#and ended up speaking my mind to my mom

[amethystsoda]

wheeeeee family dinner tag rant 🙃

[welcometogrouchland]

Noticing that TV and film will often have a character either have had an abortion in the past that isn't showcased on screen (and just used as part of the character's ~fucked up and twisted backstory~) OR contemplate getting an abortion in the present day but not to through with it. Just once I want to see someone delete that fetus within the events of the plot and not be like. Extremely majorly punished for it and/or be in the wrong

[elboxitracio]

Ugh

[makotoscoffee]

had another nightmare about Art the Clown😔

[nereidprinc3ss]

hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him. 

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened? 

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a  little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough. 

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop. 

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes. 

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him. 

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was. 

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again. 

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again. 

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table. 

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world. 

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms. 

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now. 

[stxxrlights]

#𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

thank you all so much for 500 followers and 1000 reblogs!!! Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ literally a few days ago we reached 400. thank you again. i didn't realize people liked my work. so here's headcanons of husband!nanami. enjoy!!!

husband!nanami who brings you delicious pastries and a big bouquet of your favourite flowers every week without fail because he loves you oh so much. he loves how you always say thank you to him and appreciating him in ways he had never been appreciated before.

husband!nanami who opens the car door for you before you get on or of. he has to be the gentleman he promised to be so don't you dare touch the door, he'll quickly get out of the car and go to your side and open the door for you and offers his hand to help you out too

husband!nanami who carries your heels in his hands as well as your purse because yours tired and your heels are killing you. he always has a pair of flip flops with him just incase this happens which is almost all the time, but he doesn't mind. not one bit

husband!nanami who likes to have you in his arms while he's reading a book. either you're sleeping or on the phone he doesn't care. he claims that he focuses better on the book knowing that you are right next to him in his arms.

husband!nanami who gets flustered when you brush his neck, especially the part closer to his undercut. his neck and ears flashing red and he's unable to look you in the eyes because of your teasing.

husband!nanami who loves to walk up behind you and circle his arms around your waist and rest his cheek on your shoulder as you cook. not speaking a word after a long tiring day of work, he just wants to feel you on him in silence and be happy that he made such an excellent decision of marrying you.

husband!nanami who ends up talking a lot about you to his coworkers when they ask about anything that's related to you. "your lunch looks good. did you make it?". "it was my beautiful wife actually. she'll be pleased to know you said that". just looking for any excuse to show you off.

husband!nanami who is loved by your parents. he makes meaning conversations with your dad and is a help around the house without being asked which your mom absolutely adores. "you should be more like him", your mom says for the hundredth time you've visited them while nanami's washing the dishes.

husband!nanami who let's you know how much he loves. either through words of affirmation, spoiling you with gifts and just doing acts in your favour. you're his favourite person and he wants you to know that making it evident in his words and his actions.

#comments and reblogs are appreciated

[producedbysohyun]

Cuddling

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid games would cuddle you (separate)

Includes: Thanos, In-ho, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju, Mi-na (non!squid game au)

Warnings: might be slightly suggestive at some points.

masterlist

a/n: I love writing these so much! I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I do!!

Thanos

Get ready to be crushed

Lays on-top of you

And does not let you get up for anything

“Let me get up for a second I-“

“No.”

While laying on-top of you he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck or chest

If you do end up getting up he whines until you lay back down

Type of Bf to use your butt or thighs as a pillow 😔✊

Randomly bites you

Has cute aggression 100%

Very deep sleeper

Moves so much in his sleep so if you guys fall asleep cuddling at least one of you is gonna be upside down when you wake up

Will give you pda anytime anywhere he does not care

I’m literally Dr. Seuss

In-ho

Not very big on cuddling

He tolerates it for you tho 😚

Even tho cuddling isn’t really his thing he LOVES when you sit on his lap

Especially when you’re facing him

Also likes when you lay on his chest

Literally just lets you cling to him and do whatever

Acts like he doesn’t care for it but we all know the truth

When he’s tired he just completely lets his guard down

That will probably be the only time he initiates cuddling

Other wise you’re kinda on your own 

Se-mi

Loves laying on your chest !!

Gives you neck kisses when she’s the big spoon 😏

Also a biter

Likes to have you on her lap

Touches your tummy while cuddling

you cannot stop her 😡

Clingiest Gf you can have !!

Takes every opportunity to hug you from behind and just stays like that for as long as possible

When you lay on her chest she likes to play with your hair

Another deep sleeper

Girl will not wake up for anything

If you are in bed with her you better be ready to never leave the bed again once she gets her hands on you

“Babe I need to get up”

“Five more minutessss”

Dae-ho

Most cuddly person ever

Big spoon !!

not so secretly likes being small spoon sometimes

Either rests his head on-top of yours or in your neck

If you guys fall asleep like that expect not to be getting up at all

Literally has a death grip on you

Lays his head on your thighs or chest pt.2

Will fall asleep immediately if you start playing with his hair 🙁

HATES sleeping without you

The lightest sleeper ever

If you softly shake him awake he will either have a dramatic mom reaction or he’ll just be confused asf

My babbyyyyyy

Myung-gi

Struggles to sleep if you aren’t next to him

Religiously the big spoon

He likes to put his hands up your shirt while cuddling and his excuse is

“My hands were cold 🙁”

“Damn right they are 😡”

Yaaaa we all know his real intentions ✊

Neck kisses pt.2 !!

Another one that uses your thighs as a pillow

Moves a lot in his sleep as well but stays holding you the whole time somehow

Loves you being on his lap pt.2

The type to rub your thighs while watching a movie or some sht😭😔🙁😭😡😔😔😡

I want him so bad

Gives you so much kisses !!

I need someone like him omg 😔

Jun-ho

Loves cuddling face to face if that makes sense 😭

Likes to hear about your day while just holding you

Listens intently and plays with your hair as you speak

He also enjoys when you lay on his chest

The weight of your body calms him down and he feels better knowing you’re safe in his arms

If he’s feeling extra vulnerable that day he’ll lay his head on your chest

Probably gets super exhausted after work sometimes so he just falls asleep the second he gets home

and when you join him in bed he immediately wraps his arms around you

Overall I don’t think he’d be to big on cuddling but he also wouldn’t mind

Hyun-ju

She’s just a big teddy bear

Especially when you’re alone with her

She isn’t too big on pda so in public she probably just sticks to holding your hand

But in private you’re getting cuddles, kisses, you name it

There will be a lot of giggling going around

Loves if you braid or play with her hair while cuddling

Lets you try out new hairstyles on her to see which one looks the prettiest 🤭

Loves when you lay on-top of her

When the both of you go to bed she HAS to be touching you

No matter if it’s holding hands or being straight up on top of eachother

Poor girl just needs you 😔

Mi-na

I feel like she wouldn’t really care for being touchy with anyone but if it’s her s/o

Sign her up !!

Definitely small spoon

She wants to be treated like a princess 😋

Puts her legs over your lap and just pouts at you till you rub them

If she’s feeling a little frisky she’ll get you to put your head on her chest and then just cling onto you

Loves giving you kisses !!

ugh I want her

Cannot fall asleep if you aren’t in bed with her

a/n: hii! I hope you guys enjoyed thissss! (If you’ve made requests it might take awhile for me to get to them I’ve been busy lately I hope you understand!) (reqs are currently closed)

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[starry-bi-sky]

*hits you with more Ras Danyal fanart and runs🏃*

Don’t ask me the context of the RR and Danny one, I saw the pose and wanted to practice drawing duos kfhsh

Haven't forgotten for a second that there's meant to be Flashfam here >:]. I just didn't have a lot of thoughts about him and his interactions with Danny in the au, I've watched s1 and half of s2 of the netflix Flash show and that's about it. I think once Danny kinda 'settles' in Central City (that is, he routinely returns to it the most and stays there for a few weeks at a time messing with the portal gun before going out to get more parts) they have frequent little hangouts/run-ins/what have you. Flash is the first person to learn the mystery boy's 'name' :] and is perhaps the first person Danny officially 'reveals' his powers to (not his ghost form tho, just some of his powers).

(Now, they all knew he was some kind of meta and perhaps knew one or two of his powers or had theories, but Flash is the first person Danny himself actually turns to and goes: 'okay, here is what I can do'. And Flash is both very smug and very touched about it. The kid trusts him!! How can he not??)

("Now can you please tell your little hero friends to get off my back? I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself. Can tie my own shoelaces and everything.")

Flash asks Danny about his powers (the ones he told him, which I think would probably be invisibility/intangibility/flight because those are have been his most prominently used ones and explains how he's been able to get all over the country faster than he should + his ability to slip away and stuff) and vice versa, Danny asks Flash about his -- he's infinitely curious about how his superspeed works and the stuff he looked up said he can phase through walls? He wants to know the difference between Flash's phasing and his phasing, etc, etc.

I don't know enough about the other speedsters to include Danny interacting with them, unfortunately. Every time Flash spots Danny sitting somewhere in CC while he's running around, he loops back to some food place and grabs something for him to eat, and then drops it off next to him. Otherwise Danny will try and refuse it.

This happens especially if Flash sees him and thinks Danny looks otherwise emaciated/exhausted/or if he's been away from Central City for longer than normal. He has no idea where the kid sleeps, and currently he's not trying to figure it out, it'll break the fragile trust he's built with Danny.

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[iloveyoubecauseyouarelove]

Hearing my ma go off about betrayed trust like 💀

It's not that deep not everything some does or doesnt do that you Dont like is Not a dig at you

Like my sibling didnt mention they gave 20 dollars to a friend for a game. I dont think it's unreasonable for my ma to have want to know but also it's not unreasonable for my sibling to have just not said. My sibling has hundreds of dollars, im sure 20 seems inconsequential. Should they have lied and said 5 dollars when asked? No, especially not with how hypocritical my ma is about even the "smallest of lies". But should my ma have feelings of betrayal at not being told to begin with? Also no, my ma just likes to think every behavior she doesnt like is an intentional personal attack

Like 1 time i was punished and had to leave my smartphone at home and take a backup phone to school. Keyword: school. I have no reason to be on the phone that has no apps no web right? And my ma doesnt always text me during school. She also told me i dont need to keep the phone On. So i left it off the whole day except for when i check my phone at lunch, around the time she texts me yeah? I dont get any texts so i turn the phone back off until after school. Turns out my ma texted me a Little bit after i turned off the phone. But she starts berating me about not texting her as a way to get back at her for punishing me and taking away my phone. I was just so ??? Damn confused. I explained to her that i turned my phone on at lunch and then turned back off after and she didnt care? And then she was like why did you have the phone off anyways? I told her she said to leave it off. She said she meant the ringer and i didnt know how to do that but also she said i could turn the phone off. She didnt care, she thought she disproved me and i was just trying to make excuses for trying to get back at her. I Might have told her i was going to answer during class and i dont have time during passing cause my classes were so far. She still didnt care. She put it in her mind i was trying to punish her for punishing me and so that's it. I wouldnt be able to change her mind

[rafecameronssl4t]

Attention || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: literally tit obsessed!rafe fawning over readers boobs

Warnings: mention of birth control, swearing, slightly suggestive?

Word count: 851

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“He’s just so infuriating!” you vent, your voice sharp as you pull your hair into a messy bun, the motion jerky with irritation. You couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth across the deck, your mind racing. Rafe was lounging in one of the chairs, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to your bubbling frustration.

His eyes followed you with quiet intensity, but he wasn’t as focused on your words as you wanted him to be. “He knew I was going to tell Mom and Dad about it,” you continue, voice rising. “But no, he just had to stick his nose in my business and tell them first!” You were fuming, your hands gesturing wildly as you ranted about your brother’s constant meddling.

Rafe barely responded, his gaze more intent on your figure than the content of your words. He watched the way your shoulders tensed, how your movements betrayed just how worked up you were, but he wasn’t truly listening. His mind was elsewhere, his lips twitching up into that familiar lazy smile as his eyes drifted over you.

“Rafe, baby, are you even listening?” you snap, suddenly stopping in your tracks, hands on your hips. You glared at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Rafe blinked, seemingly dragged out of his own head, and lazily looked up at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am,” he replied, his voice casual, as though you hadn’t just been spilling your frustrations.

“You want me to, uh, talk to Top? Tell me what you want me to do.” You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive move. The action, while innocent on your end, drew Rafe’s attention immediately. His eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back with his lips pursed. He watched the way you folded your arms, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“I dunno,” you mutter, your anger deflating. “I’m just so mad at him. I don’t even want to speak to him right now.” Your voice softens, frustration fading into weariness as you finally give up on pacing and drop down onto the lounge chair beside Rafe. You set your eyes on the water in front of you, trying to focus on its calm surface, wishing it would somehow mirror in your emotions.

Without a word, Rafe slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. His lips brushed the top of your head, a quiet kiss that melted some of your remaining tension. The silent comfort of his touch was enough to ease the knot of frustration in your chest. For a moment, everything felt still, his warmth grounding you.

But then, Rafe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a little too amused. “By the way,” he murmured, his voice low, “when did your tits get so big?” His hand reaching down to squeeze. Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock. “Rafe Cameron!” you shouted, your playful outrage breaking through the calm as you shoved him away. His laughter rang out in response, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he doubled over in amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk plays at the corner of your lips as his laughter fills the air. “It’s because of birth control, Rafe,” you retort, voice laced with playful sarcasm. His laughter slows, and he looks at you with raised eyebrows, the smirk fading into curiosity. “Birth control?” he echoes, clearly intrigued by where this was going.

You lean in closer, your eyes locking with his, a teasing glint in your gaze. “Yeah, because you can’t seem to pull out in time,” you say, your voice dripping with mock exasperation. Rafe’s smirk instantly returns, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans back into the chair, draping an arm behind his head.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he asks, his tone teasing but his grin growing wider. “Yes, Rafe,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a laugh as you nudge his leg with your foot. “I swear, every time—” Before you can finish, Rafe cuts you off with a low chuckle, his hand slipping behind your neck, gently pulling you closer. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine.

He tilts your chin up to look at him, his thumb brushing across your jaw, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Or maybe I just like the idea of keeping you on birth control a little while longer.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he was looking at you. “You're impossible,” you mutter, though the softness in your voice betrays any real frustration.

Rafe only grins wider, kissing the top of your head again, this time lingering a little longer, clearly pleased with himself. “You love me for it,” he whispers against your hair, his tone teasing, but the way he holds you feels more tender, a quiet comfort that you didn’t realise you needed.

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part six | pjs.

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k.

warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. having small sips of champagne. this is not proof read.

note: finally finished jay’s solo part. i really enjoyed writing this one as he is really my comfort person in this group. he just strikes me as someone very reliable. also get well soon, our jay! jake’s part will be the next one. i’ll probably need more time for that part since he’s a very hyper member (i mean it in a very affectionate way). anyway, as usual reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. i really appreciate all of your nice feedbacks!

part one; two; three; four; five

slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.

“y/n, please pick up that dress i ordered for you later.” your head whips to look over your shoulder.

a small smile spreads across your face before nodding once, “okay, mom! see you later.” and you leans in to give her a kiss on her cheeks.

as you head outside, you couldn’t help but to feel excited. nerves wrecking and mind wondering of how this day will go. it was two days after your ‘date’ with one of your boyfriends, lee heeseung. and now, its park jongseong.

speaking of, he’s already outside. his red chevy camero parked while he’s leaning on it. patiently waiting for you. his eyes brightens the moment you walked out from the door.

“good morning!” he smiles bigger as he watch how cute your way of walking towards him.

“good morning, baby.” he greets softly and naturally sliding his arms over your waist, tugging you closer.

“were you waiting for long?” you asks a little bit worried.

jay’s eyes are so focused on you, gently watching you carefully. he shakes his head with a soft smile.

“nah.” he says.

only, he was there waiting for over an hour. he wasn’t going to tell you that, knowing so well that it would make you feel bad. he doesn’t want that.

after staring at each other for a while, he guided you over his car, opening the door for you. it was such a sweet gesture that you’re kind of getting used to. the boys always does it for you these days.

“jake’s texting me.” you informed with a bright smile while tapping on your phone to reply.

jay smirks, arms flexing as he manoeuvred the steering wheel. “is he still sulky about yesterday?” he asks that made you giggle a bit.

yesterday, the five of you went to eat dinner at heeseung’s favourite restaurant. it was a very fun time. you spent it just talking about random things, the boys basically exposing their embarrassing past memories to you that made you feel even much closer to them.

in the end, after the dinner someone has to drive you home and they just started to bicker with each other. it slightly stressed you out why they’re making it such a big deal. the banters lasts until you came up with the idea of settling it through rock paper and scissors. you’re laughing the whole duration that they’re playing.

jay won and jake, as always, is sulky. saying that he gets to pick you up today and should automatically be disqualified on driving you home last night.

“a little.” and you made sure you decorate your message with heart emojis just so he wouldn’t be so upset about last night.

he snorted, “he’s so immature.”

you giggled, can’t help but to inwardly agrees. tho, you must also admit that you love this side of jake sim. he’s just so adorable.

“so what’s the plan later?”

the original plan was to not ask anything about the date with jay that you’ve been looking forward to. but you just can’t help yourself.

the date with heeseung just improves so much with your relationship with him and just drawn you both closer. to the point that you don’t feel that nervous around him anymore. you can hold a staring contest for more than 15 seconds now (before it only last for 5 seconds).

jay smiles, knowing that you feel excited to your date just makes his heart jump in joy. since they did talked about how to make it up to you, jay gave deep thoughts about it. he’s very determined about giving his best—if not his all, just to make you feel how he feels towards you.

“its a secret.” and he grins that made you pout.

he glanced and chuckles at how adorable you look. he gently pinches your chin then put his focus back on the road. it was a chill ride and he was so entertaining to talk to. jay’s the type of person who knows alot of things and so you’re learning while chatting with him.

as his car drives over the parking lot, familiar vehicles in the same spot can be seen by you. they’re busy goofing around, but once sunghoon spots jay’s familiar vehicle, he pushed himself off his motorcycle.

jake’s head whips in flash and a big smile automatically spreads across his face. heeseung’s just have a small smile over his lips while leaning over his car, watching carefully. you chuckled, never really getting tired of this scene.

you rolled down the window even before jay can finish parking to wave at the three boys. jake instantly waves back, full of energy.

“sweets!” he greets and even rushed over to your side like an excited puppy.

“calm down, dude! you’ll get drag by my car.” jay hissed while still trying his best to focus on parking.

once rest assured that its safe to open the car’s door, jake didn’t waste any time and bursted it open. jay just rolls his eyes before unclasping your seatbelt for you.

sunghoon smirks while opening the backseat to get your things for you while you’re busy greeting his friends. heeseung trudges closer and almost pushed jake’s clingy ass off.

“hey, angel.” he softly greets then caged you in a tight, warm embrace. he drops a kiss on top of your head then leans his cheeks on it.

“hi, hee.” you says while face pressed on his chest, inhaling his manly scent that you’re slowly getting addicted to.

“jay hits the jackpot, eh? he drove you home last night and then he gets to pick you up today.” he mumbled so lowly, like as if he doesn’t want his friends to hear him sulking.

you chuckled, “that’s fine.” and caress his back carefully.

he smiles, enjoying your warmth. he gave you one last squeeze before leaning away to give you a peck on the lips.

once heeseung’s body moves away from you, sunghoon approaches. his eyes darted at you. he looked so good even in the morning. you gulped, admiring him.

“hi, pretty.” he whispers as he tugs your body closer to his.

pretty? he’s the pretty one for your eyes. the way his black hair compliments his pale skin, thick brows and eyelashes around his pretty eyes, pointy nose with a mole, and natural red lips. kissable lips that you get to kiss whenever you like.

“hi, hoonie.” you mumble affectionately that tugs sunghoon’s heart strings.

there’s really something with the way you say his name. he will never get tired of it. he should really record it and put it as his alarm. or use it whenever he’s losing his cool. it could put into a good use. maybe when he’s masturbating too? he smirks inwardly.

he leans in for his kiss with a playful evil grin on his handsome face. you return his kiss without any clue of the dirty things that occupies his mind.

“its really so unfair that you’d get to drive her home last night and you picked her up today.” jake’s still sulky while you walk over to the class.

as usual, heeseung and sunghoon’s in front towering the three of you. jay and jake’s beside you chatting and bickering from time to time.

“sweets do you like (favorite food)?” jake asks once you’ve settled on your seat.

despite the random question, you gave him a nod. his face brightens like it was such a big relief. jay drags one chair to sit next to you while heeseung went in front to check the workbooks that needed to be submitted. sunghoon went to his seat and laid his head after he placed your things beside you.

“what do you plan on your date?” jay asked his friend who quickly knew that he’s asking these questions because of his plan.

jake’s face looked defensive, “that’s none of your business! don’t copy me.” he hissed at his friend.

that made you laugh and jay only frowned at him. “i already planned our day. i don’t need your lame ideas.” he fired back.

jake cocked one of his brow at his friend, “lame? you’re lame!” and even playfully swat his arm then tries to escape after sending you a flying kiss.

you laughed hard at jake’s cuteness and how they bicker around. jay was left beside you as he flips his friend who just showed him his tongue from his seat.

“he’s so immature.” he complains while shaking his head.

you watch him with a smile, admiring how he’s so patient around his friends. jay is very matured. he rarely shows emotions or big reactions that makes him almost a nonchalant person. but lately, you’ve noticed how he tries to change that towards you.

you can clearly see he’s not that comfortable showing his true emotions. making you feel worried how he’s very cautious about letting people know his fears or weaknesses. he has a strong persona. some people even think he doesn’t have any weak side.

“he’s being cute.” and you reaches over his arm to caress it, a way of saying he’s being so nice.

jay’s eyes drops over your hand and smiles before grabbing it to kiss it once.

“nah, he’s just being annoying.”

you chuckled, “anyway, i have to pick up a dress later. is that okay?” you remembered your mom’s reminders before you stepped out from your house.

jay nods without hesitation. “yeah, sure. we can go pick it up later before we head to my condo.” he says.

you nods and tilts your head. “so we’ll date at your condo?” you ask with curiousity.

jay licks his lips, feeling a little nervous that you may actually find it boring or unclassy. his hyung just took you to their vacation house.

“y-yeah,” then he clears his throat. “is that okay with you?”

your eyes stares at his and nodded without hesitation. no sign of disappointment or anything. just genuine curiosity and a hint of excitement. he always knew you aren’t judgemental, but it still surprises him sometimes.

“what will we do at your place?” you tried your luck of harvesting information.

he smirks, caught on right away. he pinches your cheeks once before standing up to go to his proper seat.

“nice try, baby.” then he drops a quick kiss on top of your head.

a pout made its way to your lips while watching his broad back leaving. you’re totally curious, just like how it was when its your date with heeseung. you smile inwardly then shrugs shoulder before fishing the textbook you’ll be needing for the class.

guess you just need to leave it up to him. besides, you bet you’ll enjoy the day.

the class started once the teacher steps inside the room. naturally, you’re focus falls completely on to the lessons. lately, you find yourself enjoying class even more. maybe because you don’t feel alone anymore. tho, back then they’re really there for you. but their affection truly gave a bigger impact of comfort.

two periods passes like a blur and you’re stretching your arms when jay calls your attention.

“hey.” he says as he leans over, placing one of his hand on your table then the other at the back of your chair, trapping you.

the position itself was enough to send butterflies go crazy inside your stomach. he smiles then stares hardly on your eyes.

“y-yeah?”

“can you help me take those workbooks at the student council office?” he asks casually then pointed at the teacher’s table using his chin.

you glanced at it once then agreed with no hesitation. he nods then started heading towards the table. you followed afterwards. some of your classmates are starting to goof around as it was your vacant period.

“you can carry that.” he’s referring to the fewer stacks of workbooks. it sure does not compare to what he would carry.

“that’s too many. i can handle more than this.” you said, worried that he will have a hard time carrying those.

he shakes his head, declining.

“i can handle this, baby. besides, its just an alibi.” he smugly chuckle before tilting his head, asking you to follow him outside.

your stomach churns after realizing that he didn’t asked for your help because he needs it. its for other reason.

before heading outside, your eyes automatically scanned the room for the other three boys. their eyes are already darted at your direction, like as if they’ve been watching you ever since you stood up.

jake has a pout on his lips. sunghoon’s eyes are piercing as always, but he smirks once met eyes with you. he even made a playful kiss gesture before winking that made you blush. heeseung’s just watching using his soft gaze, only available for you.

“baby.” jay softly calls out.

that snapped you back in your senses then continued following him. on the way to the office, jay initiated conversation that made you feel at ease. not that you’re uncomfy around him, its just knowing that he’s planning to do something at the office makes you feel things.

the scenario at the library with heeseung flashes back to your mind, making you flustered and wet at the same time. your heart thumped in so much anticipation. a little bit scared... but more on excited.

“after you.” he smiles gently while prompting you to walk inside before him. his gentlemen gesture made you blush so hard, unable to even utter a simple thanks.

the whole office is as expected, vacant. jay walks pass you after locking the door behind him. he glanced at you while you silently roam your eyes around. the look on your face made jay smirk a little. it reflects a kitten scared for her life. very cute.

“you can place that here.” he says and puts the workbooks he was holding at the table.

you nodded then trudges towards him to place it near his stacks. his eyes carefully follows your every movement and you can feel his burning eyes, making you feel more nervous.

“are you nervous?” jay reaches for your hand then caress it. his eyes stays at you.

a pout made its way to your lips, “a little.” you admit that made his grin grew wider.

“yeah? why is that?” he asks teasingly then tugs your body close to his.

your brows furrowed and lips pursed, “because of you.”

jay’s very satisfied to hear that from you. the fact that you look very adorable and that he’s the reason of it makes his head go fuzzy. his heart aches in so much delight. he wraps his arms around your body and lets you rest your head on his chest, him nuzzling you close.

“you don’t have to feel nervous.” he says and gulped. its making him even more excited.

“i will always feel nervous around you.”

“is that suppose to be a good thing?” he chuckles.

your arms slides over his waist, “yeah.” a heavy sigh escapes from your lips before you continued. “i feel safe with you, but you can also make me feel nervous.” you admits then slowly pulls off from his warm hug.

he lets you, but kept his hand on the small of your back. his eyes darted at you.

“its because you look so handsome all the time.” you complimented him. well, its true. all of them are incredibly good looking, its just out of all those four boys, jay seems to be the one who needs to hear it the most.

you’ve noticed how he never flaunt how handsome he is and you remembered that one time where jake said that he rarely take photos as he doesn’t like seeing his face. that’s actually the most non-sense you’ve heard that time. how can he not like seeing that kind of face?

you figured you need to do extra effort on complimenting jay, try to help him realize how beautiful he is for your eyes— and probably to almost everybody around.

“baby...” jay’s out of words. you totally caught him off-guard and you’re happy about it. feeling proud even.

“what? i’m just stating a fact.” with a small smile on your pretty face.

jay’s heart strings tugs. he knew he likes every bits of you, but its still amazing how you manage to still make him feel things like this. at some point he thinks that you have some sort of magic spell and they’re all under it. he’s not complaining tho.

he leans in for a very soft kiss. you’ve felt every emotions he’s having at the moment.

when he pulls away, your eyes looked hazy and lips a little more red after the kiss. he smirks then caress your cheeks carefully. the two of you stares at each other’s eyes for a while before he talked again.

“take off your panties and sit down on the sofa.” he instructs that made your heart thump and stomach churn.

he didn’t have to even repeat himself. he guides you and you obeyed without any complain. the very familiar sofa causes so much memories to flashback and you just can’t help but to blush.

he made you sat down and just like he requested, you reached for your underwear and slides it off. he watches carefully while positioning himself in front, his eyes totally fixed at it. he licks his lips, almost salivating at the view.

“i want to taste your sweetness.” he mumbles after you manage to take your panties off.

he naturally placed both of his hands on your thighs and spread it open for him. the sight of your wet core made him even more thirstier. he can’t remember anything that can make him arouse like how the way you do it.

his eyes shifts at you and leans forward for a quick kiss. after liplocking for a few seconds, he pulls away then dips his head to start eating you out.

first lick on your slit and you’re already a whole mess. gasping lightly, your one hand flew over to your mouth trying not to make so much noise.

“damn, that’s good.” jay mumbles and then started eating you out. his lips attached to your core. he’s licking, sucking it. making sure he left no part of it that his tongue touched. he’s so addicted.

he looks at you over his eyelashes and his heart felt proud seeing you eyes tight shut, lip caught in between your teeth and head pans left and right.

“look at me, baby.” he says shortly that made you pry your eyes open. it was a bit hard as the pleasure’s keeping you from doing it easily.

“watch while i eat you out so good.” he added before diving in to eat you so hard like it was his last meal in his life.

feeling his tongue and lips attached at your core felt so good, having to watch as he does it makes you go crazy. it was a sight to see and the pleasure he gives just adds to the intensity of the situation.

“oh jay...” you moaned that he answered with a hum, the vibration it made threw your head back. your eyes slightly rolled at the back of your head. he taps your thighs, indicating that he wants your eyes back at him and so you obliged.

jay saw how hard your teeth are sunk into your beautiful lips and the way you clenched hardly around his tongue indicates that you are close to release his long awaited sweet juice. he raised one of his hand then slides two fingers with no warning. it made you jolt and moan in pleasure.

“are you close, baby?” he asks so softly. contradicting to his tone is his evil sexy smirk while watching carefully how your face contorts.

you nodded eagerly that made him chuckle, “give it to me then.” he says as he rut his fingers inside you in a faster pace.

“ugh,” you whimpered and watch how he laid his tongue near your hole, making sure it touches perfectly so he can catch every bit of your release.

the sight was enough for you to cum. it was so sensual and jay looked so hot doing it. jay continued to fuck you with his fingers despite after cumming and shaking a bit because of it.

“j-jay...” you moaned and shut your eyes close, unable to handle the pleasure and being stimulated by it.

he teared his gaze off from you and focused on your pulsating pussy. he pulled his fingers off then licks it off clean before attaching his lips on your hole to suck all those juices off.

“oh my gosh..” you moaned, back arching a little and eyes cracking open in surprise. the feeling was undescribably good.

jay’s wiping off some remnance on the corner of his lips before he smiles lovingly at you. he loves your fucked out state, still in trance of how good he just made you feel. he gently grabs your hand and caress it before taking it to his lips, kissing it affectionately.

“was that good?” he asked even though your face was enough to let him know that you indeed enjoyed every bit of it.

a nod is all you could give him as you’re still high from your climax. he chuckles and kissed your inner thigh once before standing up to collect some tissues to clean you.

“glad to make up from the last time.” he mumbled, referring to when he refused you the release you’ve been anticipating. back when he’s still punishing you.

a small smile and a light chuckle escapes your lips, “that was worth it.” you commented that earned a wide grin from the handsome boy now leaning down to start cleaning his girlfriend’s sweet pussy.

“jay is really my most hated person at the moment.” jake commented as he walks beside you over the parking lot.

the two of you are hand in hand while the three other boys are behind, talking about this topic you couldn’t even relate to. jake’s not that sulky anymore, but his jealous ass can’t help but to be upset over his friend.

you caress his warm hands wrapped on yours, “oh come on, i know you love him.” the teasing smile on your face made jake giddy inside. he can’t explain how happy he is now that you’ve grown closer to all of them. comfortable enough to tease him like this.

he smirks, leaning his face closer. “not as much as i love you, sweets.” and with no warning he attached his lips on yours.

the kiss made your heart leap. after a couple of seconds he pulls away with a smile.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts his other hand to pinch your cheeks lightly as you nod your head.

“take care of her, jay.” jake says with a playful glare on his face.

sunghoon’s smirking as he silently approach you to give you a kiss on your lips. he mumbled a short good bye before placing your things on jay’s car.

“you don’t even have to remind me.” jay snobbishly says at his friend.

heeseung shakes his head, a bit fed up to their banters. his eyes shifts to you and they soften instantly. he smiles before leaning to kiss you on your forehead then to your lips.

“i love you,” he mumbles then rests his forehead on yours. “have fun tonight for me.”

you nodded, cheeks blushing hard. “i love you too, hee.”

his heart beats in content and leans away. he gave jay a clap on his shoulder before waving to go approach his own car.

jake’s still there, shooting glares to his friend. jay snorted as he slid his arms over your waist.

“dude why can’t you just be normal like heeseung hyung and sunghoon? they just bid good bye and left.” jay commented.

jake rolls his eyes then focuses back on you.

“i love you, sweets. text me whenever you have time or if you got bored with jay.” he jokes, tho he knew you wouldn’t feel that way. his friend is not a boring person and he knew you’ll have a great time with him. its just his way of teasing him.

you chuckled, finding it totally funny. jay swats his friend’s arm.

“you’re so clingy!”

jake just stuck his tongue out before finally walking off. jay sighs and faced you, “he’s so annoying.”

he then opened the car’s door for you.

“he won’t be jake if he don’t tease you guys.” you stated before getting in his car. he carefully secured your spot before he smiles.

“you’re right.” then he closes your door to go around and ride the driver’s seat.

“where’s the store again, baby?” he asks while buckling his seatbelt.

you quickly pulls your phone to check your mom’s message. she texted you about the dress she’s saying a while ago. you told him the name and location of the store. he nods his head and started driving right away.

he lets you connect to the bluetooth of the car for music. a subtle music plays while both of you talks to each other. it was such a chill ride, laughing and teasing each other.

as you arrive at the store, jay parked perfectly and went out to open the door for you. he placed his hand at the small of your back while guiding you inside.

“hi, welcome!” the lady by the counter greets you with a big smile.

“hello, i’m here to pick up a dress.” you gave her the slip that your mom gave you to claim it.

she nods and even ask you to wait. you glanced over jay whose roaming his eyes around the store filled with beautiful dresses. you smiled and leans closer to his body. you felt his hand caress your back as he rest his head on yours.

“what’s the dress for?” he asks.

you pursed your lips at his question, “its for her friend’s birthday party. she’s taking me with her.” then pulls away to look at him.

he stares at your eyes then smiles, “hmm. okay.” and kisses your nose gently.

your heads whipped at the lady when she finally got the dress. it was on your favorite color and looked so cute.

“do you want to try it so we’ll know if the adjustments are perfect?”

“can i?” you asked jay.

he nods without hesitation. “yeah, definitely.”

you nodded and one of the staff guided you inside their hallway where their stalls are located. jay said he’ll be perfectly fine so you don’t have to worry and take your time.

the dress looked good on you. the color compliments you perfectly and the style just fits you. you can’t help but to thank your mom for understanding your style.

“is it good?” the lady at the entrance of the fitting room smiles warmly, admiring how good you look.

you nodded your head, pleased. “yes, thank you so much. its perfect.”

a big satisfied smile spread across her face. “glad you liked it.”

she left you to change back to your original clothes and after that you went to the counter to sign something. she handed you the paper bag and thanked you as you head outside.

jay’s by his car, leaning attractively. you noticed some people craning their necks just to look at the handsome boy. it boost something in you while watching him staring at you with a warm smile. to have all his attention focused on you despite some eyes fixated on him.

“all done, baby?” he asks and hand already reaching for your waist as you approach him.

you nodded and even raised the paperbag.

he smirks then kisses your cheeks as he grab the paperbag from you.

“i have something for you.” he stated that made you look at him with full curiosity.

“what is it?”

he opens the backseat and placed your paperbag inside then he pulls out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. your lips gaps at the sight of it.

“w-what...” you gulped then accept it from him.

“you liked it?” and arms wrapped around your waist once again.

“yes.” and pouts. “what’s it for?”

he tilts his head with a slight furrowed brows. “do i need a reason to give flowers to my beautiful girlfriend?”

that made you blush hard. stomach turning and heart thumping fast, reacting for jay. it was like an automatic response already. to even think that he tugs your heartstrings like how heeseung does is unbelievable.

“thank you so much.” you mumbles cutely that made jay melt.

“anything for you.” and he placed a gentle kiss at your forehead.

the whole ride to his condo unit, you got your eyes fixated at your flowers. he can’t help but to feel proud of it. if this is how you’ll react every time you receive flowers then he will gladly give you all the flowers in the world.

after a few minutes, you noticed that you’re driving inside a very expensive and private condo building. the security itself is tight, but once the guards saw jay’s familiar car they let him through easily.

your mouth gaps while looking around the tall fancy buildings.

“you live here?” you couldn’t help but ask.

he chuckles finding you adorable. “yeah.” he casually said.

you knew that the boys are wealthy. mainly why you’re aware that they get away from their troubles too easily.

“all alone?” your question caught him slightly off-guard.

heeseung lives with his parents and older brother. you’ve been in their house a couple of times. tho you didn’t meet his parents yet, you remembered him mentioning that he lives with him.

jake also lives with his parents. you’ve been in his house once. you met his mom and she’s very sweet.

sunghoon’s house is the nearest to the school. around an expensive private neighborhood. you’ve heard rumors about their million dollar mansion.

“yeah.” jay says. he doesn’t seem sad about it, but you can’t help but to be worried by thinking that he’s alone here.

jay glanced at you and chuckles when he saw how you look at him with so much worry.

“its fine, baby. my mom got that condo for me since our main house is far from the city. she doesn’t want me driving that long all the time.” he comforts you, reaching his hand on you to caress your thighs for consoling.

“don’t you feel lonely?” you ask, still worried.

he shakes his head right away to assure you. he’s also not lying about it. he doesn’t feel lonely at all and he actually like living independently.

“besides, heeseung hyung have a unit at the same floor as mine. he sleeps their from time to time.” he assures you.

“okay.” and finally smiles.

he chuckles, “you can come visit me too, you know?” with a smirk.

that made you blush, but you try to conceal it with playful glares shooting right at him.

“are you kidding? the security is so tight. i doubt i’ll manage to go through it.”

he scoffs, “i’ll let them know that you’re my girlfriend.” he winks that made you roll your eyes.

“you’re so cute.” he commented and finally started parking his car.

after he manages to park, he went out of the car as you patiently wait for him to open the door. he grabs some of your things at the backseat using one of his hand. the other reaches for yours and the two of you walks over the elevator hand in hand.

jay’s condo unit looks so cozy. just by one look you can already tell he picked all the things. it screams so much like him, fits him perfectly.

“make yourself feel at home, baby.” he says.

you slowly walked over the big glass wall to look at the beautiful view in front. the city looks incredibly relaxing. all the cars driving and people walking that looked like toys from the height of his condo unit is amusing.

“hey,” he approaches and caged you in a back hug.

your hand rests at his arms wrapped around you.

“go to my room and change into this.” and he pulls away to hand you a paper bag that has a logo of a very expensive brand.

“what...”

he smiles, “i’ll cook for us then we’ll have dinner at my balcony. sounds good?”

your eyes stares at him and you can’t help but to feel so overwhelmed at how romantic this man is. you nodded your head and accept the paperbag with a clouded mind.

he smirks, “great.” then placed a kiss on your head.

“take your time getting ready. i also asked someone to buy some make up products for you.” he raised a hand and scratch the back of his head, looking a bit shy.

“i’m n-not sure if you use those brands, but—” you threw yourself at him for a tight hug to let him know how much you appreciate his efforts for this.

“thank you so much, jay.”

he melts into your hug and returns it. “no problem, baby.”

you two stayed like that for a few more seconds before you headed to his room and he went to the kitchen to start preparing for the dinner. your heart felt so full just by hearing that he will cook for you.

jay’s really sweet. he got you flowers and this dress. also the make up. you can’t believe he will be this considerate.

his room looks neat. a few guitars displayed at the corner. some liquor bottles at a cabinet. a few pictures that you checked. one with his parents and another one with his friends. they’re all smiling so wide at the picture.

another picture is also the four of them, but it was a younger version of them. they all looked adorable and despite knowing that they have a strong bond, you can’t help but to notice how obvious the difference between their personalities.

heeseung have this small smile, hair fixed perfectly. jake’s smiling so widely and even holds a peace sign by one of his hand. sunghoon’s not smiling at the camera and have one of his eyebrows raised. he looked so snobby. jay have this warm smile that indicates how happy he is while having his friends beside him.

you heard out of all the four, he’s the only one who doesn’t have a sibling. a part of you felt sad for it, because you knew it yourself. you know how it feels having no one to play with and talk to. yes, you have your mom but there are things you cannot share with her. sometimes, you wished you have a sibling.

thankfully jay found it with his friends. a smile spreads on your face while caressing the picture of them using your thumb.

you spent almost two hours preparing for this dinner. a few moments after, you heard a faint knock at jay’s door.

“come in.” you mumbled and soon the door creaks open, revealing jay.

your mouth gaps at how good he looks. he’s wearing this semi formal outfit just to fit the vibe of your dress.

“wow.” he mumbles, eyes fixed at you. his eyes flickers with so much adoration. he always think you are pretty and when he saw that dress, he already know it will look good on you. but now that you’re wearing it, its a different thing.

he walks closer towards you with careful steps. taking time to appreciate how gorgeous you are. it made you blush and makes your heart warm. jay just never fails to make you feel like you’re the prettiest person alive.

“you look breath-taking.” he sincerely said and rests both of his hands on your hips, fingers slightly digging on the skin. he can’t help but to get excited about it.

you giggled and wrapped your arms over his nape. “you look so good too.”

he smiles and leans in for a gentle kiss on your cheeks. “but not as good as you.”

after both of you got satisfied on admiring each other, jay guided you outside the room. he blindfolds your eyes saying he wanted to surprise you with the set up he made himself.

its not very grand, (it is) but still he made effort. regardless, you’re sure you will love it. just how he prepares everything, you’re already more than thankful.

“oh my gosh...” both of your hands flew in your mouth in amusement.

a trail of red roses are made towards his balcondy where a simple yet elegant table was set up for your date. it was perfect.

he laid his hand in front of you with a handsome smile. satisfied with how you reacted. he was thrilled, almost a little nervous, as to how you will take this dinner thing. thankfully, you looked happy about it. with slight tears of joy brimming your eyes, he knew he did a good job.

the two of you walks towards the dinner table and he even pulled a chair for you.

“thank you.” you can’t stop smiling as he sat in front then takes care of you.

he told you the dishes he prepared for tonight and the pure amusement in your eyes didn’t slip off from jay’s eyes.

“you cooked this?” amazed at how it looked like something that will be served at a five star restaurant.

he nods his head, very proud. he tilts his head and asked you to take a bite. just how the meat melts in your mouth is perfect. you aren’t even exaggerating, but it taste so good.

“its perfect, jay! you’re such a good cook!” you exclaimed that made jay smile even bigger. his palm rests on top of chest.

“i’m glad you liked it baby.”

he pours you a glass of champagne. “are we even allowed to...?” your words halts referring to the alcohol when you’re just on your senior highschool.

he laughs, “its fine. just a glass of it won’t hurt.” he assures you.

you nodded, a little excited about it. he saw that and chuckles.

“but make sure not to drink too much baby. i don’t want to take you home drunk. i will be on your mom’s bad side. we don’t want that, do we?”

you laughed lightly and nodded.

the night went on with just the two of you talking about random stuff. he will ask you things he was curious of you and you’ll do the same thing. as the conversation went on and on, you find yourself feeling more comfortable around jay.

“when did you start liking me, jay?” you suddenly asked after remembering heeseung sharing this cute information as to how it all started for him.

somehow it made you curious for the other boy’s version.

jay’s not caught off-guard about it. well, maybe a little but not too much. he sighs and eyes dropped at his almost finished meal. he tilts his head, one hand plays through his wine glass.

“honestly, i was actually a little annoyed at you before.” he revealed with a chuckle.

you instantly got your brows furrowed at this new acquired information.

“what? why?” curious.

he laughs, finding it funny. finding his old self funny for it.

“because of how down bad you got my friends on you.” he started. he stops for a while then let out a sigh.

“i was the last one to discover these feelings for you. i guess its safe to say i was the most denial.” he clicks his tongue. “like i said, i’m kind of annoyed at you.”

your lips pursed, listening attentively.

“i transferred to our school when we’re on nineth grade, remember?” he says and you nodded your head.

jay doesn’t go to your current school before. since his home is far from here, he used to attend somewhere near his house. but he transferred because he wanted to be with his friends. you still remember clearly how the girls in your class went crazy for the new guy, park jongseong.

he was the talk of the whole campus for weeks. saying how perfect he is and how his group of friends are just a bunch of visuals. well, you couldn’t disagree with that.

“even before i can move here, they’re already been talking about this girl nonstop.” he started again then eyes focused on you. “they talk about you like you’re the only girl in the campus.”

your heart thumped faster at what he said.

“i was annoyed because at some point, they don’t give enough attention to my transfer to the school. all they can tell me is how amazing you are.” he chuckles. “out of curiosity and also irritation, i started to watch you from a far just like them. i was convincing myself that i will find something that can make my friends realize that you aren’t that special.” he couldn’t help but to smirk.

“but i just found myself drawn towards you. suddenly i’m not watching you for the main reason i started it. suddenly its because i was caught up, and just like them i fell...” his hand reached over and fingers plays carefully with yours. “and fell continuously until i cannot rise from this feelings anymore.”

your eyes softens and fingers hold his tightly.

“instead of finding reasons for them to unlike you, i found the reasons why they like you so much, baby.”

you pout and eyes watered with so much affection. heart felt so full because of the things he just said. you can’t believe it. jay, despite being the one whose been a little more nicer out of all of them, still felt distant before. his nonchalant demeanour made you think he don’t like you as much as the others. turns out you’re wrong.

“i love you, baby.”

you sniffs and stood up from your chair to approach him. he moves his chair back a little to give you space and let you sit at his lap comfortably.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face on the side of his face.

“i love you.” you mumble so gently that knocks out the air out of jay’s heart.

to hear those words straight out from your mouth has a different effect on him. he was at awe for a moment before he finally pulls himself back to his senses. he made you face him and cupped your face affectionately.

“you’re very special to me, y/n. i may not be as expressive as the others as i am afraid to show my vulnerability, but please always remember that i am so soft for you. you are my soft spot.” he said while staring right into your eyes.

“please never forget that.”

you caress his cheeks, “i know how strong of a person you are, jay. but always know that showing weakness doesn’t mean you are not strong. you are a human after all. for me, you’re a very wonderful person.” and with that he leans in for a heated kiss.

his kisses are intense and so is how his hand rests on your face. your eyes shut and just enjoys this moment with jay, hand rests over his shoulder. his open mouthed kiss moves from your lips to your chin, then down to your neck.

“jay..” you moaned.

“i want to fuck you here.” he mumbles that instantly sent your mind afar. you are loss and too caught up in the moment that you barely give a care if his balcony is wide open and free for people to see.

“please...” you mumble that made jay go crazy.

“stand up and lean on the railings.” he instructed that you obliged right away.

your breaths are heavy while you wait full anticipation for jay to get in touch with you once again. the view beneath his balcony is very pretty and honestly add to the feels. you’re too turned on and the arousal is already poisining your right mind to think about anything but jay’s dick.

not long after, his toned chest are pressed on your back. he dips his head and kisses your exposed shoulder blades towards your neck.

“you’re so beautiful.” he compliments as one of his hand rummages to pull your dress up so he can fuck you from the back. “so damn beautiful.” he added then slides your panties to the side.

he has his zipper open and his cock pulled outside, so hard and ready for you. he licks his fingers then strokes his dick a few times before placing the starts trailing your line.

“lets get you wet enough first, hm?” he softly whispered, lips kissing you on your ears.

you whimpered and hand rests at his thigh behind you.

“i don’t want my baby hurting from my big dick.” he chuckles and kept on tracing the line. his dirty words were enough to get you dripping wet for him.

“jay...” you said, out of breath even if you aren’t doing anything.

he chuckles, finding you adorable. “all right, i’m coming in baby.” he whispered then slowly put his cock inside of you.

the stretch made you moan out and whimper softly. once he managed to put it fully, he tries to make you face him.

“give me a kiss.” he demanded that you gave in. the kiss was slightly messy, but you didn’t care.

he asked you to hold on the railings as he started to fuck into you, his large hands dominates your hips. he started slow, enjoying how tight you felt around his cock. but the pleasure it was giving him made it impossible not to go faster.

he started rutting his cock in a faster pace that felt delicious. he groans as he peppered your back with light soft kisses. it was affectionate and honestly started to drive you crazy.

“ugh,” you moaned heavenly at the intensity of how jay’s fucking you at the moment.

his thick cock just slides in and out of you, reaching the parts of your insides that’s been longing for him. one of your hand hold his arm for support as you can feel your knees weakening from too much pleasure.

the breeze are slightly cold but the heat coming from both of your bodies are enough to keep you warm.

“oh my gosh... so good.” you mumble as your eyes rolls at the back of your head. jay’s brows are furrowed as he looks down on your privates connecting. the erotic sounds of your skins slapping making him feel alot of things, arousal being on top of it.

“yeah baby. you’re right.” he says. “you feel so damn good around me.” and he started fucking faster and deeper.

it was so intense and not surprising that you’re reaching your climax already. the familiar knot forming inside your stomach causes you to clench around jay’s throbbing dick. it sends instant pleasure for him, making him groan and moan. he sounded so sexy.

“cumming for me?”

you nodded your head, lips caught in between your teeth.

“me too, baby. i’m close too.” he then continued trying to drive both of you to reach that release.

you came undone to jay’s dick and is a moaning mess after it. he groans heavily and kept on fucking his hot seeds back inside your tight hole.

he made your head turn to face him for a messy kiss, giggling and chuckling in between while still helping both of you in riding your high.

“i love you so much.” he says, connecting your foreheads together.

you managed to pull a small smile, despite being drunk in lust over the climax you just reached. “i love you, jay.” and with that he leans for a peck before smirking.

“let me fuck you on the couch too.” and then started guiding you inside his dim lit condo. the only source of light are from the bright moon and some from the building next to his.

he sat down and helped you get on top of him, carefully placing both of his hands on your waist. he watches how you hold his dick and aligned it perfectly to your entrance. his eyes darted at you and hold a stare while you slowly sunk on his dick making you both moan in pleasure.

jay’s a tough man. he’s very independent and ever since he was a little, he refused to be viewed at the weaker side. he’s known for his nonchalant side, but with you he’s more than willing to show his vulnerable side. the side that melts completely to your soft touches and the side that submits to your soft gaze. he will fully let you take over him whole and he promised he will never regret. he perfectly knew his weakness and she’s right in front of him, looking so beautiful as always.

permanent tag-list:

@stacey-stonem

strip for me tag-list:

@shawnyle @baekxo07 @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @shanb1n @kaykay11sworld @starfallia @blank-velvet @nctislifue @avaleyshin @kpopslays @jooniesbears-blog @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @d-dilemma @pinksweetlittlepiano @sweetjaemss @yangwonx1 @jenniepaii @jakeswsh @brii-sunwoos-version @luvsjwonn @arimiu @sleepingisweak @ninalove323 @bluej4ym @kk-kitten @leesura @oceanyocean @holyfestfire @hooniebaekgu @nikiswifiee @shjsnjkj @loumin908 @nikistar @renne-s2 @pinksweetlittlepiano @srhnyx @farashawhee @iilwji @yangwonx1

[ssahotchnerr]

okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭

Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭

(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)

keeping score

🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k

early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.

as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.

but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.

"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.

you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."

he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.

however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"

your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."

"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."

his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.

you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.

but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.

"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."

it hadn't rained last night.

the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.

as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.

"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"

you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.

"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.

"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.

your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.

just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.

while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.

and a minute or two later, aaron joined.

as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.

"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."

"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."

with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.

"how are you feeling?"

"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"

oh.

"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."

aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.

so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.

"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.

aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."

aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.

and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.

"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."

"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.

"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."

you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.

once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.

"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.

aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."

"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."

a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"

"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."

he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"

"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."

aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."

"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."

"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[superhoeva]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘: 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓

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⬩ pairing(s) gomez inspired!simon "ghost" riley x morticia inspired!fem!reader

⬩ warning(s) language, spiders, devoted husband!simon (seriously, he's absolutely obsessed with you!), pregnancy (mention), dad!simon, mom!reader

⬩ author's note spooky season might be over but it's always halloween at the riley house! saw an addams family gif a little while ago and had to go back and watch the sitcom version from '64. i ended up not being able to stop imagining simon in a relationship like gomez and morticia's–passionate and completely devoted to each other and their family! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it, as there is much more of the riley family to come! (lovely divider is by @wethairjoel)

⬩ word count 1.4k

You’re uncomfortable here. Simon can feel it without even having to look at you.

The lights are too bright in the headmaster’s office, as are all the colors decorating the walls around you. No wonder his little Raven comes home with a frown that reminds him of yours and stories that make the entire house groan.

It’s when you shift for the second time, sniffing and rolling your stiff shoulders, that Simon places a warm palm on the back of your neck. The man watches you carefully as you all but melt into the touch, sinking against his hand with a soft sigh. It takes you a moment but you finally turn your head to meet his eyes, a silent thank you oozing from them in the quiet. His response–a squeeze of his hand–works well to settle you.

“Just a little longer, my darling,” your husband murmurs softly, not having to lean very far in his chair to plant a lingering kiss on the shell of your ear. He takes in a long inhale, the smell of you somewhat calming his frayed nerves. He breathes you in once more before kissing you again, this time on your jaw. “Then we’ll pick up our girl and leave this fuckin' hell they call a school.”

Simon’s lips drag nicely against you as he speaks. Slipping against you with light pecks, and staying there so long that it glides your hand into his grasp without you even noticing.

“I wonder what she’s done now. Hopefully something only a little unfortunate…” you sigh out, Simon laughing shortly against you as his mind fills with all the possible troubles his firstborn can cause. She takes after both you and Simon, he finds. Wickedly smart, fearless, and holds just enough disdain to make it the rest of the world’s problem.

Oh, your little Raven. Named after the blackbird that landed on the window seal the foggy morning you found out you were pregnant nearly seven years ago.

Neither of you bother to look when the door creaks open behind you, as Headmaster Archer is no one to be impressed by. A microscopic grin, however, cracks your lips when you hear his steps hesitate at the sight of you and your husband settled in front of his desk. It’s gone quicker than it came when you remind yourself where you are; in a little man’s stupid office for a reason you already know you’ll despise.

The footsteps resume after a quiet sigh, Headmaster Archer plastering an obviously fake smile as his greeting. He has to ease down in his chair, still not used to how harsh the pitch-black hue of your and Simon’s clothing clashes with the rest of the school.

“Mr. and Mrs. Riley… always a pleasure.”

“I wish we could say the same,” Simon rumbles back with an unimpressed look, the index finger of his free hand absentmindedly drawing swirls on the back of your hand. “Can we get on with it? ‘Ve got places to be.”

“Don’t we all,” Headmaster Archer chuckles rather nervously. The smile on his face drops into something uneasy at the displeased expressions on your and Simon’s faces. He gathers himself with a pathetic clearing of his throat and straightening of some blank, unimportant papers. He doesn’t even attempt to look at you, knowing that his bones will shake hard enough to shatter if he were to do such a thing. Instead, the headmaster settles for a few meek glances in Simon’s direction. “Alright. Well, I’ll try to make this as simple as possible; there was an… incident that occurred in Raven’s class today.”

Even with Simon still gripping just above your back, you grow painfully rigid. Your question leaves you, hot and quick.

“What incident?”

Headmaster Archer swallows thickly, still unable to flick his eyes your way. “It happened during today’s show and tell–”

“Look at my wife when you speak to her, Headmaster.”

The man behind the desk nearly jumps at Simon’s words. They ring darkly in the room, and the headmaster has to wring his shaking fingers hard to gain the courage to finally do as Simon commands. He doesn’t remember how to talk until an arched eyebrow from you has his voice croaking out.

“Tarantulas. She brought tarantulas–three of them, all as big and hairy as a rat–for show and tell. Pulled them out like they were nothing, then tried to pass them around. Her instructor was barely able to reign them up in all the chaos they caused. Children were crying. The adults were shaking. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it…”

The ramble trails off into nothing, allowing you and Simon a moment of quiet while the headmaster wipes at his face with a cheap handkerchief. God, you two make him sweat, and not in a good way.

Tilting your head, you peek over at your husband. He’s already looking at you, face reading ‘For fuck’s sake.’ Licking your lips, your eyes cut back to Headmaster Archer. 

“Not to be obtuse,Headmaster, but I don’t see what your issue is. All she wanted was to show her fellow pupils her favorite pets. Is that really so bad?”

“It is when the pets are spiders, Mrs. Riley. Not just spiders, but dangerous ones that, frankly, a child as young as Raven should not have access to.”

The headmaster has no idea where the things spilling out of his mouth are coming from. Maybe it’s the heat of the room making him a little braver. Maybe it’s because he knows he’ll see Raven’s spiders in his nightmares tonight, you and Simon standing along with them happily while they eat him alive. 

Regret soon washes over him faster than he can think. Even more so when he sees Simon, in all his dark clothes and scars and thick muscles, clench his jaw and shift in his seat like he’s thinking about hitting the man. Coincidentally, you’re the one moving first, giving the hand of a seething Simon a tender squeeze before you uncross your legs to stand.

You don’t have to move any closer than you are now to say what you want. The anger dripping from your tone is sharp enough to slice at him as it always does.

You’re all sinister smiles as you promise the man. “If you upset my daughter again, you’ll have a lot more than a few spiders to worry about, Headmaster.”

With that, you’re gone. Nothing more from you other than one last glare at the headmaster and a sweet kiss on Simon’s cheek before your heels click out of the horrid office. If Simon wasn’t so miffed, he’d remember to swivel his head to watch your hips as you go.

Unlucky for the headmaster, Simon does not swivel or admire. All he does is stare something horrid into the man across from him, eyes so hot they could bore a hole into the sweaty head of Archer if Simon wished it hard enough. 

The two remain in that position for a good while–Headmaster Archer doing all he can not to evaporate into a puddle of fear and Simon nearly wishing the man dead for making his girls upset. It’s around five minutes later when a small voice sounds at the office entrance.

“Papa, can we leave now? Mama’s ready.”

Simon rips away his glare, making sure to soften his eyes as he looks back at his daughter. He can tell she’s a little sad, mostly annoyed, as she cradles her tarantulas in a see-through cage. 

“Of course,” he coos without a second look to the headmaster, raising from his chair and moving to lift his daughter into his arms. He kisses her forehead, arms encircling her to ensure she doesn’t fall. “And you did nothing wrong, my girl. Do you hear me? Let’s just make sure to keep our pets at home from now on, yes? These silly little people don’t know how to appreciate them like you do.”

“Yes, Papa,” little Raven nods dutifully, Simon rewarding her with another kiss on the cheek and rub on her back. “Can we stop and catch crickets for my spiders on the way home? They’ve had a rough day…”

Simon huffs a laugh, glancing down at the cage of spiders with a short smile. He looks back up at his daughter and winks, exiting the office and leaving behind a shaking, sweating, helpless Headmaster Archer.

“Anything for you, my little devil.”

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