

You wished you could say it was picture perfect, that all your dreams with a partner were coming true but that simply wasn’t the case. Keira was leaving, without you, without telling you. Apart of you knew these things moved quickly but the other part was truly hurt by Keira’s actions. 

“Babe?” Keira’s voice cut through your mind, you looked up at her. Her eyes were red and cheeks were wet, mirroring your own. “I fucked up. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe I was scared or that you would be disappointed but instead I hurt you. I am so so sorry for that. I truly didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.” 

“What do you want to do Kei? Because right now, I just want to cry and yell at you.” 

“You can yell, you can cry. I accept that I fucked up massively and maybe you don’t trust me anymore, but I don’t want us to end up. If thats something you want, I’ll be sad but I’ll respect that.” 

“I don’t think I want us to end. I just-“ you took a deep breath, needing to calm yourself down so you could properly articulate yourself, “I need you to know that this hurt me, so incredibly much Keira. You signed a contract, which means you went to London. You were packing your bags when I got home. You broke apart of my trust.” 

“What does this mean?” Keira asked shyly, hoping you weren’t about to break up with her. 

“We take some time. We have to be apart anyway, if we can manage to trust each other for then next few months, if you promise not to lie to me again or to keep things from me and if I am feeling that you have been putting effort in, then I will come to London.” 

We sat there in silence for a little while. Both fully taking in the events of the night. From when you first started dating Keira, you knew you wanted to marry her. You’d been warned by your friends about how footballers can be but not your Keira. Usually she always asked your opinion first, cared what you had to say about anything and everything. 

The following day was spent close to tears for the both of us. Aitana, Ellie and Kika came to say their goodbyes early in the morning. Keira was leaving just before lunch and then it would be just you. 

You would be left alone, in the home you two created together. It had been a while since you genuinely had to be without each other. International breaks were one thing, but living in separate countries was another. 

“I love you. So much. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll call you tonight okay?” You mumbled your goodbyes and I love yous into her neck, not wanting everyone to see the tears that were pouring out of your eyes. 

True to her word, she did call you that night. The transfer was going ahead officially. The next few months were spent going back and forth to London. You more than her due to having a more flexible schedule. Dates were over FaceTime and more often than not you’d fall asleep with each other on the phone. 

“I officially gave my resignation today.” You told her on one of your FaceTime dates. 

“You what?” 

“My resignation? Remember we agreed I’d come before the euros?” You were slightly confused since this had been the original plan. 

“You’re actually coming? You aren’t joking?” 

“No babe I’m not joking. I’ll be there at the start of June!” 

“Oh my god. I can’t wait. Honestly, it’s so hard being away from you.” 

The logistics of the move were sorted pretty quickly that night. You both agreed that hiring movers and packers was the best idea, meaning the stress would be minimal. Finding a job wouldn’t be hard, but you were happy to spend the summer as a WAG first and then deal with it later. 

Sometimes, when you love someone they can take advantage of that. Keira was often at fault of that, but so were you. In the winter break of 2025, you celebrated your marriage to her. Surrounded by your friends, her teammates, current and past. It reminded you of how loved you were, how much Keira loved you and you loved her. 

It was definitely a hard transition, moving from Spain to England, especially because of the weather. But those raining, wintery days were spent wrapped up in your wife’s arms, your baby bump growing each day. 

[l3irdl3rain]

Has Arthur's behavior changed any since doc removed the infection? What about after amputation?

Yes!! He's like a whole new little guy. I honestly feel bad that I didn't notice something was going on sooner. He's always been kind of crabby but maybe a month before we found the infection I noticed he had been crabbier and more antisocial. He really hates Bug so I figured she was just really annoying him.

After we started the antibiotics he took a huge turn for the better. He's still crabby because that's just who he is, but he became more social again and stopped spending so much time in my room. He still hates Bug but instead of slinking away when she annoys him he stands up for himself.

Tomorrow will be 2 weeks since his amputation and he's doing amazing. He gets sutures out tomorrow. I'm hoping he'll also be able to be done with pain meds because they make him drool and get his chin all gross. But he may need to take them for longer.

[ipushhimback]

the heart eyes?

pairing: oscar piastri x reader words: 1.3 k warnings: none summary: you are in love with your best friend but he doesn’t know it (right?)

When your parents had told you that you would move to another city you had been devastated. You had been only six years old but still, you didn’t want to leave your friends behind.

But then you met Oscar. Your new neighbor. At first you only played with his sisters but then you started hanging out with him and since then you had been best friends. He was there when you didn’t feel well. When you were sad because you weren’t as good as he was in school he would come over to your house and give you a cup of hot chocolate.

When you were 14 you developed feelings for Oscar. No. Not really feelings. Yet. It was a crush. Something you just feel when you become older. But over time, this crush had become more. You really were in love with him now. 

You knew Oscar didn’t feel the same about you. He had a girlfriend. Yes, he did break up with her after only a few months but he wouldn’t have had a girlfriend if he was in love with you, right?

Today you were at the Australian Grand Prix. You haven’t been to one in the last year as you simply didn’t have the time to visit one. And also you didn’t really want to see Oscar. You just wanted to forget him. Move on with your life. Get over those feelings for your best friend. But surprise! It didn’t work.

So now you were here. Sitting in your car in a random parking lot.

“I can do this. I will walk in that damn paddock and be normal. No need to freak out. He is your best friend”, you said to yourself.

Eventually you got out of the car. You wore a pretty orange summer dress and simple white sneakers. At the first Grand Prix you visited you wore high heels and swore you would never wear them again.

You hung the Paddock Pass around your neck and put on sunglasses. Then you grabbed your bag and walked toward the entrance.

While you walked towards it you pulled out your phone to call Oscar so you could ask him where you have to go. But before you could click on his contact you ran into someone. Lando.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry”, you apologized immediately.

“Don’t worry. Wait. Y/N? Long time no see! Oscar couldn’t stop talking about you last week! Come with me I will bring you to him”, Lando offered and you could only nod.

You have met Lando before and always got along well. He was funny and used to always be around when you wanted to hang out with Oscar at a Grand Prix. Not that you cared. He was a nice guy and you really didn’t want to be alone with your best friend when you were scared you might just kiss him at some point.

“Thank you but you really don’t have to bring me to him. I am sure you have more important things to do right now”, you said but Lando just shook his head.

“No no. I will walk you to him. And my room is directly next to his so I can just drop you off, ok?”, Lando asked.

You nodded and smiled at him.

“Thank you, Lando. Really.”

You silently walked to the driver’s rooms just occasionally looking up to check if Lando was still there to lead you to Oscar.

“So, he invited you for this GP?”, Lando eventually asked you to break the silence.

“Kind of. I haven’t been to one for a long time as I simply didn’t have the time for it”, at least that was half the truth, you thought to yourself. “So then I asked him if I could come to one just to have a day to relax, you know? And I didn’t have a long way to get here”, you said laughing.

“I guess. That’s nice that you are here to support him. Then you are officially a WAG now?”

You nearly choked on your own saliva.

“Sorry?” You said looking at Lando as if he had just told her he would quit racing.

“Well, when you are now his girlfriend you are a WAG, right?” Now it was Lando to look confused as you furiously shook your head.

“No! No no no! We are not… a couple or so. Just… friends. Not more”, you defended yourself as Lando looked a little surprised and embarrassed at the same time.

“Sorry. I just assumed since you are here now and Oscar was so happy that you finally talked to each other about your feelings. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“Feelings? There… there aren’t any feelings. We have been friends for so long. We are just… friends. Best friends”, you explained but couldn’t hide the fact that you were as red as a tomato.

“The feelings you obviously have for each other. The heart eyes? You talk about the other the whole time! Are you serious? You aren’t in love with him?” Lando was now looking completely confused.

“No. I am not”, you said, knowing you weren’t just lying to Lando but also yourself.

“Ok ok.” Before you two could say anything else you were standing in front of a wooden door with a piece of paper sticking on it. ‘Oscar Piastri’

“We are here”, Lando said the obvious.

“Yeah. Thanks for leading me. Otherwise I would have been lost.”

Lando nodded and smiled.

“Talk to him. It is not healthy to lie to yourself”, the Brit said before turning around and walking into his own room.

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door before opening it.

Oscar sat on a small couch in the room, scrolling though his phone.

Gosh, how can he look so attractive just sitting there.

“Hey, Osc”, you said as you walked into the room.

Oscar looked up and immediately smiled at you, seemingly happy to see you again after so long.

“Hey! I am so happy you made it! We haven’t seen each other in so long. I missed you”, he said as he walked toward you to give you a hug.

“I am happy to see you as well. Are you ready for the race? I am sure you’ll do great. I read you’ll start in second? That’s good, right?” You stopped yourself from rambling after a little as you realized you were nervous and a little panicking as you haven’t seen Oscar in a long time.

“I am, yes. But it will be hard to get to first. Max is directly in front of me and Charles behind. They are good so I have to stay focused the whole time and just have to drive well.” Oscar was still smiling.

“You will win, I just know it”, you said. “You’ll be first and celebrate and then we will go to that Italian restaurant we always went to with our parents.”

Oscar smiled as he looked at you. Was Lando right and Oscar really liked you? Or is Oscar just a good friend and happy that you believe in his talent?

“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. I have to get ready now for the race. Do you want to stay?”

You smiled and nodded even though you weren’t so sure.

“Yes, of course. I will just sit here and read”, you said pulling out a book from your huge bag.

Oscar laughed that cute laugh that has always been able to make you smile even when you were sad or mad because of whatever was going on in your life.

“You really always have a book with you, don’t you?”, Oscar teased you, something he has always done as you really always carry a book with you.

You just grinned and opened the book do read. It was some silly friends to lovers romance, but you couldn’t help but see the parallels to Oscar and you.

Your best friends went to his warm up exercises and you really tried not to stare but it is hard when you see your best friend’s muscles tense like that. Eventually, some man you have seen around before stepped in the room and did the neck exercises with Oscar and you were really staring now.

Damn. How can he look so good??

a/n: sorry it took me a bit to continue this and it is still not finished but i didn’t have the time for it… there may be some mistakes bc english is not my first language and i didn’t reread it hahah!

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 

[lazysoulwriter]

kindergarten queen - pedro pascal.

It was just another chaotic yet wonderful day at the kindergarten. She had spent the afternoon painting with the kids, which meant her dress was now decorated with tiny, colorful handprints, and there was definitely blue paint in her hair. To top it all off, one of her students had placed a pink princess tiara on her head, insisting that she looked "just like a real queen." Who was she to argue with that kind of logic?

By the time the final bell rang, she was exhausted but happy, making sure all the little ones were safely picked up by their parents. She barely noticed the sleek car pulling up to the curb until she heard a familiar voice call her name.

Pedro.

She turned, her heart immediately doing that ridiculous fluttering thing it always did whenever she saw him. There he was, leaning against his car, wearing that effortlessly cool look he always had—white t-shirt, silver chain, that lazy half-smile that made her knees weak. But as soon as he got a good look at her, his expression changed.

“Oh. My. God.” His mouth fell open, and for a second, she panicked, glancing down at herself. “What? Do I have something on my—oh, right. The paint.”

Pedro let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he walked toward her. “No, it’s not just the paint,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he took her in. “It’s the whole look. The tiara? The little handprints? The sheer dedication? I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were burning. “You say that like you didn’t already love me.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, placing his hands on her waist, completely ignoring the fact that he was now probably getting paint on himself too. “But this? Seeing you like this? Jesus, I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

She laughed, playfully shoving his chest. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s go before you start reciting poetry.”

Pedro dramatically clutched his chest. “You wound me.” Then, as she turned toward his car, he quickly reached up, adjusting the tiny pink tiara on her head. “No, but really. You’re actually the cutest human being on the planet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, but the way her face heated up gave her away.

As they got into the car, Pedro leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. “For the record,” he murmured, “I’m never getting over this. Ever.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “If you mention the tiara even once after today—”

“I’m buying you a whole collection,” he interrupted, grinning as he started the car. “Different colors. Maybe one for every day of the week.”

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands as he laughed, the kind of deep, warm laugh that made her stomach flip.

Before driving off, Pedro pulled out his phone, aiming the camera at her. “Wait, wait—don’t move. I need to capture this masterpiece.”

She gasped. “Pedro, no—”

Click. Too late. He grinned, admiring the photo. “This is going to be my new favorite picture of you.”

And as they drove off, Pedro kept sneaking glances at her, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Because to him, she absolutely was.

[fawnhart]

sugar, the new girl in town ㅤ! ⭑๋ ࣭

The car ride was so long, longer than you thought it would be.

You had no idea where you were going, not a clue. Rafe had just told you to get in, that it was a “better town” than where you were coming from. You weren’t in a position to argue, so you went along with it.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, two-lane highways cutting through thick patches of pine trees, long dry lands and the occasional rundown gas station or roadside diner passing by in a blur.

The first hour, you had your arms crossed, shoulders tense, legs curled up in the passenger seat. You watched him, stealing cautious glances when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.

He was quiet, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the gear shift. The hum of the engine and the soft tune of some old road blues song on the radio were the only sounds in the car.

After the second hour, though, you had to break the silence.

again

“I need to pee.”

Rafe sighed, not taking his eyes off the road. “We just stopped thirty minutes ago.”

“Okay? I have a small bladder.” You argued crossing your legs

He muttered something under his breath but took the next exit anyway, pulling into a sad-looking gas station with flickering fluorescent lights. You hurried inside, ignoring the bored cashier’s judgmental look, and when you came back, Rafe was leaning against the car, arms crossed.

“You do this every hour, and we’re gonna get there by next week,” he grumbled.

“Fine,” you huffed, slipping back into the car. “I’ll hold it next time.”

By the third stop, Rafe was clearly losing patience. “Sugar, I swear to God—”

“ I’m sorry! Im not doing it on purpose. I’ve never gone this long on a road” you shot back, giving him your best glare. You didn’t even question the nickname anymore.

Earlier when you had brought it up he simply said because you looked sweet and nice like sugar

He just exhaled sharply and pulled into yet another rest stop. You were pretty sure he sped up after that, determined to get you both there before nightfall.

At some point, exhaustion caught up to you. The warmth of the car, the rhythm of the road, it lulled you in. Your head rested against the window, and before you knew it, you were out.

⭑.๋ ࣭

When you woke up, everything was still.

For a second, you forgot where you were. The car was gone, replaced by soft sheets, the faint smell of cinnamon drifting through an open window. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim lighting. The room was small but cozy. A bed with a thick baby blue cover, a wooden dresser, and a tiny nightstand with an old lamp.

You pushed yourself up, heart pounding. This wasn’t your room.

no christian music, no yelling, no daily prayer.

Then it hit you.

Running. Rafe. The drive. The new town. Fawnridge.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet it was. Slipping out of bed, you peeked out into the rest of the apartment. It was… bare. The kind of place that looked lived in but not loved. The kitchen was tiny, the fridge humming softly. The living room had a single couch, an old TV, and some random magazines stacked on the coffee table.

And there was Rafe, standing by the window, scrolling through his phone.

He glanced up when he saw you. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” His firefighter uniform making him look so beefy and handsome

Your cheeks burned. “How long was I out?”

“6 hours,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Figured you needed it.”

You did. You felt it in your bones.

But still, nerves crept in. You didn’t know what to do, where to stand, if you were even allowed to touch anything. Years of walking on eggshells made it impossible to relax.

“I’ll start looking for a job” you rushed out “I’ll pitc-“

Rafe must’ve noticed because he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Relax, i can handle all that.”

You hesitated “Are you sure? I can pick up a shif-.”

He frowned feeling as if he’s not being clear enough “Positive. You live here now.”

You weren’t sure why that made your chest tighten.

Then he grabbed something from his pocket and placed it onto the counter, a wad of cash.

“Go do something,” he said.

You blinked “What?”

“Explore. Walk around. Get food. I don’t know” he shrugged “I’ll be at work all day, so you might as well do something instead of sitting here staring at the wall.”

You scoffed “I don’t stare at walls.”

He smirked, like he wasn’t convinced “Just take the money, Sugar.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need a handout,” you snapped, folding your arms.

Rafe’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He just sighed, shaking his head as he turned toward the door. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

And then he was gone.

you muttered a quiet ‘I will’, not loud or fast enough for him to catch

You exhaled, shoulders relaxing slightly. But as you turned toward the counter, your eyes landed on the cash still sitting there.

He left it.

Your fingers hovered over it. You didn’t want to take it, but then again…

You weren’t about to sit around all day.

⭑.๋ ࣭

Fawnridge was exactly what you imagined a small southern town where everyone seemed to know each other was like.

The streets were lined with colorful buildings, thrift store, public laundromats, and mom-and-pop restaurants. People greeted each other like old friends, and there was a warmth in the air that had nothing to do with the sun.

You found the cheapest thrift store on a quiet corner, tucked between a bakery and a bookstore. A bell jingled as you stepped inside, the smell of old books and powdered roses filling the air.

Rows of vintage dresses, wooden furniture, and random knick-knacks filled the space. You wandered through, fingers grazing the fabrics, eyes scanning the shelves.

you weren’t looking for anything in specific, you just wanted something to feel…pretty in

A pale blue dress, simple but cute, the kind that made you feel like you belonged in some old summer movie. You bit your lip, checking the price. Cheap. And for some reason, it felt like a small rebellion, buying something just for you.

You were far from done.

The apartment was bland. Too bland. So, you found little things, a set of seashell shaped dishes for the kitchen, a couple of string lights, a tiny potted plant, and a vanilla-blueberry candle They weren’t much, but they made the space feel less… empty.

By the time you got back, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

You set up the decorations quickly, placing the plant by the window, the dishes near the sink, the string lights draped along the living room walls, and you lit up the candle. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.

you debabted on wearing the little blue dress you had bought, but canned it and decided to save it for something nice.

Whatever that meant

When Rafe came home, he stopped in the doorway, eyes scanning the apartment.

“Smells good, You decorate while I was gone?” He said unlacing his big heavy work boots

You suddenly felt nervous. “yeah” you said the previous sass you had in your voice gone “do ya’ like it?”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked around, taking in the small changes. Then, finally, he smirked.

“‘course I do, Sugar.”

And for some reason, that made your heart flip.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[iluvstarkey]

Tans and Temptations

series masterlist

series playlist

Rafe Cameron x Thorton Reader

Summary: Y/n Thorton has had a very simple and easy life. Her parents are rich, and she has the best friends that she could ever ask for. Until her junior year hits, and she starts feeling some unexpected feelings for her brother's best friend, not only that, but her dreams of getting into an Ivy League school start feeling unreachable when she realizes the classes she picked weren't as easy as she thought and starts to feel that she isn't smart and good enough.

Warnings: Sofia and Rafe, Swearing.

0 / 1. / .2

Now Spinning: Cigarette Daydreams by Cage The Elephant

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The chateau felt more chaotic than usual. You were on the side of a mattress studying for the first exam of the year, Pope was messing around with some type of tool with John B, JJ was being annoying with John B's Guitar, and Cleo and Kie were watching some rom-com that led them to giggle every 30 seconds. Normally you were good at focusing on all the noise around you but it has been 4 weeks into the new school year and you felt like you were drowning in work.

You groaned into your notebook, which caught Cleo's attention. "You good?" You looked up at her, your neck heavy from looking down for so long. "I feel so exhausted, and this stupid math equation isn't helping." "I told you that statistics were stupid, and you didn't listen," JJ chimed in, too focused on strumming the guitar to look at you. You sigh before putting your notebook into your backpack. "I think I'm gonna head home I have tons to do, I have to shower and do some laundry." You get up and sling your backpack over your shoulder.

"Do you need a ride?" Kie speaks up at you making you remember that you left your car at the house and had John B bring you over. "No, it's okay I'll just call Topper." You grab your phone out of your pocket and you dial Topper's number. Topper answers a couple seconds later. "What do you want." Topper groans at you. You hear the yelling in the background and realize you must have interrupted what he was doing. "Do you think you could pick me up from John Bs? Please?" You basically beg him over the phone. "What the hell are you doing over on the cut? Do you know what kind of people live over there?" Topper scolds you over the phone. You roll your eyes before responding "Please Top?" Topper groans again before agreeing and then hanging up.

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A couple minutes pass, and you see a Rafe's black Ram pull up. You roll your eyes. "Of course, Topper is too lazy to come and get me on his own." Rafe rolls down the window then yells at you to get in. "Since when do you slum with the Pogues?" Rafe basically barks at you, seemingly pissed off. "It's not that big of a deal, they are my friends who care where they live." You bite back at him. "Watch your tone princess, I came and picked you up remember now put ur seatbelt on." He turns back to the wheel and shifts into drive.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to get an attitude, I've just had a long day." You slump into the seat. "Did the princess break a nail at school?" Rafe chuckles to himself. You scoff "No, I have a math test tomorrow, and it's the first exam of the year and I don't seem to get it." You grumble into your hands. Rafe was about to answer before he suddenly got a call. "Hey babe what do you need?." A girl replied on the other end of the line. "Will you come over and bring food? I miss you?" Your stomach seemed to drop. Yeah you liked Rafe and he was your brother's best friend which made him off-limits but that doesn't mean you couldn't have a tiny crush on him. You didn't know Rafe had a girlfriend or was even capable of keeping one, he had a reputation for breaking all the girl's hearts on the island.

"Course, just let me drop off toppers little sister, then I'll be right over." Rafe replied, then shut off his phone. The ride was silent up until he pulled into your driveway. "Thanks for the ride." You grabbed your bag from the backseat and then headed inside. You basically ran upstairs, throwing your bag onto your floor before jumping into bed and immediately going onto Rafes Instagram to find the girl. You see that all he posts about is himself and football. you aren't proud of it, but you basically go through his whole following until you find a girl named Sofia. You click on her story and see her and Rafe with food, with the caption "So Lucky." You go through a couple of her posts with Rafe immediately feeling some type of jealousy course through you.

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You basically screamed into your pillow whenever you saw the photos. The worry of your math exam gone. You knew you should be happy for him but you can't help to wish that was you. When you were younger your mother and Rafes always talked about you and Rafe growing up and marrying each other. which is cliche when you think about it. You hear stories about other parents wishing their best friends kids got married together but you can't help but wish it would come true. You felt guilty thinking and wishing that knowing you and Rafe grew up together and that he and topper were best friends.

You put your phone down and finally decided to shower. Hoping the shower will make you forget all about your feelings towards Rafe and the whole situation. Spoiler it didn't it just made you feel worse. It took you forever to fall asleep that night. Rafe just couldn't leave your mind. You finally fell asleep around 3 in the morning.

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The next morning you were exhausted, you totally had forgotten you had a math exam the next morning and as you sat down at the table in front of Topper he reminded you of it when he asked if you stayed up studying because he claimed you looked like shit which you replied by throwing your toast at him. "Jesus i'm just joking." Topper rolled his eyes at you before pushing out his chair and getting up to leave. "Wait Top, can I ask you a question?" You perk up "What?" He sounded a bit irritated by the request. "How long has Rafe and his girlfriend been dating?" He squinted his eyes at you. "Why do you care?" Topper rolled his eyes and then walked out of the room. "Are you gonna answer the question?" Which he replied by slamming the door. "Dick" You mutter to yourself.

As you get to school, you see Pope and JJ arguing over who is going to get a better score on the math test, JJ is betting on you while Pope is betting on himself like always. JJ noticed you coming over and gave you a once-over. "Damn, you look like shit." "Shut up JJ I know I got like no sleep." Which Pope laughed at. "I told you Ill get a better score." You rolled your eyes at him before going to your next class. This was going to be a long day.

The school day finally ended, and you ended up going back home, walking into the living room to Topper, Kelce, Rafe, Ruthie, and Sofia, all laughing at a joke one of the boys said. "Hey, sis, how'd you do on that math test?" Topper teased you. You rolled your eyes at him before going upstairs. You didn't feel like dealing with any of them today, including Rafe. You just wanted the day to be over with. You were going to go straight to bed, but JJ texted you asking about going to the big bonfire kicking off the school year. You went every year, and you couldn't just not go this year. You wondered if Rafe was going to take Sofia and how he would act with her at a big party. You decided it would be best to nap before the party so you laid down and closed your eyes in hopes you could actually fall asleep this time.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part ten

Not to randomly air out my business but getting my heart viciously broken a few days before Valentine's Day was not on my 2025 bingo. Jesus Christ. Lmfao, anyway! Here's a new chapter!

Warnings: Rossi once again knows Hotch too well, Hotch makes A Decision (a choice is certainly made...whether or not we agree with it is tbd), these two bickering their hearts out

That night, Hotch agrees to Rossi’s offer of a drink at the hotel bar, albeit with an ulterior motive.

They’re barely two sips into their whiskey when Rossi reminds Hotch that he’s smarter than him. “So. You heard us talking.”

Hotch almost laughs as he hangs his head. Nothing will ever get past David Rossi, will it? Honestly, Aaron should know better by now.

“Yes,” Aaron replies, thumbing at the condensation forming on his glass from the ice. “And…” He sighs, figuring he might as well admit what he’s done. What Rossi told him not to do. “I had Garcia pull her file.”

Rossi freezes. “Aaron…”

“I know,” he says before Rossi can even start. He raises one hand in surrender. “I know.”

Rossi shakes his head. “I told you to let her come to you.”

“Well she hasn’t,” Hotch argues. “And she won’t, Dave, I know she won’t.”

Rossi hums, like he’s having the strangest sense of deja vu. “You think she needs help?”

“I think keeping this a secret is impacting her ability to do her job.”

Rossi scoffs. “Don’t tell me you’re blaming her because we haven’t found the guy yet.”

“What?” Hotch reels back, clearly offended at even the thought of that. “No. What makes you think that I am?”

“You two get under each other’s skin, Aaron,” Dave laughs. “You’ve said multiple times, to each other, even in front of all of us, that you don’t like one another and would rather work with anyone else.”

Aaron scoffs. “Yeah, but we don’t actually mean it, it’s…” It’s how we’ve always communicated. We don’t know anything else.

“Don’t you?” Dave asks, that damn knowing look on his face. “If you don’t mean those things, you should probably tell her.”

Aaron’s eyes widen slightly. “Did she say something to you?”

“Nothing I’m going to disclose,” Dave shrugs. “And before you ask, no, it's not impacting her ability to do her job.”

Aaron hangs his head for real this time. “Alright, I walked into that one.”

Dave takes a sip of his whiskey, leaning onto the bar. “You’ve got to trust her, Aaron.”

“She doesn’t trust me.”

“She does,” Dave says. “Even if she doesn’t like you.”

Ouch. Walked right into that one, too. 

Hotch straightens up, sipping his whiskey before hitting Rossi with the next thing. “So you met her when her father was caught.”

Rossi smirks. “I was wondering when you’d put the pieces together on that one.”

Hotch shakes his head through a laugh. “You could’ve just told me.”

“With how you’ve been about her? No, no I couldn’t,” Dave says with a incredulous laugh. “I wasn’t positive until yesterday, and I didn’t need you to confront her about it before I even had a chance to ask her. And I wasn’t so sure you wouldn’t turn that same anger on me.”

“Sorry,” Aaron grimaces. “I’ve been trying to…cool it.”

“Hm, good luck with that,” Dave says, tilting his head with a sigh. “If you two are on good terms now, you better cherish it while you have it. The second she finds out you pulled her file behind her back, she’s not going to be happy.” He pauses, fixing Aaron with a look. “And I can’t help you there.”

Aaron knew already that it wasn’t his brightest idea, but surely it’s justified. When the safety of an agent is at risk, that has to be worth something?

After talking with Rossi, he’s not so sure anymore.

+++

The unsub never strikes again. 

The BAU stays in town to further investigate and chase down any leftover leads, but all have dead ends. You wait for an entire week. Nothing.

“It’s…It’s pissing me off!” Garcia’s frustration can be felt through the video screen. She squeezes a stress ball so tightly you’re worried it’s going to pop. “It’s like this guy doesn’t even exist!”

“I know, babygirl, I know,” Morgan sighs.

You lean into frame, almost resting your head on Morgan’s shoulder. It’s been a long week and you’re bone-tired. “At least we’re coming home this afternoon.”

“I know,” Garcia says, dropping the stress ball to prop her chin in her hand. “I just wish it was because you caught the guy.”

“Me too,” you murmur, finally giving in and dropping your head onto Morgan’s shoulder.

Through the blinds of the conference room, you see Hotch and JJ talking with the other detectives, giving them the inevitable news. The BAU will continue to be just a phone call away should they need anything, but there’s nothing else they can do. They can monitor things just as well from headquarters in Quantico, and, unfortunately, there are more pressing issues to return to.

The “pressing issues” are just the usual mountain of paperwork, Morgan says. You hope that’s all it is, but something in your gut is telling you otherwise. Your meeting with Strauss flashes in your mind, namely a certain prisoner who seems set on speaking to you again one day.

You still have no idea what to do about that one.

“Travel safe, my loves,” Garcia blows a kiss with a sad smile. “I’ll be here when you land.”

“See you soon,” you reply, waving as she signs off.

You close your eyes as Derek shuts the laptop, letting out a sigh.

“I know,” he says, leaning his head onto yours. “I know.”

You practically jump when Hotch’s voice sounds out damn near right next to. He somehow walked in here without making a single noise, and of course Derek couldn’t warn you.

“We’re heading out,” Hotch says, eyeing you from your seat next to Morgan. “Got everything?”

You nod silently. You and Derek were already packed, your bags loaded into the trunk of the car that you’ll take to the airstrip in town. Your plan is to curl up on the plane and pass out the entire ride.

You and Hotch have gone back to your speaking-non-speaking terms. When you have spoken, it’s been about the case. When you’ve argued, which hasn’t been as much as you anticipated, it’s about the case— you blame your lack of sleep for your lack of witty comebacks. He doesn’t ask any prying questions like you were certain he was gearing up to do, and he overall doesn’t bother you.

Except when he, you know, breathes too loud in your general area.

Or when he looks at you too much, like he’s doing right now.

“What?” you don’t mean for it to come out as forcefully as it does. “Do I have something on my face, or…?” You touch your cheek, expecting to find pen ink there.

“No,” Hotch says, but he doesn’t look away.

You roll your eyes, standing up from your chair. “Then take a picture or something. And blink like a normal human being— thank you.”

He looks away from you then, after you thank him for blinking, of all things.

Hotch has tried his hardest to “cool it” as he told Rossi he would, and it has seemed to do absolutely nothing to calm your attitude toward him. It’s a losing battle, and he has no idea why he’s even bothering to try.

As Hotch watches you and Morgan finish gathering the last remaining things from the conference room, he spots Rossi taking an evidence bag from a detective.

A moment later, Rossi comes into the room with the bag in hand, giving Hotch a look he doesn’t see often. Alarm.

“This was left in the mailbox outside the door,” Rossi explains. “They’re checking the cameras now.”

“What is it?” you ask, ears perking up when you hear Rossi’s tone. He’s never sounded…startled like that.

You stand a little too close to Hotch on accident, apologizing when your shoulder brushes his arm as you try to get a good look at what was left.

It’s just a simple card in a white envelope, except where the addressee’s name should be, it just says Behavioral Analysis Unit. The note inside only has one word: gambit. Hotch flips the bag over to read the back of the card: Are you ready to play a game? 

In the bottom corner, in tiny script: see you soon.

You take the bag from Hotch, blaming the spark you feel in your hand as your fingers brush on the chills you feel when reading the words before you. 

Morgan reads the words from beside you and scoffs, “Oh, so he’s taunting us now?”

“We don’t know,” Hotch says.

“We can’t just leave,” you argue. “Not after a note like this. Leaving is what he wants us to do.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Hotch replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the universe.

“Are you serious?” The anger is back, always simmering just below the surface when you’re this close to him. “He’s going to strike again the second we’re gone.”

Hotch levels his gaze on you. “You don’t know that.”

“Hotch, I don’t like the sound of this,” Morgan chimes in, holding up the note. “This guy doesn’t do anything for a week, and then just drops this off?”

“We don’t know that the unsub dropped the note—”

“Who the fuck else could it have been?” you nearly yell. Judging by the detectives who turn their heads, you aren’t as quiet as you hoped. You try again, lowering your voice, but keeping your glare focused on Hotch. “Who would do that, if not the unsub?”

“We’re leaving,” he says firmly, looking both at you and Morgan. “My decision is final.”

You look to Rossi for help, but find none. He doesn’t look like he particularly agrees with Hotch, but he doesn’t disagree either, and that’s just as bad.

“You’re making a mistake,” you say.

“I’m sorry you see it that way,” Hotch deadpans. “But I won’t let my team feed into this unsub’s delusions.”

“It’s not—”

“This is not up for debate, Y/N,” Hotch cuts you off. “We’re leaving. End of discussion.”

He turns and holds his hand out in front of Morgan, silently asking for the note. Morgan looks about as delighted as you feel as he hands it over. He shakes his head after letting it go, grabbing his bag and heading out of the room. Rossi follows behind him.

You wonder if either of them realized what they were doing. Leaving you alone with Hotch once again. If either of them realize the inevitable.

“I’m not finished,” you say, catching Hotch’s attention when he tries to leave. You cross your arms over your chest. “Give me one good reason why we can’t stay.”

Hotch shakes his head. “I’m not arguing with you about this.”

“Tough fucking shit, Hotch. All we know how to do is argue, so you know damn well that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Tell me.”

For a second, you think he’s going to turn and walk out of there without answering you. Leave you standing alone in your irritation. He takes so long to answer, so many seconds stretch out of him staring at you, looking down at the note, then back to you.

“If we stay, the safety of this team might be at risk,” he starts.

“What about the women in this town?”

“He hasn’t struck in a week,” Hotch fires back. “Before it was every other day.”

“I know the facts of the case, Hotch.”

“I didn’t say that you don’t,” he replies, unusually calm. “But we can’t stay. We need to return to Quantico. They’ll call if they need us.” He pauses. “And this note? The unsub is trying to taunt us. If we unpack everything now and change our plans, we look scared. We can’t look afraid. We have to leave, like we’ve planned to do, and we’ll continue to monitor the case from Quantico.”

“That’s not good enough,” you murmur, voice unusually quiet. You don’t like this — not the leaving, but the way you’re both talking. It’s not like either of you to not get angry, to not yell, for one of you to not storm off. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, only this time, he sounds genuinely remorseful. “We can’t stay.”

When he walks away, he pauses just outside the door to glance back at you, nodding for you to follow him.

You don’t know why, but you do. You admit defeat, and you follow him out of the precinct.

+++

On the jet, you sit toward the back by yourself, not caring that you must look like a child pouting because they didn’t get their way.

Maybe half of that is true. You didn’t get your way because you wanted to stay. But that’s not what you’re upset about — not really. Sure, it’s a piece of it, but it’s nowhere near the biggest piece. Not even close.

The biggest piece, though, you can’t say. Not out loud. 

You can’t help feeling like it’s somehow your fault, that this unsub wasn’t caught. The same way Lila’s kidnapper got away, too. Even with the sketch artist’s drawing — because Lila’s mom did eventually convince her to speak with one — there haven’t been any new leads. It turned into a dead end, just like this one.

Aside from the cryptic note, there’s nothing to go on. The precinct’s cameras don’t show anyone dropping the note off on its own. The best they can assume is that it was mixed in with the regular mail, but there’s no way to trace that. Another dead end.

You curl up into the seat, looking out the window as the clouds fly by. The first two cases you work on with the BAU, and both end with the unsub getting away. You must be a bad luck charm, or something. There has to be some explanation, but clearly you can’t see it yet.

Distantly, over the whirring of the engines, you can hear Reid rambling about the note and what it might mean. No one seemed nearly as confused and upset as you and Morgan about leaving right after the note appeared. 

Granted, it’s not like Hotch gave them much choice. He didn’t bring out the note until the jet was already in the air.

You aren’t even angry with him. Not really, you guess. You don’t know what’s eating at you exactly. When it’s too many things at once, it’s hard to pinpoint.

Reid goes on and on about the definition of a gambit, specifically in chess. How they’re used, why they’re used. To get multiple steps ahead of your opponent.

You’ve never liked chess when you’ve played it, but you especially don’t like this feeling you have now — because it seems you’re in the middle of a game you’re inevitably going to lose.

[juniperskye]

My Valentines

Based on the following ask: @lucreziaq2001  Thanks🙂. Here's the new request: It is inspired by this video= https://youtube.com/shorts/DveJG0lXFQM?si=HAU2VM0SkjIf8O3H . It would be a One Shot in which Spencer and a female reader have twin daughters aged 5 and on Valentine's Day, Spencer takes the day off work to make sure he is not away on a case and takes the girls out. He brings them flowers and basically shows them how he'd like their future boyfriends to treat them. I think it would be very cute. If you'll write it, thank you💜. You pick the twins' names. – Hi gorgeous, I love this fic idea, also Reid is 10000000000% a girl dad – you won’t convince me otherwise. I hope you love it

Spencer Reid x Wife! Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 1716

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, mom! reader, mentions of pregnant reader and pregnancy, mention of valentine’s day, dates, mentions of food, promoting positive relationships, implications of Spencer having a tough upbringing, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

When you found out you were pregnant, Spencer was over the moon. He couldn’t have been more excited to expand your family and become a dad. Here’s the thing about Spencer though, he liked to do research…too much research. You had to tell him to stop giving you statistics about pregnancies and things that could happen to the baby.

Finding out it was twins, that only made things worse. Spencer didn’t let you do anything, always making sure you didn’t do any lifting and that you weren’t on your feet for too long. He needed to ensure that you were okay at all times, not wanting to risk the health of you or your unborn twins.

Four weeks after the discovery of it being twins, you’d gone in to find out the sex of the babies. You’d been hoping for a boy and a girl…but you knew Spencer only wanted girls. He’d told you time and time again that he wasn’t super masculine, and he was scared of having a son…he felt like he’d fail him. Of course you had reassured him, telling him that he’d give your child, regardless of gender, all the love in the world.

He jumped for joy when the doctor confirmed it was fraternal twin girls.

--

Spencer had gone through hundreds of thousands of potential names for your girls, and after vetoing the majority of them, you’d agreed on two names:

Audrina: An English name that means "noble strength".

Iliana: A Spanish name meaning ray of light.

He’d wanted their names to hold meaning, he wanted them to know that their names, their souls, their existence brought the two of you strength and light. And when Audrina and Iliana were born, the names fit perfectly. You’d been worried that you’d see them and it wouldn’t feel right, but in that moment, nothing had ever felt more right.

--

He’d been the most attentive father, explaining to you that he wasn’t spoiling your girls, he was simply setting the bar as high as they deserved it to be. In the four years of fatherhood, Spencer had made sure to prioritize his girls (including you of course). You’d take the girls on mother-daughter dates, going to the zoo, the children’s museum, the park, lunch, the list goes on. Spencer had also adopted this tradition; he’d wanted to go and spend time with them 1:1 too.

This year, he’d decided to start a new tradition. The day before Valentine’s Day, he was going to take the girls out for a date. You were going to get the girls dressed and done up and he’d pick them up and take them to a “fancy” dinner. February 14th was reserved for you.

--

Spencer let you know that the girls would need to be in semi-formal attire, and he’d be picking them up at 6:00 pm. He had started their day off by giving them a gift certificate to your nail salon, so you could take them to get their nails done.

You’d taken them right after lunch, Audrina went with a glittery pink, while Iliana chose a neon purple, you’d gone a little simpler, a French tip.

Once you got home, you let the girls play for a little bit before curling their hair and styling it. The girls had matching outfits, light pink sweaters covered in lip prints, paired with a light pink tutu-style skirt. Their shoes are where they differed, Audrina wore these red cowgirl boots (she’d been exclusively wearing them lately) and Iliana wore her high-top converse – wanting to match her dad.

By the time the girls were completely ready, Spencer was just arriving home. He’d prompted the girls this morning, informing them that he’d be taking them out on a real father-daughter date. They replied with squeals, thrilled to be going out with daddy…while you were excited for a night off and a date with the bottle of wine you’d been saving and your bathtub.

--

A knock on the door had the girls running, tripping over one another to answer it.

“Girls slow down! The last thing we need is scraped up knees to go with your outfits.” You shook your head.

Opening the door you were met with three bouquets of roses, each a different shade. You couldn’t help the smile that took over your features, even though this night wasn’t about you, he’d gone out of his way to make sure you felt acknowledged as well.

“Hi baby.” You greeted.

“Hello, my gorgeous girls.” He handed each of you your flowers, happily taking in the sight of your adorably matching daughters.

“Daddy! Daddy! Are we going now?” Audrina shouted.

“Well babygirl, are you both ready? I don’t want to rush either of you.”

“We’re ready!” Iliana said grabbing her tiny toy purse.

Spencer leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips as goodbye, before leaning down and placing a big smooch on each of the girls cheeks. You lent down and followed suit.

“I love you guys, have fun!” You called as they made their way to his car.

--

Spencer took the time to open the door for both girls, assisting them into their car seats, letting them choose the music they listened to on the way to the restaurant. He’d chosen a nice steakhouse; one you had frequented on special occasions, he knew the girls liked the food there and would actually eat something.

He helped them out of the car and held each of their hands as they headed up to the entrance, once again holding the door for them.

“Reservation for Reid.” He told the maître d.

Once the three of them were led to their table, already accommodated with booster seats for the girls, he lifted them one by one into their chairs. They were all smiles, enjoying the attention they were getting. Though the girls don’t really notice…it truly kills Spencer that he still has to work so much. He’s done a lot to lessen his workload with the BAU, taking a few months of the year to teach at the university so he doesn’t have to travel with the team. Needless to say, nights like these were his favorite.

--

“Alright girls, what would you guys like to drink?” He asked

“Juice please.” Iliana replied.

“Can I have sprite?” Audrina asked.

“I will tell you what, if you both want a sprite, you can have one…after that, how about we switch to juice or water?” Spencer negotiated.

“Okay!” Audrina replied.

“I want a sprite too!” Iliana changed her mind.

“Sounds good.”

--

The night was continuing on wonderfully, Spencer had ordered the food, steak and French fries for the table, promptly cutting the steak into bite size pieces for the girls. Conversation flowed easily, the girls told Spencer about what they learned in preschool this week, they talked to him about getting their nails done, showing him their now-greasy fingers.

He had been listening intently when Iliana asked him a question.

“Hey daddy, why did you bring us here?”

“Well sweetheart, one day when you are much, much older, you will have a Valentine of your own…” He began.

“Like you and mommy?” Audrina interrupted.

“Yes, just like mommy and me. You’ll each have a special person, and I want to make sure that you understand how important it is to make sure someone is treating you right.” He explained.

“Like you did?” Iliana inquired.

“Yeah baby, like I did today. But I also want you guys to know that not only does someone need to treat you well, but you need to treat them well in return. Like mommy and I are always doing things for one another, trying to meet one another where we’re at.” He finished.

Both girls nodded, clearly not old enough to really understand the weight behind the words Spencer had shared. He just knew that he’d have to continue this tradition of showing the girls what love looked like, not only through these little dates, but also through his interactions with you.

 --

When they arrived home, he had a teddy bear on each of the girls beds waiting for them (you’d been so kind as to place them there after they left). They’d been so excited, giving Spencer no trouble when he put them to bed.

He found you soaking in a bubble bath once he made his way to your shared room. He was so happy to be with you after a long day.

“Hey sweetheart.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Hi baby, did you guys have a good time? I got your picture!” You smiled recalling the adorable photo of Spencer sandwiched between your daughters, each of them pressing a kiss to his cheeks.

“We did. I will say, I am glad to be home though. Can I join you?” He asked

“Of course.”

--

Spencer had gently slid in behind you, holding you close to him. The two of you just relaxing after a long day. You leaned back, nuzzling further into his grasp, releasing a deep breath.

“You alright?” Spencer questioned.

“Yeah, he’s just especially active today.” You said, letting your hands run over your prominent bump.

Spencer reached his hands up and ran them along the expanse of your belly, feeling the kicks of your unborn son. His chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Spencer let out the quietest of sighs, and if you hadn’t been paying close attention, you’re sure you’d have missed it.

“You okay?”

‘“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Spence, you’re going to be a great boy dad. Just like you are with the girls. I know you’re worried, but if anything, your experiences will allow you to teach our son compassion and the ability to express his emotions. He will be capable of making someone incredibly happy, because he has a daddy that makes me so happy.” You gushed.

Spencer sniffled lightly before pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You could feel his lips turn up into a smile, bringing one of your own to your lips. You truly loved him, and you knew from the moment you met him that he’d be an incredible husband and father, and he continues to prove that every passing day.

[heartsforjh]

Six Lines

𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝐻𝓊𝑔𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

main masterlist | six lines masterlist

“Baby? Baby, did you take your vitamins yet?” your husband, Jack, asks for what feels like the hundredth time this morning, stepping into the view of the TV.

You sigh, sitting on the couch, just trying to watch the new season of your show. You haven’t been able to watch it since it came out a month ago, and it’s been driving you crazy trying to avoid spoilers.

Admittedly, you answer him with a bit of venom. “Not yet, honey.”

He’s been like this ever since the two of you found out about the baby at only one week. It was sweet at first—a concerned husband and dad-to-be—but it quickly got old. Now you’re six weeks in, and you’ve started to feel like Jack may very well be practicing his parenting on you.

“Hey, lose the attitude. I’m trying to take care of you here,” he says, his tone soft.

You try to look around him to see the TV, but it’s no use. “J, move. I’m trying to see this.”

“Baby, I get that your hormones are all over the place, but you don’t have to be so mean,” he says sternly, as if he thinks he has the right to lecture you.

You roll your eyes. “Or maybe you’re just majorly pissing me off.”

“Okay… for my sake, I’m gonna say it’s the hormones,” he says with a nod, heading back into the kitchen.

Just when you think you’ve lost him, he comes back in and sits next to you on the couch. “So, vitamins?”

You glance over at him to see he’s holding the bottle of prenatals. You let out a scoff, but decide it couldn’t hurt to take them right now, especially since he brought them to you, saving you a trip to the kitchen.

“J, if I take these… will you please leave me alone?” you ask, fully serious.

He raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether to be offended or amused. “I can’t love on my wife?”

“No,” you shoot back, grabbing the bottle and getting your vitamins out for the morning. “Now, answer.”

“I mean, I guess I will if it’ll get you to take them,” he says with a shrug.

You immediately pop the vitamins into your mouth. “Great! Thank you!”

Jack nods and gives you a kiss on the cheek. He gets up and walks away from the couch. He wants to give you the space you need, but truthfully, he’s a little hurt that you want him away from you.

Later in the day, you need to make a quick run upstairs. As you approach the stairs, you hear a certain someone’s footsteps and they sound like they’re coming toward you. When Jack grabs your hand and puts his other hand on your waist, it only confirms your suspicions.

“Do you need help, baby?” he asks, and you can’t help but think about how ridiculous that is. He’s already trying to help, and then he wants to ask if you need it after the fact.

You sigh, again, trying to keep your composure and not be too mean, knowing he has good intentions. “I’m a big girl. I’ve got it handled.”

“But I don’t want you to fall. It’s easy to do when you’re pregnant,” he insists, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his.

You sigh, for what may actually be the hundredth time, feeling even more guilty at how irritated you are because of him. “And I appreciate that, I really do. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not even showing yet. We’re like a month into this pregnancy, Jacky. I promise you, there is absolutely nothing throwing me off balance.”

“I’ve seen you fall over nothing, baby. I’m not letting my clumsy, pregnant wife walk up the stairs alone,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Now, come on, pretty girl. Let’s go up.”

You exhale, accepting that this is your life now. You thought Jack coddled you before, but this is a whole new level of insane.

“Thank you. It was really good,” You say, finishing up dinner, the one Jack made—of course.

He smiles, pleased with himself. “Thank you. I’m really glad you liked it.”

“Mhm,” you hum with a light nod.

You start to feel a little nauseous, so before doing anything else, you get up from the table, head to the fridge, grab a water, and gulp it down. By the time you feel you’ve had enough, you look over and see that Jack’s now up from his seat, bringing your plate to the sink.

“I was gonna do that. I can do that,” you say, with a tinge of annoyance.

He looks up from what he’s doing. “Yeah… yeah, I know.”

“So… stop, please. I was gonna do that! I just got up for two seconds! Why would you do that?” you say, frustrated. The more you speak, the more you’re working yourself up.

You’ve started to feel horrible when he does things like this. You’re going to be a mom soon. You’re definitely not a helpless baby, so why is he treating you like one?

Jack frowns, confused at why you’re freaking out at him over some plates. “I—I just wanted to help.”

“You’re not helping! I can clean up after myself! So, how is that helpful? You’re not doing anything special cause it was gonna get done either way!” you press, growing increasingly upset.

Jack winces at the sight of you being so bothered, but he’s still confused as to what he’s doing wrong. “Hey, hey, hey. Why are you being like this?”

“You’re just being so annoying! I can’t stand it.” You say, frustration bubbling over.

You storm out of the kitchen, not wanting to be in there any longer. Mostly because you’re upset at Jack, but partly because the sad look on his face is starting to get to you.

Not long after, it’s time for bed. When Jack comes into the room, the tension is thick. You sit on the bed in your nightset, watching as he moves around the room to get ready for sleep. He looks so innocent, simply going about his bedtime routine. You feel an intense feeling of guilt for how you’ve treated him all day. However, you don’t want to bring it up if he’s not already thinking about it.

He gets dressed and lies down in the bed without saying a word, and he seems mad. That is, until he sticks his arms out for you. “Come here, baby.”

You immediately melt, moving right into his arms and cuddling up with him. He kisses the top of your head and starts stroking your hair. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be mean. Well, I kind of was, but… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” you explain as best you can.

Jack nods, giving you another kiss on the head to reassure you that he’s not angry. “Okay, talk to me. What did I do to upset you?”

“I just… you’re not treating me very normal. I don’t like it. I know I’m pregnant now, but I can still do things on my own. It won’t be like that for long. Soon I’ll be forcing you to put my shoes on for me. I just want to enjoy my independence while I still can,” you finally open up, and get your feelings off your chest.

But it doesn’t relieve how you feel. If anything, telling him makes you more anxious. What if you make him feel worse? Him being a little overbearing doesn’t mean he deserves that.

Jack just nods, staying silent for a moment that feels like an eternity to you. “Yeah… I—I get that. You’re right. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. There’s no excuse for suffocating you like that, but I want you to know it wasn’t on purpose. You have to remember, this is my first time doing all of this too. I’m still trying to understand it, and all I know is that my girl is carrying my baby, and there’s so little I can do to stop the things you’ll have to go through. I feel kind of useless, honestly. And I’ve been trying to find ways to fix that. I’m sorry, baby.”

“That makes sense. I should’ve told you I was getting irritated way sooner. I say I want to be treated like an adult, but then I was just plain mean to you. That wasn’t exactly mature of me,” you admit, defeated.

Jack smiles softly, easing the tension in the room. “I forgive you. We’re both just trying to figure this thing out on our own. We should start doing it together, you know? Let’s communicate better. If I’m bothering you, I want you to tell me, okay?”

“Okay. And if you think I’m… I guess being overly mean to you, please tell me. I don’t like knowing I may be hurting your feelings. Oh! And I’ll make sure to ask if I actually need help with something,” you say, glancing up at him.

He smiles down at you and kisses you on the nose. “Deal. You’re lucky you’re cute. I can’t be mad at you.”

“So… can you please rub my back? It hurts,” you ask him, and the room goes silent for a moment.

“All of a sudden you want my help?” he asks, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

hey guys! i’m not sure how good this part is… i wrote it at like 3AM so idk if i trust my own sleep deprived judgement right now. nevertheless, i hope you all enjoyed! <3

tags: @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @rainyvalentines @alwaysclassyeagle

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[theocddiaries]

Shadow: How’s Tails? Any better? Sonic: No. Ever since he had that nightmare about the tooth fairy, he’s been a nervous wreck. I can’t leave his side. Shadow: Hm. Sonic, when was the last time you spent time with your brother? One on one. Sonic: I took him to the dentist on Tuesday. Shadow: I mean doing something fun. Sonic: Hey, he had a blast scolding the dentist for having outdated magazines. …Okay. I don’t know, I saw him doing his own thing, and he’s not a little kid anymore, so I just gave him some space. But you might be right. I’ll talk to him. Tails! Can you come here for a second? [Tails comes out of his room with a broom and a tranquilizer gun, scanning the room before sitting on the couch, still on guard. Shadow and Sonic exchange a worried glance.] Sonic: Okay, buddy… [takes the gun from him]: Give me that. Look, I got the message. Tomorrow we’ll do whatever you want and I’ll make your favorite food, and we’ll have a sleepover. We’ll spend the whole day together. But please, drop the tooth fairy nonsense. Tails: It’s not nonsense, she’s really here! Sonic: Tails, I’m really sorry I made you feel abandoned. [From the hallway, Knuckles appears wearing a grotesque papier-mâché head with crudely drawn facial features, a disheveled wig under a tattered veil. He looks both ways before slipping into the bathroom.] Tails [screaming and pointing]: Aaah! There she is! There she is! [Shadow and Sonic turn, but Knuckles is already gone.] Sonic: Tails, there’s nothing there. Shadow: Okay, how about this? I’ll go spend a week with Rouge so you two can spend time together like old times. Tails: I don’t give a damn about your life, you egomaniac! There’s a lunatic in the house who wants to rip my teeth out! Aaaaaaaaah! There she is again! [Knuckles comes out of the bathroom, scratching his head in confusion. He heads toward the kitchen.] Sonic: Tails-- Tails: Look, look that way, please! [Sonic rolls his eyes and turns around.] Sonic: Tails, pal, there’s nothing. Tails: Yes, there is! She hides right when you look! She’s evil! Shadow: Kid, enough, okay? Your brother and I aren’t playing along anymore-- [Knuckles walks into the living room and taps Sonic on the shoulder while Shadow talks. Sonic turns around, sees him, and starts screaming along with Tails.] Sonic: Aaaaah! She’s real! Shadow: You aren't help-- Damn it! Tails: I told you! [shoves Shadow before running out]: Take him instead! [runs out of the house screaming] Knuckles: Hey, calm down, it’s me!!! Sonic: Knuckles? Knuckles: Help me get the head off, it’s stuck. Shadow [removes it after a few tries]: What the hell do you think you're doing?? Knuckles: Me? Bringing back the magic for Tails. Shadow: How? By haunting him dressed like La Llorona? Knuckles: No, I’m the tooth fairy. Sonic: That's great, because you’re gonna need new teeth when I knock yours out, you idiot! The kid’s terrified! He hasn’t slept in three days, he’s more owl than fox at this point because of you! Shadow: Look, you’re going to tell Tails it was you pulling one of your dumb stunts. Knuckles: I can't tell him. That’s like Superman admitting he’s Spider-Man. It ruins the magic. Shadow: What magic? You’ve got a serious problem with language. That costume causes a lot of things: disgust, unease, terror, but magic ain’t one of them! Sonic: I spent countless hours editing VHS tapes and DVDs so the kid could watch Bambi without the mother’s death scene, and you traumatized him in one night. First and last time you scare him like this! And especially the last time you mention the stupid tooth fairy! Knuckles: Stupid tooth fairy? Well, then, let’s call Santa Claus ‘fat bastard’ and Kermit the Frog ‘amphibian jerk’ while we’re at it! There's no values anymore! Bitter losers! [storms off] Sonic: Unbelievable… Knuckles [comes back]: Sorry, guys, I lost my head. Sonic: Thank you. Knuckles: Hm? No, I mean literally, I lost the head for my costume… Oh wait, here it is. [picks it up]: So, screw you both, Grumpy and Grumpier.

[haihoneys]

Pool Party Fun Times

Summary: San is getting really tired of this cat-and-mouse game he’s been playing with Y/N. Little does he know, she’s fed up too. What’s going to happen when they each decide they’re going to make a move at their mutual friend’s pool party?

Word Count: 3,763

Pairing: Choi San x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut - reader is a ✨screamer✨, mention of blood (bitten lip), barely proofread (im defs high editing this oops), unprotected sex (pls be smart)

A/N: this is set in the same universe as If The Heavens Ever Did Speak and Afternoon Delight. you don’t have to read those to read this, though!! just thought i would mention it hehe. if you wanna get really specific… it actually happens the same day as Afternoon Delight… its the same party 👀

——

The first time they met, San found himself drawn to her. She just had this magnetism about her that seemed to always keep him in her orbit. From the second Yeosang, a long-time friend of her’s apparently, introduced them to one another at a listening party San was just…enamored. She was all twinkling eyes and bright smiles, fluttering lashes and breathy laughs. 

Since then, she’d been popping up randomly in his world.

Two days after the listening party, they ran into each other at a cafe. A week after that, he was picking up some takeout from his favorite chicken place and all but ran into her as she was leaving the same restaurant. The very next day, as he was leaving the dance practice, he saw her from across the street as she was exiting a cab. 

San smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed and called her name. Y/N whipped around, shock coloring her features as she searched for the stranger calling for her. He jogged across the street, huffing another chuckle as he stopped before her. 

“We really need to stop running into each other like this.”

She laughed and nodded her agreement, reaching out a hand to rest on his bicep.  

The gentle touch had him biting down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from sighing and leaning closer to her.

“Yeah, we definitely do,” she smiled up at him, and to his horror, she pulled her hand away to hoist her bag up higher on her shoulder. “I actually have a meeting I need to get to. But, here, let me see your phone?”

San immediately started fumbling for his phone, patting at his pockets until he found the device. He unlocked it before placing it in her waiting palm. Y/n pulled out her own phone, swiping until she open… Snapchat… of all things and opened up her profile to show the qr code. She found the same app on his phone and opened it up, scanning the code to add her as a ‘friend.’ 

She made a satisfied little hmph sound as she locked his phone and handed it back to him. “Ooh, the request came through! Let me accept it before I head to my meeting.”

And they had been dancing around each other ever since, skirting just on the edge of flirting.

A shirtless, post-workout gym selfie from San. A shot of her legs in a bubble bath in response. 

A reply to his story complimenting his new haircut. A little video showing off said haircut as he thanked her.

Nothing too overt, but at the same time… it wasn’t just nothing.

They were both aware of the mutual attraction, of the suggestiveness of some of their photos and messages. But neither of them were making any real moves towards the other.

That is, until they were thrown into a group chat together with all their friends and invited to a pool party to celebrate the start of the summer.

Their phones pinged at the same time from opposite sides of the city: Y/N tucked into her cozy apartment and San in the back of an SUV on his way back to the dorms from the studio.

That was it. That was the opportunity they needed. This party would be the perfect time to make a move.

Of course, both of them choked when the day came. Offering up only shy hellos and timid waves when they saw each other.

In San’s defense though, she just looked too fucking good. When he saw her in the low-cut summer dress, nipples poking through the thin fabric, he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to adjust his semi-hard cock in his jeans.

He spent the rest of the afternoon making eyes at her from across the pool deck, not bothering to hide the fact or even deny it when Wooyoung giggled about it.

And she was sending those looks right back to him! He swore she was fluttering her long eyelashes at him, too. And maybe he started to think about how she would look up at him when she was on her knees for him… about how she’d take him down her throat and - 

A beach ball came soaring across the deck and smacked him on the forehead. He stood there, a bit dazed, as he snapped out of his thoughts.

Wooyoung was doubled over, laughing so hard he was near tears, trying to choke out an apology. San huffed and rolled his eyes, picking the pool toy up and hurling it back at Wooyoung.

San smiled at the dull thwack! as it made contact with the side of his head.

“Ow!” Wooyoung gasped, hand flying to rub at his head. “No way it hit you that hard!” 

“Serves you right, brat,” San shrugged. Honestly, it was probably for the best with the way his thoughts were spiraling just seconds ago. 

San eventually found himself behind the outdoor bar, playing bartender much to the delight of his friends. Yunho and Mingi’s cheering for him caught Y/N’s attention from across the deck, her focus pulling away from the boys’ makeup artist to land on the rowdy trio. 

She excused herself at the first lull in the conversation, claiming she needed another drink despite the nearly full seltzer she was nursing, and seated herself at the far end of the bar. 

San turned toward her, leaning back against the counter behind him as he tossed the towel he was using to dry his hands over his shoulder. He crosses his thick arms and Y/N’s eyes locked in on the corded muscles and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about him pinning her down and - 

“What can I getcha miss?”

His question brought her back to reality, her cheeks and ears heating as he stared her down.

‘He knows’ she thought ‘he absolutely, 100% knows that I was just thinking about him pinning me to the bed upstairs.’ 

“Um,” she stuttered, suddenly nervous under the weight of his intense gaze. “Surprise me.” 

The left corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk as he uncrossed his arms and turned away from her. He began pouring various mixers and liquors into a shaker before slapping the top on and shaking the concoction. Y/N watched him and nearly moaned at the way the toned muscles in his shoulders and back flexed and moved under his white t-shirt as he went about the task. 

Yeosang just so happened to pass behind her and reached up to tug on a lock of her hair to get her attention. Y/N hummed, barely acknowledging her friend, and Yeosang chuckled under his breath.

“Close your mouth. You’re starting to drool,” he teased before walking off again. 

Y/N swatted at him as he went, mumbling for him to hush because she was busy watching a ‘show.’ 

San scooped some ice into a glass and poured the mixture over it, making a show of licking the fingers of his right hand as he slid her the drink with his left. He leaned forward onto the bar, and the muscles of his arms shifted again. He noted Y/N’s eyes following his movements, and he smirked.

“Let me know what you think.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” She reached for the glass, making sure to just barely brush the tips of her fingers against his forearm as she did. She kept her eyes locked on his as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.

“I bet it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.” 

Y/N choked and spluttered on her drink, the heat returning to her cheeks. She looked up at him when she finally caught her breath, ready to spew something about how the drink had just gone down the wrong way. But when her eyes locked on his face again he was giving her the biggest shit eating grin and something clicked into place.

She realized he had been torturing her on purpose. Well, two could play at that game, she supposed. 

She leaned forward onto the bar, purposefully crossing her arms under her tits so they were pushed up practically in his face. She gave herself an extra point in their little game when she noticed his eyes dip down to her cleavage. He flicked his eyes back up to meet hers, his mouth opening to say something clever, to try to fluster her again. So she beat him to the punch.

“Hmm.. I bet I could top it.”

San cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her. “Is that so?” 

Y/N hummed in affirmation and took another sip of her drink. This time, she had to bite back her cringe as the alcohol actually made contact with her taste buds. It was atrocious; nail polish remover probably would have gone down smoother than the literal poison he had given her.

But she smiled, her best attempt at coy, and slid off the bar stool without another word, making sure to put a little emphasis in the sway of her hips as she made her way to the sliding door that led directly into the sunroom of the house. 

It was one of those cliche-as-fuck moments where San thought “damn I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave”. 

He was still leaned over the bar, trying to give her at least a few minutes of a head start so everyone still gathered around the pool and bar wouldn't immediately know what they were about to get up to.

The last shred of his willpower flew out the window, though, when she made it to the door and looked over her shoulder at him. She grinned like she knew she had him in the palm of her hand.

And to be fair, she did. 

San pushed off the bar and, as casually as he could, walked towards the door she’d just disappeared through. He found her in the sunroom leaning against the sideboard that was pressed directly under the window, back to the door as she played on her phone.

He stepped behind her and wrapped an arm around her from behind, one hand splaying across her lower tummy as she discarded her phone. San leaned in and moved the hair from her neck and shoulder before leaning in and pressing a kiss just beneath her ear. 

“You thought you were cute out there, huh?”

She could feel the smirk he pressed into the skin of her neck, and then all of the bravado she had worked up was suddenly gone as she practically melted into his touch.

“Bet you thought you had the upper hand all day…Just flouncing around in this flimsy little dress.”

His hands started to wander, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they slid from her hips, up her abdomen to cup and squeeze at her tits. “Not wearing a fucking bra… bet you aren’t wearing panties either, are you?” San laughs, and it’s a sardonic, almost cruel sound.

He pinched at one of her nipples and involuntarily bucked into her when she whimpered and arched into his touch. He slid a hand up further so he could grasp her neck, turning her head towards him just a bit so he could see her pretty face. 

“What if I’m not?” She was breathless as she said it, the anticipation, the want, evident in her tone.

She was clenching her thighs together, trying for any sort of friction, for any sort of relief. San laughed again and dropped the hand that was still on her chest back to her hip. He started to grab and bunch the fabric there, hiking her dress up just enough to slip his hand under the hem.

Y/N whimpered as his fingers brushed over her thighs, tracing shapes and patterns so close yet so far from where she truly wanted him. She was ready to beg for it, the plea on the tip of her tongue when he finally, blessedly moved his hand between her thighs and slid his fingers through her folds. 

He pulled his hand away and held it up in front of their faces, the setting sun shining through the window and reflecting off the sticky wetness on his fingers. 

“You’re being a tease,” she breathed out, chest heaving. 

San laughed and Y/N was beginning to hate the sound and how it made her pussy clench and ache for him. She turned in his grip and watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

He groaned at the taste of her. He was going to spend a long, long time between her thighs. He wanted to fucking drink her and all she had to give him. 

Then he was kissing her, hands in the hair at the base of her skull and pulling just hard enough to guide her where he wanted her. She could still taste herself on his tongue and it was driving her fucking insane, her head swimming.

The primal urge to tear into each other was palpable. The kiss was all clashing teeth and bitten lips, wet and sticky with spit and a bit of blood from a bite that was just a bit too hard. San pulled away a fraction, his pupils blown wide as he stared her down. 

Y/N zoned in on the drop of blood on his lip and gasped. “Fuck! I’m so sorry…oh my god… I didn’t realize I was going that crazy.”

She was speaking a mile a minute, rambling and apologizing profusely, and San cut her off with another searing kiss. 

“What’s pleasure without a bit of pain?” He walked them backwards as he said it, his hands still tangled in her hair.

He eased them down onto the daybed at the back of the room, pulling her into his lap and rucking her dress back up around her hips so she could straddle him.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to keep her comfort at the top of his priorities. 

“God, yes,” she breathed out and went back in for another kiss, licking into his mouth like she wanted to imprint the taste of him in her own mouth. Y/N started grinding down onto him, the fly of his jeans and the hardness of his cock providing the most delicious friction against her clit.

He moaned into her mouth, strong hands on her hips, dragging her back and forth over his lap until she was whimpering and whining for him. San kissed at the corner of her mouth and murmured to her, “You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum just from humping me like this, baby?” 

She whined and nodded her head frantically, her voice fully gone, the pressure building and building in her lower belly until her toes were curling and stars were bursting behind her eyelids. San hummed below her, hands still pushing and pulling at her as she started to writhe above him, riding out her high.

San watched her, in rapture, as she lost herself to the pleasure. He wanted to burn the sight into the backs of his eyelids so he could conjure it up the next time he found himself alone and wanting.

“I need you inside me right now or I might fucking die.”

That might be the hottest thing he’d ever heard. 

She lifted herself onto her knees - there was just enough space between them to allow her to fumble with his pants and help him shimmy them down his thick thighs. She almost started salivating at the sight of his cock slapping up against his abdomen, heavy and swollen and already leaking precum. 

“Can’t have that now, can we?” He tried to joke, but his laugh was cut off by a guttural groan as she sank down onto him. The wet, molten heat of her might just be heaven, his own personal nirvana. He honestly thought he could live there, buried to the hilt in her pretty little cunt.

Then she started rocking against him and moaning his name, and San nearly came undone at the sound. He gripped at her hips, fingers pressing marks that would surely turn to bruises, and picked her up just enough to give him room to fuck up into her.

The angle was damn near perfect, she could feel every ridge and vein of him, could feel the tip of his cock kissing against her cervix. Her head fell back as she moaned at a particularly well-placed thrust, leaving her throat exposed to him. And San took full advantage of it.

He leaned forward and attached his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Biting down until she whined - he was starting to think that high-pitched, needy little noise was going to become one of his favorite sounds - before he laved over the quickly reddening mark with his tongue to soothe the sting of pain. 

She was clawing at his arms and shoulders, nails raking down his skin, and he hissed at the sharp bite of it. But he loved it. Loved that she was marking him up, putting her claim on him in such a visible way. Just as he had done to her. 

Suddenly, he was flipping them, and she squealed, arms flying up to wrap around his neck. San never lost his momentum though, fucking into her with even more force thanks to the new angle and leverage. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking new marks onto the column of her throat.

“Fuckkkk,” he groaned into her, pressing the curse into her skin between the kisses, “you feel so fucking good.” 

Words were lost to her at that point; her eyes rolled back in her head as he slammed into her over and over again. She was whimpering and keening beneath him, her hands tangled in and tugging at his hair as he kept pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

San slipped his own hand between them, effortlessly finding her swollen clit. It was a bit clumsy at first, but he steadied himself quickly, drawing tight little circles over her. He sped up his thrusts, and the force of it had them sliding over the edge of the bed.

He was somehow clear-headed enough to thank god that the daybed was low. Practically just cushions on the floor already, so neither of them ended up hurt when they fully slid to the floor.

Y/N didn’t even seem to notice the shift, pupils blown wide, and cheeks flushed. She looked so fucked out that he thought he might could cum just from the look on her face. From knowing that it was him that put that look there. He set back to rubbing at her clit, determined to make her cum again.

“Can you cum for me again, baby? I need you to cum for me… c’mon and give it to me, yeah?

She didn’t need words to answer him, her body taking over and doing it for her as her pussy clamped down so tight around him that he couldn’t fucking move.

The blinding ecstasy ripped through her, and she screamed his name as her vision fully whited out. She was clinging to him like she might slip away from the earth if he wasn’t there tethering her to it, arms thrown around his shoulders and legs hooked over his hips.

San slapped a hand over her mouth, torn between relishing in the fact that he was the one making her scream like that and being worried about everyone just on the other side of the window being able to hear them. 

He swore to himself that next time, he would make sure they were fully alone. That they had all the privacy they needed so she could be as loud as she wanted. So he would be able to hear all those pretty sounds at full volume.

San knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, the fluttering of her cunt around him and the muffled whines she was making from behind his hand were sending him barreling towards his own climax.

He quickly pulled out, sitting back on his calves, his hand flew over his cock as he gave himself a few pumps. San moaned as he came, hot ropes of cum spilling onto her lower belly. 

She was still trembling through her aftershocks as she hummed and brought her fingers to the mess, swirled them around before bringing them to her lips and licking them clean. The menace made sure to keep her gaze locked on his as she did it, moaning at the taste of him as he watched her slack-jawed.

“Didn’t think it was fair that you got to taste me and I didn’t get to taste you.”

San snorted as he rolled to the side of her, flinging his arm over his face. “Keep looking at me like that and saying shit like that and you’ll definitely be tasting me soon.”

Y/N laughed, and it had him giggling in turn. San wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, pressing soft kisses to her temple. They gave themselves a few moments to fully catch their breaths before they decided they should clean up and head back out to the party before their friends came looking for them.

He needed to find her something clean to wear and offer to have her dress dry cleaned. He told her as much, but she waved him off, telling him not to worry about it. 

San leaned against the doorframe and watched as she tried her best to tame her hair into something remotely presentable. 

“By the way,” he started, “You’re really loud. I was sure someone was going to come in here thinking I was killing you or something.”

Y/N flushed and looked away from him, embarrassed that he had brought it up after the fact. “Sorry… I get so caught up I can’t really help it…”

San paused, head tilting to the side and grinning softly at her.

“I never said it was a bad thing. Or that I didn’t like it. In fact,” He took a step forward, just close enough to be able to settle a hand on her hip, the other cupping her cheek. “I plan on hearing those sounds again. And seeing just how loud you can get."

——

Tag List:

 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

[ladysherreeamore]

Well it looks like Nic is trying to prove yet again that she isn't dating Jake and won't be around him for yet another major event 🤭

She wanted to be as far away from him as she can....again! So she went to Los Angeles (for no reason) although she doesn't need to be there for a couple of weeks.

Some may think it's an old post but either way she's trying to show us she won't be spending time with Jake, another way to say they aren't dating

She also posted the most basic birthday post but she has had so much to say whenever she did a birthday post about Luke, and no the red heart means nothing, she does it for others too

Everyone else in Jakes life has said so much more while jakholes are only focused on a random heart that means nothing

I'd also like to point out how Doug did more of a hard launch then we've ever seen Luke or Nic do with a loving kissing photo, the tag, post directly on his page, stating that he loves him. The Antonia and Jake lovers always say Nic loves Jake and Luke loves Antonia without us seeing any evidence of that or hearing them say this, and neither have claimed these two.

Nicola has missed spending time with Jake at each major event when couples spend time with the person they would be dating. She had no reason to miss spending time with him for any of these occasions because she wasn't working. She went away to her mom's for Christmas and New Years and until WT didn't see them together since December 15th for 3 long weeks! Then she comes back to support him like she does with all of her friends while showing off her tan that she wouldn't get from the cold environment. She didn't even tag him on her birthday post yet jakoles assume they were together but she always tags him in posts he's a part of. Now she goes to LA just before his birthday for no reason although the SAG awards won't start for 2 weeks and just posts the most basic birthday post with him near a trash can, but they think this is what dating looks like? Where is the love? Anytime i'm in a relationship I would do the most loving post and spend time with them for all major holidays and birthdays and I would take them home to meet my mom, Nic isn't doing any of that!