#and also the warm hugs the hand holding and the mischievous grins and warm smiles!!!!!

[robinsnest2111]

back to twilight blogging for a sec:

I think it's fucking funny how whenever Jacob transforms into werewolf form real fast he shreds either one or both of his white sneakers. and how it happens so much the white shreds are a distinct enough sign that it was him

poor guy tho, always involuntarily shredding his clothes (esp. his shoes!) when he is already struggling financially. having to buy a whole new wardrobe every couple weeks must be torture. miss author lady really wanted him to suffer huh?

[cherryredlove]

☆ eiffel tower ☆

Modern! au Cregan Stark x reader x Jacaerys Velaryon SMUT

Includes Cregan x Jacaerys smut

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Baela and Rhaena always host the hottest parties of the summer. Invitied alongside your best friend Helaena, you meet two handsome men who seem equally interested in you as you are in them.

Word Count: 2.5k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, threesome, p in v, oral, eiffel towering, cum eating, alcohol consumption, cigarettes

also just imagine cregan in the pics has dark hair ahah

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The hot July night is thick with the mingled sounds of the party—a seamless mix of bass-heavy music, laughter, and shouts cutting the air. You feel the vibrations through the floor as you push your way through the crowded living room of Rhaena and Baela’s apartment. They live in a swanky flat in the city centre of King's Landing. It's their birthday, and, as usual, they’ve gone all out. Neon lights bounce off the walls, casting a colourful glow that makes everything feel both surreal and electrifying.

You'd worn your favourite sexy black top and bootcut jeans, making your ass look fantastic, as your flatmate Dyana had so kindly informed you. Bangles jingling, you make your way toward the makeshift bar in the corner, your eyes scanning the throngs of people dancing and talking, searching for a familiar face. Finally, you spot her—Helaena, your best friend, is lounging on a couch, deep in conversation with a couple of guys from her art class, while sipping a bottle of Asshai beer. She waves at you enthusiastically, a smile stretching across her face.

“Hey, you made it!” Helaena shouts over the music, wrapping you in a quick hug. She smells like lavender and vodka, wearing a blue skater dress, a familiar and comforting combination. “I was starting to think you’d bail on me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your voice barely audible over the thumping beats. You lean in closer. “This place is insane.”

Helaena laughs, nodding in agreement. “You should go say hi to Rhaena and Baela later. They’re out on the balcony, holding court as usual.”

As you nod, you can’t help but feel a little out of place, surrounded by people who seem to know exactly where they fit in this chaotic scene. You were a bit of a party animal too with Helaena, but the party here was madness. You grab a drink from the bar—something pink and fruity that burns just enough to remind you of its potency—and take a long sip, letting the alcohol warm you from the inside.

You seek out Baela and Rhaena. Both of them look divine in gold shimmery tops. They scream a little with excitement when you see them and hand some sourz shots for the three of you to do together.

After, you’ve been chatting with Helaena for a while, legs crossing over eachothers as you lounge on some chairs, when your attention is caught by two guys approaching. Even in the dim light, they stand out: one tall and dark-haired with broad shoulders, the other with brown curls, high cheekbones, and a rougish smile. They're both stunning in that unfairly effortlessly cool way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Hel,” the first one says with an easy smile. His eyes flick to you, holding your gaze a moment longer than polite. “Who’s your friend?”

Helaena grins, ever the mischievous meddler. “This is Y/N,” she says, gesturing toward you. “Y/N, meet Cregan Stark and Jacaerys Velaryon. They’re Baela’s best mates from uni. You guys both study politics and history with her, right?"

Cregan gives you a nod, his smile widening into something warmer, while Jacaerys offers you his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, his voice a low, pleasant rumble.

The conversation flows easily, the four of you finding common ground in shared interests and mutual acquaintances. Cregan regales you all about his recent backpacking trip through the Highlands, the beautiful scenery and his close scrapes with the law, while Jacaerys leans closer, drawing you into a discussion about your favorite bars and places in King's Landing. You find yourself laughing more than you have in weeks, the tension you carried into the party slowly melting away.

As the night deepens and Helaena ends up sneaking off with a mysterious girl named Sara who Cregan knows, the three of you drift outside to the balcony, the cool air a welcome relief from the heat inside. You lean against the railing, the city sprawled out before you while Cregan sparks up a cigarette for you. Below, the streetlights flicker like stars, the hum of traffic a distant lullaby.

“So, what do you think of the party?” Cregan asks, his voice low and inviting.

“It’s amazing,” you admit, taking a sip of your drink that Jace had grabbed for you, a Starfall Screwdriver. “You two must be close with Rhaena and Baela.”

“Yeah, we’ve known them forever,” Jacaerys replies, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. His gaze is steady, intent. “They throw the best parties.”

You nod, feeling the warmth of their attention settle over you like a physical presence. There’s something about the way they look at you—like they’re seeing you, really seeing you—and it makes your heart race in a way you can’t quite explain. You aren't blind to their eyes and where they're looking.

“So, Y/N,” Cregan begins, a playful glint in his eye. His arm rests on your shoulder after taking a drag. “What’s your deal? You seeing anyone?”

The question catches you off guard, your mind scrambling for a response. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. The truth is, your love life has been a series of near misses and almosts, leaving you jaded at a young age.

“Not really,” you finally reply, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “I’ve been kind of focused on other things lately.”

Jacaerys leans closer, his expression thoughtful. “Like what?” His hand brushes your thigh, and you clench slightly. Cregan smirks, and Jace takes a long drink of his beer.

“Like work, mostly,” you say with a shrug, feeling suddenly self-conscious under their scrutiny. “And, you know, just figuring things out.”

Cregan exchanges a glance with Jacaerys, something unspoken passing between them. You feel a twinge of curiosity, wondering what they’re thinking.

“What about you two?” you ask, shifting the focus away from yourself. “Any girlfriends I should be worried about?”

Jacaerys chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, we’re both single. We're too busy having fun, I guess.”

“Though we do have something in mind tonight,” Cregan adds, his tone teasing, almost conspiratorial.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What’s that?” Jace looks amused at your obliviousness.

Cregan and Jacaerys exchange another look, this one filled with a kind of mischievous energy that makes your skin tingle with anticipation. You have the distinct feeling that whatever they’re about to say will lead to a very interesting night.

“Well,” Jacaerys says slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, “we were actually wondering if you’d be interested in something…a little different tonight.”

Your heart skips a beat, the possibilities flashing through your mind. You find yourself leaning in, caught in their magnetic pull.

“What do you have in mind?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan’s smile is all charm and challenge. “A threesome,” he says simply. “You, me, and Jace.”

You blink, your mind momentarily short-circuiting at the proposition. Of all the things you’d imagined, this wasn’t one of them. And yet, the idea sends a thrill coursing through you, igniting something bold and adventurous that you didn’t quite realize was there.

“I—” You start, then pause, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

Jacaerys steps closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm, inviting shadow. “No pressure,” he says, his voice gentle but edged with excitement. “But we think you’re amazing. And we’d love to spend the night making you feel that way.”

Your pulse quickens at his words, the heat between you three palpable and undeniable. You consider their offer. They're both hot, both your type, and they both fancy you. The decision weighs on your mind, and yet, somewhere beneath the surface, you know exactly what you want.

Taking a deep breath, you meet their expectant gazes, a slow smile spreading across your lips. You down your drink. “Alright,” you say, your heart racing with anticipation. “Let’s do it.” They both smile, and their grip on you becomes a tad tighter.

“Great,” Cregan says. “How about we head back to ours? We live in a flat just a couple of minutes away.”

You nod, feeling a heady mix of nerves and thrill. As you follow them through the party, weaving through the throngs of people and neon-lit haze, you feel your heart and pussy begin to thrum.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The ride to their apartment is a blur of laughter and anticipation, the city lights streaking past like shooting stars. You sit between them in the backseat of the cab, your legs brushing against theirs, the proximity sending shivers up your spine. Cregan brushes your neck lightly with his knuckles, and you tense when Jace's hands move upwards from your knee to your inner thigh. Feeling both of their mouths so close to you, their hot breath and their longing, heated gazes makes your pussy clench, excited.

When you finally arrive, the apartment is everything you imagined—a stylish blend of modern and cosy, the kind of place that feels lived in and loved. As soon as the door closes behind you, Jacaerys presses you against the wall, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s all fire and passion. You melt into him, his hands gripping your shoulders tight and keeping you upright.

Cregan’s hands find your waist, pulling you from the wall and sandwiching himself behind you, his touch firm and grounding as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down your spine. You can feel his hardness press into your ass from behind. You kick off your shoes and let Cregan pull your jeans down.

You nod, your breath hitching as Jacaerys trails kisses down your neck, his hands deftly unzipping his jeans. “More than alright,” you manage to say, the words a breathless promise. Jace rubs your thighs with his heavy hands and Cregan gropes your tits, pulling his shirt over his head.

You each undress, hands reaching out when not removing clothes to grasp at each other and kiss hotly, all tongues. You're not sure who you're kissing or who's kneading your ass when they guide you toward the bedroom.

Pushing you gently onto the bed, Jace turns to Cregan and kisses him, Cregan moaning lightly at the touch. Your pussy explodes ablaze at the sight, whimpering as the pair advance on you like wolves.

Cregan yanks your legs towards him, opening them and sighing at the sight.

"Oh, Jace, look at her," he smirks. "Already soaking wet and we haven't even started."

Jacaerys laughs lightly, kneeling besides your body as Cregan swipes a finger through your pussy slick. That draws a hot moan from your parted lips.

"Will you be good and let Cregan look after you?" Jacaerys asks, your eyes glued to his hardened cock that brushes against your tits as he leans down. You nod, moaning as he kisses you, and places your hand on his cock to stroke it.

Cregan takes his cue and sinks his mouth down onto your heat. You whimper loudly as he softly licks up your slick and begins sucking lightly on your aching clit. Encouraged by your reaction, he eats your pussy more fervently, devouring any juices and engufling your labia in his hot mouth.

Jace moans as you stroke his cock, Cregan watching the sight from between your legs. You reach down with your other hand to grasp Cregan's dark hair, pulling slightly. His eyes roll back and you notice his hand is between his legs, jerking his huge cock at the sight of you and Jace.

It's too much for you. You feel like you'll explode. Jacaerys grabs your tits and tweaks your tender nipples, and you moan, arching your back and feeling the start of an orgasm creep up on you.

"Come on Princess," Jace gasps. "Cum for us." He spills a thick white rope of cum over your tits. Cregan, eyes wide, eats your pussy with such vigour that he yanks an orgasm from you, and you howl as you cum. He jerks himself as he cums on your thighs.

Panting, you watch as Cregan approaches Jace. You would have expected yourself to be satisfied by now, but watching Jace lick the cum off himself and Cregan inflames your pussy once more. You wobble upwards, kneeling on the floor and engulfing Jace's cock with your mouth as you jerk Cregan's cock. The pair moan into eachothers mouths at the touch.

Leaning down, Cregan pulls you gently by the hair onto all fours. Your eyes widen as you realise what he means. Your mouth opens involuntarily as he makes you suck his fingers, chuckling to himself.

"You reckon she's ready?" Jace asks him. Cregan nods, eyes dark and glinting.

"Oh yes, her pussy's a mess. Look at how good she is, sucking my fingers," he removes them, smirking as you whine. "Don't worry girl, you'll be able to suck all you want."

He nudges his cock by your lips, and you swallow it whole. He begins thrusting lightly, moaning heavily at how good your mouth feels wrapped around his cock.

You startle when you feel Jacaerys' hard cock press against your pussy lips, gently easing inside as your eyes roll back. You feel so full as he settles deep inside you.

Jace begins thrusting against you, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that very few can reach whilst Cregan uses your hair to push you deeper onto his cock. Breathing through your nose, you sink down until his cock is deep in your throat, making a strangled moan come from his lips. You can feel the hot licks of pleasure build again inside as Jace rubs your clit as he pummels your pussy and gives you a healthy slap on your ass, watching it shake. His hands grab your hips and squeeze, leaving bruises that will spark some intense memories later.

Cregan huffs and you can tell he's close to finishing, so you swallow hard as his cock hits your throat again. He cries out and you feel ropes of salty cum filling up your mouth and throat.

You climax at the feeling, Jace's fingers carrying you over the edge as he pulls out and cums across your back. Your pussy flutters as you cum hard, collapsing on the floor as the two men pant and join you.

All three of you lie there, softly breathing and exchanging sweet kisses and looks. Cregan stands first, hauling you up to the bathroom to wipe you down whilst Jace grabs you some water each.

Sandwiched between them in bed again, you feel yourself drift off to sleep as Cregan and Jace hold you tight. You can only hope the next time with the pair will be even better.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: hope yall enjoyed that. i definitely prefer writing modern aus for some reason. any requests send them in, lmk if you want more like this!

[isaisliterallyhim]

ft. michael kaiser . ooc! kaiser :c . possibly soft! kaiser? . fluff . comfort . gn! reader . established relationships . new years!! . dates >< (kinda more of a hangout) . unreliable narrator

wc: 484

michael kaiser was born on the day where everything was considered a gift. yet his parents never saw him as one — rather, he was seen as an absolute burden.

it hurt the midfielder. to be born on a day in which feelings were to be warm and welcoming, only to be faced with cold and unwelcoming feelings. ironic, isn't it?

kaiser never viewed any holidays as special. no one taught or shown him that holidays were special. could you really blame the poor boy? new years were just more years for him to dread. :(

imagine how he felt at the foreign feeling of warmth from none other than his beloved partner.

the countdown for new years was coming. "mihya!" you grinned, as you clasped your hands with the midfielder's. intertwining fingers. kaiser could hear the excitement and enthusiasm in your voice.

it made him feel a little fuzzy inside — hell he was somewhat flustered about it! a faint smile appeared on his face. the clock ticked, nearing 12.

"it's almost new years!!" one of your friend exclaims. kaiser rolled his eyes out of annoyance. his attitude was well... kinda valid. to be fair, you did force lovingly negotiated with him to go out and watch fireworks along with you n your friends.

"3, 2, 1! happy new year's!"

everyone, well. almost everyone yelled out. kaiser mumbled it but, hey! at least he said it LMAO. the loud ass fire works were an addition to the intensity of the volume. created a gorgeous scene so whatever!

"happy new year's, mihya." you beamed warmly at him. "i'm so happy i'm entering the new year with such an amazing boyfriend like you. you're so lovable, y'know that right?" you continued.

a stupid, mischievous, and sly expression made it's way to your face. he knew it all too well. he crouched down to your level as you pressed a kiss on his lips.

enveloping you into a hug as the fireworks kept shrieking before they blew up. he reciprocated the kiss before holding you tighter.

"ich liebe dich so sehr, mein schatz," kaiser muttered. "i love you so, so fucking much, [name]." he reiterated in english. his accent was so GAHH!!

"i love you too, michael. remember, you're valued, okay? 'love you so fucking much as well." you whispered into his ear. planting a soft kiss on his cheek before shifting your head to position your chin on his shoulder once more.

"scheiße, [name]. you and your damn words." he thought. that warm, fuzzy and foreign feeling was flowing through out his veins. a few tears slid down his cheeks.

seriously, what did he do to have such an angel to be his partner and by his side? his grip on you tightened a little.

"ich liebe dich mehr, immer [name]" he murmured. a shame you didn't really hear it due to the loud fireworks. he was just so grateful to have you.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

a/n: GODDD MY SWEET SWEET MICHAEL KAISER :(( lowkey teared up while writing this wtf apolgoies for the bumhole plot and the bumhole english jsjsjsjsj cus reminder it id nawt m first lng smh god i love kaiser sm he deserves the WORLD also this wasn't proofread so uh HAHA

[gpcwsl]

r x leah/alessia grew up together and have been best friends since. they act like a couple and everyone thinks they are but they’re both completely oblivious

Warnings: a kiss?

Leah Williamson x Reader

- Last ones to know -

MasterList

The late afternoon sun streamed through the park trees as Leah kicked the football toward you. The thud of her foot meeting the ball was as familiar to you as the sound of your own heartbeat. You darted forward, trying to intercept, but she was faster. Always had been.

“Too slow!” she taunted, her grin wide and mischievous.

You groaned, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You know I let you win, right? I just don’t want to bruise your ego.”

Leah smirked, trapping the ball under her foot. “Sure you did.” She paused, looking around. The park was empty except for the two of you, just like it had been when you were kids. Back then, you’d spend hours here, turning patches of grass into stadiums in your imagination.

“Do you ever think about when we were kids?” Leah asked suddenly, her voice softer.

“All the time,” you admitted, walking up to stand beside her. “Especially how I always carried your team in our little tournaments.”

She bumped you with her shoulder. “Delusional.”

You laughed, but your chest warmed at the familiarity of it all. Leah had always been like this—sharp-tongued but gentle, competitive but protective. The kind of person who’d tease you mercilessly but also stand in front of you if anyone else dared to try.

You’d met Leah when you were seven years old, the new kid in the neighborhood. Your first encounter had been less than graceful: she’d accidentally hit you in the face with a football while practicing in the park.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she’d asked, wide-eyed and panicked, crouching beside you.

You’d sniffled, holding your nose, but the sight of her distressed face had made you laugh. “You’ve got a terrible aim.”

She’d grinned then, the kind of smile that made you forget your stinging nose. “Wanna play?”

From that day on, you were inseparable. Whether it was playing football until the streetlights came on or sneaking into each other’s rooms to whisper about school crushes and big dreams, Leah became your safe place.

Now, years later, that bond had only grown stronger. You and Leah were adults with busy lives, but your friendship remained the one constant.

The first time someone mistook you for a couple, it had been funny. You’d both laughed it off, joking about how people couldn’t handle a “platonic dream team.” But as it happened more often, the jokes started to sting in ways neither of you could explain.

After one of Leah’s matches, you were standing by the pitch, waiting for her. She spotted you instantly, her face breaking into a grin. She jogged over, still in her kit, and pulled you into a sweaty hug.

“God, Leah!” you laughed, trying to squirm away. “You’re disgusting.”

“Stop complaining,” she said, squeezing you tighter. “You love it.”

“Do I?” you teased, but your heart fluttered in a way you chose to ignore.

One of her teammates walked by, smirking. “Leah’s better half strikes again,” she said, giving you a mock salute.

Leah rolled her eyes, but you caught the faint blush on her cheeks. “They’re just jealous,” she muttered as the teammate walked away.

“Jealous of what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Nothing. Forget it.”

You didn’t press her, though you couldn’t shake the way your chest tightened at her words.

Leah’s family had always treated you like one of their own. So when her mum invited you to Sunday dinner, you didn’t hesitate.

The evening was filled with laughter and good-natured teasing, as it always was. You sat next to Leah at the table, your shoulders brushing every so often.

“So,” her mum said, setting down a dish. “When are you two finally going to admit it?”

You froze, a piece of roast halfway to your mouth. “Admit what?”

Leah groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Mum, not this again.”

Her mum just smiled knowingly. “Oh, come on. You’ve been in each other’s pockets since you were kids. It’s obvious to everyone except you two.”

You laughed nervously, glancing at Leah. “We’re just friends,” you said quickly.

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

Leah didn’t say anything, but she was unusually quiet for the rest of the meal.

ILater that night, as you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about her mum’s words. Were you and Leah really so obvious? And if so… why didn’t you feel weird about it?

Leah, meanwhile, was having similar thoughts. She stared at her ceiling, replaying the day in her mind. It wasn’t the first time someone had assumed you were together, but this time it felt different.

“Why does it matter?” she whispered to herself, her chest tightening.

The week after Leah’s family dinner was like any other on the surface. You still met up for your usual Friday coffee run and sent each other memes at midnight, but there was a shift in the air. Something unspoken hovered between you, neither of you daring to address it.

It started when you mentioned a coworker.

“Jamie’s been helping me with this project,” you said casually, sipping your coffee. “They’re great. Really funny, too.”

Leah froze mid-bite of her croissant. “Jamie?” she asked, trying to sound uninterested.

You nodded. “Yeah. They’ve been a lifesaver. Stayed late with me last night to finish everything up.”

Leah felt a sharp, unfamiliar pang in her chest. “Sounds… nice,” she said, though her tone betrayed her.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Fine.” She forced a smile, though her grip on her coffee cup tightened.

Later that evening, Leah texted you:

Leah: So… is this Jamie person just a coworker?

You: Yeah, why?

Leah: No reason. Just wondering.

But it wasn’t no reason. The thought of someone else being that close to you made her stomach twist.

A few days later, the tables turned.

Leah had mentioned in passing that her teammates were trying to set her up on a date. You’d laughed it off at first, but when you saw the texts popping up on her phone—“She’s cute, Leah! Just say yes!”—you felt an ache you couldn’t explain.

“You’re actually considering it?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Leah shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, it’s just a date, right?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Right. Just a date.”

But as you walked home that evening, you couldn’t stop picturing her with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

The annual weekend getaway had always been a highlight of your friendship. This year, you rented a small cabin by the lake, just the two of you. It was supposed to be an escape from the noise of your lives, but instead, it became the backdrop for the emotional storm brewing between you.

The first night, you sat by the campfire, the crackling flames casting shadows across Leah’s face.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” you said, breaking the silence.

Leah shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

She hesitated. “Do you ever feel like… people see us differently than we see ourselves?”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Like… maybe they see something we don’t.”

Your chest tightened. “Are you talking about what your mum said?”

Leah nodded, her gaze fixed on the fire. “Yeah. I mean, why do people keep saying it? Are we… giving them a reason to think that?”

You laughed nervously. “We’re just close. People don’t get it.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Maybe.”

The conversation lingered in the air, unresolved.

The next day, you went out for a hike. The trail was quiet, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional birdcall.

As you reached the summit, Leah stopped and turned to you.

“Why did you ask if I was considering that date?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know. Just curious.”

She stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. “Was that all it was?”

“Why are you asking me this?” you whispered, your heart pounding.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about it,” she admitted. “Every time someone flirts with you or sets me up, I feel… I don’t know. Weird. Like it’s wrong.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. “Leah…”

“I think…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Forget it.”

But you couldn’t forget it. Her words stayed with you, echoing in your mind long after the hike was over.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat on the cabin porch, staring at the lake. Leah joined you, sitting so close your knees touched.

“I need to say something,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

You turned to her, your breath catching at the vulnerability in her eyes.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it,” she began, “but I can’t anymore. I think… I’ve always felt something more for you. I just didn’t realize what it was until now.”

Your heart stopped. “Leah, are you saying…?”

“I love you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as a friend. Not just because we’ve known each other forever. I love you in every way.”

Tears stung your eyes as her words sunk in. “Leah, I…” You trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

But you couldn’t let her think it wasn’t mutual. Reaching out, you took her hand in yours. “I love you too,” you admitted. “I think I always have. I was just too scared to see it.”

Relief and joy flooded her face as she pulled you into her arms.

The weekend at the cabin came to an end too quickly, and you found yourself driving back home, the weight of the real world creeping back in. But this time, it felt different.

Leah was in the passenger seat, her hand resting on the center console, palm up. Without thinking, you slipped your fingers into hers. She glanced over at you, her smile soft and full of unspoken promises.

“Do you think people will notice?” you asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Leah raised an eyebrow. “Notice what?”

“That we’re… different now,” you said, your voice quieter.

Leah’s thumb traced slow circles on the back of your hand. “They’ve always thought we were a couple. Now they’ll just be right.”

You laughed, her words easing your nerves. “Fair point.”

Her tone turned more serious. “We don’t have to tell anyone right away if you’re not ready. This is ours, first and foremost.”

You glanced at her, warmth flooding your chest. “No, I want them to know. I want the world to know.”

Leah’s smile widened, her cheeks tinged pink. “Good. Because I was going to have a hard time not kissing you in public.”

It didn’t take long for Leah’s teammates to figure it out. You showed up at her next match, as you always did, but this time something was different.

When Leah spotted you in the stands, she jogged over after the final whistle and pulled you into a hug—nothing unusual. But then she pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back, her grin sheepish but unashamed.

You felt your face heat as her teammates began whooping and cheering from the sidelines.

“Finally!” one of them shouted, throwing her arms in the air. “I was starting to think you two would never figure it out!”

Leah rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You lot are ridiculous.”

“But we’re right,” another teammate said, grinning at you. “Welcome to the family, officially.”

When you showed up at Leah’s family home for dinner a week later, her mum took one look at you and grinned.

“So, it’s finally happened,” she said, hands on her hips.

Leah groaned, her face in her hands. “Mum, can we not make this a thing?”

Her mum just laughed, pulling you both into a hug. “Oh, it’s a thing, sweetheart. I’ve been rooting for this since you were kids.”

Leah’s cheeks turned red, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess we were the last ones to know, huh?”

Her mum winked at you. “Better late than never.”

A few weeks later, Leah insisted on taking you out for a proper date. She picked a cozy Italian restaurant, tucked away from the usual crowds.

You sat across from her, your hands intertwined on the table, the candlelight casting soft shadows across her face.

“You’re staring,” she teased, though her own gaze hadn’t left yours.

“Can you blame me?” you shot back, feeling bold.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I still can’t believe this is real,” she admitted. “That you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours,” you said softly.

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed your hand. “And I’ve always been yours.”

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how relaxed she was, her guard completely down in a way you’d only ever seen when it was just the two of you. It felt right—like you’d both finally found the piece of your lives that had been missing.

Months passed, and your relationship only grew stronger. The transition from best friends to partners wasn’t always easy—there were moments of doubt, of learning how to navigate the new dynamic—but you faced it all together.

One quiet evening, you sat on the couch in Leah’s flat, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” she asked suddenly.

You turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” she said, her voice soft. “I mean, we’ve known each other forever, but now… it feels like we’re starting all over again. In a good way.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Whatever’s next, we’ll figure it out together. We always do.”

She grinned, leaning up to kiss you. “I like the sound of that.”

[oo432i]

wasted

pairing ; husband!anton x wife!reader

summary ; you and anton are invited to appear on the popular talk show byob hosted by joon and brian. you both shares anecdotes about your relationship, from how you guys met to their first impressions of one another. fans also get a sneak peek into your married life, plans for the future, and anton’s sweet, drunken confessions that make you and everyone else fall for him all over again.

warning(s) ; english is not my first language, alcohol consumption, light teasing, fluff overload.

part of a series — jagi, mwohae?

Sitting on the terrace, you and Anton waited for your cue to join Joon and Brian on their show. You could hear faint laughter and chatter inside as the two hosts warmed up the audience. Anton reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You nervous?” he asked, his soft voice cutting through the evening air.

You smiled, shaking your head.

“Not with you here. But… I am curious about what they’ll ask us.”

He chuckled, leaning closer.

“Probably something embarrassing. I’ll take the heat for us if it gets too bad.”

Before you could even respond, the production assistant signaled it was time, and you both stood.

“Hyung, guess who’s joining us today!” Joon teased, leaning toward Brian.

“I’ll give you a hint, they’re both very famous.”

“Bro, aren’t all our guests famous?” Brian rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean like very famous.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

Joon grinned mischievously before announcing,

“Let’s welcome today’s guests, Y/N and Anton, the ‘IT’ couple!”

Applause from staff member erupted as you and Anton walked onto the set. Brian stood to greet Anton with a bro hug.

“What’s up, Anton? Long time no see.”

“Good to see you again, man,” Anton replied with his signature bright smile.

Joon turned to you, his eyes wide with mock amazement.

“Y/N, you look stunning!”

You laughed.

“Thank you, Joon. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

Once everyone settled, Brian leaned forward and ask.

“So, what did you guys bring to ‘BYOB’ for today?”

Anton reached under the table, pulling out a sleek bottle of whiskey.

“This is our favorite drink. I thought it’d be fitting to bring it here.”

“And soju!” you added, holding up the bottle with a grin.

“Because it’s my second favorite.”

Joon’s eyes widened.

“Yo, they know how to party. Why not open them up now?”

Brian grabbed paper cups and poured drinks for everyone. After a toast, he took a sip and exclaimed,

“This whiskey is dangerous, not too strong but just sweet enough.”

Joon nodded.

“I like it. You two really brought the good stuff.”

After some casual banter, Joon shifted the conversation.

“So, I heard you just celebrated your first wedding anniversary. Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” you and Anton said in unison.

“Time really flies,” Anton added, his hand resting lightly on yours.

“Let’s talk about how you two met,” Brian said.

You smiled, reminiscing.

“We met when I was visiting my cousin. Anton lived a few houses down, and we started out as friends. From strangers to friends, then lovers, and now here we are.”

Brian turned to Anton.

“What was your first impression of her?”

Anton chuckled.

“Honestly? How bright and extroverted she was. I was so shy back then, and she had this way of drawing me out of my shell. It felt… balanced.”

“And Y/N? What about you?”

“My first impression of Anton was his voice. It’s so soft and calming… like an angel. And his smile? It’s everything.”

Joon dramatically clutched his chest.

“Anton, you’re making it hard for the rest of us! That soft voice could make anyone fall for you.”

You playfully leaned closer to Anton.

“Well, too bad. He’s mine.”

The group laughed before Brian asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“So, any plans for kids?”

Anton nodded thoughtfully.

“We’ve talked about it. We both love the idea of starting a family, but we want to wait until we’re ready. Maybe in two or three years.”

“Yeah,” you added.

“We want to enjoy this time together first. But we do love babies.”

As conversation flowed, drinks poured, Anton began to loosen up, a soft flush coloring his cheeks. He leaned closer to you, his words slightly slurred but still clear.

“Do you know how lucky I am?” he said, his gaze locking onto yours.

You laughed nervously, knowing he was entering his overly affectionate, tipsy phase.

“Anton…”

“No, I’m serious.” He turned to Joon and Brian.

“She’s everything. Like, I don’t think I’d be half the person I am today without her. She’s my anchor, my best friend, my—”

“Okay, okay!” you interrupted, face burning.

“I think he’s had enough.”

Brian and Joon were doubled over with laughter.

“Yo, Anton, you’re gonna make us all cry,” Joon said, wiping his eyes.

“But it’s sweet,” Brian added. “Keep going.”

Anton ignored them, still focused on you.

“I just want everyone to know how much I love you. Even if I embarrass myself on national TV, it’s worth it.”

You covered your face with your hands, laughing and groaning at the same time.

“He’s like this every time he drinks.”

“And we love it,” Brian said.

Anton leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze softened. He was quiet for a moment, prompting Joon to nudge him with a laugh.

“Yo, Anton, you good? Did the whiskey hit you more already?”

Anton chuckled and shook his head, his focus drifting toward you.

“No, I’m just… thinking about something. You know, it’s one thing to love someone, but it’s another to realize how lucky you are to have them.”

Brian raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh, we’re getting deeper now. What’s on your mind?”

Anton smiled wistfully, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Our wedding day. That moment when Y/N walked down the aisle… I swear, it hit me like a ton of bricks. She looked so beautiful, so radiant. I couldn’t believe she was about to marry me. I mean, who am I to deserve her?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him.

“Stop that. You know how much I love you.”

“No, but seriously,”

Anton continued, looking at the hosts.

“I was standing there, and I felt this overwhelming mix of emotions, happiness, gratitude, even a little bit of fear. And then I remembered what my dad told me once.”

Joon leaned forward, curiosity piqued.

“What did he say?”

Anton’s smile grew, and he glanced at you before answering.

“He said, ‘When you find someone who brings out the best in you, who makes you want to be better every single day, don’t ever let them go. And if you’re lucky enough to marry her, make sure she knows how much you love her every single day.’”

The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone absorbing the weight of his words.

“He told me that when I first introduced him to Y/N,”

Anton added, his voice soft.

“He could see how happy she made me, how much I lit up whenever I was around her. And on our wedding day, as I watched her walk toward me, I realized he was right. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

Joon let out a dramatic sigh, fanning his face.

“Okay, who’s cutting onions in here? Anton, you’re killing me, man.”

Brian nodded, visibly moved.

“That’s so beautiful, hyung. Honestly, it’s refreshing to see someone so genuine about their love.”

You placed a hand on Anton’s, squeezing it gently.

“He’s always been like this. Even when he’s not drunk, he has a way of making me feel like the most loved person in the world.”

Anton grinned, his confidence returning.

“Well, I’m just telling the truth.”

[slaybestieslay946]

omg I LOVED the dad!luke one you did!! I was wondering if you could do another future au with Poseidon daughter!reader? Maybe like Percy visiting is (half) nieces and nephews?

thanks sm for your request!! this is such a cute idea i hope i did it justice!

MASTERLIST

Blue Pasta

word count: 900

pairing: luke castellan x poseidon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: down horrendous for luke cooking like OMFGG

“Luke, Y/N, we’re here!” A chirpy voice called out from the hall, and almost immediately you could hear the sounds of scurrying feet and paws rushing to meet the two demigods. 

You abandoned your spot on the sofa to walk down the hall, smiling as you watched your brother interact with his nephew. You  knew you should probably go and save Percy from the attack of your young son and a labrador, but the sight was just too adorable. 

Annabeth quickly noticed your presence, grinning brightly as she stepped towards you, wrapping her arms around your middle for a hug, just like she had when she was a kid. Now she was just as tall as you, but still hugging you like she was ten. 

“How’ve you been?” She asked, stepping away. 

“Busy.” You laughed, “Apparently the second one’s supposed to be easier. Complete lie.” 

She laughed in return, and it appeared Percy only just noticed you were standing right there, letting go of James for a moment to greet you. 

“Is this really how you treat your only sister?” You remarked, looking sternly up at him. 

“Sorry, but we all know I prefer hanging out with James.” He shrugged, and the young boy giggled mischievously from beside him. 

“Yes, yes I know.” You then began to move back down the hallway, unable to tame your smile at the sound of your brother entertaining his nephew. He’d make a great dad someday, you were sure of it. 

As you entered the kitchen, you couldn’t help but break into an even wider smile at the sight of your husband, wearing a stupid apron you’d gotten him that said, “I love my wife.” 

When he caught sight of you all, he put down the bowl of cake mix he was holding and stepped around the kitchen counter, holding out his arms to embrace Annabeth, the girl he called his younger sister. 

You watched as he gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulder before moving onto Percy. 

“Hey Perce.” He said, tugging your brother in for a hug by his outstretched hand and clapping him on the back. 

“Good to see you man.” Percy responded, before looking down at his apron, “Damn, she’s got you whipped hasn’t she?” 

“Damn right.” Luke declared, moving over to pull you into his side and plant a kiss into your hair.

He then returned to his baking, and all the adults stood for a while in the kitchen, conversing about one thing or the next. Annabeth’s new job, James’ school, typical ‘adult stuff’ that your son didn’t find particularly enthusing. 

You spotted him whispering to Percy about how they should go out and play in the garden. The pair then turned to you for permission, to which you rolled your eyes before nodding. 

You decided to follow after them, leaving Annabeth and Luke to catch up in the kitchen. You then picked up Violet from her cot and slipped on your garden shoes and entered the warm spring air.

Your brother and his nephew were in the centre of the small garden, kicking around a football and playfully attempting to score against one another. Percy kept up a running commentary the whole time, his little jokes here and there never failing to make James laugh. He also peppered in bits of praise about the boy's skill, leading your son onto a long rant about what he had learned in soccer practice that week. 

Percy nodded along, asking questions animatedly, and you could tell he really did care. It warmed your heart to watch, and sometimes you wondered how you had all ended up here, able to carve out a space for yourselves after such troubled beginnings. 

You and Luke had started a family, Percy was training to become a teacher, and Annabeth was on her way to becoming a world-renowned architect. Somehow, everything had worked out the way it was supposed to. 

Eventually the two boys tired of their games, James slumping down on the grass to catch his breath, and Percy coming to sit beside you. 

“Hey.” He said quietly, looking down at Violet almost in awe. 

“You wanna hold her?” You offered, holding out the bundle in your arms. 

He nodded quickly, taking her off you and cradling her in his arms. 

“She looks so much like you.” He whispered, rocking the girl quietly, not taking his eyes off her tiny face.

You’d never really thought about it before, but he was right. You could tell James was Luke’s, that curly brown hair was almost unmistakeable, but looking at her now it was so clear that Violet was yours. She had the same eyes that you saw in the mirror everyday. 

You turned back to Percy, who had tears in his eyes, and from the look on his face you could tell it was from pride, pride that him and his sister had managed to carve out these lives for themselves. 

“Are you about to cry on me, Perce?” You asked, not unkindly. 

“Nope!” He laughed, shaking his head. 

You looked back at your little brother, the one you had welcomed into cabin 3 all those years ago, the one you would die for in a heartbeat, and the one that would do the same for his family, and you knew you also felt so much pride. 

“C’mon.” You nudged, brushing away the tears in your own eyes, “It’s time for dinner. I got Luke to make blue pasta for you specially.”

[rosemariiaa]

~ A Frosted Moment ~

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing- Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie’s note: i’ve gotten so many ice skating reqs i wanted to do a fluffy little ice skating date! this is literally so heart warming though, also thanks to my sweet Ke for encouraging me to post 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── themes: pure cuteness, fluff

enjoy!!!

The Minnesota air was crisp as Paige and Azzi stepped out of the car, the snow crunching beneath their boots. Paige’s hometown was a winter wonderland, the streets lined with snow-covered houses and twinkling lights. Drew had already greeted the girls with a warm and very tight hug as Paige would say, and after a quick chat about school and Drew’s basketball , he disappeared into the house with their dad waving goodbye to the girls, leaving Paige and Azzi to finally go to the car and go on their date.

In the quiet of the car ride, Azzi couldn’t help but steal glances at Paige. The way Paige’s hands gripped the steering wheel and the occasional glimmer of excitement in her eyes were endearing. Paige had a way of being completely in the moment, and Azzi admired her for it.

“Every second counts, I don’t wanna talk to you anymore, and / All these little games / You can call me by the name I gave you”

The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, filled with the unspoken bond they shared. Azzi’s thoughts wandered as Paige navigated the snowy roads, her admiration for Paige growing with every mile.

“I can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasures all mine”

When they arrived at the rink, Paige fidgeted with her scarf, clearly nervous. Azzi, on the other hand, was practically bouncing with excitement. She led the way, her breath visible in the cold air as she approached the entrance.

Azzi skated effortlessly onto the ice, her movements graceful and confident. Paige hesitated, the skates feeling awkward on her feet. Azzi skated back, her smile playful and encouraging.

“Come on, P, it’s not that hard. Just follow my lead,” Azzi called out, her soft voice warm and inviting. Paige rolled her eyes, trying to hide her nervousness. “Easy for you to say. You’re practically gliding.”

“Can you see me? I’m waiting for the right time”

Azzi’s laughter was soothing as she reached out to help Paige. Their hands touched, and Paige’s heart skipped a beat. The contact was warm, despite the cold around them.

Azzi guided Paige onto the ice, their hands still linked. Paige stumbled, but Azzi was there to catch her, their faces inches apart. The closeness was intoxicating, making Paige’s pulse quicken.

“I don’t wanna be forward, I don’t wanna cut corners / Savor this with everything I have inside of me”

Azzi’s teasing continued as Paige wobbled, trying to find her balance. “Careful, or I might have to catch you again,” Azzi said with a mischievous grin.

Paige laughed, her cheeks flushing with both the cold and her embarrassment. “Oh, ha ha. Very funny.”

Their laughter mingled with the crisp winter air, creating a moment that felt both playful and intimate. As they skated in small circles, their closeness was undeniable.

After a while, they took a break on the benches by the rink, the snow gently falling around them. Paige and Azzi sat close, the silence between them now filled with a comfortable intimacy.

Azzi glanced at Paige, her eyes soft. “You know, I didn’t think I’d miss this kind of stuff. But being here with you—it’s nice.”

Paige looked at Azzi, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it is. I’ve missed moments like these especially with school and basketball. It feels… just right.”

“Cases under the bed / Spill it open, let it rush to my head”

The snow continued to fall, adding a magical touch to their evening. Paige reached out and gently took Azzi’s hand, holding it in the cold. Azzi’s heart fluttered at the touch, her eyes meeting Paige’s with a mixture of affection and uncertainty.

“I’m glad we did this,” Paige said softly. “It’s… perfect. You’re perfect Az.”

Azzi smiled, her heart swelling with the sincerity of the moment. “Didn’t know you were such the charmer.” Azzi softly giggled teasing Paige. “ But me too. It’s been a while since I felt this… content.” Paige smiled at that admiring Azzi’s deep dimples appear.

As they stood up to leave, Paige paused, her gaze lingering on Azzi. She reached out, gently stopping Azzi from getting into the car.

“Know you’d make fun of me / Know you’d make fun of me”

Paige’s crystal blue eyes met Azzi’s with a serious, yet tender look. “Before we head back, I just… I need to do this.”

Without waiting for a response, Paige leaned in and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Azzi’s lips. Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut as she held Paige’s face, her fingers gently caressing her cheeks. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, their bodies melding together in a perfect, sweet embrace.

The kiss was gentle, full of the warmth and affection that had built up between them. It was a moment of pure connection, a promise wrapped in the softness of winter.

When they finally parted, both of them were smiling, their breaths mingling in the cold air. Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s, their closeness a silent affirmation of their feelings.

“Let’s go,” Paige whispered, taking Azzi’s hand as she opened the passenger side of the car for her, the night feeling even more magical after their shared moment.

———-

they are tewwww cute! ok bye!!

[ginkgo-phyta]

Tantalizing / Spencer Reid

PART TWO: Link

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Words: ~8k

Tags/Warnings: SMUT!!! like pure smut, AFAB fem reader, no usage of "y/n", light footplay, light nipple play, humping, unprotected penetration, slight dom/sub themes (nothing intense, maybe more like switch?), secret relationship, extensive foreplay teehee ;]

Summary: You haven't had good, quality, playful time with Spencer in quite a while- the team's schedule having been jam packed with cases. Its been making you antsy, expounded by how good your boyfriend has been dressing lately. You decide late one night that enough is enough, and you had to dig your claws into him. Even if people end up finding out about you two.

Author's Note: inspired by spencer's s7 outfits...they're so good. they make me wanna bark. this is my very first time writing smut! ahhh!! also i didn't know wtf to title this.

“Hi Spencer…” Your alluring voice purred into Spencer’s ears as he held the hotel door open for you, the seductive timbre curling up the back of his neck, brushing against his warming cheeks and flicking the ends of the hair that tickled the shell of his ear.

“C-come in, quickly”. He ushered you in, closing the door swiftly behind you. The stammer caused you to grin mischievously and you watched Spencer pause in the middle of the room- just staring at you hesitantly, taking in your appearance as he played with the hem of his sweater vest. You donned a half-sleeved retro style black dress with a white collar and small buttons going down the front- his favorite on you. The belt hugged your waist beautifully and the skirt that shaped out your hips flared out a bit at the end, falling right at the knee. With it you wore an assortment of dainty jewelry, very sheer black tights and short forest green heels. He had seen you just a handful of times throughout the day, and each time he had to find some excuse to leave your vicinity in order to hold onto even a sliver of concentration on the case.

“I’ve missed you all day, baby.” you start to step closer to him, twirling the ends of your perfectly curled ponytailed hair between your fingers. The soft thuds of your kitten heels sent tingles down Spencer’s spine. “Did ya miss me?” you questioned him with a little pout. Now mere inches away from him you traced your manicured fingers down the lapels of his blazer. Reflexively, his hands shot up to rest ever-so-lightly on the curve of your hips.

He gulped, watching you playfully bat your mascaraed eyelashes up at him, “Of course, I did.” Spencer cleared his throat, trying to gain some sort of composure, “I wished you could have come out into the field with me, but you need to get better first.” His right hand shyly moved up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to fiddle with the small golden hoop on your lobe. 

A dramatic sigh huffed out of your plump, glossy lips while fixing the knot of his tie, “I knoooow,” tone almost childish in reluctance, “I just love seeing you work.” You threw your arms over his shoulders, flashing him the beautiful smile he loved oh-so-much to see, “Which is why I’m here. Wanna see what you’re up to.” The bite of your lip, the glint in your eye, and the glimpse to his own lips made it clear to Spencer that you held a different motive. “Show me what you're working on?” you turn to make your way to the desk where dozens of papers and multiple files were scattered around. The purposefully enticing sway of your hips left Spencer captivated.

You had suffered a pretty bad concussion a couple weeks ago at the hands of an unsub weidling a copper pipe. The proceeding vertigo refused to relent its choking grip on your inner ear resulting in being “banned” from the field until a doctor’s clearance- or two, if Spencer could have his way. Usually this wouldn’t be all that big of a deal for you, but the case the BAU team was currently working on had Spencer away from you for most of the day, profiling the suspected murderer’s house in an attempt to find details that could lead to the missing victim. You were left twiddling your thumbs at the precinct. Well, not really, but it sure did feel like it at times.

“Ooo, the coded messages. Have my analyses helped you at all?” your voice pulled Spencer out of his debauched thoughts. His gaze landed on your face, all traces of seductive tactics were gone, replaced by eager and adorable curiosity. The unsub had several coded messages in journals scattered around his apartments that were proving to be incredibly difficult to crack. Spencer let out a breathy chuckle as he excitedly made his way over to sit at the desk. 

“Yes, they actually did. I was able to-” and off he went down the rabbit hole of a tangent. Although normally you would have intently listened to what he had to say, this time watching him passionately ramble reignited the little flame in your bosom. You leaned against the desk, letting your eyes wander over Spencer’s expressive hands and fingers as he gestured to different pieces of paper. You interrupted his spiel by sliding into the space between his body and the desk, using the toe of your shoe on the seat to roll the creaky swivel chair back.

“The working day is over, Spencie, don’t you think it's time to focus on better things?” Spencer's head snapped down to where your foot rested on the cushion of the flimsy motel office chair, right between his legs and dangerously close to his clothed cock. He followed the line of your nylon clad leg, over the skirt of your work dress, across the prominence of your chest, up the slope of your neck, and finally to your twinkling eyes. “I don’t deserve any attention, baby?” you tilted your head ever so slightly, your hand coming up to delicately play with the single-pearl necklace resting in the Plender’s gap of your collar bones. A delicious, forlorn sigh passed your lips as your fingers glided over your shoulder, head moving with it to look down and pick at the papers laying under your tush, “You didn’t really miss me, did you? All you ever think about is the bad guys.” And there was that pout again. God, you really knew how to make Spencer a mess.

“That’s not true!” he exclaimed immediately, voice cracking slightly at the end. Your eyes snapped to his offended face. You giggled as his Adam’s apple bobbed- you loved teasing him, it boosted your confidence and only egged you further every time. His reactions would always be your drug of choice. “I’m-I’m sorry.” was all else he could spit out.

“What for, honey?” you leaned back on your hands, head tilting to the other side this time.

“For not giving you my attention. I didn’t mean to…neglect you. I really did miss you. I always do.” Spencer’s hands came up to lightly cup your calf, still very aware of its proximity to certain progressively-aching parts of his body.

“Good.” your voice was matter of fact as you straightened up a bit. Spencer watched you pull at your hair-tie and release your ponytail with a few firm shakes, his lips parted with a sharp draw of breath. The foot between his legs briefly moved as you kicked off your heels before it settled back into its original position, this time inching further under his crotch.

He let out a quiet surprised “Ah-” at the contact, his grip on your leg lowered as he squirmed in his seat.

“You like my outfit today? I picked it out specifically for you.” your words turned breathy as you leaned closer to the quiet genius, “You’ve been dressing sooo nice lately, honey, I wanted to look just as pretty as you.” You picked up one of his hands that had slid down to grasp your ankle, pushing his palm flat onto your led as you dragged it up the limb. Under your dress it went, enticing Spencer closer to you in response until his chest hit your shin. His fingers curled onto your thigh, analyzing the smoothness of your tights before you stopped. Instead, you took his fingers and pressed them into the lacey top of your sheer black thigh-high stockings. Another little move, press, and pause, allowing Spencer’s fingers to analyze. They were latched to a garter belt. The realization drew a soft groan from the back of his throat as his forehead dropped onto your knee. He loved when you would wear these. Spencer placed a few barely-there kisses where he could, using his hand to explore your thigh, taking in the difference between your warm skin and the cool nylon. You relished in the way he dug his fingernails into your supple flesh.

“So beautiful…” his whispers into your silked skin tugged a devilish grin up your cheeks. You felt his eyebrows furrow and you could tell his lips were pursed. You craved for his big hands and chapped yet moistened lips to press all over your body, but the teasing was just too fun to quit so soon. Instead, you wove your fingers through his hair, pushing back and coaxing him to look up at you. His cheeks were flushed clove-pink, eyelids drooping slightly as he gazed longingly at your mouth. Spencer’s body tried to jump closer to you, his hands respectively gripped your upper thigh and ankle in a failed attempt to hoist himself up to your hypnotizing smile. You swore you heard him let out a faint moan as his crotch grazed against your lower extremity. This sparked a match in your head.

Much to Spencer’s displeasure you moved away from him, leaning back on hands placed firmly on the desk. He tried to move forward to follow you, but your clothed foot left his crotch to land on his chest, effectively stopping his movements. Spencer let out a huff as it began dragging down his torso, pushing him back into his chair, before its path ended. Your foot hovered over the obvious bulge in his black trousers. “I love wearing these tights,” you started nonchalantly, “They make me feel so pretty and put-together; so hot,” you added a tantalizing emphasis, as if the word was naughty. Your lightly padded toes circled around where Spencer wanted them the most. Instead they avoided it a little longer, going to trace the design of his belt buckle. He screwed his eyes closed- whether to contain himself or simply feel your movements was uncertain. He let out an impatient whine. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” The sole of your foot finally flattened on Spencer’s covered cock.

“Yes, yes, yes” he earnestly groaned out, the hand on your ankle desperately pushing your foot further onto his bulge. That’s what you loved most about fooling around with your beloved- always so eager. You bit back the moan of your own that threatened to spill as Spencer threw his head back. You watched the pads of his fingers dig into your ankle, the other hand slid down the back of your calf to meet its twin as his hips lifted slightly off the chair to grind into your foot. His length hardening and extending could be felt against your sole, slightly ticklish. The scene before you was addictive, the sounds escaping his lips so dirty and provocative. He tugged your leg to press you harder to him, causing you to almost slip off the desk. 

“Tuttutut,” you chided, “slow down, big boy. I never said you could do all that, did I?” As soon as your light scolding processed in his mind, all of his actions stopped. Spencer quickly shook his head while trying to catch his breath. “Answer me.” you tried again. His eyelids blinked open, gaze meek.

“No, no you didn’t.” He removed his hands from your leg, running them through his hair before plopping them onto the arms of the chair as he panted, “I’m sorry, baby, you just feel so good,” he paused to look at you, swallowing hard. “God, I’ve missed you.” His words were smile-inducing. You dragged your foot off of him, deliberately using extra pressure to earn a deep and husky groan. Spencer’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head before they closed again. You could see tiny glistening beads of sweat forming at the edges on his hairline. His eyebrows furrowed and his Adam’s apple shifted a couple times, miniscule twitches plucked the corners of his mouth.

“What are you thinking about now?” you were clearly amused, feet slightly kicking out like a giddy schoolgirl. Spencer didn’t miss a beat in responding.

“You. I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about h-how good you make me feel and how much I want you to touch me more,” another gulp. “How much I want to touch you.” His hands gripped the plastic chair arms, causing them to squeak. You giggled at this. To Spencer, you sounded wicked. 

“You want to fuck me, don’t you baby.” Your words immediately caused him to squirm, whines leaving his throat. He didn’t dare open his eyes yet. It wasn’t a question, you knew for a fact that’s exactly what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say it like that. Not yet, at least. The team had back-to-back cases for the last month and a half, and the two of you haven’t had a chance to actually have sex in the same length of time. You snuck cuddle sessions in each other’s hotel rooms a couple times, but kept them to a minimum as to not arouse suspicion from your teammates. You couldn’t take it anymore, especially with how good he looked today- how good he has looked the last few weeks, really. 

It wasn’t always that you showed your dominant side in bed, but it was all you could think about doing lately.

“Say it. Tell me you want to fuck me, Spencie.” 

Another squirm. Eyes squeezed shut. 

“Be a good boy, baby. Look at me.” your voice was sterner this time, though the playful edge hadn’t fully dissipated. It took a couple seconds but Spencer’s eyelashes finally fluttered open, “There we go,” you cooed. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, still worming a bit in his seat with arms glued to their spots. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.” you leaned your body forward, hoping to come off a bit more domineering. 

Spencer took in a deep breath, eyes flitting around the room in an attempt to avoid your gaze. You didn’t want to ask again, residing to clearing your throat to get your message across. He understood what that meant- you were getting impatient and if you didn’t get what you wanted you would simply stop. He didn’t want that. It’s not like the statement was incorrect, it just wasn’t something that was ever in Dr. Spencer Reid’s ordinary vernacular and he wasn’t yet in the headspace for it to come out without a second thought. He didn’t want to sound stupid. But, oh, he wanted you. Thus, he swallowed his doubts and began,

“Yes,” he nodded his head vigorously, eyes closing just for a millisecond, “I…” His gaze finally locked with yours, “I want to fuck you.”

Damn, the words sounded so incredibly, completely filthy dripping from Spencer’s innocent lips and you wanted to lick up every drop. Your pussy reactively clenched around nothing, and you wanted to surge forwards and push your mouth onto his in a hot kiss- half what Spencer himself expected (and wanted) you to do- but you controlled yourself. Instead, you remained calm, sliding off your desk and toeing your kitten heels back on your feet all while maintaining eye-contact with Spencer. You prowled towards him. His saliva hitched in his throat, heart skipped a beat, breathing quickened. He remained still while you leaned down towards him. Your minty breath fanned over his face, and Spencer wished you would just kiss him already. Of course, you knew that was what he wanted and so you wouldn’t let him have it just now. He watched your face as you brought your hand to his jaw. Your thumb dragged across his bottom lip and down, moving to pull the tie out of his sweater vest. You used it to pull Spencer closer to you, his chin tilted up, reaching out to connect your lips. Just as they were about to touch…you stopped. “Come here,” was all you whispered. And in a flash, you were standing straight up, using the tie to move him up with you. Backwards you walked, returning to your original position on the small desk. As you scooted up a bit, disregarding the important papers you were most definitely damaging, you hiked up your dress to allow your legs to fall open. Spencer moved to stand in between them, but much to his dismay you were too far on the desk for him to be able to feel the warmth radiate from your core. Obviously, that was done on purpose. 

Spencer knew he shouldn’t touch you yet, so he rested his hands on the desk close to your hips, only using the tips of his thumbs to brush back and forth between the lace of your stockings and the skin of your thighs. Good boy, you thought, but kept it to yourself. You slowly, yet deftly unbuttoned the cuffs and folded up the sleeves of his shirt, licking your lips at the sight of his hairy and veiny bare arms. You brought them each up to place a light kiss on the inside of his wrists, shifting up the watch on his left, before returning them to their original position. Spencer watched with bated breath and a parted mouth as you then began to seductively undo the top few buttons of your dress, pushing the fabric to the sides to allow Spencer to gaze down at the cleavage hardly contained by your lacy, deep green bra. (It didn’t escape him that they matched your heels). This enticed a moan from the disheveled man. He threw his head back, looking up at the bright ceiling lights in an attempt to grab his bearings, “You’re going to kill me.” he whispered. 

You held his face in both your hands, pulling it down to look at you again, ���Good.” you whispered back in delight. Fingers traveled to the back of his neck, playing with and tugging at the ends of his hair for a minute before moving to push the dark gray woolen blazer off his shoulders where they then replaced the material with massages. Spencer's eyes shut at the pressures of your ministrations, forehead dropping to rest against your own as a feeling of peace and warmth flooded his veins. He almost forgot how horny he was- almost. He whined at the lost palpations as your hands changed course to loosen his tie. You left it on, opting to unbutton the top of his button-up. Your fingernails scratched at the exposed skin at the base of his neck and top of his hair-sprinkled chest before they danced up to trace his Adam’s apple. 

“I want you.” Spencer moaned.

“I know, baby.” you held his face between your hands again, firmly so he couldn’t move, “I want you, too,” Your face inched closer to his at a worm’s pace, and all Spencer could do was watch in impatient anticipation. “You’re just so fun to play with.” You nudged your nose against his, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his lips. 

“More, please.” He groaned, head straining against your grasp, his eyelids falling shut. 

You giggled sweetly, “Just a bit more, since you asked so nicely,” and you began to press more light kisses where you wanted to- on his top lip, the corners of his mouth, the little dip of his chin, his cupid’s bow, and finally the tip of his nose- your own lightly knocking against his with each proximal peck. Spencer sighed as you leaned away from him. 

“Please,” he breathed out. Spencer leaned into your right palm, eyelids opening to reveal a contented, dazed look.

“You said you wanted me to touch you, didn’t you, baby?” your hands started to move, down the front of his chest to creep under the hem of his dark blue sweater vest.

“Mhm…” he nodded excitedly, a content sigh leaving his nose. You pulled the light-blue button-up out of his trouser, the feeling of your cool hands splaying against the warm, bare skin of his lower abdomen had Spencer reeling. You dug the tips of your fingers down a path along his hidden abs and happy trail before curling them around to his lower back where you scratched long horizontal lines. You loved touching him, just feeling his skin. But, Spencer wasn’t the only one losing a little bit of patience. 

The sound of his belt buckle clinking undone caused his stomach to somersault. You roughly undid the button and zipper of his trousers before pushing them down just enough to grant you access to what you wanted. Spencer’s forehead thumped lightly against yours, finding its favorite spot again- well, second-favorite if we’re being honest. His breath quickened. You weren’t done teasing yet, though. Peering down, the outline of his hard cock straining against his boxer-briefs, a wet spot accumulating in the gray cotton, sent a jolt to your gut.

“Look at you,” your head tilted up, “so hard for me,” you whispered against his lips. Fingers snapped the waistband of his underwear against his stomach. “What a good boy.” Spencer’s brows furrowed against yours, prompting you to plant a kiss between them, leaving your lips there for a second while you dragged a single deep-brown-polished nail up the length of his covered hard-on.

He whined out your name, his voice hiccupping, “Please, please. Touch me.” The sound of paper crushing told you his hands still sitting by your sides were crumpling the files on the table. Spencer tried so hard not to move his hips, fearing you would stop everything. He resided to fist his hands and nudge his head against yours instead.

“Where?” Could you be any more cruel? Spencer groaned in frustration. Yes, you definitely could. He shouldn’t fight it.

“Please! My-my c-cock.” He swallowed hard to stop his stuttering. “Please touch my cock!” More sounds of paper rustling.

You giggled at his desperation, “Oh, honey, you’re so filthy.” Though, if you were being honest, you were just about getting there, too. Your swollen clit was pulsing in excitement, thin underwear increasingly dampening in your slick. If Spencer wasn’t standing between your legs, you’d be pressing your thighs together in an attempt to get yourself off. “If that’s what my baby wants...”

Finally, your right hand descended into his boxer-briefs, quickly using his ample precum to coat your palm before wrapping your fingers around his length. You gave him a good squeeze, prompted by the deep moan he let out, and started to jack him off. 

“Oh, my god.” Spencer groaned, head dropping down to your shoulders. His hands flew up to tightly grip the fat of your hips. His hair tickled your ears, hot breath summoned goosebumps across your chest. 

You hummed in response, hooking your heels around the back of his calves as you continued pumping. Your other hand moved to cup and press into his balls through his underwear. 

“A-ah!” he tensed up a bit. Spencer’s balls were always a very sensitive spot, almost as if he was biologically wired to be afraid of any touch there. It was your favorite thing to do though- especially wrapping your lips around them.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whispered in his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, “I’ve gotchu. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Your coos against his cheek immediately soothed the tension in his back and you could feel it radiate off of him in waves. 

“Yesss,” He mumbled through a groan, pushing his face into the side of your neck and moving his grip up to your waist, “So good.” He let his hips move now, and so did you. He lightly thrusted up into your fist as much as he could with what little leverage his narrow stance afforded him. 

You swiped a thumb over the head of his cock and lightly squeezed his engorged balls, causing him to gasp as his hips involuntarily bucked up. You felt his blazen, wet mouth drop open against your skin. Your hand turned and pushed, twisted and pulled, squeezed and tugged, Spencer’s moans growing louder and louder in your ear. Your eyes remained shut, relishing in the sounds he was making and the feeling of his burning skin against yours. Now, it was your turn to want more.

Suddenly, your hands left his dick. Before he could complain, you pushed his briefs down to fully expose him to the crisp air and pulled yourself closer to him in one motion, ignoring the crinkling of paper beneath you. He could feel the heat of your clothed core press up against his impossibly hard dick, causing the both of you to moan in unison. You rested your hands back on the desk and leaned away. 

“Touch me, baby.” you breathed out. 

Fuck, yes. Spencer thought as his hands surged forward, quickly undoing the last few buttons of your dress before roughly pushing the barrier open, fully exposing your cleavage. With a groan, his fingers pulled down the cups of your intricately designed bra to expose your perky nipples and his mouth immediately descended on them. Your head rolled back. The gasps and moans he was finally able to pluck from your throat were like music to Spencer’s ears. He sucked, nibbled, licked one areola while he pinched, twirled, and rubbed the other. His thumb rolled over the peak of your left nipple, pressing and dragging into the miniscule dip just how you liked it, causing the pit of your stomach to drop and your body to squirm. “Shit!” you hissed out, head snapping up to get a look at him. Spencer looked up at you in response, his eyes glinting with ferocity. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dug into your side, holding your body up to him. One of your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands to make him moan around your nipple, the other gripped at the knitted fabric on his back. He continued moving from breast to breast, catching his breath only for half-a-second while he pawed at them before latching onto the next. Your squirming movements increased, moans becoming more high-pitched as your hands pulled at his hair in an effort to get his head off of you. It signaled to Spencer: you were becoming overstimulated. His mouth pulled off of you with a pop! and you gasped in response. 

He let you catch your breath for a moment, watching the rapid rise and fall of your tits while you watched his face through smiling eyes. The corners of his mouth were slightly wet, lips swollen from all the sucking, hair incredibly disheveled from your man-handling. You couldn't help but bite your lip and hum. So pretty. Just as you were about to speak, Spencer leaned down again and began kissing all over your chest and neck. His big, warm hands moved from your ribs to splay over your back, still holding you up to hover over the desk- one in the middle, the other between your scapulae. Your own moved to wrap around his shoulders. He pressed sloppy, damp kisses along the tops of your breast and over your collar bones before moving to the column of your throat. His lips dragged to each side, stopping to nip and suck here and there. Even in his fevered motions, he remained careful not to leave visible hickies, no matter how badly he wanted to fixate on a single place. Once he was thoroughly satisfied in covering your entire neck with kisses, he focused on the sweet spot on the right side, exactly where your pulsepoint was. “Oh Spencer,” the honeyed words caused him to groan, egging him on even more. Your fingers dug into the back of Spencer's own neck, legs wrapped around his ass, bringing him further into you. One particular suck and bite had you twitch your hips up, successfully rubbing your pussy against Spencer’s poor, neglected cock. This spurred him on. He was doing so well, using all his willpower to focus on pleasing you. To be a good boy for you and not rut his throbbing, leaking dick against your hot, wet cunt, but you finally did it yourself- you started it- which meant Spencer could now lose himself in his desires. The pressure had him nuzzling his face into your neck once again, lips open to breathe heavily against your warm skin.

One of his hands left the middle of your back to travel down your body, moving to grip your thigh and pull you to wrap your legs tightly around his waist while his legs spread further apart. The heightened angle and gained leverage allowed Spencer's cock to drag up and down the entirety of your cunt with greater pressure, drawing out even more noises from the both of you. 

“Oh my fucking God, Spence. Feels so good..” your choked out words caused him to dig his nails into your skin. You’d definitely be greeted with little crescent shapes tomorrow morning. You leaned your head against his, hands flying to grab onto wherever you could- tangling in his hair, bunching up in the shirt of his broad shoulders, scratching against his neck. 

The pleasure seeped into every crevice of Spencer’s brain, consuming any thoughts that didn’t revolve around you. He held onto you as if letting you go meant sending the world into ragnarok. “God, I..” he mumbled, shifting his grasp on your thigh to firmly cup your head in his palm. He couldn’t stop rutting into you, hunched over your body like a crazed animal, even though it was impeding his ability to speak. He licked his lips, readying to speak.

“I wanna fuck you so badly, baby.” 

The intensity of his words, his piercing gaze, and the particularly long and deep drag of his bare cock against your dressed clit practically had you cumming. Your head rolled to hang back in the air, almost hitting the desk if it weren’t for Spencer's other hand on your neck holding it up, thumb draped lightly over your jugular. Your eyes tightly screwed, bottom lip pulled in by your teeth in a sorry attempt to heed the salacious noises leaving your mouth. The light feeling of your pussy fluttering almost had Spencer pulling your barely-there panties to the side and shoving his cock into you. 

The man should be lauded and awarded for his self-control, but the need to please you triumphed over every biological impulse or desire Spencer would ever feel. He knew what you wanted. He knew your favorite part about teasing him- playing with him, stringing him up- was the burning, fervent, feral kiss it resulted in. Even though it used all his willpower he stopped his thrusting, pulling a drawn-out whine from the back of your throat. “Nooo,” you huffed and pouted. 

With force, Spencer yanked your head up to bring your eyes back to his level. He stared into your wide, surprised eyes for a moment, breathing fast and hard before he pulled you forward. Your lips met in an impassioned embrace, hot and heavy. Greedy mouths wide as if to gorge on each other’s impurities. Both of Spencer’s hands grasped your head, fingers digging into the back of your scalp, almost pulling at strands of your hair. Yours rounded his torso, pulling him as close to you as possible. The feverish kiss was messy, loud, and erotic. Tongues wrestled, teeth clashed, noses collided. The taste of Spencer’s saliva was addictive, your mouth pushed into his to gain as much of it as it could. You swallowed his moans, he happily lapped up yours. The motions of your hips started up again, adding to the delectability. 

Spencer tried to pull away from you, but you wouldn’t have any of it. You locked your ankles around his waist and bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep his swollen mouth of yours. He rested his forehead against yours again, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. The feeling of your panties rubbing against your clit was almost becoming too much. 

“Please,” he breathed, “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you.” 

“We c-can’t,” it was your turn to stutter, too overcome with desire to be cocky anymore, “they’ll hear us, we’ll…we’ll get in trouble.” Moans cut into your words. What utter bullshit. The sounds of your debauchery filled every corner of Spencer’s modest hotel room and both of you knew in the back of your fucked-out brains that it was all already dancing down the hallway for everyone to hear. The continuous crumpling of papers; occasional thwap of files hitting the carpeted floor; the consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of the wooden desk beating against the wall; the sharp sound of your kitten heels wrestling with one another around Spencer’s waist; and, of course, the melodiously lewd octaves crawling up from each of your vocal chords.

He hated that answer. You swear you heard Spencer growl as he adjusted to roughly throw each of your legs over his shoulders, always keeping one hand behind your head, before bending over you once again. Your hands flew down to hopelessly grasp at the papers under you. He loved bringing out that surprised look on your face.

“A-ah, Spencer!” The new angle was intoxicating. Every single sensation was overwhelming your senses. The pinches of your dress still bunched up around your upper thighs and creasing in your elbows. The fabric of his vest was rubbing against your hardened and sensitive nipples. Spencer's right hand rested on the base of your throat while the other twisted in your hair. The back of your thighs and calves stretched at the unwarranted position. The smell of musk and sweat proliferated the air around you two. The friction of his stubbled balls chafed your reddening ass. Your bra cups and wire dug into your ribs, the thick belt of your dress pressing your stomach. And of course, the heavenly feeling of his burning, heavy cock rutting against your core. “I think I’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish your exclamation, voice cut off by a sharp gasp of pleasure. No, you weren’t, not yet. You wanted more, too.

Spencer was emboldened by the mixture of oxytocin and endorphins rushing through his veins and the entirety of you engulfing his senses. He gripped your hair tighter as his confidence grew and pushed his forehead harder against yours to look deep into your watering eyes, “I need to feel your tight pussy, baby.” His voice was quiet, yet stern and full- no hint of hesitation or embarrassment. No stuttering or stammering. Your head reeled. 

“Fuck me, please!” was all you could say before reaching down and hurriedly grabbing your panties, clumsily pulling them to the side- no toying, no dirty talk, no teasing. Spencer took the cue, using the hand on your throat to instead guide his dick into your entrance. 

Finally, he thought while he pushed into you as he straightened up a bit, letting out a guttural groan. The beautiful tone of your sigh tickled his ears. Your pussy was so wet, and in turn so was his cock. You sucked in the entirety of his length with little problem. The thick, pudgy walls of your cunt enveloped Spencer’s dick deliciously, warmth causing his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. He still held up your head, but his right hand moved down the outside of your thigh, fisting the lacy tops of your tights with a moan of your name

“Ah! You’re so big, honey.” You groaned in response, hands grabbing onto each of his wrists. It’s true, he was. Not the biggest cock in the world, but he stretched you out so incredibly every time. The perfect size.

You were so close to orgasming- you knew with just a few little movements you’d be pushed over the finish line. Nothing had to be said, though, Spencer was fully aware, but he wanted to savor this a bit more; give you a taste of your own medicine, if you will. He leaned in, pulling your head closer to his to envelope your lips with his again. Your legs sandwiched in between your torsos burned at the stretch, but you paid it no mind. 

“Please,” you begged shamelessly against his bottom lip. Spencer let out a small, breathy laugh, pushing your messed up hair out of your face. He pulled away from you to stand up straight, not without gaining a whine in response. You tried to keep your head up to watch him better, but you were losing your strength. With a light thud, you let your head fall against the wooden surface, the wall pressing against the top of your hair. He still wasn’t moving yet, and your orgasm ebbed slightly away. Spencer rubbed his big hands up and down the legs resting on his shoulders, massaging and kissing them wherever he felt like it. He took in the sight of you squirming and whining below him, fingers grasping at any of the random papers left on the desk they could reach, chest heaving. Your pearled nipples stood at attention, compelling him to ghost his fingers over them. He was barely touching you, but the moans and sighs would not stop leaving your throat. With a last kiss to your right calf, Spencer spread your legs open, toes of your kitten heels pointed out towards either side of the room. You watched him through hooded eyelids, hands going to support your legs for him. He tickled his nails deeply up the insides of your thighs, the light pain had you squirming and gasping even more which doubled as your movements had you shifting on Spencer’s cock. It felt so good, but the doctor held his own noises in, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You said,” you pouted breathlessly, “you wanted to fuck me. Hurry, hurry!” You need to cum so badly.

“Isn’t so fun on the other side, is it?” his mischievous smirk mocked you. It was a lie, it was most definitely fun on the receiving end, but it was even more so on this one. His right hand slid up to cup your chin, thumb pressing onto your lips mirroring your earlier actions, “So desperate,” he murmured, hands moving to grab onto your waist. You huffed and shut your eyes, head rolling to the side. You tried to just focus on Spencer’s touch and feel, but he stopped further motions.

You were so beautiful; in every moment of your lives, but especially like this. Spencer paused for a minute, eyes boring into every centimeter of your figure to burn the image of you into his brain. Your hair splayed over the desk, reminiscent of an angel’s halo; eyes screwed shut with smeared mascara at the corners; glossed lips parted in desire. Oh, how delicious they’d look wrapped around his dick. Your inviting, stocking-clad legs held open just for him, manicured fingers digging into the back of your knees. Spencer’s cock excitedly twitched inside of you once his gaze reached your glistening, swollen pussy, the puffy lips gripping the base of him. His hands wrapped around your own, gripping tight, using them and your legs for balance as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. He was mesmerized, it was a sight he’d seen many times before and was sure to see much more of in the future, but it hypnotized him anyway. He watched as your pussy clenched around him in a failed attempt to keep him in or pull him back, but Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen just yet. His tip pulled out just a bit further before pushing back in a centimeter, repeating the sequence a few more times, playing with your gaping slit. You tried to suck his cock back into you, but Spencer resisted. One more motion and the head of his dick popped out of your clutches with an audible squelch. He reached down this time, grabbing and rubbing his length against your cunt- side to side, up and down. Moans and expletives repeatedly left your mouth, but Spencer continued with a drunken smile on his lips. He slapped the head of his cock against your clit, causing you to twitch and yelp. He loved the reaction, prompting a couple more hits with the same response.

“Spencie…” you whined, ungraciously curling your hips up to gain more friction.

He was about to give in, but there was one other part of you he needed to see. With a single motion, he gripped the outside of your thighs and pulled your body further down the desk, dick sliding against your clit. 

“Oh, shit!” you let out, your head craning to look up at him. 

Spencer roughly pawed at your dress. He first pulled at the top, but it wouldn’t open up more to give him what he wanted, the belt positioned in the way. He moved on, pushing the skirt even high up, bunching it around your waist. He sighed in delight. The delicate filigree of your black garter belt laying right below your belly button stared up at him seductively, begging him to touch her. Spencer’s hands had a mind of their own as they palmed over the fabric, fingers moving over and under the top band to snap it against your skin- just like you did to him. The sound wasn’t as sharp, nevertheless it brought him pleasure. You mewed, lips curled up in a satisfied smile. Internally, you chuckled. You knew he loved the silly little piece of lingerie. 

It was the last piece of the puzzle, the final key to the terminal level. Spencer grabbed two fistfuls of the garter belt and the bunched fabric of your neglected, cooling underwear and, without warning, swiftly pulled you completely onto his cock. You both yelled as he bottomed out, your eyes blowing wide open and jaw dropping slack open. 

“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Spencer breathed out. The look on your face egged him on. He pulled his cock fully out of you before using your clothing to slam you down onto him again. He stilled for just a second, catching his breath and steadying himself. Before you could utter a single syllable, he began fucking you like there was no tomorrow. 

The initial burn faded into sweet bliss. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around Spencer’s dick and he thrusted into you fast and deep. The bruising feeling of his tip pounding into your cervix gave way to a more intense sensation, your orgasm bubbling back up inside. His powerful motions caused your arms to fly up and Spencer deliriously watched your mouth-watering tits bounce up, down, up, down. Your hands pushed against the wall, trying to prevent your head from hitting it. Although at first you both tried to halter your noises, it proved fruitless. Inattentively, you let your moans and gasps and grunts stretch out to be as loud as they so pleased. The pleasure was so overwhelming, but the desire to watch Spencer fuck you was stronger. His hair flopped around at the sides, the strands at his hairline pasted to his forehead with sweat. He looked utterly pornographic, clothes still on but extremely tousled and uncentered. Sleeves pushed up, collar spread open, tie unevenly loose. His belt buckle clanged against itself, hanging from the trousers still draped around his mid-thighs. You removed one of your hands from the wall, pushing up the front of his body as much as you could, instead. You moved the bottom of his shirt and sweater vest to claw at his abdomen, focusing on the happy trail you loved to lick up. 

Spencer felt the same way as you. He fought to keep his eyes open, gaze flitting all over your body and face instead. You were intoxicating. When your own wandering eyes met his as your hand came down to his lower stomach, he let out a particularly loud moan, pounding into your even harder. The intensity had you latching onto his wrist. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel better, Spencer moved his thumbs down to your cunt, pushing your swollen pussy lips together around his moving cock before shifting them to press against your clit. 

“Holy fuck!” You let out, eyes screwing shut as your other hand left the wall to desperately match your existing hold on Spencer’s wrist. He rubbed in circles with one thumb as best he could, the other pressing into your fatty labia where he knew you had a sensitive spot. You began squirming, nails digging into Spencer’s skin, and you couldn’t even begin to care about your head lightly hitting the wall. “Spencer! I’m gonna come!” 

Spencer rubbed just a bit harder into your clit, earning an enthusiastic, “Just like that!” as your eyes rolled back into your head. He groaned at this, feeling your walls close around his dick. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he huffed, maintaining his pace and pressure, “come for me, angel.”  

Your core tightened up, and with just a few more thrusts your orgasm came crashing down on you. Waves of blinding white light washed over your body as you gushed around Spencer’s cock with a call of his name. The gripping and flitting of your pussy had Spencer groaning and he quickly shifted his arms, letting go of his hold on your garter belt and underwear to hold on to your waist, your limping legs hooking over his elbows. He didn’t let up his thrusts, chasing the orgasm of his own he was so close to reaching. He pushed the impending feeling down, not wanting to give up the sanctity of your hot cunt just yet, but he couldn’t stop his hips. 

As your orgasm began to subside and overstimulation prickled along your nerves, you tried to clench your legs closed, but Spencer wasn’t having any of it. He bent over you to push your legs open and press his forehead back onto yours. “Spencer!” you gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed and frantic. Your hands gripped his flexing forearms, “It’s too much!”

“You’re gonna take it,” he grunted out, fingers digging into the fat of your sides. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard for a second, his thrusts beginning to show signs of faltering. You felt so fucking good he almost wished he didn’t ever have to come, that he could fuck you through orgasm after orgasm without stopping. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, babbling incoherently in agreement through frenzied moans.

“So you’re gonna take it just like this,” he gulped, pushing down a groan at your clenching pussy, “and I’m gonna fucking come inside of you.” His last words came out in a growl, drawing out longer moans from you as his thrusts started to include sloppier grinds. 

Spencer's pelvis grounded into your clit, his balls continued to slap against your ass, his erotic words mushed your brain, and soon the overstimulation pulling tears from your eyes turned into ecstasy and you neared a second orgasm. A strewn out, deep “Fuckk,” crawled from Spencer’s throat as your cunt squeezed him in quick succession, followed by your name being whispered and moaned repeatedly like a mantra.

You wanted to come again at the same time as him, and you were right at the edge, just as you knew he was, so you pushed him further to the precipice, “Spencer,” you pleaded breathlessly, “come on, baby.” You rested your hand on his cheek, urging him to open his eyes and look at you. “Fill me up.”

He groaned in response, head dropping down to press against the top of your breasts. A couple more sloppy, hard thrusts and he started “I’m gonna-”

But just before he could finish, you were jolted into stillness by a deafened boom, boom, boom. What the hell?

Someone was at the door.

You let out a yelp, Spencer’s hand immediately flew up to slap against your mouth. 

“Reid? What’s going on in there?” You heard from the other side of the door. It was fucking Rossi. 

Author's Note: muahaha >:D idk why but this is just how i imagined this piece ending. hope you guys liked ittttt, if you're reading this thanks for sticking to it. should i write a pt.2? i def already know how i'd continue (tho not smutty). did not think smut would be the first spencer fanfic i'd post. thinking of writing a follow up where spencer finally gets his release teehee. i'd love feedback and comments, pls! ty lovelies <3

[kusanagihaku]

and i will hold onto you

⭢ haku x mc, 9.6k

n is for new year's day. ˖⁺‧₊⟡ alphabet series | ao3 thinking always about this headcanon; also i know graduation is usually in march but like, artistic license, haha…?

The cheers in Tokyo Dome are deafening. 

You watch as families stream down from the corners of the dome to the field, swarming their loved ones in congratulations as graduation caps are knocked to the floor with the force of their hugs. 

There is a vague current of wistfulness in the air, amidst the celebratory cheers, as is common in most graduation ceremonies. As you stand alone looking around at all the families, you wonder how much of that wistfulness is your own. 

It’s been a little over three years, after all, since you’ve entered Darkwick. Three years since the curse was placed on you and consequently broken, three years since you’ve last seen any of your family. Three years since you’ve found a new one, strange as they are, and two years since they’ve left you, one by one, to take on the world outside Darkwick. 

And now it is your turn to leave. 

“Honour roll,” comes a familiar voice, from behind you, and you turn, hand on your cap, to see Leo’s smirk and the camera in his hand. 

Despite yourself, you laugh. “Leo.”

His smirk melts into something gentle, genuine. “Congratulations. Really. You’re free from this hellhole, once and for all.” 

You dip your head at the Vagastrom captain, “Can’t wait for it to be your turn.”  

“One year to go, then,” Sho says, appearing behind Leo. He grins, waving a sunflower stalk at you. “One year without our precious senpai coming to bother Vagastrom.” 

“You better appreciate that one year.” 

“You bet we will,” Leo says, without any real heat, and you share a laugh as Sho presses the sunflower into your hands. 

Its stem is wrapped with a stiff yellow ribbon printed with the name of their house. You rub it between your fingers. “Which poor first year did you torture into doing this for you?”

Leo shrugs. “Bunch of ‘em. Said it was for the seniors, and they jumped at the chance.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, unconvinced, but before you can probe further Sho’s eyes flicker somewhere behind you. 

A smile unfurls across his face, large and mischievous, and he bobs his chin to your left. “Someone’s waiting for you.”  

You turn around, eyebrows furrowed – who is there left in this school who would look for you, Ritsu, Ren? – but then you see him. 

He’s holding a small bouquet of sunflowers and white roses, laced with baby’s breath and bells of Ireland. There are whispers from some of the students around you, a gasp of recognition from a Hotarubi student or two as he steps forward. The purple Darkwick tie, never once worn when he was still a student, is loosely tied around his collar, slanting slightly to the right like he has tugged on it more than once under the dark grey suit he has chosen for the occasion. 

You don’t notice the pinpricks in the corner of your eyes until he blurs into a mess of green and white and grey. “Oh,” you gasp, and he is there instantly, fingers brushing traitorous tears from your cheeks. 

He laughs, palm still cradling your cheek, and even though you knew he was coming, the aw-shucks grin he gives you still puts an all-familiar lump in your throat. 

“Congratulations, princess,” Haku says, soft and warm. “Well done.” 

-

December 29 - Darkwick Academy  Distance left to destination: 464km 

It is eight thirty-four in the morning. 

Haku stands, hands on his hips, in the middle of your dorm room. There are two duffle bags by his feet.

For what amounts to two years of living in the cathedral, you have fairly little belongings. 

You’ve given most of your items away, of course, in preparation for your move cross-country. All that are left are your clothes, stuffed neatly into a nearly-bursting medium-sized suitcase waiting by the door, and the gifts from various ghouls you’ve accumulated over the years. 

“Ready?” Haku asks. He gathers both duffle bags in one hand. In one of them is a notebook, given to you by Zenji before he, too, left. 

You turn to survey the bare room. You wonder, for a moment, who the next person to inhabit the room will be like - what they will be cursed with - before you turn back to face Haku. 

He is glowing, almost, in the morning light. His grey Hotarubi sweatshirt is rumpled, sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and creased slightly where his overnight backpack is hung on his left shoulder. He looks at you, head cocked to one side, fond, sleep lines from where he slept on your pull-out sofa the night before etched into the soft of his cheek. 

If you haven’t already been planning this road trip for the past two months over text you’d think he came straight out of a dream. 

“Ready,” you say. You pick up your winter coat and his, and sling your backpack over your shoulder. The bouquet he gave you the previous day peeks out from the top. 

Haku nods. He holds the door open for you as you wheel your suitcase over the threshold of the room. The door clicks closed behind the both of you. 

He takes the suitcase from you, then, carrying it easily in one hand down the rickety old staircase. The third step from the bottom creaks beneath his weight like you knew it would. 

It creaks beneath your weight, too. You fish the key to the cathedral door out of your pocket as you reach the first floor. You leave it on the side table leading into the kitchen – the worker cats will retrieve it later today – and head towards the front door. 

You expect something to change, then, some shift in the air that tells you your time in Darkwick is over, but nothing happens as you emerge out into the watery grey sunlight. You wonder why you expected it to. 

Haku’s car is parked, slanted, on the driveway outside the cathedral. The bright yellow permission slip you obtained from Professor Hyde the week before for Haku flaps flimsily in the wind, held back by the wiper on his windshield. 

He unlocks the car, loads your belongings into the trunk. The wind brushes his bangs away from his face. 

It is eight forty-three in the morning. He looks at you, again, patient, understanding, like he always does. 

You exhale. You look back at the cathedral, one last time. 

Then you walk over to where Haku whisks you away from Darkwick, as swiftly and as kindly as he did whisking you in. 

-

December 29 - Hakone, Kanagawa  Distance left to destination: 365km 

It starts snowing a little before Haku pulls into the parking lot. 

Being in Darkwick for most of the year means you’ve forgotten what the weather outside is like, sometimes. The powdery snowfall encases the both of you in silence as you shake out your winter coats and trudge up the stone steps, bowing your heads as you pass under the red torii. 

The shrine is deserted. Whether it is because of the snow or the time of year you’re not really sure; after all, why come out to a shrine a few days before the end of the year when you’re going to visit again on the first day of the new year? 

But it is peaceful and quiet, something you have no complaints about, and before long you’ve made your way up the long stairs and are standing in front of the main hall, heads bowed in respect. 

This is the reason why Haku suggested a road trip instead of taking the Shinkansen down to Kyoto – to bring you to all his favourite shrines around the country on the way down. Your stops, carefully mapped out over Wickchat and Google Maps, are few but meaningful to him, planned out so that you’ll move into your new apartment before Subaru’s first performance of the year at Minamiza Theatre. 

Haku hasn’t told you the reason for any of the stops, but you can more or less guess his reason for this one; as you descend a different set of stone steps, a tall red torii comes into view, half-submerged in water. Snow drifts into the darkness swirling around the feet of the gates, blurring into the red paint before disappearing on contact with the lake. What lies beyond the gate has been shrouded in mist, a white haze obscured by the oncoming snow. 

It looks like some path to the afterlife, almost. Maybe some sort of adventure into the unknown. God knows you’ve had enough adventures to last a lifetime, though. 

You hear Haku exhale. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nod. Perhaps it looks like something out of a myth. 

He points, off to the side, at a strangely shaped rock a distance away from the main path. “Remember when you asked about the scar on my knee? Scraped it right there, running away from my grandfather.” 

You huff a laugh at the image of a little Haku, eyes alight with mischief, dancing out of the grasp of adults. “Didn’t manage to run too far, I guess?”

Haku laughs. He retracts his pointer to rub at his ear. “Not at all. Cried all the way back to the shrine before they bandaged me up.” 

You stuff your hands deeper into the pockets of your coat so you will not reach for where his fingertips are turning red with the cold. 

“I haven’t been back here in a while,” Haku continues, softer. His eyes are fixed on somewhere beyond the gates. “Not since he passed away.” 

You watch as his breath clouds in the cold air. You stay silent. 

He glances at you, eventually, small smile tugging on his lips and blinking the snowflakes out of his eyes. “Let’s go?”

After a second of thought you take your hand out of your pocket to loop your arm through his. You feel him shift in surprise, before he presses himself against your warmth. “Yeah.” 

-

December 29 - Shimizu, Shizuoka Distance left to destination: 295km 

It stops snowing a little after Haku pulls out of the parking lot. 

The rest of the car ride to your next stop is filled with idle chatter and green grape gummies that you picked up from the general store on your way out of Darkwick. Haku keeps his eyes on the lightly frosted road as you feed him, lips barely brushing your pointer and your thumb. You keep your eyes on him. 

You just finish telling him about a mission you did with Ritsu before he slows down, turning off the highway into Shimizu. 

“We stopping for lunch?” You seal the pack of gummies. 

He hums. “Sort of. There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

You wince, and finger-comb through your hair. “I’m dressed for a car ride, not for meeting people.” 

Haku sneaks a glance at you. “You’re beautiful, princess, don’t worry.” 

You flush. “That- you-“ 

He laughs, light and warm, as he makes a right turn. “Just as easy to tease, after all this time.” 

“Shut up,” you say, but his offhand compliment has already burrowed its way under your cheeks and heated them up the same way they always did back at Darkwick. Damn him and his smooth tongue. 

You watch as the train stations flash by – Sakurabashi, Kitsunegasaki, Mikadodai – before he slows down next to Kusanagi Station. You glance at him in surprise. Are you heading to the Kusanagi shrine?

Before you can ask, however, he stops next to a nondescript beige building, throwing the car into park. 

“We’re here,” he announces, and laughs again when you peek doubtfully at your reflection in the side-view mirror. “You look fine.” 

He reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

If his fingers linger longer than they should on the shell of your ear, you pretend you do not notice. You pretend your ears do not blush, pretend your breath does not catch. 

You exit the car. 

There is an old, stooped lady by the restaurant counter when Haku slides the rickety wooden door open, back turned to you as she mops down a wooden table with a bright yellow cloth. All you can see is the checkered bandana resting atop a mop of curly white hair, and a faded red apron sash around her waist, wrapped tight around a stout figure. 

“Miyami-san?” Haku calls out. His voice is soft, reverent. 

“Ah?” There is obvious shock as she turns around. A startled delight washes over her face the moment her eyes alight on Haku, and she hobbles over immediately, hands outstretched and eyes waned into teary crescents. 

“Haku, my dear boy,” she cries. She reaches forward to clasp his hands in her own, wrinkled and gentle. “My, my, you’ve grown taller, haven’t you?”

Haku half-laughs. “I haven’t grown since I last came back.” 

The old lady laughs, too. “Perhaps it’s me who has grown smaller. And who’s this?”

“A friend, from Darkwick. I told you about her over the phone, remember?” Haku’s hand is warm on your elbow through your coat. 

The old lady turns to you, peering kindly. “Yes, I do remember…”

You wonder briefly what Haku has said about you, but under the scrutiny of the old lady you hurriedly introduce yourself, bowing. 

She claps, delightedly. “You both must be hungry, coming down from your school. I’ll whip something up for you real quick, shall I?”

“Anything you make will be delicious,” Haku intones, and he shoots her a charming smile that would have turned half of Hotarubi silly. 

It works on her as well, evidently, as she pats his cheek and makes her way to the back of the room. 

“I used to come here all the time to hang out with her grandkids,” Haku says, removing his coat. His eyes follow her as she disappears into the kitchen, humming brightly. “They moved away when I was fifteen, though, but I just… kept coming. She’s more like a grandmother to me than my own grandma.” 

He sweeps his fringe behind his ear, and rolls up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. His earrings brush the line of his jaw. “I stay here, sometimes, when I don’t want to go back to my family.” 

You blink, looking around the restaurant. There are wooden panels lining the room, black ink on rectangle blocks to indicate the menu, but little else by way of decoration. “Here?” 

Haku chuckles. He points to an entrance hidden by an egg-white curtain, tucked quietly into a corner by the back. “She has guest rooms, upstairs. She usually lets them out, but there tends to be no guests, at this time of year.” 

You both agree on taking your overnight bags out from the car while Miyami-san is cooking, if only to save time. Haku stands, as if to help you, but you swat his hand. “Stay here. If she comes out and finds us both missing, how will that look?”

Haku just laughs, sitting back down in acquiescence, and looks up at you, chin in hand. He looks adorable, like this, adoring, and you are suddenly filled with a desperate wish that you could capture this image, forever. “Like we ran off like a couple of hormonal teenagers?”

You flush, and leave him without a response. 

It doesn’t take long for you to gather his backpack and your duffel bag from the car, and as you slide the wooden door closed and toe off your shoes you hear murmuring voices low enough to make you still before the entrance curtain. 

“Are you going to show her the shrine, then?” 

A pause. “They’re going to be too busy preparing things for the New Year’s ceremony.” 

She hums. “That’s true.” 

“Miyami-san–” Haku starts, but she hushes him. 

“I know, I know,” she says. “I won’t tell them you stopped by.” 

Haku laughs, then, something soft and young and grateful. “Thank you. As always.” 

There is a beat of silence, and you prepare to move, but her voice sounds again. “Who is she, to you?”

You hear the grin in Haku’s voice. “Why?”

“You know… you’re of age… it’s about time you bring someone home for me to meet.”

There is a rustle as Haku shifts around in his chair. “She’s one of the strongest people I know,” he says, slowly, “but she hasn’t had much control over her past few years. Now that she’s free of all that, I’d like to leave as much up to her as possible.” 

You tense. Your heart hammers in your chest, tight and painful, as his words trip over themselves, over and over in your brain. Does he mean–

“–she’s also listening around the corner, so I refuse to say anymore.”

You don’t think your cheeks have experienced this much blood-rush in a while. You poke your head out from behind the curtain. “How did you know!” 

“The door isn’t exactly silent,” Haku points out, and the three of you dissolve into laughter. 

There is something light and warm, there, born in the small of the room. It expands, a golden sort of feeling that stretches beyond the four wooden walls and settles, stardust-like, in the space between Haku’s hands and yours; it collapses, cools under your tongue into a memory bright and sweet and precious. 

If you don’t give it a name, you think, perhaps you can continue pretending that being by Haku’s side does not feel like home. 

-

December 30 - Shimizu, Shizuoka Distance left to destination: 295km 

There is a saying – what is a handspan away feels most like a world apart. 

Haku sits, two handspans away. He is looking up at the ceiling, squinting against a lightbulb he changed prior to breakfast. It’s a different colour from the rest, a cool white against the warmth of the other, older bulbs in the restaurant, and it washes him in a faint crisp light. 

“Well, at least it’s not blinking anymore,” Haku says. His elbows rest against the table. 

Miyami-san sighs, forlorn. “I’ll have to write down the model number so I can buy the correct bulb next time. What time are you planning to head out?” 

Haku leans over to you, taps the screen of your new phone you both spent an hour setting up last night. It lights up, displaying a blurry photo of Haku trying to take a selfie with you, overlaid by the time in white. 

“In about twenty minutes? I’ll wash up before we go,” Haku insists, getting to his feet. “You’ve been more than lovely making us breakfast.” 

He sweeps everything up into a pile before she can protest, and disappears, whistling, into the kitchen. 

“Haku’s a good boy,” she sighs, as you watch him go. She stretches, and leans backwards. “Before he left for school he always helped me with all the odd jobs around the house. Changed all my lightbulbs for me, too.” 

You laugh. “Sounds like Haku.” 

She adjusts the strap of her apron. “He’s so smart, too. Made the top of his class whenever he put his mind to it.” 

You suppress a smile. If you didn’t know better you’d think she was a grandmother eager to market her bachelor grandson off to the next available singleton.

“And responsible, too,” she continues. “Good thing he is, what with the shrine business.” 

She peeks at you, and you quickly school your widening smile into something more presentable. “Has he told you about the shrine?” 

You nod. You can hear Haku, more than a few handspans away, soft humming barely audible over the sound of running water in the kitchen. “The Kusanagi shrine.” 

She hums. “He’s going to take over from his family one day. He’s going to be a better leader than his father is.” 

A silence lapses over the both of you. They’re both true statements, you know, and yet there is something nagging at you about the mention of his father. 

“Miyami-san,” you start, carefully. “If I may ask… what’s his family like?” 

“His family?” She turns her head thoughtfully to the curtain that hides the kitchen from the restaurant, and is silent for so long you wonder if you’ve overstepped. 

You are about to mumble a hasty apology when she turns back to you. 

“They expect a lot from him,” she says, softly. “There’s a great many responsibilities that fall your way when you inherit a shrine. His father had to shoulder it, and his father before that, and so on. He may be running away from it now, but eventually it’ll have to be his turn, and I think in the back of their minds they all know it.” 

You want to nod, but it feels like the wrong thing to do. Running away… except he isn’t, not really. Everything Haku did at Darkwick, every skill you’ve seen him practise and every responsibility you’ve seen him manage in Hotarubi, felt like he was building himself to take over the shrine – from his artifact to the research for his missions to all the summer festivals he helped manage. Even now, from what you understand of his work, it seems like what he has chosen to do is in preparation for him to take over. 

“He’s more prepared than they think,” you say. “He works hard, even though he acts like he doesn’t.” 

She looks at you a little more sharply, then. There is a cool appraisal behind her squint, before it melts into something like approval. “He does, doesn’t he.” 

Before you can respond, though, Haku emerges from the kitchen, running a hand through his hair. “Talking about me?”

“You wish,” you say, and are rewarded immediately with the sparkle of his laugh. 

He pauses next to your seat before picking up his backpack. His hand nearly brushes yours. “Ready to head out?” 

You stand. Your hand nearly brushes his, a world apart. “Ready.” 

-

December 30 - Nagakute, Aichi Distance left to destination: 175km 

“Hard disagree – we turn left here – you’re only saying that because my name is Haku.” 

You squint at the alleyway in front of you dubiously. It’s bathed in the last rays of evening, a dying honey from the setting sun that does nothing to ward off the winter chill, and it seems to lead to yet another street that looks oddly similar to the one you’re about to leave. “Are you sure?” 

But Haku is already stepping forward, Google Maps winking into sleep on his phone screen, and so you follow behind. The thrift shop he is searching for is supposed to be a mere ten minute walk from where you left the warmth of the Ghibli Park, but you swear you’ve been wandering around for at least twenty minutes. 

“Anyway, no, it’s because he’s a river spirit–“

Haku glances at you, eyebrow raised. “I’m not a river spirit.” 

“-and he’s supposed to know a lot about the spirit world.” You huff at him, and he laughs in acquiescence. You reach the end of the alleyway; Haku squints against the reflection of sun on his phone and directs you to turn right. 

“And he spent a lot of the movie using that knowledge to protect and save Chihiro, didn’t he?” you continue. You look down at your feet even though the evening light is no longer shining directly into your eyes. The worn grey of the road winks at you as you cross residential street. “Like you did with me.” 

Haku is silent for a beat, before he says, lightly, “I think I’m much more like Howl.” 

You cannot hold back your snort. “Because how he gets all the girls?” 

His responding laugh is startled and bright. “C’mon now, princess. Howl only ever loved Sophie, in the end.” 

He looks at you, brows raised, like there is something you are supposed to understand, but after a moment of expectant silence too laden for you to consider you swallow the whiskey-burn of his eyes and turn away. 

“Is it nearby?” you ask, instead. You push the ice blocks you used to call hands deeper into your coat pockets, and push your gaze back down to the grey asphalt under your feet. 

Haku unlocks his phone in response. “One more block to go. Sorry, you must be tired.” 

You shake your head. 

“We’ll get dinner after this, then crash out,” he decides, anyway. “We had an early start today, and we’ve done a lot.” 

(You stopped earlier in the day at Atsuta Shrine to pay your respects before heading down to Ghibli Park, and briefly heard a guide explain about the great Kusanagi sword supposedly stored in the halls.

“Oh, my Kusanagi sword is great, alright,” Haku snorted under his breath; you smacked him on the shoulder and dragged him, holding back giggles, towards the exit before you got struck down for blasphemy.)

After two more minutes of sleepy residential buildings, you spot the orange signboard of the thrift store, hanging from a black rod above a shuttered flower shop. There is a chalkboard leaned against the side of the flower shop with carefully scrawled yellow letters and arrows directing you to a staircase around the back. Going up the concrete steps leads you to a wooden door with a heavy handle. 

Haku tugs the door open, and gestures for you to go inside. 

The store is swathed in yellow and orange, thanks to the narrow spot-light beams installed on the ceiling. The wooden shelving look old but well-cared for under carefully stacked clothes, a small contrast to the adjacent metal frames sagging with hangers of coats and jackets. There are mirrors gently leaned on the walls at strategic places throughout the store, reflecting the warm light from the ceiling and making the space look bigger than it actually is. 

A man in a beanie looks up from where he is slouched over the cashier, and waves a silent welcome that you both acknowledge. 

“One of my seniors told me this place has a good curation of sweaters,” Haku says, turning to study the racks. He picks up a bomber jacket in olive green, inspects it, then sets it down. “You’ll probably need more winter wear too, now that we don’t get climate control. But we’ll also stop at another place when we get to Kyoto, just so you can get some new clothes to wear around Subaru.” 

You nod, and dutifully turn your attention to the racks, fingers running across the soft fabrics draped neatly on dark metallic hangers. 

You’re looking at a cardigan the colour and texture of dawn clouds when Haku appears again at your elbow. “Look at this one.” 

He holds up a sweater in washed out sage. It’s slightly fluffy, sleeves softly melting into a cream. When you reach out to touch it it’s impossibly softer than it looks. 

“It’s cute,” you say. Its sloped shoulders are wide; you hold the pale green fabric up to his shoulders. “It looks your size, too.” 

Haku hums in agreement. He takes the sweater, gently, from your fingers, and turns it around, lining the edge of its shoulders up with yours. 

“I think it looks cuter on you,” he says. The honey of his eyes sparkle with mirth as he nudges you to face the mirror. “Like you’re stealing your boyfriend’s clothes.” 

You feel a fire climbing up your cheeks immediately, and you glare at Haku, heatless and helpless, as he bites back a laugh. He shifts away, grinning brightly, and leaves you staring in the mirror with the sweater folded between your hands. 

There is barely any evening light left over from golden hour, the last of the sun’s rays having died shortly before you stepped indoors, but the green of Haku’s hair is still dyed a soft copper by the warm lights of the store. He stands, turning glasses frames over in his hands, under a spotlight beam and the drifting strains of jazz, blurred only slightly by the fingerprints in the mirror and the irregular bump of your heart. 

The scene is so mundane it feels almost unreal – this Haku, suspended in glass and glow. His long fingers are not wrapped around his flute or dusty research tomes, but between folded jeans; his movements are slow and languorous, no longer bound by the urgency of missions or threat of curfew. 

You could stare at him like this forever. 

It is suddenly easy, so easy to imagine him elsewhere, you think – sorting through vegetables at a supermarket, folding laundry on the floor of his bedroom, doing anything and everything far and away from the drizzle of Hotarubi. 

This Haku has all the time in the world. 

So do you. So do you. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

“How does this look?” 

The heat of his vowels slide across the shell of your ear, and you jump slightly, eyes flying open. 

You are vaguely aware of a chunky grey frame, translucent acrylic that slips low on his nose bridge and blobs shadows on his cheeks, but his eyes have locked onto yours in the mirror as he leans down over your shoulder to peer at his reflection, cheek dangerously close to yours, so close that if you just turned, if you just—

It sends your heart crashing, thundering painfully, cruelly, through your throat, a weight and an untethering from the hypnosis of the moment all at once— 

“You look stupid,” you say. Or think you do, anyway. You can barely hear yourself over the thunderous rushing in your ears. “Try– try this one.”

Your fingers scrabble for the closest frame on the shelf next to you, and hold them up to the mirror. 

Haku laughs, a gentle huff that blows by your cheek as he lifts the frame out of your hand, and straightens back up to slip them on. 

It’s gold-rimmed, this time, a thin wire frame that catches the warm spot-lighting of the store and soaks a glow into his skin. The rounded rectangular shape sits well on his cheekbones, faded gold temples disappearing into his messy green hair. 

You blink, and there is a fleeting glimpse of sun-spots and crow’s feet, of salt-and-pepper hair melting into green, of laughter creasing itself into deep-set wrinkles in the corners of his smile. He is looking at you, still, in the way he always has, this old-man-mirror-Haku, and something blooms, choking and sweet, in the hollow of your ribs. 

Something shifts, then.

Eddies of a future you’ve never thought possible sing like the wind through the holes in your heart; they crash into you, a merciless tangle of relief and frustration and hope that steals the breath from your lungs you didn’t realise you were holding since leaving Darkwick. 

The tremble of it’s over and your curse is well and truly over courses through the map of your veins, and winds its way across where your eyes meet Haku’s through the mirror. The words crack themselves in half, split to show you a future so wide and open and yet so certain it threatens to swallow you whole – of you, alive and un-cursed and getting to grow old. Of you-and-Haku, hand-in-hand, getting to growing old together, looking up at the same sky. 

“-what do you think?” Haku is saying. His eyes are crinkled up in something you think might be fondness or affection, or something equally hopeful and terrifying. 

It looks good on you, your mouth moves on its own accord, you should get it, but that is as far as you get before he blurs together in a sear of tears. 

Haku moves immediately, hand on your elbow spinning you around to face him. His eyes search yours in alarm and concern and confusion, but to both your surprise a laugh bubbles out of you, quiet and free. 

You raise a hand to brush his bangs away from his forehead, and he leans into your touch, in spite of his bewilderment. 

“It looks good,” you say again, and you mean it. 

(He buys the glasses, of course, and three sweaters you said you liked. You leave the thrift shop with paper bags in hand, yet somehow feel a lot lighter than you did going in.) 

-

December 31 - Kuwana, Mie Distance left to destination: 99km

The numbers on the dashboard read a glowing ten thirty-eight. 

The highway stretches before the windshield, a wide belt that melts into the distance. It is empty, save for the occasional cargo truck Haku passes, and the glare of the noon sun reflecting off its smooth grey surface is enough to turn every travelling vehicle into a mini-oven despite the season. 

Haku adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. He reaches, slightly, to wind his window down to let some of the cool winter air in, but his fingers pause before they reach the switch. 

He peeks at where you are asleep, head resting on the passenger window and eyelashes brushing the soft of your cheek. He retracts his hand. 

He reaches, instead, with his other hand to the air-conditioning controls, and turns the dial towards “COOL”.

The numbers on the dashboard wink into ten thirty-nine. 

The packet of strawberry gummies on top of the winter coats folded in your lap crinkles slightly, then slides from where your grip has slackened. It has long since been emptied, with you taking turns to tuck the candies between your lips and his, and its lack of weight slips it neatly between your seat and the centre console. 

Ren recommended them, you said, an hour back, holding one up to his lips. They’re good, aren’t they?

Haku smiled, tamped down the familiar knot that swelled with any reminder of the years you spent at Darkwick without him by your side, and nodded. They’re pretty sweet. 

You grinned and tapped the large yellow zero printed atop ruby-red strawberries. No sugar, too! 

No, he thinks, now – perhaps the sugar had been in the brush of your fingertips against his lips. Perhaps it had been in the glitter of your laugh as you listened to him tell you some work story or another, or in the way the sun had bounced off the dashboard and lit you up all over, all soft glow and contentment as you slipped another gummy between the pink of your lips. 

For a moment, he wonders if you will taste like strawberry, if the curve of your smile will be just as sweet as it looks when pressed against his own–

He shakes his head, to clear it. 

Haku is a patient man. Ceremony is in his bones; he is good at waiting his turn, good at calculating consequences, good at following the rules. 

Except for when he isn’t. Except for when he texted you, midway through your last semester, to ask which branches of the Institute has offered you a job in hopes that he can persuade you to take up some position near his own. When he asked you, two months before graduation, to drive down to Kyoto with him instead of taking the train, just so he gets three days with you by his side after so many days apart. 

When he took one look at you, that night on the train from Kisaragi Station, and took your hand and held it all the way to Darkwick. 

Maybe it is selfishness, maybe it is impulsivity. Maybe it is irresponsibility, and maybe it is the reason why, try as he may, they will never deem him ready to take over the shrine, but oh, when he looks at you–

He is a patient man. He will be a patient man. He has waited two long, excruciating years without you, and he will continue to wait, for as long as it’ll take until you’re ready. 

The numbers on the dashboard wink into ten forty-three. 

Haku reaches over, again, to turn the air-conditioning dial further down. 

His gaze brushes against the new air freshener you bought him the day before at the gift shop. It smells of “clean” and “fresh”, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and he can barely catch its scent, but you unwrapped it the moment you got into the car and hung it neatly on the rearview mirror, and he cannot help but feel some fondness for something that brings you joy. Even if it’s just a small piece of cardboard with a white dragon and a girl printed on it. 

He would have chosen a different one, himself. He would have picked the one with Howl and Sophie - someone who learns how strong she really is, and someone who has waited a lifetime to love her. 

You stir in your sleep, shifting slightly so your head is no longer pressed against the passenger window. The numbers on the dashboard wink into ten forty-four. 

Haku takes the next exit off the highway, and wonders if you remember that in the movies, Chihiro saves Haku, too. 

-

December 31 - Uji, Kyoto

Distance left to destination: 21km 

“Haku!” 

The guy that emerges from the shrine’s prayer hall has a smile only one shade dimmer than the sun. He waves energetically at Haku and you, hands padded in red gloves a stark contrast with his navy blue haori, and bounds over to you. 

“Thought you weren’t coming back for another two days!” the man says, beaming. “We’re prepping the omikuji right now, like you told us to.” 

Haku chuckles, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “That’s good. I’m not back for work, though, I’m just here to show my friend around.“

The man looks at you curiously, and he looks so oddly familiar you could have sworn you’ve seen him somewhere before. He tilts his head to one side, like he’s working through the same puzzle you are, before it clicks–

“Honour student!” he exclaims, and claps his hands. “Didn’t expect to see you here!” 

Haku laughs, and shifts closer to you. “Darkwick just had their commencement ceremony, so I’m helping her settle into her new apartment soon.” 

Koji – the name comes to you in a flash, a vague impression of a Hotarubi general student floating to the top of your mind from when he helped Haku on a mission once – wiggles his eyebrows. “Will it be near to us?” 

Haku looks at you, thoughtfully. “The Institute put her in Kyoto, near Subaru, but I suppose…” 

Before he can finish the thought, however, a soft holler comes from an open window in the back of the sales hut. “Oi, heartbreaker!” 

A man sticks his head out of a back door. He looks pleased to see Haku, and disappears for a few seconds before emerging from the wooden doors, wrapping himself in a warmer coat. 

He waves a sheath of papers at Haku as he walks over. “We’re more or less ready for tomorrow, but I need you to sign a couple things–“

Haku moves over immediately, head bent over the documents, and leaves you in company of Koji. 

“Heartbreaker?” You murmur, and Koji beams. 

He nods his head, fluffy hair bouncing in his enthusiasm. “That’s Haku! Didn’t he tell you? When he first joined, half the local girls who came up to pray during Lunar New Year instantly fell in love and we had to barricade the shrine and defend ourselves with swords so our Haku wouldn’t get overrun–“ 

“Koji,” the other man says, severely, “stop making things up.” 

Koji pouts, and you have to bite your lip to keep from smiling. “Anyway, he’s built up quite a following among the locals. It’s good for business, though.” 

“I can imagine,” you say, and you can–

Haku, looking out the sales window next to the shrine, chin in hand and head slightly tilted as people come up to buy omamoris. The way the honey of his eyes will crease, slightly, as he smiles at their approach. The soft of his hands as he counts out their change, and wishes them a good day. 

Haku, head bent over a candle box before he reaches in to select an appropriate one. The curl of his long fingers over theirs as he presses the candles into their palm, a blessing, a benediction, conferred with intent. The soothe of his voice as he comforts them, wishes them well, after. 

Haku, this Haku that belongs to the people, whose heart swells with their aches and whose words are carefully chosen to quell them. This Haku, who works for the people by day, and works for them still by night. 

Haku looks up from where he is flipping through documents, pen in hand, and grins as he meets your eyes. “Maybe we should spread word that my heart already belongs to someone else.” 

Your cheeks burn immediately, and you open your mouth to stutter out a reply, but Haku’s senior beats you to the punch. 

“Disgusting,” he mutters fondly, barely louder than Koji’s awww, then flips a page for Haku. “Sign here, then get out of my sight. Word from HQ is that you’re on four concurrent missions in January, so make the best of your break.” 

Haku groans. “Best go pray for my own damn safety, then.” 

His senior rolls up the freshly signed document, then raps him smartly on the head. “No cursing on shrine grounds. Come on, Koji, you’re still not done with the omikujis.” 

Haku grins, rubbing his head where he got tapped, then turns to face you as Koji is dragged, mumbling in protest, back to the hidden back doors. “Shall we?” 

The rest of the shrine is fairly quiet. Sunlight dances through the bare branches as you cross the courtyard and duck around some gates to the main shrine. There are rabbits printed on cream-coloured lanterns attached to the gates, faded slightly by the elements and swaying in the wind. They look like they are dancing in greeting as you pass them. 

The main shrine Haku comes to a stop at is up a set of steep stone stairs. It is covered with wooden slats, painted warm by the noon light. If you didn’t look too closely you’d think the structures inside were glowing by themselves. 

Haku fishes out coins from his pocket, and hands one to you. He leans forward to shake the thick rope after you toss your coin into the wooden offering box, then you both bow and clap twice. 

You have so many things to wish for that you almost don’t know where to start, but the words flow out of your heart faster than you can think, afloat with intent and hope – for Haku to be safe. For Haku to be happy. For all the ghouls you’ve helped and been helped by to be happy and healthy. For all the anomalies they’ll run into to be a little less fatal, for the anomalies themselves to be safely captured and treated well. For all their futures to be a little less perilous, a little more secure. 

For your future to be a little less dangerous, too. For your future to hold warm soup and cosy evenings, for your days to hold laughter and ease and familiarity, for your nights to hold home and sighs and moonlit dances across the kitchen floor with Haku–

Your eyes flutter open, and you bow, quickly. 

Best to not hope for too much. 

You sneak a glance at Haku. His head is still bowed, hands still pressed together. He is washed in the bright of sunlight unshaded by winter’s branches, and in the silent sun-stirred dance of dust motes around him he looks almost like a painting. 

His bracelets shine a radiant translucence as they catch and absorb the sunlight, nearly covering most of a scar underneath. Your heart twinges slightly – you were there when he got injured. 

It was to save you, really, some tiny anomaly or another changing directions and hurtling towards you with a vengeance. If Haku didn’t knock it off its trajectory with the back of his hand… you can’t imagine what would have happened. 

Instead, you’d brought him home to Hotarubi and carefully cleaned his cuts and wounds, and stayed with the soft glow of his smile and the even softer glow of his words, well into the night. He’d murmured gentle reassurances into the quiet of the night, thigh pressed up against yours as you sat side by side and looked out onto the still Hotarubi gardens; yet the feeling of guilt has never gone away, cementing itself into the cracks of all that you owe him. 

I’m sorry, you said, again, for the fiftieth time that night. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have gotten injured. 

He had laughed before a ghost of pressure landed against your temple, so soft you think to this day you’d imagined it. Anything for you, princess. Stop worrying about it. 

It sent your heart racing, back then, his words wild fireworks popping in your throat. 

The same way his words send your heart racing, now. 

Maybe we should spread word that my heart already belongs to someone else. 

You exhale. Haku has never hidden his affection for you, not really – whether it was proclaimed in front of a beaming Zenji or murmured into the drizzle of Hotarubi, the flirtatious comments you once believed were just part of his personality or simply lavished onto everyone you eventually realised were only ever directed to you. 

And you understood it, back then, the same way you understand it now. Haku has never been shy about you. How much of it was guilt over bringing you to Darkwick and a burgeoning sense of responsibility for your curse, you will perhaps never know, but this is what you know now, after two years of turning the thought of Haku over and over in your mind: 

That you never agreed to start because you were always afraid of the end. That you perhaps wished he would forget about you after his time at Darkwick, if only to make things easier for him after your transformation into the Kyklos; that you wished to forget about him, too, after his time at Darkwick, if only to avoid the real possibility of Haku finding someone else.   

But now your last page has been ripped out, a future of a curse torn out by your very own hands and shredded into the wind… now that you’re out and free (albeit still working for the Institute) and ready to rewrite your own ending… 

Haku looks up from his hands, and bows. He turns to you, smile fond and sweet, and extends a hand to help you down the steps. “Ready?” 

You take his hand, lace his fingers into your own. The word on your tongue turns into a candle turns into a lantern turns into the sun. “Ready.”

-

December 31 - Uji, Kyoto Distance left to destination: 19km 

You cradle your hot cup of tea in your palms. 

The cold of the bridge railing beneath your elbows seep past your coat and into your bones. The last of the sun’s rays cast a glow on the trees on the opposing shore, turning them into a sea of reddish-gold, but they do little to warm you as you watch the sun sink below the horizon. 

Haku rests, one handspan away, identical cup nestled between his hands. 

“This is my favourite place to watch the sunset,” he says. “You can see the train tracks and the Uji Bridge from here.”

A train rumbles by in the distance as he says it, slicing the scene in half. It takes a few seconds before the sky meets the river again.  

“I think about bringing you here, all the time,” he says, quietly. He shifts the cup to his other hand. “I come here after work sometimes, and stay until the sky is dark and I can see the stars. Then I wonder about whether you’re looking at the same stars, too, in Darkwick.”

You both watch the sun creep steadily downwards, meeting its wavering counterpart in the water. 

Haku exhales. He does not look at you. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His words wrap around you, hushed and gossamer. How much you’ve thought about him, too, looking up at the night skies as you dragged yourself back to the cathedral. 

Whenever you walked out from Hotarubi, shutting your one-person umbrella and looking up at the moon, you’d think of him. 

The way he’d walk you back, shoulder to shoulder as if you were still sharing an umbrella. The way he’d look at you, moonlight tangled into his eyelashes and the arc of his hands, the way he’d smile like the night was a secret only the two of you shared. The way he’d sit you down on the campus stone benches to talk about your missions with other houses, the way he’d reassure you, again and again, that whatever you were doing was enough. That you were enough. 

The memories twist themselves onto your tongue. You do not look at him, either, when you say, “Me too.” 

The last sliver of sun slips away, and then it is gone. 

The conversation turns to seeing Subaru on stage in two days and what flowers you plan to get him, then to your new Institute-funded apartment, a small place buried near a Galaxy Express station, and the furniture you plan to get. 

You wonder out loud how long the Galaxy Express would take to get to Uji if you and Subaru were to come visit, as compared to taking the regular train from Kyoto Station. It’s already a very short distance, you think, but maybe it’d take half the time. 

“It takes sixteen minutes from Kyoto’s HQ,” Haku says. He taps the top of his now-empty cup with a long finger. “Or twenty-two, if you count the time it takes to walk back to my apartment.” 

“Damn, these cats really know how to run a railway line.” 

Haku laughs, quiet and breathless, before he says, “Move in with me, instead.” 

You pause, cup halfway lifted to your lips. You lower your hand. 

“It’s only a slightly longer commute,” he murmurs, “and you won’t have to buy new furniture.” 

He looks at you, eyes full of morning sun. You read in them something that feels a lot like a future. 

You won’t have to spend your nights alone in a drafty old room anymore. We will not have to untangle ourselves at the end of the day, and pretend we do not want to stay. Now that I’ve spent three whole days with you I don’t know how I’ve ever managed without; it feels like I’m never going to be able to go back. 

You exhale. 

This is how it has always been - this is how the two of you are - him building a bridge between you both and reminding you that if you ever want to cross it, if you ever need to cross it, he will always be on the other side, waiting. 

He waits, now. 

For a moment, you think you are brave. 

Ready?

But the moment passes, and the words that have swelled up on your tongue are familiar and terrifying and comforting and too heavy and mean too little and too much, all at once, and you swallow the waves that rise up in your lungs, and you close your eyes, and you pretend you are not in love with him, have not been in love with him since he held your hand in the dark of a train carriage three-odd years ago. 

“Imagine the paperwork,” you say, instead, and Haku leaves it at that. 

-

December 31 - Uji, Kyoto Distance left to destination: 16km 

Haku’s apartment is small, but homey. 

It is much more modern that you expect it to be, and feels infinitely more Haku than any Hotarubi dorm could. The kitchen you step into is tiny but sleek, with just enough space to fit a boiler, a tea set and an induction cooker before ending at a large fridge. The green glow on the microwave tucked onto a shelf a bit higher than eye-level reads eleven forty-two.

He lucked out on the Institute lottery, he tells you, setting his keys in a bowl on the kitchen island and flicking on the kitchen lights – where others only get a studio apartment he at least gets a bedroom attached to the living and dining area. Ghoul perks, perhaps. 

Where you expect a kitchen island is instead a mountain of books, shuffled neatly into piles not unlike what you used to be greeted with in his old dorm, bookmarked full with post-its covered in his chicken-scratch writing. 

You pick out a barely-used blue post-it pad from a pile of neon-yellow ones, and run your thumb over the winking tanuki in the background. “Is this the one I bought for you, back on that shrine mission?”

Haku peeks over your shoulder. His laugh brushes your ear, soft and warm, before moving away to roll your luggage into the living room. “Yeah. I can’t bear to use it much, though. It feels as though I should treasure it.” 

You snort, looking up at him. “I can always buy you another one.”

“I’m not opposed to that.” 

(You’d buy him one set everyday for the rest of his days, if he’d let you.)

Haku tucks your suitcase next to a soft grey sofa set opposite a plain white wall, and sets your duffle bag on a small wooden coffee table in between that looks like it hasn’t been dusted in years. “There are fireworks bound to start in about fifteen minutes. Wanna watch those on the balcony?”

You blink – you’ve almost forgotten that today is New Year’s Eve, what with all the sightseeing you’ve packed in today around Uji. 

Haku tugs the pale blue curtains apart, revealing glass doors to a small balcony overlooking residential neighbourhood. The night is quiet, still, buzz of the city conspicuously absent from the streets despite the celebratory date and even though most households have their lights on and curtains pulled open in anticipation of the fireworks, you don’t hear much beyond the whistling of the wind when you step outside. 

You settle against the railing on his balcony. “It’s so nice, here.” 

Haku joins you. “When everyone’s lights are off, at night, you can see the stars.” 

You tilt your head up. Haku’s apartment is high up enough the street lamps that you do not have to shield your eyes from their orange glow, and as you peer up at the heavens you see constellations slowly starting to take shape. “Wow.” 

Haku shifts, closer. His shoulder is pressed up against yours. “Any New Year’s resolutions yet?” 

You laugh. “Other than learning how to survive outside Darkwick?” 

“That’s enough,” Haku says, softly. “Sometimes surviving is tough enough, on its own.” 

You bite your lip, and look down at the street below. A stray cat dips in and out of the shadows. 

“I’m going to be brave this year,” you tell him. 

I’m going to be brave enough to face what’s coming. I’m going to be brave enough to decide what I’m going to do with my life, instead of obeying missives from a corrupted Academy and existing at their beck and call. I’m going to be brave enough to tell you what I really want to say, to build my own side of the bridge, to finally meet you on the other side. 

Haku tilts his head to look at you, then. He raises a hand from where his arms have been crossed on the railing, long fingers tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

It sends daylight swirling down your spine, leaves you breathless and August-warm when you catch his gaze. 

“I think you’re already plenty brave,” he says, quietly. 

Before you can respond, however, the street explodes with noise. Windows are pulled open and chanting spills out onto the street, a clamour of three, two, one– 

Tiny lights hang themselves across the sky, a mere flash before tightly packed colours dazzling as the sun explode across its inky canvas. Brilliant reds and blues and yellows and greens burst into bloom over and over again; they paint everything on the street with their glow. The distant booms and whistles of their journey travel through the neighbourhood, wind their way through the festivities and laughter and cheer. 

It is at once so extraordinary and normal, this celebration of the Earth making its way around the sun yet again, that you find yourself giddy, smiling, joyful. You turn to look at Haku, tinted a faint red from the vivid glows in the sky, only to find he is already looking at you, gaze warm, fond. 

You learnt once, on a mission with Jabberwock, that firecrackers and fireworks set off during New Year were as much meant to scare away the bad things as they were to celebrate the good. 

I think you’re already plenty brave. 

In the bright of the night his words soak into your skin. 

Perhaps you are. 

You lean up, and press a small kiss to the corner of his lips. This is me, building my side of the bridge. This is me, ready. “Happy New Year, Haku.” 

His palm catches your cheek as you pull away. The spread of his smile, wide and bright and delighted, sends stardust settling into the hollow of your throat, sets its own fireworks off within the hollow of your ribs, pulls a smile onto your own cheeks. The gold of his eyes shine with something more than the pyrotechnics, something full of devotion, full of beginnings. 

“Happy New Year,” Haku says, and leans in to kiss you again. 

[mraprilfools]

Title: A Snowy Day Off

Pairing: Old!Vox x Wife!Reader

Contents/Warnings: Domestic Fluff, LIKE so much Domestic Fluff, Kissing, Tickling, Brief Suggestive themes

Length: 2.8k

Summary: A long awaited day off has come and you spend it by going shopping together in town! The two of you end up enjoying a nice quiet day together in the snow, dinner, and even watching television together.

A/N: I don't have an excuse. That box headed dork is too cute.

It didn’t snow every year in hell. It was a rarity that you had come to appreciate, banishing the otherwise oppressive heat of the underworld. Dressed in a heavy winter coat, neck wrapped with a new scar, mufflers, gloves, and fur boots. Your husband didn’t leave much to chance to make sure you stayed warm when you went out. But a streak of mischievousness inspired you to break away from his side. A punishment for his audacity for letting go of your hand! You stepped down Cannibal Town to fall against a pile of untouched powdered snow. Crystals flew into the air, sparkling as they caught the light.

The crimson expanse above felt almost light thanks to the warm tickling of your chest. The snow crunched beneath your body, and with liberated joy from your overprotective husband, you raised your arms and spread your legs creating a snow demon in the snow. The several layers you wore couldn’t protect you from the direct impact of the snow, sending you a familiar chill that reminded you of the touch of your beloved.

The snow clung to your clothes, weighing you down. But, you didn’t mind it one bit. The rapid sound of footsteps crunching snow in the distance inspired a guilty grin on your face, teeth on full display. A shadow swallowed the light, with the faint glow of your husband's screen being the only reason you can see his face underneath the parasol protecting his very vulnerable water head.

“There you are, dear...” Vox sighed, exasperated. The monochrome face smiled at the sight of you, hunching down beside you. “I turned around and you were nowhere to be found!”

“Yep. I decided I wanted to make a snow angel, but I knew you’d stop me.”

Vox narrowed his eyes, spinning the parasol in his hand. The shadow it cast danced across your view, feeling as if days and nights were passing over you if you simply closed your eyes. “And why would I stop you?”

“You’ll catch a cold dear! Let me put at least five more scarves on you!” You taunted him, trying to imitate his voice. A bit of a trial with the thick TV filter it had.

“Ah.” Vox scoffed. “Well excuse me for worrying about my wife’s well-being. It’s not like I have first-hand experience with how miserable you get in public.”

You sucked in a breath, shifting your gaze away. “Never happened! I’m a FIERCE independent woman when I’m sick! I don’t need no man.”

“Voooox, I’m cold. Can you turn on the head blanket? Make me chicken noodle soup! I’m so bored of sleeping, read me a story.” It was Vox’s turn to impersonate you. You puffed out your cheeks in response. A claw affectionately poked at the right one until you blew out a raspberry at him.

“I can’t feel the cold, honey. Besides the clothes make sure we don’t get stuck together.” Vox flexed his hands, drawing attention to his own body.

“It’s not like I’m blowing you in public. Also-- I don’t think it’d… stick?”

Vox’s face immediately turned white, the flush on his face masking the speckles of white on his screen. Nervous laughter bubbled forth. “Let’s not test that out. That would be too embarrassing to have to go to the clinic for.” You broke out into laughter with him, throwing your arm over your eyes. The mental image of sitting in the waiting room was enough to make you lurch forward and hug yourself.

Vox caught your back, holding your back before you could fall back down. The handle of the umbrella was pushed into your hands, which you grasped onto with a question obvious in the way you knit your brows. Vox needed the parasol to protect himself from having snow and water get into his head. You were far more resistant.

“Hold still honey, you’ve got snow in your hair.” His hands reached for the top of your head, brushing away the accumulated snow that was quickly becoming chilly when it melted and ran down the back of your neck.

Silently you obliged, focusing on watching his face when his brows knit in concentration. Vox had this habit of always revealing a single tooth on the right side of his mouth when he was truly absorbed in something. The habit revealing itself inspired a smile, one that pulled Vox from his task to match his dark gray eyes with yours. That familiar blush returned, more intense than ever.

“What are you staring at?”

“You.”

A garbled noise like static erupted from his speakers, the hand on the back of your head pulling you forward so your face was pushed into the cushion of his chest. You naturally wrapped your arms around him, navigating the parasol to keep his safe safe from the snow above.

“Stay here for a moment dear… I just want to hold you.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. The feel of his hands tracing down your hair, brushing the snow off your back, and the static of his screen against the top of your head were all familiar sensations that made you think of home. You shifted in his arms, a motion that signaled him to ease back. Settling your hand on his shoulder, you tugged him forward. Vox took the hint, weaving his claws between the locks of your hair to act as a natural barrier so he could cradle your face.

Safe from the bitter cold, the glass screen came closer until your nose and forehead bumped against it. The head is one of the places that would always be safe thanks to the head it always exerted. You loved touching it during the winter months just to warm up your hands. He always complained, but you knew he secretly loved the attention.

Vox’s hands found their familiar place beneath your skull as he guided your lips to lay on top of his. You tugged the parasol down, using it as a natural barrier from the rest of the world while you shared an innocent kiss with your husband. It was a simple mingling of lips brushing against one another through breathy giggles.

“Let’s get you home. I’ll draw you a bath so you can warm back up. Aaand how about some chicken noodle soup for lunch?” Vox asked while the area between his eyes remained pressed against your forehead.

You wrinkled your nose. “I’m cold, not sick! Any warm meal will do. If YOU’RE cooking though…” With a cocky grin, you fussed with the scarf wrapped around his neck. A dark blue scarf that matched your own monogrammed with both of your initials. “How about my favorite?”

“I could be convinced.” Vox began, a dark gray sharkish smile stretching across his screen. “If you’ll… give me a back massage tonight.”

“Hmm… I get a home-cooked meal from my husband. AND I get a free excuse to touch his sexy body after. Too late to change your mind though, deal!”

That same blush returned, with Vox clicking his tongue as his claws continued to thread through your hair. Knocking away the remnants of the show. “Not as beautiful as yours.”

What should have been a fifteen-minute walk to pick up some eggs had become an adventure of gluttony. The two of you ended up getting muffins and fresh bread from the baker too. Then when a confectioner caught your eye, Vox couldn’t help but tempt you to give in and spoil yourself. The bags in your hands were far heavier than any of you expected, or so you suspected. You had left Vox to carry it all while he trusted his life in your hands with the parasol.

Vox ended up having the right idea in the end. The bath right after turning from the cold ended up being heavenly. Feeling the dreadful chill that made you feel numb and tingled with the heat of the water. You had to palm handfuls of water to first acclimate your face that was the worst. Your nose felt like it was about to fall off! The hot water unfortunately didn’t last long, but it encouraged you to get washed up and out of the bath.

A bathrobe had been left out on the counter for you to slip into once you dried off with the towel. It was warm to the touch. Vox must have run it through the dryer for a few minutes for you. The warmth of the gesture warmed you to the very heart as you wrapped it around your shoulders. Dinner was ready by the time you left the bathroom, giving you a fantastic chance to see Vox wrapped up in that pink and white frilly apron he originally got because he wanted to see you wearing it.

Vox sighed dramatically, bending over like he was picking something up. “Can’t even cook a meal for my beautiful wife without her trying to sexualize me because I’m so cute in an apron. Well, go ahead and spank me if you have to.”

“Pfft! I just thought you looked very cute. I wasn’t thinking you were sexy at all.”

“N-not even a little?” He asked the frown on his face was even worse with how large those digital eyes grew. You covered your mouth to suppress the snickering.

“Ok, a little sexy. I could see myself bending you over the counter and fucking you.” You came up behind Vox, grabbing hold of his hips to send his rear smack against your hips.

“Oooh!” Vox squealed as girlishly as he could fake it, holding his claws up to his mouth like he were genuinely in shock. “Ruffian!”

It was a peaceful everyday life with the two of you even settling in together to watch your favorite show ‘I Love Luci’, the hit show based on the Morningstars! A show that Vox had directed personally, getting inspiration from your own boring domestic life. It was strangely entertaining!

Was a little narcissistic? Yes. But, you enjoyed watching a glorified version of your own married life on the television. It had far more drama, and some of the conflicts were exaggerated in a way that now that it was over the two of you could both laugh at it. A warm bath, a hot meal, and snuggling with Vox on the couch was exactly all you needed to end up drifting to sleep snuggled under a blanket.

You hadn’t even intended on it. While watching a re-run you mentally said to yourself, ‘I’ll close my eyes for five minutes’. You didn’t even last five seconds. When you next opened your eyes you were already being carried to the bedroom. With half-open eyes, you sleepily smiled at him.

“Good morning Princess.”

“Mmn… it better still be evening. If you left me to sleep on the couch all night I’ll uh...” You faltered, your sluggish mind still not fully awake yet. Vox flashed that toothy smile.

“Very threatening dear. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so cute I want to cuddle with you all night! But-- you got lucky. The show only ended five minutes ago.”

He laid you out on the bed, a type of spoiling you happily too even accepting his help to remove your robe and slip into some silken pajamas. His lips lingered on yours as he pulled in your top, pushing you back into the bed with his weight crashing upon you. The springs creaked with the protest of two bodies in one place, your arms locked around his body feeling the most safe with his weight on top of yours.

“Too sleepy to give me that backrub you promised?” Vox asked.

“Kiiinda.” You admitted. You bent your head into the crook of his neck, pulling down the turtleneck to kiss the exposed thick tangle of wires that ran into his head. It was a type of intimacy that made Vox lock up for a second, then relax when your kisses would tickle the base of his throat.

“You’re too sleepy for that too then, honey.”

“Tch...” You clucked your tongue, falling back against the sheets. With half-opened eyes you stretched out your hands to grasp the side of the box, staring into his digital face. “Why are you so cute?!”

A furious flush covered his screen. His eyes shifted away as his lips down-turned in a petulant pout. “I’m not cute. I’m cool.”

“You’re not cool. You’re a dork and cute as well.”

“Wh--!” Vox scoffed, shooting you a glare. “Shouldn’t you think your husband is the coolest?”

“Nah- I married the biggest dork. He has this dorky smile whenever I tell him I love him, he has the silliest freckles, and he stutters when I bully him.” You proudly proclaimed, watching the utter betrayal in his widened eyes.

“N-I! You know what!” Vox hiked up your top until it only covered your chest and tickled your sides with the back of his claws. Immediately the ticklish sensation had you squirming beneath him, clamping down on his shoulder with one hand, and the other trying to pin down the hand tickling your side.

“N-NO! STOP! PFFHAHAHA! STOP! NOO! VOX!”

An evil maniacal laugh rang out. “Not until you say I’m cool!”

Stuck between your pride and Vox’s, you tried to hold back as long as possible. Twisting your body, trying to roll over, anything to avoid the ticklish sensation. But as it became hard to breathe, you beat the bed and begged him. “OK! OK! STOP STOP!”

With panted breath, he did as you asked. Leaving his hand to wander by your side with full intent to continue if you didn’t give him what he wanted. There were two dark strips trailing down his evil smirk knowing he had you in a checkmate.

“You’re… the coolest man I know! O.K!”

“NOW I know you’re lying.” Vox scoffed, rolling his eyes. But that familiar lack of color on his face was a tell-tale sign of otherwise. Not to mention he was making that same dorky smile you just made fun of him for.

“Now I’m not even sleepy anymore. You tickled it out of me!” You whined, “I was so comfy and happy too. Ruined it.”

Realizing his mistake, Vox’s smile soured. He reached onto his side to pull down the zipper for his turtleneck and pulled it off. The trousers came off and stripped down to his boxers he laid down in the bed beside you and opened up the blankets in an open offer for a cuddle.

An offer you gave a stink eye initially. But who were you to deny cuddles? Like a wounded dog, you wandered in and allowed him to wrap an arm around your waist and hug you flush against his body. A small throw pillow was pulled over, settled over his arm to act as a cushion for your head. One you gratefully took.

“This help?” Vox asked.

“A little...” You confessed. Laid onto your side, her palms slid over the smooth skin of the man beside you. The firm muscles flexed under your touch. The texture wasn’t the same throughout. On his ribs, there were these indents of glass where a faint blue light glowed. It was smooth like glass. While you explored his body, his claws brushed over your back, running his claws up and down your back with the cover of the silk pajamas protecting your skin.

With his screen tucked in close, Vox whispered, “Can I get that back massage in the morning?”

“I… think that can be arranged. But you and I both know it won’t just be a backrub.”

“When is it ever?” Vox guiltily admitted, with a hint of laughter in his voice. The faint buzz of his static was a prelude to the kiss pressed against your temple. It always took a few minutes for the sheets to get warm enough that you could comfortably sleep. But the warm heat of the box pressed against your head helped.

“Good night dear. I love you, Vox.”

“I love you too, good night.”

When you shut your eyes, you focus listening to the white noise of the fans in his head and inside of his body lulling you into a renewed sense of security. You were far too excited from the tickling, so you let your hands continue to wander across his side. Tracing the dips and curves of his body, occasionally shifting when you tickled him somewhere. Glass pressed against your cheek as his face snuggled closer to yours.

A sensation that you first found odd, but found familiar now. If you never knew what it was like to nuzzle faces with somebody with a real face? You’d be happy. With that thought lingering in the back of your mind, you were once again pulled under for real to sleep.

[hd-junglebook]

My Sunshine

Part 3

Warnings : kissing, pregnancy, sex (briefly), fighting, angry Jack! also not proofread so enjoy!

a:n Idk when I'll start on part 4 since I want to finish it's always been you, but I hope you guys like this one, cause I sure did. lmk what you think guys. pretty fluffy.

Masterlist Link

summary: The clock is ticking for how long she can keep a secret. Enjoy y/n and Jack indulging in each other in more way than one ;)

Word Count - 5538

...

15:23pm

Two months later…

She lay back on the exam table, the cool gel on her exposed belly sending a shiver down her spine. Heather sat beside her, holding her hand as the ultrasound technician moved the transducer over Y/N's stomach.

"There's your baby," the technician said with a smile, pointing to the screen. "Everything looks great. The heart rate is strong, and the baby is measuring right on track."

Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes as she stared at the grainy image of her child. She squeezed Heather's hand, a wave of emotion washing over her.

"Do you want to know the sex?" the technician asked, glancing between Y/N and Heather.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lower lip. She had been torn about whether or not to find out, but in the end, she had decided to wait. "No, I don't think so. I want it to be a surprise."

Heather's eyes widened, and she turned to Y/N with an incredulous look. "What? But how will we plan the baby shower? We need to know if we should buy pink or blue!"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "We can do a gender-neutral theme, Heather. It's not a big deal."

Heather pouted, but then her face lit up with an idea. "Okay, how about this? You don't find out, but I do. That way, I can plan the shower and keep it a secret from you."

Y/N considered the idea for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, that works. Just don't slip up and tell me, okay?"

Heather grinned, making a zipping motion over her lips. "My lips are sealed."

The technician smiled, handing Y/N a towel to wipe off the gel. "I'll just write it down and give it to your friend, then. Congratulations, by the way. You're going to be a great mom."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest at the words. "Thank you. I can't wait to meet this little one."

As they walked out of the doctor's office, Heather looped her arm through Y/N's, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, when are you going to tell Jack about the baby? He's going to be so excited!"

Y/N's steps faltered, and she looked away, avoiding Heather's gaze. "I don't know. I'm just not ready yet."

Heather stopped walking, turning to face Y/N with a serious expression. "Y/N, you can't keep this a secret from him forever. In five months, you're going to have a baby, and he deserves to know."

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. I just... I'm scared, Heather. What if he doesn't want this? What if he leaves me?"

Heather's expression softened, and she pulled Y/N into a hug. "Oh, honey. Jack loves you. He's not going to leave you, no matter what. And if he does, I'll kick his ass myself."

Y/N laughed, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks, Heather. You're right. I need to tell him. I'll do it soon, I promise." Heather nodded in response, squeezing Y/N's hand.

…

18:03pm

Y/N marked another X on the calendar, her hand instinctively moving to her slightly rounded belly. At 19 weeks pregnant, her bump was still small, and she had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret from most people, including Jack.

As she settled onto the couch, Y/N groaned as another wave of cramping tightened her abdomen into knots. Curling further into herself, she pressed a hand to her aching stomach, wishing the heating pad would ease the pain faster.

The cramps had eased slightly, but a lingering discomfort gnawed at her. Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, and she reached for it with a weary groan. Jack's name flashed across the screen, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Hey Jack..." she answered, trying to keep the discomfort out of her voice.

His warm chuckle immediately soothed some of the tension in her neck. "Hey sunshine, how's my girl doing?"

"Could be worse. Is everything okay?" Y/N drawled absentmindedly, shifting the heating pad to a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I'm sorry hun, I just called to see if you wanted to go out later?" Jack's voice crackled slightly through the phone. "Just you, me...and that beautiful face of yours."

Y/N felt her cheeks warming at his flirtatious words, but grimaced as another cramping pain twisted her abdomen. "I would love to go out with you, Jack, but..." Y/N grimaced, drawing a shaky breath. "I'm not feeling too well right now. I think I might be coming down with something."

A heavy pause hung between them until Jack's warm chuckle drifted through the phone. "Well, how about I come over instead? I'll bring all your favorite snacks." His voice took on a gentle, coaxing tone. "You can pick out one of your corny movies, leave a Jack-sized space on the couch, and we'll have a cozy night in."

Closing her eyes, Y/N pictured Jack's strong arms enveloping her, his solid warmth soothing her aching body. The thought made her burrow deeper into the couch cushions with a soft whine. "You'd really come over? But I'm such a mess right now, Jack. I don't want you to have to deal with..."

She trailed off as another stabbing cramp seized her abdomen. Distantly, she heard Jack's worried murmurs through the phone.

"Y/N? Sunshine, you still with me? That's it, I'm coming over right now and you can't stop me."

Blinking back the tears stinging her eyes, Y/N huffed out a shaky laugh. "Yes, dear."

She could practically hear the grin in Jack's voice. "There's my girl. Just sit tight, okay? I'll be there with enough junk food to reunite a boyband."

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming in her chest at Jack's unwavering support. " The door'll be unlocked, so just come in when you get here. You're the best, you know that?"

"I do, but it's always nice to hear," Jack teased. "I'll see you soon, sunshine. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

Pushing herself up from the couch, Y/N made her way to the bathroom, one hand resting on her belly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused, taking in the slight roundness that was just beginning to show beneath her oversized t-shirt.

"We'll tell him soon, little one," she murmured, rubbing gentle circles over her stomach. "But for now, it's just you and me."

With a soft smile, Y/N turned away from the mirror and headed back to the living room to wait for Jack.

…

19:12pm

Y/N hummed along to the music playing softly as she cleaned up the dishes from her snack earlier. The warm, soapy water soothed her aching hands as she scrubbed the bowl. She was so focused on her task that she didn't hear the front door open and close behind her, or the soft footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Suddenly, a pair of warm hands covered her eyes, startling her out of her reverie. "Guess who?" Jack's voice was a low rumble against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped her, and she felt herself melting against his solid chest with a relieved sigh.

"Come on, guess!" Jack urged, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

Y/N couldn't fight the girlish giggle that escaped her lips. She placed the bowl back in the sink and reached up to cover his hands with her own, enjoying the playful moment. "Hmm, I don't know..." she teased, pretending to ponder the question. "Could it be my grumpy landlord finally coming to fix that leaky faucet?"

Jack chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back where his chest was pressed. "You wound me, love. Here I am, armed with enough junk food to induce a coma, and you accuse me of being the landlord. I thought you'd be more excited to see me."

He slowly spun her around to face him, removing his hands from her eyes to reveal the adorable grin on his face. Her heart pounded loudly against her chest as she took in his appearance, from the tousled hair that she longed to run her fingers through to the warm, blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

He was wearing the soft, worn t-shirt that she loved, the one that always smelled like him, and she had to resist the urge to bury her face in his chest and inhale deeply.

"Hi," she breathed out shyly under his intense gaze.

Jack's smile softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "Hi yourself." Jack's gaze dropped to her lips briefly before he leaned in, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against them.

Y/N's toes practically curled at the gentle caress. When he pulled back, she blinked up at him dazedly. "What was that for?"

"Just felt like it," Jack shrugged with a crooked smile. He nodded towards the two bulging grocery bags on the counter.

"So, what kind of junk food extravaganza do you have planned for us tonight?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and playful despite the emotions swirling inside her.

Jack grinned, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a family-sized bag of chips. "Only the best for my girl. We've got chips, cookies, candy... everything we need for a proper movie night. And of course, I brought your favorite ice cream."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she felt a sudden craving for the rich, creamy treat. "My hero!" Y/N clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. "However will I repay you?" He laughed, pulling her into a tight hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

His eyes danced with mirth. "Well, for starters you can clear off some space on that couch..." He waggled his eyebrows comically. "I'll need somewhere to nestle in right next to you."

Laughing, Y/N swatted at his chest lightly. After clearing space on the couch, Y/N turned to see Jack carefully arranging an assortment of snacks on the coffee table.

"You really went overboard, didn't you?" She grinned, eyeing the smorgasbord of chips, cookies, candy, and her favorite ice cream pints.

Jack looked up with an incredulous expression. "Overboard? Sweetheart, this is the bare minimum for a proper couch date with snacks." He held up a pint with a flourish. "This double fudge brownie is a spiritual experience."

"You're ridiculous," Y/N laughed, grabbing the ice cream from his hand. "But I guess that's why I lo—" She caught herself abruptly, heat flooding her cheeks.

Jack's eyes danced with amusement, but he didn't comment on her near slip. Instead, he scooped her close, brushing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Why don't you pick the movie while I make us some snack plates?"

Nodding mutely, Y/N hugged the ice cream pint to her chest as Jack's warmth enveloped her for a moment before he released her. As she searched through the horror selection, she snuck glances at him piling snacks onto two big plates.

"You know," Jack's teasing voice made her look over. "If you burn a hole through those snacks just by staring, we'll have to start all over."

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. "Well maybe if someone didn't buy so many options, I wouldn't be starving just looking at them!"

Chuckling, Jack set the heaping plates on the coffee table and patted the couch cushion beside him. "C'mere, you brat. Let's get this movie started."

As Y/N cuddled into his side, surrounded by a cocoon of warmth and the tantalizing scent of buttery snacks, she couldn't quite believe how utterly content she felt. Jack's arm draped casually around her shoulders and she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

Just before she hit play, she felt Jack's lips graze the top of her head tenderly. "Thanks for letting me take care of you tonight, sunshine." She smiled at him, grinning mischievously as y/n clicked play on the remote, the opening title for "The Autopsy of Jane Doe" flashing across the TV screen.

Jack's eyes went comically wide. "Wait, I thought we were watching a rom-com? This is a horror flick!"

"Psh, you'll be fine," Y/N waved a dismissive hand, suppressing a grin. "Don't be such a baby."

"A baby?!" Jack sputtered, looking affronted. "I'll have you know I happen to be exceptionally brave when it comes to scary movies."

The opening scene was already building ominous tension as the coroners examined the mysterious body. Y/N felt Jack tense beside her on the couch. Leaning in closer, she murmured in a faux-spooky voice. "You're trembling, Jack. Should I pause it?"

"Don't you dare," he shot back, puffing out his chest in an attempt at nonchalance.

Y/N had to bite back a giggle at his bravado act. Onscreen, the music swelled as something creepy happened and Jack actually jumped, his arm tightening instinctively around her shoulders.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" he grumbled, throwing her a sideways glare as she dissolved into laughter.

Between squeals of laughter, Y/N managed, "Your face...oh my god, you should see...your face!"

Growling playfully, Jack tackled her until she was pinned beneath him on the couch, squeaking in surprise. His eyes danced with mirth, their noses brushing. "You think you're sooo funny, don't you?"

Y/N was breathless with residual giggles, grinning up at his adorably disgruntled expression. "I'm hilarious, what can I say?"

Jack's gaze dropped to her lips, his own quirking up. "You're something alright..."

The movie was all but forgotten as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning over her tingling lips. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut in anticipation and—

A bloodcurdling scream from the TV made them both start violently. Jack instinctively shielded Y/N, his solid weight pressing her deeper into the plush cushions as they both dissolved into laughter.

"Okay, okay!" Jack relented, rolling off her with a rueful chuckle. "You win, you scared the crap out of me. Put on a nice, safe comedy next, deal?"

Giggling, Y/N cuddled into his side once more, feeling warm and content. "Deal.”

…

22:07pm

The credits rolled after the satisfying final scene of The Autopsy of Jane Doe, but Y/N could barely focus - she was too busy trying to stifle her laughter at Jack's adorably petulant expression.

True to his word, he had stubbornly refused to utter a single word since halfway through the movie when Y/N's teasing over his reactions had reached epic proportions. While she had to admit the sight of the usually charismatic and smooth-talking Jack huddled under a blanket was priceless, the silent treatment was starting to make her feel a tad guilty.

"Aw, c'mon grumpy pants," she cajoled, shuffling closer and poking his firm bicep. "Don't be mad. I was just messing with you!"

Jack remained resolutely quiet, his chiseled jaw set in a mulish line as he stared straight ahead at the TV.

Biting her lip, Y/N trailed her fingers along the sculpted line of his arm, feeling the hard muscle there. "You know...the strong, silent type is pretty hot." She batted her lashes at him coyly. "Very brooding and mysterious."

A muscle in Jack's cheek twitched ever so slightly, but he didn't react further. Undeterred, Y/N let her roaming hand travel up to the nape of his neck, nails grazing the short hairs there in the way she knew drove him wild. "But you know what's even hotter?" she breathed, lips almost brushing the shell of his ear.

Jack swallowed hard but stayed frustratingly silent.

"A guy who can play it cool..." Y/N continued in a sultry murmur, throwing one leg over Jack's lap to straddle him. She felt him tense beneath her as she leaned in closer, her lips a hair's breadth from his. "But who can't resist losing control when I do...this..."

Tangling her fingers in those ridiculously soft locks of his, Y/N slanted her mouth over Jack's in a searing, scorching kiss. For a beat, he was motionless - then with a muffled groan, his arms came up to crush her against him, one hand spanning her lower back while the other cupped her neck to angle her head for deeper access.

When they finally broke apart, twin looks of dazed arousal and swollen lips, Jack let out a breathy chuckle. "Damnit, woman...that's just not fair."

"All's fair in love and horror movies, babe," Y/N shot back cheekily, reveling in the feel of his heart thudding against her breast. She nuzzled his jaw affectionately. "So, am I forgiven yet?"

"I suppose that's one way to get me to stop giving you the silent treatment," Jack murmured wryly, his warm palm skimming up and down her back.

"Good." Y/N punctuated the word with another lingering kiss. "Because I have so many more ways to make you lose that cool, calm, collected demeanor you try so hard to maintain around me..."

The low, rumbling groan that earned from the man beneath her sent tingles of delight racing through Y/N's veins. Suddenly, the credits faded to black as the TV shut off - but neither of them cared one bit.

Y/N shivered as Jack's hands roamed boldly along her curves, his touch like a blazing trail across her heated skin. His lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, teeth grazing teasingly.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His gravelly murmur had desire coiling low in her belly. "All I want is to make you mine in every way possible."

She whimpered softly as his kisses trailed down the column of her throat. "Jack...I'm already yours. You know how much I like you."

He pulled back just enough to pin her with an intense, molten stare. "Say it again."

Y/N reached up to trace the chiseled line of his jaw, reveling in the rough rasp of his five o'clock shadow. "I'm yours, Jack. All yours."

A primal sound rumbled from deep within his chest as he surged forward to slant his mouth over hers again. This kiss was all-consuming fierceness, stealing her breath and setting her nerve endings alight.

When he finally tore his lips away, Jack pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath fanning over her tingling mouth. "You have no idea what those words do to me, baby."

"Show me," Y/N challenged breathlessly, tugging him back down for another scorching kiss.

Jack groaned into her mouth as her nails raked through his hair. "You're playing with fire, sun." His hands drifted under the hem of her shirt, calloused palms blazing a path along her sides. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Hooking one leg around his hips, Y/N rocked teasingly against the undeniable evidence of his arousal, earning a guttural curse from Jack's lips. "What do you think?" she whispered.

That seemed to snap the tenuous restraint Jack had been clinging to. With a low, feral growl, he grasped her thighs and surged to his feet in one fluid motion, carrying her towards the bedroom as she squealed with surprise and delight.

"Jack! What are you--mmph..."

His mouth slanted over hers again, effectively swallowing the rest of her words in a heated kiss that had her toes curling. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with naked want. "I'll show you exactly what I want, gorgeous. And this time..." He emphasized the words with a firm roll of his hips, drawing a strangled whimper from Y/N's lips. "You're not going to be doing any teasing."

Y/N's heart raced as Jack's heated kisses trailed along her jawline. She wanted this - god, did she want him - but a fluttering tendril of nervousness unfurled in her belly. This was new territory for them.

When he suddenly grasped her thighs and stood, carrying her towards the bedroom, she squeaked in surprise. "Jack! What are you--"

His searing kiss swallowed the rest of her words as he walked them down the hallway. Breaking apart, Y/N managed to breathe out, "Third door on the left..."

Jack's brow furrowed slightly at the waver in her tone, but he followed her directions until they tumbled onto her bed in a heated tangle of limbs.

Pinning her with those scorching blue eyes, he cupped her cheek tenderly. "You okay, sunshine? We can slow down if you need to."

Y/N's breath hitched at the concern in his voice, the nervousness in her gut blossoming into a warm glow. Leaning up to brush her lips against his, she murmured, "I'm okay, I promise. Just...it's been awhile for me and you mean so much to me, Jack. I don't want to mess this up."

The rough pad of his thumb stroked her flushed cheek as he gazed down at her with undisguised adoration. "You could never mess this up, baby. We'll go as slow as you need, okay?" He punctuated the words with another lingering kiss.

Some of the nervous tension in Y/N's body eased at his reassuring words. Winding her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and aching.

When they finally parted, Jack rested his forehead against hers. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," she answered honestly, feeling more sure now. She brushed her fingers through his tousled hair. "I want this. I want you, Jack...so badly. Please..."

The low groan he let out at her ardent whispers had heat licking through her veins. "You're going to be the death of me, woman," he rasped, settling his weight more firmly against her.

Then with a crooked grin, he asked in a tone laced with sin, "Now...where were we?"

Hooking one leg around his hips, Y/N pulled him closer until they were flush against each other, relishing in his full body shudder. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip teasingly. "I believe you were showing me what you wanted..."

…

9:12am

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, Y/N stirred from her slumber to the gentle touch of Jack's lips upon her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile gracing her face as she murmured before she'd even opened her eyes. "Good morning, Jack."

He leaned over her, his warm breath caressing her skin as he whispered, “Good morning, sleepy.” Jack grinned at her, all tousled bedhead and sparkling eyes. Shifting closer, he rested his head on her chest, letting his palm skim over her stomach in a tender caress.

Y/N stilled, nerves fluttering in her belly. She knew the small swell there wasn't noticeable yet, but the thought of Jack discovering her secret terrified her. She would tell him soon - but for now, she just wanted to bask in Jack's love and affection, pushing everything else aside.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" Jack's concerned murmur broke through her thoughts. "Do I make you nervous?"

He tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, but Y/N couldn't shake the rising tide of anxiety. Almost involuntarily, her hand drifted to rest over her belly, cradling it protectively.

Jack's eyes tracked the movement, a small crease appearing between his brows. Biting her lip, Y/N forced a reassuring smile, not wanting to ruin their blissful morning just yet. "Nothing, I'm okay. Just...really happy to wake up with you here."

The crinkles by Jack's eyes deepened as his grin widened. "Me too, baby.”

Before he could say anything more, Y/N brushed off her nerves with a shake of her head, pulling his face up to hers. She showered him with kisses, her lips trailing across his face and neck. His touch was intoxicating, making her forget her worries for the moment.

Smoothing back her tousled hair, Jack held her gaze intently. "I really like you, you know that?" He murmured, pure sincerity ringing in his voice. "Waking up with you in my arms is everything I've ever wanted."

…

19:51pm

Two days later…

Y/N hummed along to the spectators commentary as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She was in the zone, the fictional world of her romance novel unfolding vividly in her mind's eye.

She read over the last few paragraphs she had written, her eyes skimming over the description of the protagonist's first meeting with her love interest.

It reminded Y/N of her own first encounter with Jack, the way his intense gaze had sent shivers down her spine, the way his rumbling voice had made her heart flutter in her chest.

A loud cheer from the TV made her jump, almost upending her coffee mug. Right, the Rangers game was on in the background. She shot a brief glance at the screen to see the Devils had scored again. Biting her lip, Y/N quickly typed out another paragraph before risking another look.

There was Jack, skating hard across the ice, that familiar intense expression etched onto his ruggedly handsome features.

Y/N turned up the volume slightly, smiling as she watched Jack deftly steal the puck and take off towards the opposing goal. That smile quickly turned into a wince, however, when a burly Rangers player body-checked Jack viciously from behind, sending him crashing hard into the boards.

"Son of a bitch!" Y/N shot to her feet, coffee completely forgotten, as the announcers' voices rose in a blend of shock and anger.

On screen, Jack had rolled to his knees, shaking off the brutal hit. But then he was lunging right back at the offending player, throwing wild haymakers as the two men tumbled to the ice in an all-out brawl.

Her attention was wholly captured by the scene unfolding on the television screen. Jack's gloved fist connected with the other player's jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The Rangers player quickly retaliated, and within seconds, the two were engaged in a full-blown fight on the ice.

Gloves and helmets were discarded as punches were thrown, each man trying to gain the upper hand. Y/N's heart raced as she watched Jack, his jersey torn and his face bruised, continue to trade blows with his opponent. She knew he could hold his own, but that didn't stop the worry from gnawing at her insides.

After what felt like an eternity, the referees finally managed to separate the two men, each one still struggling against their grip. That sinking feeling of dread intensified when she saw Jack being led off towards the locker room, one hand pressed to his ribs while the other hung limply at his side.

Grabbing her phone, she hurriedly dialed his number - straight to voicemail. A cold knot twisted in the pit of her stomach as she watched replay after replay of the ugly fight. She knew Jack could handle himself, but nightmare scenarios still played through her mind on a terrifying loop.

Y/N shook her head forcefully, cutting off that threatening spiral of panic. She needed to stay calm until she could get in touch with Jack or his coach. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she willed her racing heart to slow as she fixed her gaze on the TV once more.

She began pacing frantically back and forth across her office, the romance novel on her desk completely forgotten, heart pounding in her ears as she clutched the phone with a white-knuckled grip to her face.

"Heather, you didn't see it! That guy obliterated Jack from behind - it was like he had zero regard for his safety!" She paused to take a shuddering breath, chest tight with panic. "And then Jack just...snapped. I've never seen him fight before."

"Woah, woah, slow down hon." Her best friend's soothing tones filtered through the line. "Jack's a tough guy, you know that. I'm sure he can handle himself just fine."

"You didn't see the way he went down though," Y/N whispered, the image of Jack's crumpled form seared into her brain. Her free hand drifted unconsciously to cradle her stomach. "What if he's really hurt? What if—"

The shrill ring of her phone's second line cut her off. Glancing at the caller ID, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. It was Jack.

"Oh god, Heather, it's him! I gotta go." Not waiting for a reply, she quickly switched over. "Jack? Baby, are you okay?"

A pained grunt was her first reply, causing Y/N's heart to lurch violently. When Jack finally spoke, his voice was low and strained. "Hey sunshine...I'm okay, I promise. Well, okay-ish."

Y/N sank shakily onto the couch, knees wobbly with relief just from hearing his voice. "Where are you? What happened after they took you off the ice?"

"Still at the arena." Jack's measured inhale hissed across the line. "Got checked out by the trainers...possible fracture or two and lots of swelling. They want me to go get fully examined at the hospital though, make sure there's no internal bleeding or anything."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/N willed back the frightened tears pricking her eyes. Jack sounded pained but coherent — a good sign. "I'm coming to the hospital right now."

"No, no don't do that." Jack's tone softened, taking on that tender, coaxing quality he knew could instantly soothe her. "I'm gonna get all checked out and as soon as they clear me, I'll come straight to you. Just want to curl up on that cozy couch, eat something greasy, and cuddle my favorite girl, okay?"

A tremulous smile curved Y/N's lips at the thought, warmth blossoming in her chest. Even when injured, Jack knew just what to say to calm her raging emotions. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

"I know you will, baby." The smile was evident in his voice now. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Maybe, uh, just prepare yourself to be smothered in kisses in advance?"

Y/N huffed out a watery chuckle, swiping at the dampness on her cheeks. "I'll get the first aid kit ready, tough guy. Just...take care of yourself first, okay?”

The call disconnected with a soft click. Setting the phone aside, Y/N took a deep, steadying breath, absently cradling her belly once more. Jack would be home soon — bruised and battered, but mercifully not catastrophically injured.

…

2:35am

After a grueling two days in the hospital, Jack was finally released, his body aching but his heart longing for the comfort of home and the warmth of Y/N's embrace. He drove through the quiet streets, the anticipation building with every mile that brought him closer to her.

It was late when he arrived at her home, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the windows. He crept silently through the door, careful not to wake Y/N who he assumed was already in bed. As he made his way to their bedroom, he couldn't help but smile at the sight that greeted him.

Y/N lay curled up on their bed, her laptop still open beside her, the screen illuminating her peaceful face. Jack's heart swelled with love as he watched her, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. He knew she must have been waiting up for him, working on her novel to distract herself from her worry.

Quietly, he changed into his pajamas and eased himself into bed beside her, pulling the covers over them both, the soft fabric enveloping them in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. he settled in, gently wrapping his arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her close to his chest.

Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she felt Jack's presence. "Jack?" she mumbled sleepily, her voice soft and heavy with exhaustion.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "Go back to sleep, my love."

Y/N sighed contentedly, snuggling back into Jack's embrace. She intertwined her fingers with his, reveling in the feeling of his strong arms around her. He wanted to wake up to her beautiful face every morning.

With that thought in mind, he pulled her even closer, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her comforting scent. Tomorrow, he would surprise her with the news of the romantic getaway he had planned, a chance for them to escape the chaos of their lives and focus on nothing but each other.

…

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691, @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3, @skepvids, @urbanflorals, @hischierswhore, @literatureluster, @voidohanax, @ivy-34,

[sunnylands-world]

as someone who also thinks aidan deserves more apprietiation, can you do one where the reader has really cold hand all the time and he has to warm them up? orrr same cold handed reader suddenly has warm hands and he's like ".....wtF?! warming your hand was MY job dummy 🙄😥...wait who did it for you?!"

Lover's hands

Pairing: Aidan x fem reader

Summary: Aidan's out of town and he's expecting to come back and find everything just the way it was before but when he comes back he walks in on his worst nightmare, you replacing him…

Word count: 711

Warning: jealous Aidan, weird coworkers, reader has cold hands

Universe: celebrity

A/n: sorry for the wait hope you like it though

Nice thought, reblogs, and inboxing is appreciated and motivational ❤️

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The winter was extremely cold and you were glad you had Aidan to keep you warm in more than one way. Whether it was kisses on your forehead from his warm lips as the air blew or hugs when you stood in places long or simply his hand holding yours to keep your fingers from becoming popsicles. he'd scolded you about forgetting your gloves but you still did, partially by accident and partially on purpose.

Something about his hand in yours as the sky rained snowflakes and the ground covered in a light coat of fluffy white Ice.

He'd been gone for a bit so your hands began to chill till you blew puffs of air against them.

It wasn't until your friend Matt from work offered you his hand teaching you a method to keep them warm. It was a foreign feeling having someone else keep your small hands warm because that was just… Aidan's thing.

When Aidan did finally come back he spotted you with Matt planning to surprise you. Aidan had a…neutral relationship with him. He didn't like him but tolerated him nevertheless because you worked with him and nothing he felt was worth you losing your job because you loved working at the small coffee shop. Matt was very flirty with you and Aidan noticed, even if you didn't.

For some reason you had self doubts no matter how many times Aidan tried to show you how he saw you through his eyes. As Aidan stepped closer he noticed your hands resting in Matt's as he gave you a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischievousness and his smile didn't seem as sweet as he tried to make it look… or maybe he was just jealous.

Aidan didn't exactly tell you that he admired his fingers being laced with yours but he'd hoped his slight squeezes and circle rubs meant something to you. He tried to mask his anger and hurt as he walked over making you smile and jump into him for a hug. He hugged you back thinking of what to say as you loosen your hold on him.

"You and Matt having fun?" he asked sarcastically, his voice dripping with jealousy

Great job Aidan.

Before words even got out from you Matt interjected.

"Yeah! isn't that right sunshine?" He said to you more than Aidan pressing a kiss to your cold hand. Aidan clenched his jaw

"I was teaching her a technique to keep her tiny little hands warm. She said you usually keep them warm but you weren't here, poor baby…so I taught her another way!" He grinned. Aidan looked over to you seeing your eyes filled with worry…or was it guilt.

"I think that's enough, I'll take it from here," Aidan said, reaching his hand out for yours. You nodded timidly, standing to your feet but matt locked his fingers with yours stopping you from leaving fully.

"Matt let go of my girlfriend's hand…now," Aidan urged but Matt ignored him, looking in your direction.

"Do you wanna go sunshine?" He asked, giving you puppy eyes but you nodded with a firm yes.

He let go still staring to the point where it turned creepy as Aidan walked you out of the store, his hand tucking yours and his in his coat pocket.

"So I see you and Matt were getting quite comfortable with each other," he announced.

"He's my co-worker Aidan."

"Yeah because people hold hands with their coworkers all the time!" He said, rolling his eyes.

"Aidan, are you upset I let matt keep my hands warm?" You teased, on the verge of laughter.

"Okay, Yes I was jealous! but that's my thing! it makes me feel like I'm showing you the small things you know? Caring if you're cold and what not," he confirmed. You giggled, making a slight smile pull at the corner of Aidan's lips.

"Aidan, I know you care about the little things which is why you're the one I trust with everything. And for the record Matt is a terrible hand warmer. I prefer my boyfriend's way," you said, looking forward.

Aidan smiled letting out a sigh, he didn't know why he was worried about it when he knew in the end you'd always choose him.

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[chunniwritesalot]

mrs. alonso - fa14 smau - part 4a

was it really a family vacation without a bit of drama? (part 1 of this)

part 1 - part 3 - part 3 - part 4a HELLOOOO- read these CHARACTER PAGES (coming soon!) for more information on the new character's introduced! yes bro uppercase because i have to go get into uni mode - HUGE HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @eywas-heir because she is actually the brains behind this entire operation and i love her very very much <3

Ilian Alonso

Francesca Alonso

cw: cursing (maybe i forget), fernando being a FREAK on main, sprinkle of angst

wc: a lot

fernando and y/n have been married for 18 years now, but their love has been the same since they met 26 years ago.

information: spanish speaking! reader, fem! reader, you have 2 daughters- one is 18 and one is 5. you and claire ann stroll are best friends! this is really just how i see old people using social medias 😭

fran or francesca is your OLDER daughter and rubi is your YOUNGER daughter and ilian or ili is your NIECE (same age as fran) ALSOOOO if it says 'ina' instead of 'ili or ilian' please let me know- ina and ili are the same people but we changed the name half way through :)!

-start-

“MAMA!!” Francesca called out, “ILI AND I ARE GOING!”

“AH ¡Espérame! (Wait for me!)” Y/n rushed down the stairs of the AirBnB. She frowned at the two girls while putting in her earrings. “You were going to leave with me? I gave birth to you!”

Fran raised an eyebrow and shared a sideways glance with Ilian. “You didn’t give birth to Ili..” She pointed out, motioning to her best friend and cousin. Y/n rolled her eyes and scoffed,

“I might as well have! She’s my daughter as well!” Y/n walked over to Ili, her arms outstretched to hug the younger. Ilian wrapped her arms around Mrs. Alonso almost immediately, relishing in the warm embrace.

“Ay whatever…” Fran mumbled as she slipped on her flip flops. She eyed the two, still hugging each other and scoffed, “Are we done? The UV is 8 and I want to tan!”

Ilian pulled away from Mama Alonso, also slipping her flipflops on. “Fran… you are tan..” She said, furrowing her eyebrows. Y/n shrugged at her daughter’s actions and called out to Rubi. The 5 year old waddled downstairs, holding a bucket and spade and wearing her mother’s sunglasses.

“Ah wow Rubi, luciendo muy elegante (Ah wow Rubi, looking very elegant)" Y/n grinned, crouching down to her daughter’s height. Rubi giggled, throwing herself onto her mother, who scooped her up immediately.

“Okay! Are we ready now?” Ili clapped, holding the door open. The girls cheered and made their way to the beach, where everyone else was.

AT THE BEACH

“Oscar you’re looking.. burnt..” Lando giggled, slapping the Aussie’s red back. Oscar jumped, turning around to face the Brit.

“Ow! Fuck off mate” Oscar hissed, reaching his hand around to rub the spot where Lando slapped him. Logan looked up from the sandcastle that Rubi and him were making to laugh at his best friend,

“Language, Oscar. There’s a five year old!” He reminded his friend. Oscar’s eyes widened and looked down at Rubi, who was looking back at him with a mischievous grin.

“Fuck!” She repeated, clapping her hands together. Logan, Lando, and Oscar all gasped and started to educate Rubi about how that was a bad word.

Near the bar, Max and Y/n were in a very intense conversation about the school system.

“It’s getting very hard for me to teach Rubi…” Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples, “The material is very advanced nowadays.”

Max nodded in sympathy, shaking his head in disappointment as he agreed with her. He took a sip of his nonalcoholic drink and huffed, “I totally agree, Mrs. Alonso! It’s getting way too hard, no wonder students are saying they’re too stressed.”

As the two concerned parents spoke, Fernando and Lewis set up their towels right next to each other, smiling at one another as they both laid down and sighed in content.

“Ayyy this is just what I needed” Nando said as he shut his eyes to bask in the sun. Lewis nodded, doing the same as Aston Martin driver.

—

franalo14 has posted…

liked by y/nalonso, lilialo13, fernandoalo_official, landonorris, logansargeant, olliebearman, and 30,678 others

franalo14 mama mia! 🇬🇷🧿☀️

tagged: @/ilialo13, @/y/nalonso, @/fernandoalo_official, @/lewishamilton, @/oscarpiastri, @/logansargeant, @/maxverstappen1, @/lilynziemer, @/kellypiquet, @/landonorris, @/carmenmundnt, @/george_russell, @/lance_stroll, @/claireannstroll, @/chloestroll

y/nalonso L.O.L!😹😹Beat me to posting the pics📸…speaking of which…🤕🤕please help me…😩😩😩🥹🥹🥹🥹

franalo14 what the hell mama

ilialo13 i look so good here

ilialo13 not ollie bearman in the likes, whats going on?

user1 ILIAN JUST LIKE US FRRR

user2 im new to f1, who is ilian?

user3 ilian or ili is an f2 driver for hitech- she is cousins with the alonso's (i think shes on mrs. alonso's side) so she's often with them. she isn't that present on social media and all her accounts are controlled by her PR team, but her @/ilialo13 account is her private and personal account :) her main account is @/ilian_alonso user2 thank you!

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—

“George please put on a shirt” Fran gagged at the Mercedes driver who was in the kitchen. Georgie grinned, turning to Fran with a devious look.

“I didnt pack any!” He chimed, taking a bite of his sandwich. Ilian walked into the kitchen at the same time, raising an eyebrow at the exchange. She slumped into the island chair, pulling out her phone and frowning.

“George” Ili sighed, looking at the man, “How long am I going to have to wait.”

George frowned, “Wait for what, Ils?”

“For a seat, it’s just…” Ilian sighed, turning off her phone. “I don’t think anyone… believes in me or anything”

Fran’s eyebrows furrowed and she glanced at her cousin, “Why would you say that? We all believe in you.”

Ili shook her head, “It’s just… so exhausting- I see all these rookies getting seats as soon as they join F2 or even F3 and I’ve been there for almost 3 seasons!”

“Been in what for 3 seasons?” Y/n asked as she walked into the kitchen, she glanced at George’s shirtless figure and frowned but ignored it. She stood next to Ilian, rubbing the younger girls back soothingly. “What are we talking about?”

“Nothing.” Ili said quickly, “A show.” She added so it wasn’t suspicious.

Fran raised an eyebrow, sharing a sideways glance with George but didn’t say anything. She knew how protective her mother could get, and Ilian probably didn’t want to sit through a 30 minute lecture about how amazing she was.

“Oh..kay” Y/n shrugged, turning to the fridge and opening it, sorting through the food. She looked back at George and frowned again, “Please put on a shirt, dear.”

George’s mouth opened in shock before sulking out of the kitchen, grumbling on how no one enjoyed his shirtless figure.

—

y/nalonso has posted

liked by olliebearman, ilialo13, ilian_alonso, franalo14, fernandoalo_official, logansargeant, lance_stroll, and 815,979 others

y/nalonso 🇬🇷Pics! País hermoso, siempre volvería...

(translation: Greece photos! Beautiful country, would go there always...)

ilialo13 wahh... tía, ¿por qué publicaste fotos tan feas de mí? 😭😭 (translation: wow.. tia, why would you post these photos of me?)

franalo14 AY no tienes derecho a hablar, mira las innumerables violaciones que he sufrido 😨😨 (translation: you have no room to speak, look at the photos she posted of ME) y/nalonso ¿Qué? ¡Ustedes dos se ven tan bien! (translation: What?! you two looks amazing!)

landonorris 10/10 would go on vacation with the alonso's again

user1 wait im so lost why is the entire grid on vacation with the alonso's... y/nalonso Family Vacation🤪😜👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 user2 THE EMOJIS ARE ACTUALLY TAKING ME OUT

alex_albon can't believe i missed this... 😔

lilymhi Hello...? you were with me.. franalo14 BROOO alexander if you dont treat your girl right I WILL 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 alex_albon @/franalo14 please get checked into a psych ward! you crazy bitch! lilymhi don't talk to my girlfriend like that @/alex_albon... you don't want my smoke user3 NOT ALEX CATCHING STRAYSSS HELPPPP y/nalonso Be nice, please....thank you😘...Lily please come next time, if Alex is bothering you I will talk to him🤬😡...contact my number🤪

fernandoalo_official Next time lets vacation alone...😏😘😳

y/nalonso 😲😏🥵 user4 what is this freakshow... franalo14 haha ending my life!! ilialo13 WHAT THE FUCK.

lewishamilton Breathtaking place! Thanks for the invite 😉

fernandoalo_official Lewis, let's go back- just you and me😏🥵 lewishamilton What are you entailing mate... user5 fernando 🚫 freaknando ✅

load more comments...?

-end of part 4 a-

stay tuned for part b of this! i decided to split it up :) another huge thanks to @eywas-heir

[sushiyuzu]

Yo! Since you want to try to place orders, then I have one:I thought of the characters Yuta Okkotsu and Megumi for this, but you can choose others at your discretion.It would be separately with a male reader, in which they would already be in a relationship. My idea was for the reader to make cornrows in his partner's hair when he was bored and also to enjoy physical affection a lot, always giving them hugs, holding their hands, arms, and kissing them on the cheek (when he wanted to receive one kiss in the cheek, he would turn his face and close his eyes while waiting).He would also have a habit of greeting people by leaning his forehead against hers!!

braiding love

warning: fluff — making cornrows in yuta's and gumi's hair !

a/n: hey! 😊 thank you so much for your request, it was my first time receiving and doing one, and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you enjoy the fic and that it brings you all the fluff and warmth you were looking for. feel free to reach out anytime if you have more ideas! 💖

yuta okkotsu

you’re sitting together on the couch, your legs draped over yuta's lap as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his dark hair. yuta is used to your affection by now—the way you’re always holding his hand, pulling him close for a hug, or planting soft kisses on his cheek whenever the moment strikes you. but today, there’s a different kind of focus in your touch.

“stay still for me, babe,” you murmur, gently tugging his hair into sections.

yuta chuckles softly, leaning back into your hands, completely at ease with whatever you’re up to. “what are you doing?” his voice is warm, curious but unbothered. he loves when you give him this kind of attention, loves how you always find ways to be close to him.

“just gonna braid your hair,” you explain casually, your fingers working quickly as you start forming small cornrows along the side of his head. “i’m bored, and you’ve got so much hair—it’s perfect.”

he blinks, taken aback for a second. “cornrows?” he repeats, looking up at you with a bit of surprise, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “i didn’t know you could do that.”

“i’ve got skills, you know,” you say with a wink, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before focusing back on your task. “and i like playing with your hair.”

yuta hums contentedly, closing his eyes as your fingers move gently through his locks. the steady, rhythmic tugging of your fingers feels soothing, and he relaxes further into your lap. it’s one of the things he loves most about being with you—how you always find ways to make him feel cared for, even in the smallest gestures.

as you work, you lean forward and rest your forehead against his for a moment, a soft greeting that’s become a habit between you two. yuta opens his eyes briefly, his smile widening as your skin touches his.

“you’re so affectionate,” he teases, his voice low but full of affection. “not that i mind.”

you grin, your breath warm against his lips. “you better not mind. i’m never gonna stop, you know.”

he chuckles softly, his hands moving to rest on your thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze. “good,” he says, his voice tender. “i wouldn’t want you to.”

once you finish the last braid, you pull back to admire your work, running your fingers lightly over his scalp. yuta opens his eyes and glances at his reflection in the window, raising an eyebrow with a grin.

“how do i look?” he asks, his tone playful.

“amazing,” you say, leaning down to press another kiss to his cheek. “but you always do.”

yuta laughs softly, turning his face toward you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “if you’re gonna kiss me, do it right,” he says, tilting his face and closing his eyes, clearly waiting for a kiss on the cheek this time.

you can’t help but smile, leaning in and capturing his red cheek in a slow, gentle kiss. his hand reaches up to cup the side of your face, pulling you closer. when you finally pull away, he’s smiling up at you, his eyes shining with warmth.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “for everything.”

megumi fushiguro

megumi’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the edge of the bed as you kneel behind him, your hands moving through his messy hair. he’s always been the type to sit quietly and let you dote on him, even if he doesn’t openly admit how much he loves it. but you know by the way he leans into your touch, how his posture relaxes and his eyes soften whenever you’re close.

“you’re really quiet today,” you tease, threading your fingers through his hair as you separate it into neat sections.

megumi grunts in response, but there’s a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “i didn’t know you liked doing hair,” he says, his voice low and calm. “i thought you just liked hugging me all the time.”

you smirk, playfully tugging at a strand of his hair. “i like both. and besides, you have good hair—i’m surprised i haven’t braided it sooner.”

megumi huffs out a soft laugh, his head tilting slightly back to rest against your chest. “i guess i’ll allow it, then,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. but you can hear the warmth in his tone, the way he’s secretly enjoying the attention, even if he’s too shy to admit it outright.

your fingers work quickly as you start to weave his hair into small, tight cornrows, occasionally pausing to run your fingers over his scalp, massaging gently as you go. megumi’s always been a little stiff with physical affection, but he’s learned to relax when it’s just the two of you. you’ve made sure of that.

“you’re really good at this,” he says quietly, surprising you. megumi isn’t one to hand out compliments easily, especially when it comes to himself.

“i’m full of surprises,” you say with a grin, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “i’ll have to braid your hair more often.”

he hums in response, his eyes closed as he leans into your touch. you can feel the tension slowly leaving his body, his usual seriousness melting away as he lets himself relax under your care.

“and i’m gonna keep hugging you all the time, by the way,” you add, moving to braid another section of his hair. “get used to it.”

megumi chuckles softly, a sound that’s rare but always makes your heart flutter. “i am used to it,” he admits quietly. “you’re the only one who does that.”

your hands still for a moment, and you smile down at him, warmth flooding your chest. without thinking, you lean forward, resting your forehead against his for a moment, the gesture soft and intimate.

megumi opens his eyes slightly, looking up at you, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of color. but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he leans into the touch, his forehead pressing back against yours in a silent greeting that says more than words ever could.

“you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, his voice quiet but fond.

“you love it,” you tease, giving his hair one final tug as you finish the last braid.

megumi turns his face slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a soft intensity. “yeah,” he says after a moment, his voice barely audible. “i do.”

there’s a moment of quiet between you, the air thick with something unspoken. and then, megumi surprises you again—he turns his face, closing his eyes, and leans in expectantly, waiting for the kiss you’ve made him so accustomed to.

you grin, your heart swelling as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his cheek. his lips twitch into a small smile, and you can’t help but feel proud of how much he’s opened up to you, how much trust he’s placed in your hands.

“you’re getting bold,” you tease, ruffling his hair lightly.

megumi rolls his eyes, but the smile never leaves his face. “only with you,” he mutters, his voice soft but full of affection.

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Omgg hii i love love love ur page and ive been following for a while now yea😻 and i wanted to request a fic about Ran Haitani’s gf cooking something for him and he is NOT leaving her aline and it kind of a turns into a chaotic yet sweet moment🤭🤭 Its absolutely okay if u dont want to and u can just ignore this its okay i just wanted to ask anyways!!

Of course babes, I love you guys sm

Ran x reader, Chaotic but sweet love

It was always,

Hey, I got this for you.

I Thought you'd look cute in this so I got it.

Those reminded me of you so I ordered them.

It was his love language, you found yourself surrounded with gifts from Ran. He didn't think twice before buying you something that made you smile. It was always worth it, the way you smiled and your eyes lit up at the sight. The way you would giggle before saying,

"Gosh, Ran, where am I gonna put all of this? I barely have space in my room. You're so adorable baby, thank you."

The way he would melt like an ice cream on a summer day, at your words. After that he'd buy you more gifts just so you can baby him and cuddle him. It was his favorite thing in the world. He loved sleeping but you know what's even better. Sleeping beside you and holding you. But, you needed to surprise him with something also. It couldn't be just him giving and never receiving any special event in return, right?

So, your first idea is to make him breakfast in bed! After sneaking out of bed, making sure to be extra quiet so as not to wake him up. You quietly sprinted to the kitchen to start on your surprise which unfortunately, didn't last long. Womp Womp

You were in the kitchen for quite some time, before Ran started to notice his empty bed and lost warmth. He moves his hand around searching for you, he huffs and puffs when he realizes he woke up in a bed without you. Throwing the covers to the side and setting up, he stretched and then it hit him, he smelled something...was something burning?

OHMYGOSH, WHAT HAPPEN I ONLY LEFT TO USE THE BATHROOM!!

Before you could do something, anything, you heard fast footsteps coming near you. You feel disappointed and downhearted when you realize what had started out as a cute surprise to repay your awesome boyfriend turned into an almost death by fire case on the news this morning.

"Y/n, what the hell is going on?" He sighed, still drowsy, as he put the fire out. He looked groggy and tired. You didn't mean to wake him up in such a bad way,

Despite your attempt to seem fine, the subtle quiver, an involuntary tremor that betrayed your underlying emotions. "Ran, I'm sorry. I just can't do anything right, can I."

That seemed to snap him out of it. With a compassionate gaze, he approached you, wrapping her arms around you in a warm, protective embrace. The world faded away as the strength of the hug conveyed both solace and understanding. In that simple gesture, words became unnecessary, and the shared warmth offered a comforting haven.

"I just wanted to make you breakfast in bed, I didn't mean to wake up in such a horrible way, I'm really sorry." You muttered as you managed to say between short breaths and sniffles.

"You're so sweet." He leaned in, your lips meeting for a swift dance, It was a quick, stolen moment filled with the electricity of shared desire.

"Do you want me to help you? Can we make it together?" He suggested, cupping your face gently and squishing your cheeks.

You nodded, rubbing your eyes and sniffling one last time.

Some time later, you've come to regret ✨cooking with ran ✨ because what you didn't realize was Ran couldn't take anything seriously.

"Y/n, catch!" Ran who was Grinning mischievously, and his eyes sparkled with cheekiness as he threw you the eggs.

'Wait, NO!" You couldn't catch them in time earning a beautiful Picasso painting on your wall made of...eggs. your eye twitches involuntarily, a tiny but visible sign of growing irritation.

"Ran, get the fuck out." your brows furrowed, and a subtle scowl etched across your face as irritation took hold and you grabbed a wooden spoon.

"I'll give you until the count of three." You threatened,

He leaned against the fridge, a playful smirk on his face,

"No ♡"

You chucked the wooden spoon, earning a laughter from ran, that echoed, injecting a playful vibe into the atmosphere, turning even the mundane into a delightful game. Your awful aim didn't grant you any luck either, as the wooden spoon hit the milk carton causing it to splatter all over the floor.

"Fucking hell, that was too good, you should've seen your face...also you're totally gonna clean this up." He deadpanned when his laughter died out.

"Kiss my ass." You instantly replied.

"Heh, sure thing baby. You do have a nice backside." He winked, receiving your raised hand with a swift and deliberate motion, of flicking him off.

[eijisnotebook]

Best friend! Grelle Sutcliffe x Depressed!GN! Reader <3

I just like her a lot and I think she's beautiful, so here's a oneshot I wrote about her!

⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+(This is also written on my Wattpad, the first chapter of my Grelle one shots book)｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+⁠*⁠.⁠✧—⁠☆

The world feels like it’s drained of color, like someone turned down the vibrancy of everything around you. You sit alone in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the patterns of light and shadow dancing across the walls as the sun sets outside. There’s an ache in your chest, a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe, let alone smile.

A sudden, loud knock at the door startles you. You hesitate, wondering if you can find the energy to respond. But the knock comes again, this time followed by an unmistakable voice,

"Oh, darling, don’t leave me waiting out here! I might faint from the indignity!”

You can’t help the small, reluctant smile that tugs at your lips as you stand and head to the door, opening it to reveal Grelle Sutcliffe in all her flashy, bold glory. Her red coat, vibrant hair, and crimson lipstick make her look like she’s stepped out of another world and brought its color with her.

Without waiting for an invitation, Grelle steps inside, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the state of your apartment—and of you. She softens instantly, closing the door behind her with an unusually gentle touch. “Oh, darling,” she murmurs, her gaze tender. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

You sigh, feeling exhaustion settle deeper into your bones. “It… feels like that,” you admit quietly, not meeting her eyes.

In a rare moment of silence, Grelle reaches out, pulling you into a warm, unexpected hug. She smells like roses and something deeper, like the warmth of a bonfire. She holds you tight, letting you simply exist in that comforting embrace.

After a moment, she pulls back, one hand lingering on your shoulder as she looks you over with a look of fierce protectiveness. “You know, I have impeccable taste, and I choose my friends wisely,” she says with a small smile. “Which means I can say, without a doubt, that you’re magnificent—even if you can’t see it right now."

Her words cut through the fog surrounding you, and something in her expression tells you she’s not just saying this out of kindness. She means every word.

Grelle grabs your hand, her eyes twinkling with the glimmer of an idea. “Come with me, love. Just for a little while. Let me show you a piece of the world through my eyes.”

Before you can protest, she’s pulling you out of the apartment and down the street. You find yourself weaving through the city, her presence beside you a steady anchor. She chats with you about anything and everything—distracting you with wild stories, dramatic commentary, and sly jokes that actually pull a few reluctant laughs from you.

At some point, you end up on a bridge overlooking the city lights, and Grelle leans over the edge, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, darling! All these lights, all this life. You’re a part of this world, and it’s lucky to have you.” Her eyes glimmer as she looks at you. “I’m lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the heavy weight inside you feels lighter, like Grelle has managed to lift it a little with her presence alone. She turns to you with a mischievous smile, her eyes filled with that infectious spark of life.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, I’m coming back, and we’ll do this all over again. I’ll be your annoying, fabulous best friend, and you’ll have to put up with it.” She winks. “Who knows? Maybe tomorrow i can help you see a little bit of what I see in you.”

You can’t help but smile, a real one this time, small but genuine. And as you look at Grelle, standing there in the glow of the city lights, you realize that maybe—just maybe—things won’t always feel so heavy.

And as she pulls you into another fierce hug, you feel that sliver of hope settle in your chest, thanks to the friend who refuses to let you be anything less than cherished.