#and then i froze and turned my head right and locked eyes with him

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Okay call me insane for requesting this but I have a Jack Abbott idea that popped into my head after seeing your most recent soap cod writing. What if the reader comes into the pitt with minor injuries but still need to be bandages up & she’s Jack’s young wife so when the current doc treating her comments something like ‘oh actually we have a doc named Abbott too’ and asks if that’s her dad. The same time he walks in insists on being the only one to treat her. That pisses him off but the reader teases him & calls him daddy 🫣 (sorry my adhd is on a roll & I didn’t proof read this so hope that makes sense. Ok bye!) *mwah* 💋

bisous! enjoy daddy abbott!

Dr. Daddy

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

Summary: You came into The Pitt with a few minor injuries. Nothing serious — a couple scrapes, a nasty bruise, and a whole lot of pride damage after slipping on iced coffee in front of a packed elevator. You were fine. What wasn’t fine? The resident patching you up just asked if Dr. Jack Abbott was your dad. And he asked it right as your husband walked in the room.

“I’m just saying,” Whitaker shrugged as he unwrapped a roll of gauze, “we have another Dr. Abbott here. Older guy. Real serious type. I think he’s in trauma. You guys must be related, right?”

You blinked. And then you grinned.

“Related?” you echoed, tilting your head as he dabbed antiseptic across your elbow.

He nodded. “Yeah — I mean, he’s probably old enough to be your dad. Kinda has that strict professor thing going on.”

You pressed your lips together, hard, to keep from laughing. Because right on cue, the door behind him swung open.

And in walked Dr. Jack Abbott, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked directly on you.

“Out,” he said, curt and low.

Whitaker blinked, turning halfway. “Sorry—sir?”

Jack stepped fully into the room now, standing straight, a little too calm. “I’ll take over. She’s not a patient to be handed off.”

You watched as Whitaker's face went from confusion to realization to full-blown oh-no-I-just-stepped-in-it.

“I—uh—I didn’t know—” he stammered. “I thought maybe she was your—”

“My wife,” Jack snapped.

Silence.

Whitaker muttered something like “I’ll update her chart” and bolted so fast he nearly left a puff of smoke behind. The door closed.

Jack didn’t move.

You stared at him for a long beat, then cracked a smile. “You know, he did say you had the strict professor vibe.”

He walked over to the sink, washed his hands with military precision, not even looking at you. “He asked if I was your father.”

You bit your lip. “He was trying to be polite.”

“He’s an idiot.” Jack picked up a fresh gauze pad and turned to you. His jaw was still tight, but you could see the heat behind his eyes now. “And if you ever let someone underqualified touch you again, I’ll—”

You cut him off, voice light, teasing. “What? Ground me?”

His gaze flicked up to yours, sharp.

You smiled, just enough to tip it over the edge.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, you leaned back a little on the table and purred, “Relax, daddy. He didn’t even get to the good parts.”

Jack froze.

You could see the moment it hit him. The twitch in his jaw. The shift in his posture.

His voice dropped half an octave. “You want to try that again?”

You raised your brows, innocently. “What? I was injured. I needed help. You’re always saying I should let people treat me with respect.”

“I said they should treat you like you matter,” he muttered, pressing gauze to your bruise a little harder than necessary. “Not call me your father in the middle of the ER.”

You grinned. “I didn’t say father. I said daddy. Big difference.”

He exhaled through his nose. “You are impossible.”

You leaned in. “And yet, you married me.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just taped the last piece of gauze with unnecessary precision and said, flatly, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Devastatingly cute,” you corrected, swinging your legs as he packed up supplies. “Now c’mon, daddy. Let’s get me out of here before you lose your medical license over a bruised ego.”

He turned, gave you a look that promised consequences — later.

And just before you left the room, he muttered, barely audible under his breath: “Call me that again when we’re not in a trauma bay.”

[dreamdragonkadia]

Requested by @that-choir-girl I hope you enjoy! I'm so sorry it took me a minute to get to this. p.jackson/apollo!reader

It was a stupid hope.

Thinking Luke would come to his senses. That maybe the boy who once taught you how to shoot an arrow before you'd even been claimed would look at you—really look—and remember who he used to be.

But, he didn’t.

You hadn’t told anyone what he asked of you. Not Annabeth. Not Chiron. Definitely not Percy.

The guilt sat in your stomach like a rock. You hadn’t said a word about Luke’s offer—about his plan, about Kronos. You kept it buried, hoping it would fade.

You’d always been angry at the gods. At your father for waiting so long to claim you. But this? Joining Kronos? No. That line, at least, you wouldn’t cross.

Then Luke took Percy. Lured him away like it was nothing.

You didn’t even think. Couldn't think. You just ran—Annabeth and Grover close behind—praying to any god who might listen that you weren’t already too late.

'Please, please, please.'

You found them just as the sun was bleeding into the trees, orange and gold and too beautiful for how wrong everything felt.

Percy was on his knees. Sweating, pale, barely upright. And Luke was behind him, Backbiter angled at his throat.

“Don’t move,” Luke said, eyes locking on yours.

You froze, heart hammering. Grover's breathing went nonexistent beside you. Annabeth didn’t even blink, gripping her dagger like a lifeline.

One wrong step and that cursed blade would tear through Percy like paper.

“Luke,” you said, carefully. “Let him go.”

His grip tightened. “You should’ve joined me.”

“You’re hurting people.”

“I’m making things right.”

“By poisoning him?” Annabeth snapped, stepping forward.

Luke tilted his head like it’s no big deal. Like this was another day. “He’ll last long enough.”

You barely heard him. Your eyes were locked on Percy now—on the sickly purple veins crawling up from the gash in his side. Backbiter’s poison. You can practically feel it burning through his bloodstream.

Then Percy’s eyes flick to your side.

It’s subtle. Barely a twitch. But you know him well enough to understand.

A signal.

With whatever strength he had left, Percy slammed his shoulder into Luke’s leg, knocking him off balance just enough.

It’s all you need.

Annabeth moves first—quick as lightning, dagger drawn. Grover’s right behind her, charging like a goat possessed.

And you?

You go straight to Percy.

You drop to your knees beside him, tuning out the clash of the fight behind you.

His skin was burning. His lips were pale. He blinked up at you, slow and dazed, like he was trying to figure out if you were real.

“You came,” he murmured.

“Of course I did,” you whispered, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “What, like I was gonna let you die out here?”

He gave a breathy sound that might’ve been a laugh—or a wheeze. “Not… my best day.”

You pressed your hands to the wound at his side. The magic came instinctively—warmth building in your chest and pouring into him, chasing the venom like light through smoke. Your father’s power was supposed to be sunlight and music. Right now, it felt more like fire and desperation.

Percy jerked under your hands, gasping. But he didn’t pull away.

You kept going until the poison was gone.

Behind you, there’s a grunt and a thud—then silence.

You turned to see Luke on the ground, Annabeth’s dagger at his throat, her eyes wild with fury. Grover stood nearby, panting hard, looking like he’d just headbutted a freight train.

Luke’s gaze flicked to you.

And for one second—just one—he looked like the boy you used to know. The one who showed you how to notch an arrow. The one who laughed with you by the campfire like the world was never going to end.

Then he moved.

Fast.

With a twist of his arm, an elbow to Annabeth’s ribs, and he was on his feet before anyone could stop him. She lunged after him, but he was already backing into the shadows of the trees.

“They’ll fail you again,” he warned, breath ragged. “And when they do… you’ll come looking for me.”

Then he vanished into the trees.

Percy slumped forward the moment he was gone, like his body had been held together by sheer will and now that will had snapped.

You caught him before he could hit the ground, arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

“I’ve got you,” you murmured.

He let out a shaky, warm breath against your neck. For a second, you thought he’d already passed out—until you felt his fingers curl gently into your shirt.

“Hey…” he whispered. “You’re not gonna… disappear too, right?”

You blinked. “What?”

“I mean…” He swallowed hard. “Could you… maybe stay? Just for a little while? I— I don’t really wanna be alone right now. Not after everything.”

There was something so soft, so Percy in the way he said it—like he was embarrassed to ask, like needing someone made him feel guilty.

You didn’t let him finish the thought.

“Of course,” you said, tucking your hand behind his head, gently guiding it to your shoulder. “I’m here. I’m staying.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just leaned into you, heavy and warm and still trembling slightly.

The walk back to camp was slow. He pressed into your side the entire way, head tucked into the crook of your neck like it was the only place that felt safe, one arm looped around your shoulders.

At some point, his hand found yours and didn’t let go.

You didn’t make him.

And honestly… you didn’t want to.

[frotees-corner]

Sweet Romantic Drabble

I have a bunch of scenes and introspections I want to eventually pen down for my canon SD!Rook Ceres and Lucanis, but I don't know when I'll get around to it and if I want to make a bunch of loosely connected one-shots or a whole fic out of it. I've only done half a chapter of one so far, set just after the romance lock-in, but I really like it, so I thought I'd just share it here for now (it's tooth-rotting fluff).

---

Perchance to Sleep

Their comfortable silence grew, stretching like a cat lazing in the sun. Curious, Lucanis turned around, only to realize that Rook had dozed off, slumped to the side so her head rested on the armrest of the couch. He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over his face.

Maybe he should have been offended, or worried that she found his company tiring, but he knew all too well how often the pressures of their job and her burden of leadership kept her up at night. She needed all the rest she could get.

As an assassin, people did not usually find his presence comforting. Even before the demon moniker - much less the truth of it - he had been told that others found him unsettling, fearing both his skill with a blade and the voice that commanded him to strike. 

Knowing that she trusted him - knowing exactly who and what he was - enough to sleep in his presence felt like a badge of honor.

He dried off his hands after putting the last clean dish aside before turning to walk in her direction, steps slow and measured and silent. Crouching down next to her, he allowed himself a moment to let his eyes roam over her, from the snake tattoo peeking out of her hairline down over the shallow curve of her nose to her full lips. Her hand was curled up next to her face and her legs pulled close to her body, the book she had been reading dangling precariously over the edge of the couch.

She looked so peaceful that he was loath to disturb her sleep, but if she remained like this she would not thank him in the morning, when she woke stiff and cramped. He reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, noting the way the corner of her mouth pulled up into a smile at his touch. Her skin was warm and soft under his calloused fingertips.

“You should sleep in your own bed, Rook,” he said quietly, a strange tightness in his chest. Maker, she was beautiful like this, flickering firelight glowing on her skin and all tension smoothed by sleep.

“Mmhh but I’m comfortable here,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

He huffed softly. “You’re comfortable now, but you won’t be when you wake up again.”

“That’s a problem for tomorrow-Rook.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

She cracked an eye open, just slightly, and the smile playing around her lips widened.

“Only if you carry me.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” He smiled down at her, brows arched, before reaching out to cradle her in his arms. “Off we go then!”

She made a small sound of surprise as he lifted her, shifting to lace her arms around his neck and leaning her head against him. She was surprisingly light, for a fully grown woman. Probably something about elven bone structure, or else he’d have to make sure that she wasn’t skipping meals when she spent all day on her feet.

When he put her down on her own couch in her own room, the undersea aquarium at his back throwing a cold glow on the walls, her hand snagged in his lapel chain. He reached out to carefully untangle her hand, only to have her lace her fingers with his, holding on.

“Stay?” she asked quietly, something fragile and hopeful in her voice, and he froze.

It was not that he didn’t want to - Maker, he wanted her - but they hadn’t even kissed yet and this seemed a step too soon, too far, and she was half asleep already, and surely this wasn’t the right time …

She slowly opened her eyes to look at him, and a lopsided smile stole over her features.

“Not for sex, silly. Just for sleep.”

He felt a flush of heat flooding up his neck. Clearly, some of his turmoil must have shown on his face, and he swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat that was making it hard to breathe.

She was still looking at him with those clear eyes that seemed to peer directly into his soul, endlessly patient, ready to accept any answer he was willing to give. But he still remembered the flash of hurt in those same eyes the last time he walked away from her, and he didn’t want to cause her pain. Again.

He took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. 

“Alright. But let me grab a blanket first,” he said softly, slipping off his shoes and bending down to retrieve her blanket from under the couch.

When he turned back to her, she was watching him with such unguarded affection that it took his breath away all over again, never once looking away as he carefully lowered himself next to her, arranging the blanket over both of them. As soon as he had settled in, she snaked an arm around his back, pulling herself close to him.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest, and his heart skipped a beat, realizing that she had expected him to decline, to pull away again. She deserved so much better than him, but if this was what she wanted, he would do anything in his power to make her happy.

Uncertain what to do with his hands, he decided to mirror her, curling an arm around her back, his hand coming to rest by her shoulder, where his thumb proceeded to rub absent minded circles over her shirt.

She sighed happily, snuggling closer, and he thought his heart might burst as he dropped his head to hers, breathing in through her hair, letting her sweet scent wash over him.

Ginger and Oranges and Happiness, Spite purred at the back of his mind.

He had never shared a bed with anyone, not since he was very young and Illario had sometimes snuck into his room for comfort just after their parents died. This was certainly not that, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of contentment that felt familiar, a peaceful warmth enfolding him in her embrace, lulling him to sleep.

He had really only meant to rest his eyes for a moment, letting her warmth soak into his skin to let him take a piece of her with him when he returned to his own space, but he was dead to the world before he could think to rise again.

When the waking slowly crept up to him again, like a tiger circling its prey, the first sensation that really registered to him was the warmth. The pantry always maintained a cozy temperature, thanks to the fire burning in the hearth on the other side of the wall, but this was different. This was the warmth of bodies under a blanket, of skin and breath in close proximity.

The second sensation was the smell, sweet and familiar and all around him, instead of the stale, earthy scent of onions and potatoes and coffee beans.

His eyes blinked open with a start, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The stones over his head did not reflect the light of the many candles he kept burning in the pantry, nor the near complete darkness that greeted him when those burned out. The soft, cold glow along the ceiling belonged to the deep, to light filtering through water, and he shuddered, turning his back on the underwater tableau to his right.

This was much better.

Rook was still asleep, one hand fallen against his shoulder, slack jaw hanging open ever so slightly, entirely relaxed and entirely defenseless and entirely his in a way he could not describe. His heart felt over full, like it could burst and spill out of his chest at any moment. If time were to freeze at this very instant, he would not complain.

There was no way to judge the passage of the hours by the quality of light in here, but he felt more rested than he had in weeks, so he knew he must have slept for several hours.

So much for creeping back to his own bed in the night.

But there was no regret accompanying the thought, only a ruefull happiness at seeing her peaceful face so close to his. Without thinking, he reached out to gently run his fingers through her hair, relishing in the feel of the soft strands sliding over his skin.

When she slowly opened her eyes, he felt sorry for disturbing her rest, but only for a moment. The way her eyes lit up at finding him still beside her was worth anything.

“You’re still here,” she observed, voice laced with quiet wonder, and he knew he would never be able to sneak away again.

“I am,” he agreed softly, feeling like he could drown in her amber eyes. Maker, he wanted to kiss her. He should have kissed her a hundred times already. When he had hugged her after the devastation of MInrathous; when she kissed his cheek at Weisshaupt; when he first failed to kiss her; when she was there for him after talking to Zara Renata’s corpse; when she freed him from the prison in his mind; when he made Churros for her; …

But if he kissed her now, when he was already stretched out next to her, her body close enough that he could feel the heat off her skin through both their clothes? He didn’t know if he’d be able to stop, and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

But he had to do something. 

So instead, he reached for the hand that rested against his shoulder, shaking only slightly as he laced his fingers with hers and pulled both of them to his lips, brushing a chaste kiss against her knuckles.

“Good morning.”

He watched her eyes widen and grow dark, a blush blooming in her cheeks. Then she smiled, softly at first, but with a growing edge of mischief before leaning in, and he held his breath, heart fluttering in his chest, caught between panic and excitement as she brushed her nose against his cheek - and placed a gentle kiss upon the tip of his nose.

She was definitely grinning now, eyes sparkling with mirth while he tried to control his thundering heart.

His breath escaped him in a huff, almost a chuckle, at being so thoroughly seen.

“You’re impossible,” he said, dropping his forehead to hers.

“Ah, but in a good way?”

“In the best way.”

They just kept smiling at each other for a minute, giddy with happiness, like two idiots in a pot.

“Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

[lonelyangelonlyangel]

.

[gf2bellamy]

lipgloss — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you leave a lipgloss mark on spencer's cheek content warnings: nothing a/n: i malfunction when i see glasses spencer

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping forward as you rested your chin on your hand. Across from you, Spencer sat at his desk, completely engrossed in his work, the soft scratch of his pencil against paper filling the otherwise quiet bullpen. His brows furrowed in concentration as he made notes in the margins of his case files. 

“Spencer,” you whined, drawing out his name. “Do you think Hotch would say anything if I just went home?” 

Spencer glanced up at you, his honey-brown eyes softening the way they always did whenever he looked at you.

“I think he might,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you could always say you weren’t feeling well. Technically, boredom is a form of mental fatigue.” 

You let out another sigh, this one even more dramatic. “I’m just so bored,” you groaned, dragging out the last word. 

Spencer’s lips twitched in amusement before he returned to his notes. You stared at him for a moment, then perked up as an idea struck you. 

“I’m gonna make myself a coffee,” you announced, standing up and stretching. “Do you want one?” 

Spencer shook his head with a small smile. “No, that’s okay. But thanks.” 

He picked up his pen, going right back to his work. You lingered for a second before stepping closer to his desk, your lips curling into a small, mischievous smile. With no one else in the bullpen, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

Spencer froze. His pencil slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk. His head snapped up, his face already turning an unmistakable shade of pink. 

Your smile widened. “What?” you teased, tilting your head. 

“You—” He blinked rapidly, his blush deepening. “We’re at work.” 

“And?” You arched a brow, feigning innocence. 

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly searching for a response. Finally, he huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head before picking up his pencil again. 

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but the small, fond smile on his lips gave him away. 

You grinned. Mission accomplished. 

You made your way to the break room, yawning as you prepared yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. The scent of freshly brewed caffeine filled the air, and just as you reached for a mug, you heard loud voices echoing from down the hall. 

Garcia and Derek. 

As you poured your coffee, you caught snippets of their conversation—mostly Derek chuckling about something Garcia had said, followed by her dramatic gasp. They had obviously just come back from their little break.

By “little break,” they meant sneaking off to grab food somewhere without telling anyone. Classic. 

Once your cup was full, you wrapped your hands around the warm ceramic, only to immediately flinch and mutter a curse under your breath. Too hot. You blew on it a few times before deciding to just endure the heat, making your way back to the bullpen. 

The second you stepped inside, you were met with two pairs of wide, mischievous eyes locked onto you. 

“Oh my god, it is hers,” Garcia said, practically vibrating with excitement. 

You froze mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… what?” 

Your gaze flickered between them and Spencer, who was now sitting at his desk, very clearly avoiding eye contact. His ears were turning a suspicious shade of pink. 

Slowly, you walked over to your desk, setting your coffee down as you eyed them warily. Garcia and Derek were standing on either side of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed, looking like they had just cracked some kind of case. 

“Okay,” you said cautiously, dragging the word out. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” 

Silence. 

Spencer, still blushing, pretended to be very, very interested in his paperwork. Garcia and Derek, on the other hand, exchanged a knowing glance before Derek let out a low chuckle. 

“You sneaky little thing,” he teased, shaking his head. 

“What are you talking about?” You sat down slowly, still staring at them like they’d lost their minds. 

Garcia gasped dramatically. “Don’t play innocent! We know what you did.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What—?” 

Derek smirked, arms crossed over his chest like he’d just won the lottery. “Your lip gloss.” 

You blinked. “What about my lip gloss?” 

As if on cue, your lips instinctively pressed together, feeling the slight tackiness of the gloss you’d applied earlier. Garcia let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. 

“You left a mark,” she said dramatically. “A very clear mark, right on Dr. Reid’s cheek.” 

Panic surged through you. 

Your eyes darted to Spencer, then to Garcia and Derek, then back to Spencer again. He was already looking at you, and now it all made sense—the blushing, the way he had been avoiding your gaze, and the way Garcia and Derek were practically bouncing with glee. 

Oh. Oh god. 

You leaned in slightly, taking a closer look. And there it was. A faint but unmistakable pink smudge on his cheek. 

Spencer huffed, finally speaking up. “She’s not letting me wipe it off,” he accused, nodding toward Garcia. 

Garcia gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, Doctor! It’s called preserving evidence.” 

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, man. We gotta document this. It’s not every day you get physical proof that you two are—” 

“Shh!” you hissed, eyes widening as you quickly glanced around the bullpen. 

Your relationship with Spencer was still a secret, and the last thing you needed was someone overhearing this conversation. You shot both Garcia and Derek a glare, but they were absolutely thriving off of your reaction. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” Derek teased. “It’s just us.” 

You turned back to Spencer, who was looking at you expectantly, silently pleading for help. With a sigh, you grabbed a napkin from your desk, stepping closer to him. His eyes flickered to yours as you hesitated for just a second before reaching out, gently swiping at the mark on his cheek. 

His skin was warm beneath your touch. 

You tried to focus, but you could feel Garcia and Derek’s eyes burning into you. 

“There,” you murmured, inspecting his face. The lip gloss was gone, but his blush? Very much still there. 

Garcia clapped her hands together. “Awww, that was adorable.” 

Derek grinned. “Man, if y’all think you’re still fooling anyone—” 

Spencer groaned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Can we please move on?” 

Garcia waved him off. “Fine, fine. But just know—this isn’t over.” 

She and Derek finally turned away, giggling to themselves as they walked off, no doubt already plotting their next round of teasing. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Spencer. He still looked flustered, but there was a small, barely-there smile on his lips. 

“You okay, genius?” you asked softly. 

He nodded, exhaling as he glanced at you. “You know they’re never gonna let this go, right?” 

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Yeah. We’re doomed.” 

Spencer chuckled, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile too. 

Even if Garcia and Derek were onto you, at least work wasn’t boring anymore. 

[writingsbychlo]

THE BEST LOVE STORIES | THEODORE NOTT

SUMMARY: theo is in love and doesn’t want to have to hide it.

WORD COUNT: 1839

NOTES: the last of my valentines drabbles and this one is dedicated to my darling @prythiansprincess 🤍

Theo’s mouth was heated against yours, urgent and frantic kisses. They’d devolved, from soft to teasing, from teasing giggles to needy gasps, and now, Theo was pushing your thighs apart to settle his hips between your legs and and press himself against your core. You whimpered into his mouth, back arching, fingers raking down the shirt on his back to hook into the hem. 

His clothed hips rolled against yours, the zipper of his jeans pressing the perfect kind of friction over your panties, making you shudder underneath him. His rhythm held, the sound of your soft moans and echoing kisses bouncing off of the walls of the room, as you inched his t-shirt further up his body. When you twisted one hand around, tracing your fingers along the defined lines of his muscles and taut stomach, he bit down on your lower lip. 

It was explosive between you since that first kiss, because the feeling between you both was electric. Only pausing momentarily, panting for breath, you sat up together and your fingers tugged his shirt back over his head. Within moments, you were on your back amongst the pillows once again, his open mouth against your lips, panting onto your tongue, fingers twisting in the bed sheets by your head as his hips rocked into yours, and then—

“Why is this door locked?”

You both froze, Theo’s mouth leaving yours and you suppressed a whine as the movement of his hips stopped. Sitting back, he smoothed his hair out of his face; his cheeks were flushed, skin shining from the heat. Covering your eyes with your hands, you tried to suck in several deep breaths, past the swell of disappointment and emotion bubbling up. 

The door handle jiggled again, and Theo scowled at it. “Theo, mate, unlock the door. I have a girl out here.”

“Well, maybe I have a girl in here!” He bit back, and the muffled sounds of Mattheo laughing from the other side made your nerves spike. Theo didn’t look back as he stood, already knowing it was a losing battle, and scooping up his shirt from the floor. 

He was turning it the right way out when Mattheo spoke again, “No, you don’t. You told me you were watching movies alone all night.” He rattled the doorknob again, and you wanted to break Mattheo’s hand. “Go find somewhere else to do that, I need the room.” 

Theo’s jaw clenched as he tugged on his shirt, hand messing with his hair, a tick to display his agitation, before glancing over at you. You took the hint, standing up too, and wondering how exactly you were supposed to escape without being seen, with Mattheo standing right outside. 

Brushing down your clothes for wrinkles and taking a shaky breath, Theo’s eyes had stuttered out of the lustful heat they held a moment ago and now a cold, calculated sheen remained. He waited a moment, pleading with you to give Mattheo a reason to leave, but you couldn’t find the words to say before he ran out of patience.

“Alright, fine. Give me a second.” Theo shouted back, his stare searing right into your soul. 

“Right, well, hurry up.” Mattheo was growing impatient, and only a moment later, girlish giggles took over on the other side once again. Theo moved, shrugging on a jacket and grabbing for a book, something to do with his evening now he’d been kicked out of his dorm. Not once did he look back once he’d looked away, not even as he held out your coat to you, and pulled on his shoes.

You followed suit, the silence eating you alive, and guilt settled low in your stomach as tears lined your eyes. 

“Teddy…” You whispered, unable to bear the silence any longer, and he let out a rush of breath at the name. 

“Don’t, bella. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.” You stepped closer, hand sliding to his cheek as you kept your voice low. His throat bobbed as he finally looked at you. “I know it’s not great, but—”

“Not great? Amore, this is killing me. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep sneaking around with you, I know why we were a secret in the first place, but it’s been months. Don’t you think we should tell our friends, don’t you think we’re past maybe breaking up and ruining anything? Our friendship is already ruined, this isn’t just lust anymore, I’m in love with you!”

The words seemed to take him as much by surprise as they took you, because his jaw dropped and his cheeks went pink. After a couple more seconds of stunned silence, Theo looked away once again. A tear broke free on your face, and the feel of the water catching the cold air at last broke you into action. As that tear dripped away to the carpet, you caught his face. 

Holding his cheeks, you brushed your thumbs lightly in place, watching tears well in his eyes too. “You love me, Theo?”

He laughed, wetly, shrugging. “Isn’t that obvious?”

Your silence answered for you, and his arms circled your waist, a tender kiss pressed to your cheek as a second tear fell. 

“Oh, amore. I know you’re scared, I know that it terrifies you to commit and risk it going wrong, but you don’t factor in the way I feel. Stop running and look at me, understand how much I want you, and get it into your head that I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn't be able to lose you either, yeah?” You nodded, your nose brushing his own, and the world faded away for just a few moments when he smiled down at you. “Stop fighting against it and start fighting for it, fight with me, for our relationship.”

“Okay, Teddy.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. We’ll tell them. Tomorrow.” You swore, even if the idea of it made something nasty rear its head inside of you, something cold and scared and fearful. 

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, cursing as the door received an impatient knock from the other side. “We don’t have to rush. I just needed to know hiding wasn’t forever. Whenever you’re ready, okay?”

That soothed the inner turmoil, in a way Theo always knew just how to do, just one of the many reasons you loved him too. Grabbing his wand, he tapped it affectionately against the top of your head, mumbling a notice me not charm, and reaching for you blindly when you felt the magic wash over your body. 

“Not perfect, but if you stick behind me and slip out fast, they shouldn’t catch on.”

You nodded, humming your agreement a moment later when you realised he couldn't pick out the action from the shimmering air and blur of a shape you made. Moving across the room, he’d barely flicked open the lock before the door was opening, bouncing wide off of the wall as Mattheo and his date stumbled in. While Theo was busy with his glaring roommate, you slipped out of the wide-open door, which slammed shut quickly afterwards with Theo on the other side. 

When you were sure nobody was watching, you took a few steps further down the hall, and he took the charm off of you. Together, you walked side by side in peaceful quiet on the way to the common room. 

“Did your roommate happen to mention how long she and her girlfriend would need the dorm for, or…?” Theo smiled at you bashfully, a cheeky glint in his eye, and you nudged him lightly. 

“I’m assuming all evening.” You muttered, shrugging, and Theo sighed. “I’ll come and sit with you while you read, though.”

“I’ll read to you.” He promised, throwing an arm over your shoulder in a friendly manner as the two of you entered the common room. Draped across one of the couches was Pansy, filing her nails with her usual scowl while Blaise sipped from a flask he passed back and forth with Regulus. 

Taking up residence on one of the armchairs, you’d barely had a chance to settle down when Pansy perked up, a wicked smile on her face. “Finally! Where have you been all evening?”

“Busy.” You retorted, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Please, if you had a date, you’d have told me. I bet you were in the library, studying.” She spat the word like it was poison, and you grinned. 

“You might try it sometime, I bet your grades would thank you.”

“My grades are fine as they are, thank you very much.” Her nose turned up at you, before she indulged you in her real motivation. “I think we still have enough time left. Wanna’ go to Hogsmeade and buy up all the marked-down Valentine’s chocolate left, and then binge on it later?”

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help the smile that built on your face. “Sure, but you’ll have to lend me a coat, I can’t grab mine because my roommate is busy.”

Your friend snickered, and nodded. “Done.”

“Bring me a chocolate frog?” Blaise asked, including Theo in the pass of the bottle now, who smirked and took a deep swig to catch up. 

“Bring me a muffin.” Regulus added, “A red velvet one.”

“What is this, a shopping list?” Pansy muttered, but accio’d her coat and another for you, handing one to you as you stood.

“Anything for you, Teddy?” You asked, making your way over to where he sat, flicking open his book. He smiled up at you, shaking his head as you came to stand before him. 

“No. I’ll just eat half of whatever you end up buying, so buy extra.” He grinned, and you scoffed, knowing his methods by now, and already having intended to account for him.

“Alright, we’ll be back soon then.”

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you placed a hand on the back of the couch behind his head, and leaned down. Holding his jaw with the other, you tipped his face up, kissing him sweetly as you were sure all your friends were watching, staring in shock. 

When you pulled away, Theo blinked his eyes open, pretty pink lips still parted in shock himself, and he licked over his lower lip. “I love you, baby. See you soon.”

His eyes widened at that, lip wobbling as it became a smile, and he pressed forward to seal your affections with another kiss. When he let you go this time, you were sure your cheeks were visibly as warm as they felt, and Pansy was standing with her hands on her hips. As you joined her, she tutted at you, slapping your arm hard as she walked alongside you. 

“Now what the hell was that about? You’re into Theodore, and you didn’t even tell me?”

“It’s more than just being into him, Pans.” Glancing back over your shoulder, Theo was happy, head tipped back with laughter as Blaise and Regulus likely gave him a similar interrogation. “I love him.”

“Gross.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)

a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic

word count: 3778

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space. 

Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom. 

As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open. 

“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre. 

Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde. 

“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…” 

Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”

“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply. 

“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.” 

Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.  

“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”

“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”

Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger. 

“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.

“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”

“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!” 

“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter. 

“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.” 

“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”

“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.” 

“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”

But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”

“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks. 

“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”

“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.” 

“Then who is it?” 

“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”

“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”

“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”

“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape. 

Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him. 

“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…” 

You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be. 

“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt. 

Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”

“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips. 

“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”

“Wow…” Foggy stared. 

“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?” 

“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off. 

“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…” 

“What is it?” Foggy chimed in. 

“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”

“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”

Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.” 

“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”

But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”

Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.” 

A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder. 

But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”

Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?” 

“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.” 

Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”

“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”

“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways. 

“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”

“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”

Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.

Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”

“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.” 

Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on. 

“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot. 

“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced. 

“You’re cheating.”

“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”

And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”

“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.” 

“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”

“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”

Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”  

“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.” 

“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him. 

With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it. 

Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?” 

“Hm?” 

“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”

Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.” 

“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”

“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?” 

Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”

“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.” 

“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.

“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention. 

Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”

“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”

As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp. 

“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss. 

At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried. 

Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth. 

“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture. 

“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale. 

Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?” 

“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.” 

“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness. 

“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”

A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.” 

“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.” 

Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar. 

As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.” 

Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.” 

And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.

“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?” 

“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...” 

“What?” you glanced over at him. 

“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly. 

“Did you say something?”

“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you. 

  © 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[rafecameronssl4t]

thinking about this TikTok https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QMnM4U/ and maybe it’s Thornton!reader x Rafe and readers door bell camera is always capturing the two being super touchy and readers parents and even topper always unfortunately end up accidentally watching it bc they check it frequently 🤣🤣🤣

Caught in 4k || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

gif by @1liv

A/n: I LOVE THIS LMAOO here’s the tiktok btw

Warnings: just Rafe being super touchy

Word count: 1,024

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader)

The soft chime of your phone alerted you to a text, and when you saw Rafe’s name flash across the screen, a thrill of excitement ran through you. “Here.” the message read, and you didn’t hesitate to spring from the couch and head for the door. Pushing the front door open, you stepped out into the warm evening, spotting him just as he was locking his car.

Rafe looked effortlessly handsome, his stance relaxed, his eyes immediately lighting up when they landed on you. You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face as you practically bounced down the steps toward him, arms already open. He met you halfway, a smirk tugging at his lips as his hands went straight to your waist, then slid lower to grip your ass.

His touch sent a pleasant jolt through you, and you squealed as he effortlessly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips like it was second nature. “God, I missed you,” you murmured, smiling against his lips as he pressed a lingering kiss to your mouth. Rafe chuckled, his hands gripping you tighter, fingers brushing the bare skin where your shorts had ridden up.

“Missed you too,” he murmured, his tone low and warm. He carried you up the steps like you weighed nothing, pausing at the front door. But before he could set you down, one of his hands delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound cracking through the air. You gasped in surprise, your voice hitching as his fingers curled under the hem of your linen shorts, pushing them up even higher.

The cool evening breeze met your exposed ass, sending a shiver up your spine. “Rafe!” you hissed, a mix of shock and laughter in your voice as you squirmed in his grip. You tried to swat his hands away, but he only grinned, unbothered by your protests. “You like it,” he teased, his voice low and smug, making your cheeks burn.

Any retort you had was cut short by a sharp, familiar voice. “Are you two fucking serious right now?” You froze, your head whipping around toward the source of the voice. Your heart sank when your eyes landed on the doorbell camera mounted beside the door, the tiny red light blinking accusingly at you. “Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in Rafe’s chest in embarrassment.

“The fuck?” Rafe mumbled under his breath, his brows furrowing as he glanced at the camera. “I forgot my parents installed a new doorbell camera,” you groaned, your voice muffled against his chest. “Yeah, they fucking did,” Topper’s voice crackled through the speaker again, laced with exasperation. “And when they see the shit you two are pulling—” “Shut up, Topper!” you snapped, whipping your head around to glare at the camera.

Your cheeks were blazing now, and you reached for Rafe’s hand, tugging him toward the door. Rafe, ever the troublemaker, turned to face the camera with a cocky grin, raising a hand in a lazy wave. “Tell them we say hi,” he drawled before letting you pull him inside. “That’s still my little sister, shithead!” Topper’s voice shouted from the camera as Rafe shut the door firmly, the sound cutting off whatever else he had to say.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled, shaking your head as you led Rafe deeper into the house. Rafe just laughed, leaning in close to kiss your temple. “Worth it,” he murmured smugly, his tone making it clear that he had zero regrets about his antics.

~

“And then she gave me the dirtiest look ever,” you scoffed, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with a sharp twist of your wrist. The irritation from your encounter still lingered, and you couldn’t help but vent as you tossed your keys back into your purse. “Like, what is her problem?” you ranted, turning to face Rafe as he hummed in vague agreement, though it was clear he wasn’t fully listening.

“I know, right,” he muttered absently, his attention flickering elsewhere. “Bitch has never even talked to me—” your words were abruptly cut off when Rafe’s hands found your waist, tugging you closer in one swift motion. “What are you doing-,” you started, but your breath hitched as his fingers toyed with the hem of your tube top. He tugged it back just enough to get a peek before letting the fabric snap back against your skin with a playful smirk.

“Rafe!” you gasped, your jaw dropping in disbelief. “Haven’t seen the girls in so long,” he teased, faking a dramatic frown as his eyes flickered to your chest. “You’re such an ass,” you snapped, trying to sound stern, though your laughter betrayed you. Before you could say more, a familiar voice cut through the air, sharp and disapproving. “Rafe Cameron!”

You froze, your heart sinking into your stomach as your mother’s voice echoed through the room. Slowly, your eyes darted toward the doorbell camera you’d just walked past, the realisation hitting you like a truck. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, slapping a hand over your mouth as you glanced between Rafe and the blinking red light of the camera.

Rafe, ever the smooth talker, scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, Mrs. Thornton,” he called out sheepishly, trying his best to sound sincere. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your mother’s likely glare palpable even through the camera. You didn’t dare say a word, too stunned to move.

Rafe, however, recovered quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you toward the stairs. “Let’s go,” he whispered urgently, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter. You didn’t protest, the two of you breaking into a run as you bolted down the steps, bursts of nervous giggles spilling out of you both. Once outside, you scrambled into his car, breathless and still laughing as he started the engine.

“That was so bad,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you sank into the seat. Rafe’s grin was unapologetic as he glanced at you. “What? Your mom loves me,” he said with a wink, reaching over to squeeze your thigh before pulling out of the driveway.

[slutforvoldy]

“ SWEETLY EVER AFTER. ” ( lando norris ! )

SUMMARY: wherein lando proposes to the reader in his own unique way

word count: 0.5k

warnings: none just pure fluff !!! ++ no mentions of y/n

pairing: lando norris x female!reader

You sat on the bathroom sink with your legs bent and feet tucked inside the basin as you leaned toward the mirror, carefully applying mascara. The edge of the counter pressed against your butt, but you’d long since gotten used to sitting there—your favorite spot whenever you got ready.

The faint sounds of Lando moving around in the bedroom reached your ears—shuffling through his clothes, mumbling to himself as he checked his schedule for the day.

Just as you finished your mascara and reached for your lip gloss, Lando appeared in the doorway, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. “Damn. I really bagged the prettiest girl in the world, huh?”

You smirked at your reflection. “You did.”

For a few seconds, it was just pure silence of him watching you from behind, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

Then—

“Marry me.”

You froze mid-swipe of your lip gloss, slowly turning to look at him. “Huh?”

Only for you to find out that he was already kneeling in front of you, a ridiculous grin plastered on his face. In his outstretched hand sat a red Ring Pop.

You blinked. “Lando… what—”

“I know this is unexpected,” he interrupted, his voice dripping with seriousness. “And I know you probably thought I’d propose with some fancy ring, but hear me out—” He paused, as if setting up for a big reveal. “This is strawberry-flavored, your favorite.”

You squinted. “Oh, well, in that case—”

“There’s more,” he added, holding up a finger like he was explaining a game-winning strategy. “It’s practical. Edible. You’ll never have to take it off because, well, you’ll just eat it.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Wow. You’ve really thought this through.”

He nodded solemnly. “I have. And...” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “If you take it and eat it… you’re officially mine forever.”

You scoffed. “That’s not how proposals work, Lando.”

“Uh, yeah, it does now,” he shot back.

Rolling your eyes, you took the Ring Pop from his hand. “So, if I eat this…”

“You’re stuck with me. Forever.” His smirk widened.

You hummed while studying the candy like a jeweler. Then, instead of eating it right away, you slipped it onto your ring finger, holding up your hand for both of you to admire.

The oversized candy sparkled under the light, sitting absurdly yet perfectly in place. For a moment, the two of you just stared at it—Lando with a stupidly proud grin, you with an amused shake of your head.

“Damn,” he murmured. “Looks better than I even imagined.”

You laughed, but before you could say anything else, you locked eyes with him.

And, without breaking eye contact, popped the Ring Pop in your mouth and sucked on it.

Lando gasped. Loudly. “OH MY GOD, SHE SAID YES!”

Before you could react, he tackled you, laughing as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me forever.”

And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.

[thanosscross]

My girl! - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader part 1/?

Summary: You had been a dancer for Thanos a few times in the past, but after he started acting more like an ass you cut off ties, until he saw you again in a death game against him.

warnings: nothing really, just your usual squid game gore.

You had met the infamous rapper Thanos twice before, being called back to his music video shoots repeatedly, so you weren't strangers, but you were sure he didn't know you other than one of his dancers. You were mistaken though, The moment you stepped into the room Choi su-bong had his eyes on you, he liked you, you were the first one of his dancers to not throw yourself at him the moment he walked into the shoot. You watched as a few names listed off with their debts, stifling a laugh seeing the familiar face appear on the giant screen hit his vape before being slapped, frowning whenever you saw yourself, watching as you took the slap recovering quickly before it flashed to a man with 10 million won worth of debt.

Thanos felt his body tense watching the recruiter smack you, you were as small and fragile as a flower, why such force behind the slap? As you navigated to your bed to sit down, you spotted Thanos and another man causing a slight scene with a third guy. Smiling to yourself whenever you saw his friend stop him from hitting the dude, that's whenever you froze, your smile falling and face turning red whenever his head turned and his eyes locked onto you.

"Thanos? Who's that boss?" Nam-gyu asked "My girl!" Thanos shouted, a smiling stretching across his face as he ran over, throwing himself onto the bed next to you "What're you doing here, senorita?" He asked, making you shrink back into the mattress trying to hide from the sudden rush of attention being drawn to you. "M-my brother's in debt..I wanted to help him" You explained quietly, trying to get him to get the hint to lower his volume by emphasizing your whispers. "You were always so sweet, that's why I made you one of thanos's girls" He said giving you the infamous smirk he'd always flash you in-between filming scenes for his videos "I am not one of your girls, I like to think I have more respect for myself than that" You tried to say confidently, Choi su-bong laughed in reply, throwing his head back just to prove his point more that he found your reply terribly funny.

Before you could ask what exactly landed him here, the guards were waiting for you all to leave single file, Thanos made a point to stay by your side the entire walk out to an outstretched field with a doll at the end. "So, y/n, why didn't you come back for my last shoot?" He asked pouted, causing you to roll your eyes "I just, didn't have time, plus, I have the right to say no, ya now" You argued, trying to listen to the rules before the game started. "And with that, let the games begin" You took off as soon as you heard greenlit, it you were gonna do this, you were gonna be the best. Freezing when you heard red light, you looked at the people in front of you, jumping as a loud gunshot fired off and people started screaming. As you heard green light you used your time to look back, scanning for whatever the commotion was, and where choi su-bong was. Seeing him fidgeting with his necklace, you both froze as you heard red light again, locking eyes, you could see the blood on his faces, and the panic in his eyes, holy shit. Whenever you heard green you took off for the end, desperate to get away from this damn area, as you heard redlight again, you tried to stop, but the dirt shifted under your feet and you felt yourself start to lose balance. A hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around, and pulling you in until you were face to face with Choi su-bong's chest "I gotchu, Can't have one of my girls dying on me can I?" You heard him say. You held your breath, waiting for it all to end, but instead the game persisted, Thanos taking you by the hand as he galloped and leaped the rest way to the end.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back every bit of panic and anxiety that was currently washing over you "Hey, you're alright" He whispered, using his index finger to have you lock eyes with him, this was the Choi su-bong you remembered and liked working for, sweet, gentle, but after he got a little fame boost and a group of friends from his underground battles, he just got really rude and disrespectful, that's when he started to fully go by Thanos. "I-I don't wanna d-die here, su-bong" You whispered, gripping onto your jacket to keep your hands from shaking, he was quick to counteract that by grabbing them and holding them gently in his "You won't, I won't let you! You saw! I was like woosh woosh!" He shouted, recreating his actions from before, his gentleness was gone, and Nam-gyu now stood next to him. That's whenever it finally dawned on you, it wasn't that su-bong changed, he was acting badass for his friends, at your expense most times.

You were silent the walk back to the room, making a straight shot for your bed, desperate to get away from him. He was still on your heels, the entire walk, eventually catching you giving Nam-gyu an annoyed glare and shooing him away. "my girl! please! I hate when you ignore me!" He begged, you just kicked off your shoes and crawled underneath the blanket they provided you, not wanting to hear him. "Please" He whispered, kneeling down to rest his forehead against yours "Baby.." He begged quieter, running his hand through your hair "Just because I'm speaking to you right now, does not mean I forgive you" You replied "But you don't call me that, you had a chance, I asked you out to dinner, and then coffee after you said you didn't have time at night, and that's whenever you told me you don't date 'dancers' in front of all of your friends, remember?" You spat glaring at him, just wanting to smack him across his stupid handsome face. "I don't date people who work for me!" He whisper shouted at you, you huffed "Fuck you Su-bong" That's all you could you say, you were too pissed off to think of anything else, he took notice "Punch me" He offered "What?..." you questioned, he grabbed your hand balling it up "Hit me" He repeated, you just shook your head, trying to push him away, before you could realize what happened, Su-bong was tumbling down the few steps that separated your bed from the floor, you jumped up, well, you tried to, rushing to the bottom to check on him "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to shove you t-that har-" You were cut off by somebody shouting "Holy shit that crazy bitch just shoved that kid!" Su-bong's head snapped over, he immediately popped up, almost like a cartoon character "Who the hell!?" He shouted, you jumped, flinching back a bit worried he might be yelling at you, until he stormed off, you rushed out to get a better view of him nailing someone in the jaw, Nam-gyu and you both rushing over "Thanos!" He shouted "Su-bong!" You grunted, both of you shoving the other two away from each other "Nobody disrespects my girl!" Su-bong shouted, walking over wrapping his arm around your waist "Stop it" You whispered, feeling everybody staring at you, he just tightened his hold around your waist "Let's goo!" He shouted all of a sudden rushing over to where him and nam-gyu sat, ready to talk about the next game.

[rainydayathogwarts]

omg james trying to get remus and reader to be together and setting them up would be hilarious

Part of my potter!reader x remus secret relationship au 0.7k wc

The last thing Remus had been expecting when he was reading his book in the common room were those specific words tumbling out of James's mouth. "I think she's an absolutely lovely person." He had replied to James's inquiry, trying not to be suspicious. After what Sirius had told him about James speculating between him and James's precious sister, he had learned not to trot so close to the edge. Now, instead of sneaking off with you when everyone was free, stealing kisses from each other in a hidden corner of the library, you resorted to be more daring when James had quidditch practice, attention stowed away to his beloved sport. If anything, you and Remus did share a free period no one else had, locking yourselves in a dorm for the hour.

The only thing Sirius had forgotten to mention was that Lily had convinced James that whilst you and Remus weren't dating, it would be an amazing idea to set up his most respectful friend with his sister. So that's exactly what the teenager was up to. "Lovely enough to go on a date with?" Remus froze, feeling the energy in the room drop. Unfortunately for him, he missed the most crucial part of James's sentence: his suggestive tone. "Well, I mean, I suppose - well what do you mean by that?"

"Remus, there's no one I trust more at Hogwarts to be dating my sister. So I was wondering if you'd like to go out with her." All the blood that had drained from Remus's face moments before suddenly came rushing back, feeling his face flush too quickly for his liking. "Oh, well I suppose I would." Remus sighed at James's happy hum, turning subtly to look at Sirius, sitting on a lonely armchair, a wide grin on his face. The boy raised his eyebrows twice at Remus suggestively, who only now realised that he'd probably known about this the entire time. Remus picked his book up again, beginning to scroll through the pages to find where he'd left off, thinking he had to tell you about this conversation later.

A slump in the couch next to him had him abandoning his book once more, looking up to see you sitting next to him. "Hey y/n!" James started up again cheerfully, unusually ignoring Lily as she walked by to speak to Sirius. "By any chance are you free this Saturday?" You hummed thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "That depends on if anyone wants to go to Hogsmeade with me since Lily wasn't up for it." Remus almost saw the lightbulb appear above James's head, a sentence line forming in his mouth. "Oh Remus would love to come with you! Wouldn't he?"

If you were confused before, you definitely are now, turning towards your boyfriend with a "Huh?" Behind him, Sirius began giggling, poking at Lily's side to avert her attention to you. "What's this about?" You questioned, watching as a small smile made its way onto Remus's face. "I think your brother's trying to set us up." He said confidently, biting his lip to hold in his laugh. "Oh! Well, you know what, I'd love for you to come with me then." Shit. Your lack of hesitation had most definitely given you away now, you thought. The lot of you went silent, and you turned around to catch your brother's facial expression just as he said "Lily said I wasn't missing anything before but I'm not so sure about that now."

You winced at the tone, eyes on James as he stood up, sassily putting his hands on his hips. "James the truth is..." Remus started, glancing between the two Potters, "I already asked y/n out like two days ago. And she already said yes." James's eyebrows shot up in shock, a small "Oh" escaping his lips, arms falling slack on either side of his body. "Oh that's fine then." You slumped back into the couch in relief, the lie luckily escaping James's realm of realisation, one of your hands snaking between your and Remus's body to hold his hand.

"Wait you were going to tell me though right?"

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji when you randomly get your period.

you and toji had been cuddling on his couch for the past hour. toji had demanded you watch his favourite episodes of law and order with him as you both constantly bickered about who had better taste in shows. toji was also using this as an excuse to have you close, one of his favourite things to do with you was binge watch shows and movies. you were the type of person to make commentary throughout the entire thing but toji unfortunately found everything you said hilarious so he didn’t mind (though he would never tell you that). you’d watched two episodes by now and you were starting to feel ravenous.

“yeah alright doll i know, bbq wings and extra ranch.”

“awww look who knows my order off by heart”

“hard not to when you gobble it down 3 times a week.”

you punch his shoulder, obviously to no prevail as the man was built of muscle and muscle only. he tackled you back and the two of you go on play fighting until you sit up slightly and see the red mark on the thigh of toji’s sweatpants. toji’s face immediately turned into one of confusion, there’s no way he was bleeding from some play fighting, it didn’t even hurt? but you had realised what happened, you had realised but you really really hoped this one time you were wrong. and then toji saw the small red stain splotched on the back of your pyjama pants where you had previously been pressed into him whilst you were watching tv.

“uh oh baby d’ya get your period?”

“oh my god i think so” and with that you had ran off to the bathroom and locked the door. your heart was racing and your face felt like it was on fire. you and toji had only been dating for two months you were sure this would be it for him, he thinks you’re disgusting he has to. you peel your bottoms off and just as your about to get into the shower you hear a knock on the door.

“baby you wanna pass me your pants and i’ll put them in the wash?”

God why was he washing them? did he think you were the type of person to not offer to? how would you even give them to him he’d have to touch them? you didn’t have the voice to argue right then so you folded your pyjama pants as neatly as you could and without a word unlocked the door and plopped them into his waiting hands. he sounded like he had tried to get a word in but you had shut the door just as fast. he was probably going to ask you to leave as soon as you came out and you couldn’t blame him how could you have been so careless? you hadn’t heard from him again whilst you were showering and as hard as you tried you couldn’t get the tears to stop. you knew periods weren’t a big deal but you couldn’t help but feel so deeply embarrassed at what had happened. with trembling hands you crept your way to his bedroom and found some pajamas of yours you’d left on a previous stay. you’d also kept a stash of pads in his drawers for emergencies you just didn’t think they’d be this humiliating.

“mama you finished?”

after a few deep breaths you opened the door and braced yourself for him to ask you to leave.

“i’m so so sorry toji” you whispered, his name coming out of your mouth on a choked sob.

“mama what are you talking about?” toji didn’t know what to do. you were distraught, over some blood? he froze for a second at the sight of your red nose and bloodshot eyes, the hicuppy sounds of your quick breaths. then he swooped you into his arms and began caressing your back as he spoke.

“baby please tell me you aren’t this upset over getting some blood on me? like you haven’t cleaned my cuts and bruises hundreds of times by now”

“that’s not the same.” you said in between short breaths.

“it is tho baby. it’s just a bit of blood i’m a big boy i can handle it. in all honesty baby you could shit in my hands and i wouldn’t give a fuck.” he said in an attempt to make you laugh.

“toji ewww”

“kidding mama. kind of. seriously though baby look at me” he held your face gently in hands and lifted your head until you looked him in his eyes.

“you physically couldn’t do anything that would make me see you any less. you’ve done so much for me mentally and emotionally there is nothing on this planet that could ever make me be disgusted by you let alone something natural.”

you didn’t have any words to reply to him with and he didn’t need any. your expression had changed, the embarrassment had simmered down and all he could see now was affection and gratitude. toji understood you, he knew that sometimes you didn’t want to speak, especially after a long cry you had a tendency to stop talking for a while. with your face still held in his calloused palms toji pressed his lips into your soft ones. he pecked your lips, then moved to your nose, your forehead, over both your eyelids and then both your cheeks.

“my pretty girl. you want your wings now baby?”

and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way your eyes lit up. you truly were his girl.

a/n : oh noooo he dropped his feminist literature books

[mocchiixxx]

Unexpected Muse

(Woozi x Reader) Genre: Fluff, Humor, Accidental Genius AU

Summary: Woozi is struggling to compose a song, so he steps out for a break—only to return and find his girlfriend messing with his studio setup. What starts as harmless button-pressing turns into an accidental masterpiece, solving the problem he spent hours trying to fix. Now, he’s forced to admit that his completely untrained girlfriend might just be his greatest muse.

Woozi sighed as he stepped out of his studio, running a hand through his hair. He had been staring at the same melody for hours, tweaking every note, yet nothing sounded right. His usual creative spark felt dimmer than usual, so he decided to take a break— maybe a short walk would help clear his mind.

Meanwhile, you arrived at his studio, excited to surprise him with some snacks and moral support. However, when you walked in, the room was empty.

"Huh… where’d he go?" you mumbled, setting the food down on a nearby table.

Your eyes drifted to the massive setup in front of you— the soundboard, the computer, the keyboard, and… so many buttons.

Curiosity got the best of you.

Cautiously, you sat down in his chair, your fingers hovering over the controls. What is he working on? you wondered, pressing a random key. A low synth sound echoed through the room.

"Ooooh," you grinned. "This is fun."

One button turned into two. Two turned into five. Before you knew it, you were layering beats, adjusting volume levels, and even adding a random melody just because it sounded nice.

Was it good? Who knew.

Was it fun? Absolutely.

You bobbed your head to your accidental track, completely unaware of time passing—until a very familiar voice cut through your focus.

"...What are you doing?"

You froze.

Turning your head slowly, you found Woozi standing by the door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. His usual unreadable expression was on full display, but his eyes were flickering with something unreadable.

"Uh…" You gulped. "Surprise?"

Woozi sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Please tell me you didn’t touch anything important."

"Define important," you said weakly.

He exhaled and walked over, taking your spot in the chair. His fingers moved quickly, clicking around the software. You braced yourself for a lecture, but then…

He stopped.

Frowned.

Replayed what you had done.

Again.

And again.

"...Wait." He leaned in closer to the screen, adjusting the headphones around his neck. His brows furrowed in deep concentration as he listened to your masterpiece for the fifth time.

You shifted awkwardly. "Sooo… is it bad?"

Woozi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled out his keyboard and started playing along with your accidental melody. He added a few tweaks here and there, adjusting the tempo.

Then, out of nowhere, he grinned.

A real grin.

The kind he only got when inspiration struck.

"You just solved my problem," he muttered in disbelief, eyes locked onto the screen.

You blinked. "I—what?"

Woozi turned to you, his smile still lingering. "This. What you just made. It’s actually good."

Your jaw dropped. "Liar."

"I'm serious!" He laughed, shaking his head. "How did you even do this?"

You scratched your head sheepishly. "Uh… I just pressed buttons until it sounded nice?"

Woozi stared at you for a moment before letting out a deep sigh, amusement flickering in his eyes. "So, you’re telling me… I struggled for hours—and you, someone who has zero experience, just walked in and accidentally made something usable?"

You grinned. "Pretty much."

Woozi groaned, slumping in his chair. "I hate that this actually helps."

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Guess that means I’m your muse now, huh?"

He shot you a side glance, lips twitching into a small smirk. "You’ve always been."

Your heart did a little flip.

"Okay, producer-nim," you teased. "Let’s finish this masterpiece together."

Woozi chuckled, shaking his head before pulling you into his lap, handing you a pair of headphones. "Just… don’t touch anything without telling me first."

"No promises."

"You’re going to be the death of me."

"Yet you love me."

He sighed dramatically, but his smile gave him away. "Unfortunately."

You grinned. "Fortunately."

A/N: Woozi would absolutely be both impressed and so done if his girlfriend accidentally made a hit song. My mind just keep flooding with ideas so I have to craft them down.

[hanniebaeee]

The Plan

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: Suggestive MDNI

Genre: Established relationship, fluff (a little angst)

Summary: You and Hyunjin have a week off, at the same time, so you both make plans. Plans, but different plans, involving each other.

It was supposed to be very simple. But obviously simple didn't exist in your home. Because the tension in the apartment was palpable.

“You’re telling me,” Hyunjin began, voice wobbling, “that you booked our week off to go to yours without even asking me first?”

You were standing at the kitchen counter with your hands clenched around a mug of tea (that you weren’t drinking because you were too busy suppressing your rage).

“Jinnie, I did ask. You said you were fine with whatever I planned.”

“I said that thinking you'd actually be discussing it with me!” His voice raised a little. Of course it did. “I wanted to take you to mine this time! My mom's been dying to spend time with you! And she has been knitting a sweater for you and -”

Hyunjin was already emotionally unraveling, hands flailing in the air.

Your jaw ticked. You were actually trying not to show how agitated you were feeling. It wasn't like you to yell or explode or make a scene. You imploded - silently, gracefully, like a submarine sinking into the abyss.

“Okay, Hyunjin,” you said evenly, though your teeth were clenched so tight your jaw ached. “I’m not fighting. You can have what you want.”

“You’re not fighting?!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “You’re always not angry, which is just a code for angrier than hell! While I’m here, losing my mind, because I had this whole thing planned -”

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t listen to one more word. You haven't been home in a while and you missed your parents. And they were actually excited to meet Hyunjin. And now your feelings bubbled under the surface like hot lava. 

“For the love of God, can you stop yelling!” You bit out and it made him even more agitated.

“Oh, I’m sorry for being emotional! Not all of us are emotionally constipated like you!”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.

“I am NOT emotionally constipated!”

“Yes, you are!” Hyunjin yelled back, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You’re mad right now, aren’t you? But instead of yelling at me like a normal person, you’re standing there pretending you’re fine while plotting my death in your head!”

You froze. He wasn’t entirely wrong, really.

“I’m not plotting your death,” you muttered.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, throwing himself onto the couch dramatically. “You’re probably going to go scream into a pillow or something, because god forbid you actually express an emotion.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me!” He said dramatically. “You’re a psycho perfectionist, and I -”

Okay, your eyes were starting to sting with tears now, and without a word, you turned and walked out of the kitchen. Hyunjin trailed after you, his voice climbing several octaves.

“Wait! Where are you going? Are you mad? Are you CRYING?!”

You slammed the bathroom door behind you, locked it, and turned on the faucet for cover. No way in hell were you letting him hear you cry. You pressed your eyes tightly closed, biting back the tears threatening to spill over. Then you let out a strangled scream into your hands.

Oh yeah. It was all coming out now. 

“BABE, I CAN HEAR YOU SCREAMING.” His voice was high-pitched with panic. You heard him jiggling the doorknob. “Y/N, PLEASE, OPEN THE DOOR. WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS. OR FIGHT ABOUT IT. OR KISS ABOUT IT. JUST OPEN THE DOOR.”

You grabbed a towel from the rack and let out another muffled scream into it. Ok, that felt a little better.

On the other side of the door, Hyunjin flopped against it dramatically.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my plans. But why are you mad? You didn’t tell me about yours either! Shouldn’t we both be mad? Let’s be mad together! Please open the door, baby!”

The sheer absurdity of it all made you laugh, though it was shaky, laced with frustration. You didn’t want to open the door. You didn’t want to face his dumb, beautiful, perfect face that made you melt faster than an ice cube on a hot pan. 

But, of course, he couldn’t leave it alone.

“Do you want me to cry? I’ll cry. I’ll cry right here, babe. Pisces tears - they’re coming.”

“Oh my god, Jinnie!” you yelled through the door, finally snapping.

“You're the one who locked me out when I’m  emotionally vulnerable!”

You groaned, wiping your face and flinging the door open so hard he stumbled back.

“Fine! You want to talk? Let’s talk. I planned this because I thought you'd be happy to come spend time with my family in my childhood home, Hyunjin. I wanted you to see where I grew up, meet my parents, and understand my world a little better. Ok?”

He blinked at you, tears threatening to spill because of course they were. His lower lip wobbled.

“I did the same because I love you, you idiot,” He whispered. “I love you. I wanted to show you off. And I understand you wanted the same. And now we’re yelling at each other because we both care too much and suck at communicating.”

Damn it. Damn him. You hated when he made sense in the middle of his theatrics.

“I love you, too.” You sighed, deflating.

“Say that again, but slower,” he teased, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes.

You swatted his shoulder, though you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Don’t push it.”

“So,” he said, stepping closer, his hands brushing your waist, “are we going to keep fighting, or are we going to make out and figure out where we’re actually going to?”

It obviously started with one kiss - one of those angry, frustrated, teeth-clashing ones. You had grabbed his stupidly pretty face and kissed him, and he kissed you back immediately because, well, Hyunjin was Hyunjin. Dramatic. And, almost entirely too weak for you.

And he couldn't stop ranting even through the kiss. 

“You-”

Kiss. 

“-are the most infuriating person-”

Kiss.

“-I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up, Hyunjin,” you mumbled against his lips, tugging at his shirt to pull him closer.

“No,” he panted, breaking the kiss to glare at you. “You don’t get to tell me to shut up. I’m still mad at you.”

“Oh, you’re mad?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m not the one who hijacked an entire week with zero communication. Emotional wreck.”

“EMOTIONAL WRECK?!” he gasped. “At least I express my emotions! You bottle yours up and hold a grudge!”

“I don't-” You cut yourself off, realizing how stupid it was to argue about who was more emotionally stable while Hyunjin’s hands were under your shirt, groping you shamelessly as you glared at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re impossible!” he shot back, his voice cracking slightly. 

“I literally don’t know why I love you,” you snapped, looking away because his fingers were getting somewhere now. 

“At least I know why I love you!” he yelled dramatically. “But right now, I don’t like you, because you’re a terrible planner, and you -”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, grabbing him by the collar and kissing him again to shut him up.

It worked for about ten seconds. Then he was talking again, voice muffled against your lips.

“I can’t believe you think -”

Kiss.

“-that I’m more dramatic-”

Kiss.

“-than you.”

“Hyunjin, if you don’t stop talking-” you hissed and he narrowed his eyes before smirking.

“What are you gonna do?” he challenged.

You sighed because just look at him - lips swollen, hair an absolute mess, and he looked so unfairly good. 

You didn’t answer. Instead, you shoved him back against the bathroom door and kissed him hkisse and yanked his shirt up.

“Okay, wait, timeout,” he gasped, laughing breathlessly as you attacked his neck with kisses. “Are we still fighting? I feel like we’re still fighting. Are you biting me?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled against his skin, fully leaning into your irritation now. “What are you gonna do about it, oh my god,you're such a princess -”

“Oh, I’ll show you what I’m gonna do -”

The aftermath of that argument had settled into an odd quiet. The kind of quiet where you both pretended like nothing was wrong - the situation barely resolved, because you both minus clothes could only resolve so much. 

Hyunjin was trying (really trying) to act like he was fine with your plan. He was aggressively cleaning up the living room, now trying to crack jokes and laugh. But the slight droop in his shoulders? The barely-there pout on his stupidly kissable lips? The way he sighed softly every now and then?

Yeah. He wasn’t fine. Definitely not. 

You watched him from the kitchen, your arms crossed and biting your bottom lip anxiously, trying to steel yourself. Hyunjin wasn’t going to say it, but you could see through him. He wanted to go to his hometown. This was important to him. And now he was swallowing his emotions because he thought you were still mad.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and opened your travel app. Your parents would understand. You could still go next month. You told yourself that it was ok, even though you were looking forward to taking him home with you. And then, clicked cancel, and waited for the confirmation email.

“Jinnie,” you called, walking into the living room. He was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone like he wasn’t secretly sulking. He looked up with wide eyes, a little too eager to pretend like everything was fine.

“Yeah?”

You took a breath and walked over to sit beside him as you said, “We’re going to yours.”

For a moment, he just stared at you like you’d told him something stupid. Then he shook his head quickly.

“No, no, no, we don’t have to do that. I’m totally happy going to yours. Really.” he said. 

You gave him a look.

“Hyunjin. Don’t lie to me. You’ve been pouting all afternoon.”

“I haven’t been pouting!” he said, pouting even harder now.

“Baby,” you said again, softer this time, placing a hand on his thigh. “I know this is important to you. I want to go too, okay? And when it's my turn, I want you to come wholeheartedly. I’m not mad at you, and I’m not holding a grudge. I promise.”

His lips wobbled at that, and he shook his head again, his eyes already starting to glisten.

“No, I'm seriously fine. I want to go to yours. You planned it. It’s -”

“I already canceled the tickets.”

That shut him up. His eyes widened, and his lips parted as he sat still for a second.

“You…you canceled them?”

“Yep.” You smiled, cupping his cheek with your hand. “So, we’re going to yours.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His lips trembled, blinking rapidly like he was trying to hold it together, and then he let out a shaky little sigh.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he whispered. 

“Because I love you, idiot,” you teased gently, even as your own heart hurt.

You could swear his lip wobbled harder than before.

“I’m gonna cry,” he said, his voice breaking.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth and said, “You’re already crying, silly boy.”

He sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, but then he muttered, “I… might’ve also canceled the tickets to my hometown.”

You froze.

“You what?”

He looked sheepish, giving you that shy, half-apologetic smile he always brought out when he knew he’d screwed up.

“I canceled them. Like, right after we -”

“Hyunjin, why?!”

“Because I wanted to go to yours!” he wailed, throwing his hands up. “You seemed so sad, and you are always keeping it all in not to hurt me, and -”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to figure out if you wanted to laugh or scream.

“So…we both canceled our tickets. And now we’re… nowhere.”

“Yep. Pretty much.”

Divider: @strangergraphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120

[rowdydevs-nhl]

+18 -> smut | Jack finds your Tumblr account (… and you’re reading stories about him 👀🤭)

𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: pet names, swearing, new relationship, kissing, they have not had sex yet, brief unprotected p in v, fingering, spanking, oral (female receiving), oral (brief; male receiving), praise, teasing, handjob, finger sucking, cum tasting, ownership kink, sex toys, brief rough sex, Jack goes through the reader’s things, thigh-slapping, the reader says she wants to have sex and they agree for round 2 he surprises her by switching the toy with himself

*the red indented text is the Tumblr story*

2.8k

Jack lay sprawled on your bed, his legs were draped off the edge, lazily tossing a practice ball into the air as he waited for you to get out of the shower. The faint hiss of water running in the bathroom had an oddly calming effect, but it did little to take his attention from the nagging temptation right beside him… your phone.

He wasn't the snooping type—or so he’d like to think. You were sweet and trusting, and your relationship was so new. The last thing he wanted was to screw it up by overstepping. But the phone vibrated again, its screen lighting up, and curiosity got the better of him.

"This is fucked," he mutters to himself, glancing toward the bathroom door to make sure you wouldn't catch him nonetheless.

He froze as he unlocked the screen, his jaw falling slack with shock. It wasn’t TikTok or Instagram… It wasn't Pinterest or anything he had seen before. This was something entirely different. “Shit,” he whispers, running his hand over his smirk as he continues to read the porn on the page before him.

Mhmm… Yeah. Sure. Is that why you're wearin’ that set I bought you, pretty? Just wanted to sit around? It’s almost like you wanted this to happen,” he mumbles, calling you out completely as he kicks his bedroom door shut, slamming the lock with a smirk before flicking his backward cap to the side.

"Maybe," you whisper, fighting back a smile as Jack lies on the floor.

His palm slams over his lips as he gasps and chuckles— eyes widening on the page as he reads his name. What the fuck is this? Is this a romance novel? I mean—I guess… He thinks to himself. Not just romantic in the generic sense, but detailed, explicit, and absolutely nothing like what he was expecting his sweet, innocent girlfriend to read.

Jack palms at his cock, already pushing against his pants. Finding him not getting off on the words he was consuming but the woman consuming them. His mind spins with the thought of you reading this with one hand on your phone and the other in your panties, playing with yourself as you read each filthy word about how your boyfriend fucks.

Jack's lips twitch into a grin as he scrolls down a few lines. “No way…” He shakes his head in disbelief, reading a little more.

Goddamn, you're lucky my brother’s not home… Hate for him to hear what a slut you are for me.” He quickly rolls you to your back, your hands still firmly wrapped. The veins in his neck protruded, that same smile still slicked on his lips. He grabs your wrists, pinning them against the carpet with a bruising grip.

The contrast between the innocent image he had of you and the vivid story on your screen sent a rush of warmth through him, his body tingling, heart pumping fast. He even found himself getting a little bashful at the thought of it, turning slightly only to see his blushed cheeks in the reflection of your floor-length mirror.

"Wow," he whispers.

Unable to help himself now, Jack's curiosity grows. He returns the phone to the bed and lets his eyes wander around your room. It’s cozy, filled with little personal touches—string lights, a collection of books, the aroma of your vanilla candle wafting in the air. His eyes fall onto your nightstand, and for just a second, he does hesitate. But he wants to know more.

"C’mon, man. Don't do it," he whispers, scolding himself, already reaching for the handle.

The drawer opens, nothing out of the ordinary: the chapstick he loves, an extra phone charger, a few books.

“Damn…” He freezes again. A pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs from your Halloween costume were tucked to the side, half-hidden by a scarf. He grabs the scarf, pulling it out nice and slow, finding a black satin bag below it.

Jack’s heart races, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through his veins. “Holy shit, princess. What do we have here, huh?” He whispers, grinning like he had just found hidden treasure. He can only imagine what’s inside; he had a couple of ideas based on the silhouettes alone. He never imagined you’d have something like this. Not you, the girl who blushed when he kissed your forehead in public.

“Damnit.” He slams the drawer shut as he hears something, making the contents rattle. He lifts his fingers and runs them through his hair. His heart pounding in his head softens, letting him hear a new sound.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. He looks down at your phone, but the screen is black— no call or alarm coming in. His eyes double as he looks down in the other direction, getting closer to the source. He grabs the handle, pulls the drawer open, and sees the contents inside shifted from how hard he shut it.

He pulls back the scarf, watching the satin bag vibrate and turn slowly. Jack snatches the bag and peers inside, gasping again as he sees your toys. He didn’t recognize two—more familiar with the third. He pulls the rabbit vibrator out of the bag, watching in awe and lust as it swirls and shakes. He snaps himself out of his daze enough to shut it off.

Jack looks down at his body and then toward the door, curiosity getting the better of him. He tosses the bag to the bed and loops his fingers around his grey sweats, tugging them down enough to release his aching cock. His length slaps against his shirt, standing straight with a slight curve.

He lifts the vibrator in one hand, hissing at the contact when he wraps his fist around the other. Jack holds them up next to each other, smiling smugly as he catches all the differences playing in his favor. He could see all the veins and ridges of his cock where the toy was smooth, the girth of his dick wider than the silicone shaft. Jack pumps his dick a few times, feeling the blood pump through it.

He tosses his head back as he drags his hand up a little more, lowering his eyes again to watch the bead of precum that was gathered at his swollen tip roll slowly down the side. Jack looks back at the toy one last time, thinking about your warm, wet cunt swallowing up the smaller silicon tip— your glossy hole fluttering as the shaft vibrated with you.

He rolls out his neck, feeling himself embarrassingly close to cumming at his thoughts alone. Jack puts the toy back in the satin bag carefully, setting it down in its place softly, shutting the drawer slowly, attempting to compose himself as the bathroom door opens.

You step into the room, wrapped in a towel, your wet hair cascading over your shoulders. Jack struggles to sit up, his big body floundering slightly as he attempts to look casual—his usual swagger long gone. His cheeks flush even more; lip, bitten between his teeth to hold back his nervous chuckle, which quickly breaks loose.

"What's so funny?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow as you walk over to your dress, grabbing your lotion from the top.

Jack’s pretty eyes draw to your hands as you spread the creamy white between them, swirling it over your soft skin as a smug smile plays on his perfect lips.

Jack stands up, crossing the room in a couple of strides before wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He tilts down, kissing your forehead, then your nose, lingering on your pillowy lips before tucking himself in your neck, lips dusting your ear. "I found your shit, princess,” he rasps, his voice deep and teasing.

You freeze for a second, your mind racing. "My shit? Wh-What do you mean?”

"The handcuffs, your stories, the—" he pauses, his smile spreading along your warm, dewy skin, "…the toys. And I thought you were a good girl." He pulls away, expecting to see your flustered face, surprised when he catches the twinkle in your eye. Your head tilts slightly, eyes falling into a lusty haze.

"I never said I was."

Jack blinks, caught off guard by your confidence. He lets out a laugh, pulling you in tighter against him. "Goddamn, baby," he teases, his voice warm and hungry.

You set your hands on his chest as you look up at him. "Is that a problem?"

Jack's eyes darken slightly, his laughter softening as he leans in for a kiss. "It’s fuckin’ perfect," he mumbles against your lips, his excitement and affection for you only growing. "You keep surprising me, pretty."

"Could say the same," you counter with a smirk, tugging him in by his shirt. “Lookin’ through my shit like I have something to hide.”

"That’s true," he says, smiling into your kiss, eager to see what other surprises you had in store or what those two other toys were that he’d never seen before. “Let me apologize to you. Hmm?” He asks as his eyes fall to your towel, looking back up at you quickly. You give him a little nod, and he tugs at it fast, watching the fuzzy white material fall around your feet.

His eyes work up your body slowly, hands holding and kneading the fullness of your hips. Jack’s big hands trace your soft skin before cupping your breasts, squeezing, and watching the way your body reacts to his touch.

Grabbing for his white t-shirt, you pull it over his head. Your lips claim his as your fingers dance over the deep indentations of his abs, his cut v-lines disappearing below the band of his sweats. You curl your fingers under the elastic as your tongue slips in his mouth, swirling with his as you tug his pants off.

Jack lifts you off your feet into his arms as your tongues tangle together, your body rolling into his with the cadence of your kiss, the wetness of your soaked pussy transferring to his hot skin.

He lays you down on the bed and crawls on with you— the mischievous grin on his face spreading wider. “Grab your phone,” he hums against your lips. “Open it, princess. Think you have a story you need to finish. Yeah?” he says, stretching his big arms around the back of his head as he relaxes into your pillows. “Were you reading about me?” He asks, trying to hold back his smirk.

“Yeah,” you answer bashfully as he leans in a little closer.

“You obsessed with me, or what?” He teases.

“Is that not obvious–”

“Good,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you gently. “‘Cause I’m obsessed with you too, pretty.”

Your eyes fall down his perfect body, Jack’s stiff cock trapped between the band of his White Calvin’s and his warm skin, the man incredibly hard. His tip’s messy with precum, pooled on his tip, making you lick your lips. You reach out your finger, pressing it against his swollen head, swirling it slowly, tracing his slit as his mouth falls open. Lifting your finger, you bring it to your lips, sucking down as he watches you close.

"You want me to read it out loud?"

Jack shrugs as he tucks himself into you, kissing along the column of your neck. "Why not? I'm curious,” he hums before sucking down on your sweet spot.

Your heart starts to race a little faster, pussy throbbing as Jack’s large hand traces up your body, squeezing your upper thigh. With a deep breath, you pull up the story again, sliding your finger to the part where you left off.

Jack adjusts his position, turning into you, his head resting on a shared pillow. "C’mon baby, let me have it,” he mumbles as his rough fingers draw along your soft skin.

Your voice comes out steady at first, reading a few lines, though. Looking at the next couple of words, you feel your cheeks warm up, skipping a few, but he stops you with a slap to your inner thigh, making you whimper with pleasure. Jack chuckles lustfully at the sound that pours from your lips, turning slightly to get a better look at your pretty face.

“M’gonna let that slide ‘cause you're so fuckin’ sexy,” he mutters drunkenly, his little punishment doing nothing but revving him up more. “You skipped somethin’, sweetheart. Don't cheat me out of the good parts."

"Okay, baby…” You smile.

He chuckles dizzily and leans in closer. "C'mon, keep going. I like hearing you read,” he praises as his fingers cup your pussy, pushing against your sex, making your head fall back. “Keep readin’,” he hums against your ear.

What?" He snickers. "Think I won. Just claiming my prize." He groans as he clutches his hard cock in his fist, running the tip through your soaked folds–

You try your best to focus, your voice trembling slightly as the story's tension heats up. Jack pushes two long fingers inside you, resting his thumb on your clit. "Don’t stop now… I think I’m gonna fuck you, baby. Shit’s gettin’ really, really good," he murmurs, his voice low and raspy.

You clear your throat, trying to disregard him, but he moves between his thighs, lips landing on your shoulder, soft and warm, tracing upwards.

You scream as he slams his long, thick dick deep. “Fuck!” You wail, mouth hanging open as he circles his hips nice and slow–

Your words stumble, fumbling over the last sentence as he loops his massive arms around your thighs, tugging you to your back.

"Jack…" you say, barely louder than a whisper, the phone trembling in your hands as his warm breath fans over your pussy.

"Mhmm," he replies, definitely enjoying your distraction.

–forcing himself as deep as possible, making you exhale a deep breath.

You manage to get a few more words out, shaky and rushed, as Jack flattens his tongue, licking a line up your slick folds. He chuckles against your skin, his breath hot as he presses a kiss against your clit.

"You're terrible at this, pretty," he teases, his grin infuriatingly smug and devastatingly handsome.

"That's because you're distracting me!" You whimper, tossing your phone down in defeat.

Jack laughs as he crawls towards your lips, kissing you tenderly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "I was only tryin’ to help, baby," he whispers innocently before biting and tugging on your bottom lip as he traces up your thigh.

You huff at him playfully, any resolve that may have remained melting as he holds your cheeks in a single hand, puckering your lip. "You're cute when you're flustered," he whispers, kissing your lips.

You gasp as you feel Jack run the tip of something familiar through your glossy folds—too cold to be him, too wide to be his fingers.

“You gonna let me play with you, princess?” Jack asks, letting your cheeks go. You look between your thighs and see your vibrator in his fist, the pink tip glistening with your essence.

You slip your hands down his muscular body as warmth builds in your stomach, rocking your hips as Jack teases you. Wrapping your fingers around Jack’s thick dick, you hear a buzz, feeling the toy tremble, making you squeeze Jack’s cock a little tighter. He moans against your lips, turning it up to the highest setting.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” you pant as he switches his hold, letting the little rabbit's ears flick against your aching pearl.

“Anything?”

“Shit,” you mewl as he drops down to your drooling hole again, letting the swirling head circle your entrance, Jack teasing you with just the tip. “Anything.” Your hips buck up slightly, and Jack pins you down by the hip, holding you in place.

“Mmm... Where are you going, princess?” He asks as your chest rises rapidly, breathing quicker than you were before.

“Fuck, Jack,” you gasp and moan as he stuffs it inside, the toy gliding effortlessly through your wetness. Jack holds it in place, making you squirm and move some more.

“This is just round one…” He whispers against your trembling lips. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy for round two?”

“Yes… Yes, shit. Please fuck me.”

Jack kisses you deeply as he pushes it in and out, making you cry out against his lips, arms drifting around the back of his neck, holding on tight.

"I… Fuck, Jack. I'm gonna cum."

"Tell me when, baby," he breathes through a smile.

"Fuck... Ugh. I'm-" He draws out quickly, plunging his cock inside, robbing you of your breath.

Jack’s big hands grab your hips with a bruising grip as he fucks into you fast and hard, making you see stars. “Jack, Sh-Shit,” you whimper as you cum around his cock, muscles spasming again and again. Jack’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he gives you a few more punishing thrusts, making your breasts bounce as his toned hips smack against you.

You pull him to your lips, kissing him deeply, pushing him to roll yourself on top; his long, thick cock sheathed deep in your cunt still. You whimper at his size, feeling the delicious stretch between your thighs, nails running down his chest as you smile.

“How was that, princess?” He smiles, watching the way your legs tremble, the man gripping your thighs tightly before reaching around, spanking your ass, making your pussy tighten around him.

“So fucking good,” you smile as you throw your head back, rocking your hips, listening to the sounds of your soaked warmth and his deep moans.

Grabbing your phone, you hand it to him with a smile, lifting off his throbbing cock, seeing it sheened with your climax. “We’re not done with the story,” you whisper as you draw backward, slotting yourself between his thighs before running your tongue up his pulsing dick as he looks down at you, half-lidded and desperate.

“You want me to read this while you do that?” He asks dreamily, huffing out a deep, jagged breath as you spit on his tip.

“… C’mon baby, let me have it.”

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

[gf2bellamy]

mistake — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer overhears you and derek talking and he misunderstands your conversation, causing him to distance himself from you. content warnings: mention of being held at gunpoint, biting lip + lip bleeding, spencer being cold a/n: this idea has been stuck in my head for so long !!! i hope you guys like it <33

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the breakroom as you stood by the counter, suppressing a yawn behind your hand.

Derek Morgan leaned casually against the counter, his coffee mug in hand, watching you. “You okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his tone despite the casual delivery. 

You glanced at him, offering a crooked smile. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that today…” you trailed off, finishing your coffee preparation.

Moving aside to let Derek reach the machine, you took your first sip, savoring the warmth against your lips. “I’ve been saying the same thing all morning—I’m fine.” 

Morgan arched a skeptical brow, filling his mug. “You were held at gunpoint two days ago,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. 

You shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “And nothing happened. I’m fine,” you repeated firmly. 

“Tell that to Pretty Boy,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. 

Confused, you turned to face him fully, eyebrows raised. “Why?” 

Derek chuckled, leaning against the counter as he studied your reaction. “He was driving everyone insane while you were in that house. Emily nearly bit his head off.” 

The image of Reid pacing anxiously, rattling off statistics and scenarios, flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t suppress a faint smile. “Hotch got me out. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” 

At that moment, the sound of footsteps and muffled voices drifted from the hallway as other team members began filtering in, but Derek’s gaze stayed locked on you, serious now. “You know Reid would do anything for you, right?” 

You froze, his words hitting like a direct shot to your chest. The air in the room seemed to thicken, your grip tightening around your coffee cup.

“Yeah,” you mumbled after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Derek didn’t look away. “Good,” he said simply, though his tone suggested he wasn’t convinced you fully understood the weight of it. 

You took another sip of your coffee, your gaze fixed on the countertop as the warmth seeped through the ceramic into your hands.

The thought of Reid’s concern—his constant, almost obsessive worrying—made your chest ache. It was a strange sensation, both comforting and upsetting, like being wrapped in a blanket too tight to breathe.

“I don’t like it,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. 

Morgan’s sharp ears caught it instantly. He raised an eyebrow, his posture shifting as his curiosity piqued. “What’s there not to like?” 

You hesitated, the words tangling in your throat. The memories flashed unbidden in your mind—situations where Reid had thrown himself into danger without hesitation, his only concern being you. The way he’d rushed headlong into harm’s way, ignoring all logic and training. The sleepless nights where you’d caught him pacing, the worry etched so deeply into his features that you couldn’t shake the guilt. 

“It worries me sometimes that…” you started, trailing off as your grip tightened around the mug. 

Morgan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That…?” he prompted, his voice softer now, coaxing the rest of your thought. 

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat stubbornly refusing to go away. “That he cares too much,” you admitted finally, though the words felt heavier than you expected. “He’s put himself in danger for me before. More than once. And I don’t like making him worry. I…” You stopped yourself, realizing you were about to reveal too much. “I don’t know,” you finished lamely, shaking your head and taking another sip to avoid meeting Morgan’s gaze. 

Derek didn’t respond right away, his silence stretching just long enough to make you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was studying you. 

Derek opened his mouth, a reply forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Emily poked her head into the room.

“Hey, we’ve got a case,” she announced, disappearing just as quickly as she’d arrived. 

Relieved by the interruption, you exhaled quietly and gave Derek a quick smile. “Guess we’ll finish this later,” you said lightly, already moving toward the door before he could reply.

Derek watched you leave, his expression unreadable, before standing and following at his own pace. 

You entered the briefing room, greeted by the sight of Garcia standing at the front, beaming as usual. Her bright pink outfit, complete with colorful accessories, added an air of cheerfulness to the otherwise somber atmosphere. 

“Hi, you two,” Garcia chirped, her voice full of warmth as you and Derek walked in. 

“Hey, Garcia,” you said with a small smile, settling into your usual seat at the table. Derek took the chair directly in front of you, glancing at his phone. 

Moments later, Spencer entered the room. Your eyes instinctively flicked to him, your lips parting to greet him, but he didn’t look your way.

Instead, he avoided your gaze entirely, his expression carefully neutral as he chose a seat farther away—one that was decidedly not next to you. 

You blinked, surprised. Confusion prickled at your thoughts as you watched him pretend to bury himself in the case file that Garcia handed him.

Normally, Spencer greeted you with an enthusiastic smile or a quiet, thoughtful comment. This coldness was unlike him. 

Your eyes shifted to Derek, silently seeking an explanation. He met your gaze, one eyebrow raised, but said nothing. 

“Here you go,” Garcia whispered, slipping a file into your hands. She leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Did you two argue?” 

“What? No,” you whispered back quickly, shaking your head. 

But as the team slowly trickled into the room, it became clear you weren’t the only one noticing the strange tension.

One by one, each team member did a double-take when they saw Spencer’s choice of seat. Everyone knew the two of you were close.

Sitting next to each other during briefings was practically tradition. 

Yet there he was, pointedly looking at his file as if he hadn’t broken that unspoken rule. 

You tried not to let it show, but your heart sank a little as you flipped open your own file. The questions swirled in your mind: Was it something you said? Something you did? 

For the rest of the meeting, you forced yourself to focus on the case, determined to push the nagging thoughts aside. But every now and then, your eyes drifted toward him, hoping for a hint of what was wrong. 

And every time, Spencer Reid refused to meet your gaze. 

Once Garcia finished explaining the details of the case and the team had hashed out the initial plan, Hotch’s voice brought the meeting to a close.

“Wheels up in 20,” he said, and everyone began gathering their things. 

You hesitated, lingering in your seat as the others started filing out of the room. Your eyes flickered toward Spencer, silently willing him to look your way, to give some kind of indication that everything was okay.

But he didn’t. 

Instead, he moved quickly, clutching his file tightly as he left the room in a rush. His long strides carried him away before you could even think of stopping him. You bit your lip, frustration and confusion bubbling up as you watched him disappear down the hall. 

Shaking it off, you grabbed your things and followed the rest of the team, trying to focus on the case rather than the knot of uncertainty twisting in your chest. 

By the time you boarded the jet, you weren’t surprised anymore when you saw Spencer seated far away from his usual spot next to you. He was already absorbed in his file, his profile turned slightly away, making it clear he wasn’t about to acknowledge you. 

Your heart sank a little, but you forced yourself not to dwell on it. Instead, you slid into your regular seat, pulling out your file to prepare for the mission. If Spencer wanted to play distant, you’d let him—for now. 

Emily settled into the seat across from you, her eyes scanning your face with curiosity. You tried to ignore her, keeping your focus on the pages in front of you, but her gaze burned into you. 

Minutes passed, the hum of the jet engine filling the silence, but Emily didn’t look away. Finally, you sighed, snapping the file shut as you met her stare. 

“Emily,” you said, your tone equal parts exasperated and pleading. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice low but insistent. 

“Nothing,” you replied too quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.” 

“Don’t give me that.” Emily leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You and Spencer haven’t looked at each other once since this morning. That’s not normal. Did something happen?” 

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line as you considered how much to say. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the file. “He’s been… off. Avoiding me.” 

Emily tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. “Did you talk to him?” 

“I didn’t exactly get the chance,” you said with a bitter laugh, glancing toward the back of the jet where Spencer sat. He hadn’t looked up once, his focus seemingly glued to the pages in front of him. “And even if I did, I don’t know what I’d say.” 

Emily followed your gaze, her brows knitting together in thought. “He’s probably overthinking something,” she said, her tone conspiratorial but kind. “You know how he gets.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, but doubt lingered in your voice. 

Emily reached across the table, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “Give him time. And if he doesn’t snap out of it soon, you’ll have to be the one to say something. He’s not exactly known for his social bravery, you know.” 

You managed a small smile at that, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. But as you glanced toward Spencer one last time, the knot in your chest only tightened. 

You stared out the window, watching the clouds stretch across the sky as the jet hummed steadily beneath you. The rhythmic sound was almost soothing, but it did little to calm the chaos of your thoughts.

You didn’t notice Derek slip into the seat next to you until his voice cut through your haze. “Hey, pretty girl.” He nudged your shoulder lightly, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You blinked, focusing on his familiar face. “Hi,” you smiled softly at your friend, grateful for the distraction, even if it was brief. 

Derek’s expression shifted from playful to serious. “I talked to him,” he said quietly. 

Your interest piqued immediately. You turned your head toward him, eyes searching his face for any hint of what had been said.

“What’d he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear. 

Derek leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced toward Spencer at the back of the jet. “Nothing,” he said simply, his tone flat. 

You frowned, your gaze following Derek’s to Spencer.

For the first time today, Spencer’s eyes met yours—just for a moment—but it felt like an eternity. He quickly looked away, like he was ashamed to have caught you looking. 

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” you pressed, feeling a pang of frustration twist in your stomach. 

“I mean, he said there’s nothing wrong,” Derek replied, his voice low. His eyes followed Spencer again, and you could tell he wasn’t buying it either. 

You shot Derek a skeptical look. “He can’t seriously think anyone would believe that.” Your voice was laced with disbelief. 

Before Derek could respond, Emily, who had been quietly listening from the seat in front of you, leaned back and added her voice to the conversation.

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily on your shoulders. The uncertainty was overwhelming, but the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

“It's okay,” you said quietly, offering Derek a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks for asking anyway.” You tried to sound convincing, but your heart wasn’t in it. You didn’t want to delve deeper into this conversation, not now.

Derek gave you a long look, as if he wanted to press the matter further, but instead, he nodded and leaned back in his seat. Emily, too, remained silent, though you could tell she wasn’t ready to drop it. 

The rest of the flight passed in a heavy, unspoken quiet. You kept your attention on your file, reading the same paragraph over and over without really processing any of it.

Hotch was all business as usual, his stern voice cutting through the quiet hum of the jet.

He glanced briefly at his team before issuing instructions, his usual calm demeanor masking the weight of the case ahead. 

“Derek and Emily, I want you to speak with the families of the victims,” Hotch said, his eyes meeting the two of them briefly before shifting toward Rossi. “Rossi, you’ll be with me at the morgue.” 

Your stomach sank at the mention of your assignment. You knew what was coming, and so did Spencer. You exchanged a fleeting glance—brief, but heavy.

Then came Hotch’s eyes, locking onto yours. “You two will handle the geographical profile,” he said, his voice leaving little room for argument. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the assignment. Hotch knew that you and Spencer worked well together, but today, it felt like he was trying to push you into a situation that neither of you were ready for. 

The jet seemed quieter now, as if everyone could sense the unease simmering beneath the surface.

You glanced at Spencer once more, but he was already looking down at his file again, his brows furrowed in concentration, his face a mask of indifference.

You wanted to say something, ask Spencer what was going on, but you didn’t know where to start.

 The jet had finally touched down, and after gathering their things, the team made their way to the station.

You followed behind, taking in the familiar sights of the small town where another case was waiting to be solved.

Once inside the conference room, the rest of the team split off to tackle their individual tasks.

Hotch, Derek, Emily, and Rossi were all busy making preparations, leaving just you and Spencer to tackle the geographical profile.

The police officers handed you a stack of maps—crumpled and worn—offering their best attempt at providing the information you needed. You nodded and murmured your thanks before walking back toward the table where Spencer was already settling in.

You placed the maps down with a soft thud, but before you could sit, you glanced at Spencer.

His eyes were fixed on the maps in front of him, his hands already sorting through them mechanically, as if the world around him didn’t exist. 

“Spence,” you said softly, almost hesitantly. You had hoped this moment wouldn’t come, that the silence would resolve itself, but you couldn’t keep pretending anymore. 

He barely looked up at the sound of his name, but you caught the brief flicker of his eyes—a fleeting glance that was almost too quick to notice. 

“Hm?” he responded absently, his focus still on the maps as his fingers traced over the inked lines of streets and neighborhoods. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, a quiet plea hanging in the air between you.

Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was something else. Something outside of you that had put this strange distance between the two of you. 

Spencer’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for the briefest moment, you saw it—something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t frustration.

It was hurt.

Pain that you hadn’t expected to see in his eyes. 

He seemed to freeze for just a moment, and you felt your heart hammer in your chest, suddenly unsure of what to say next. 

He shook his head, his face hardening slightly, as if he was trying to pull himself back from whatever had just flickered in his eyes.

“Talk about what?” he asked, his tone a little colder than usual. His voice was quiet but firm—too firm, almost as if he were trying to put up a wall between you and him. 

You felt a lump form in your throat. "Did I—" 

Before you could finish, Spencer cut you off, his voice tight with something you couldn’t quite place. “We have to get started on this,” he said, his words sharp but careful. 

With a slow exhale, you nodded, though it didn’t come easily. "Right." You lowered your gaze, your fingers gripping the edges of the map in front of you as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Spencer didn’t say anything more. Instead, he reached for a marker and started drawing a rough outline on one of the maps.

The usual warmth that he brought to these situations—his quiet intelligence, his willingness to collaborate—was nowhere to be found. 

As the moments stretched on, the weight of the silence became harder to ignore.

You both busied yourselves with the task at hand. Every time you glanced at him, Spencer’s face remained unreadable, his gaze focused solely on the maps.

The others trickled in later that night, the sound of the door opening followed by the rustle of bags and the smell of fast food wafting through the room.

Derek and Emily both carried bags filled with food, the scents of greasy burgers and fries a welcome distraction from the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the team. 

"Seems like it’s gonna be a long night," Rossi sighed, his voice deep with the exhaustion that had already begun to settle into his bones. He dropped down into one of the chairs around the conference table. 

You barely looked up, your stomach growling in protest. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell of food hit you.

Without a second thought, you grabbed one of the boxes of fries from Derek’s hand and sat down, your back against the cool metal of the chair as you dug into the food.

“Thanks,” you murmured around a mouthful, not looking up as you continued to eat. 

The others began settling in, the murmurs of conversation filling the room, but there was one sound that was noticeably absent—the sound of Spencer's voice.

It had been hours since the awkward exchange between you and him, and you hadn’t had a chance to talk since.

You barely noticed when Spencer walked past the table until he mumbled something under his breath, barely audible over the low hum of the team settling in. 

"I'm not hungry." 

You kept eating, trying to distract yourself, but your heart ached in a way you couldn’t explain.

You missed Spencer’s warmth,the way you’d work side by side, always in sync.

But now, there was nothing.

You had no idea what had happened—what had gone wrong. And that uncertainty gnawed at you, making your chest tighten every time you thought about it. 

You glanced up, watching as Spencer’s figure slipped quietly out of the room, his back to you as he moved toward the hallway.

Rossi, who had been watching the scene unfold, raised an eyebrow at the silent exchange.

Derek, who had been digging into his food, finally looked up at you. His face was usually so open, so easy to read, but right now, there was something in his expression that mirrored Emily’s. 

“Hey,” Derek said, his voice gentle but direct. “You alright?” 

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice to answer. You were trying so hard to hold it together, to focus on the task at hand, but all you could feel was Spencer’s absence.

"Yeah," you finally murmured, forcing a small smile. "Just hungry."

The case was wrapped up by the next day after a grueling night of work, punctuated by greasy fast food and a few stolen naps here and there.

The sense of relief was palpable as the team boarded the jet for the flight back home. The usual hum of quiet conversation and rustling papers filled the cabin, but you didn’t participate.

Instead, you sank into one of the plush seats and fell asleep almost immediately, your exhaustion taking over the moment you closed your eyes. 

Spencer sat across the aisle, his book open in his lap, though his eyes weren’t scanning the pages.

Instead, they were fixed on you.

The rise and fall of your chest, the way your head tilted slightly to the side as you rested—he couldn’t help but watch. It was a habit he’d developed over the years, this quiet observation of you. But now, it was tinged with something heavier. 

He missed you. 

Usually, these flights home were his favorite part of the job. You’d either challenge him to a card game, always finding new ways to try and outwit him (and sometimes succeeding), or you’d sit beside him and attempt to read over his shoulder.

He could still hear your exasperated sighs whenever he turned the page too quickly, knowing you barely managed to finish the first paragraph before he’d already moved on.

He could only sit there, the book forgotten in his hands, as he replayed the words that had been haunting him since the case started. 

“I don’t like it.” 

He hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation between you and Derek, but he had.

The way Derek had said, almost teasingly, that Spencer would do anything for you—it had been the truth.

Spencer would do anything for you. He cared about you in ways that he couldn’t fully articulate, in ways that went beyond logic or reason. But it was your response that had cut through him like a knife. 

“I don’t like it.” 

Those four words had been replaying in his head, over and over again, like a broken record. At first, he tried to rationalize it.

Maybe you were just joking, or maybe he’d misunderstood the context. But no matter how he tried to spin it, the meaning stayed the same. 

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like him caring about you. 

The realization had been like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t meant to be a bother, hadn’t realized that his presence, his actions—his feelings—might be unwelcome.

It tore at him, the thought that his care might have been suffocating, that it might have pushed you away instead of bringing you closer. 

He closed his book with a soft thud, unable to focus on the words anymore. His gaze drifted back to you, still sleeping.

He wondered if you had any idea how much you meant to him. If you knew how much he valued every moment you spent together, every smile, every laugh. 

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe he’d cared too much, given too much of himself. And in doing so, he’d crossed some invisible line, made you feel something you couldn’t say aloud. 

Spencer sighed quietly, leaning back in his seat as he stared out the window. He wanted to talk to you, to ask what you’d meant, to understand.

But the fear of hearing the truth—that he was a burden, that you didn’t want his care—kept his words locked tightly inside. 

So, he sat in silence, watching you sleep from afar.

Emily’s gentle touch on your shoulder roused you from your nap. The hum of the jet engines had stopped, and as you blinked yourself awake, you realized that nearly everyone else had already left.

You grabbed your bag groggily, trailing after Emily as she led the way off the plane. 

Once back at the BAU, you headed to your desk to grab a few last-minute things before heading home. The bullpen was mostly empty now, the soft glow of desk lamps casting long shadows across the space.

But your steps faltered when you noticed Spencer still seated at his desk, his focus seemingly glued to a stack of papers in front of him. 

You hesitated, debating whether to say something. But you couldn’t stop yourself—it was instinctual, this pull to check on him, to make sure he was okay.

Because you cared about him. 

“You should go home, Spence,” you said softly, standing at your desk across from his. The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, and you winced, worried it might irritate him further. 

Spencer’s head jerked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before they darted back to the papers on his desk. “Still need to get some paperwork done,” he mumbled, his voice low and distant as he picked up his pen again. 

That was it. That response—cold, dismissive, and completely unlike him—pushed you to your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore, the distance, the tension, the ache of not knowing what you’d done to make him pull away. 

“Spencer, did I do something? Or did—” you started, your words tumbling out in a rush, driven by the desperate need for answers. 

His hand froze mid-sentence, the pen hovering above the page. Slowly, he set it down, his movements deliberate as he leaned back in his chair.

For the first time in what felt like days, he looked directly at you—really looked at you. 

His expression was a mix of weariness and pain, and it stopped you in your tracks. 

“Did you do something?” he repeated quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d asked the question. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No, you didn’t do anything. Not really.” 

“Then why—” You gestured helplessly between the two of you, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you acting like this? Like you don’t even want to be near me?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and he glanced away, staring down at his desk. 

“I don’t wanna seem like I care too much,” Spencer said, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and hurt.

You stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft hum of the neon light above you, its flicker almost mocking the distance now between you. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly. 

Spencer stood abruptly, his gaze sharp as he grabbed his bag, avoiding your eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered, his tone flat.

“Hey, no,” you said, walking toward him, your steps firm despite the tightening in your chest.

“No, you don’t get to do this, Spencer.” You stood in front of him now, blocking his path, your heart racing as he glared down at you. “You can’t just shut me out and then expect me to move on like nothing happened.” 

He didn’t respond at first, but you could feel the tension rolling off him, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

You bit your lip hard, the pain sharp as you tried to keep your composure. Blood welled up, a bitter tang on your tongue, but it barely registered as you looked into his eyes, searching for something—anything—that would tell you where you stood. 

Spencer’s gaze flicked down to your lip, his eyes softening for a moment as if the sight of you hurting made him hurt too.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking in a slow breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, tinged with regret. 

“You said you don’t like it,” he murmured, his words hesitant. 

Your heart skipped a beat.You had no idea where this was going, but you felt the space between the two of you growing heavier with each passing second. You swallowed, your eyes flitting nervously across his face as you stepped closer to him. 

“Don’t like what?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of pushing him further away with a raised tone. 

Spencer’s gaze fixed on you, his disappointment clear. “You don’t like that I would do anything for you,” he said, his voice breaking just slightly. 

The words struck you like a punch to the gut, and you took a step back. Memories of your conversation with Derek came flooding back—his words, the concern in his voice.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you barely registered Spencer’s disappointed stare. 

“I heard your conversation,” he added, his voice distant, wounded. 

“Did you hear all of it?” you asked, your eyes searching his, the confusion on your face undeniable. 

“What?” he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“The rest of what I said,” you clarified, your voice softening as you felt the distance between you begin to close.

You gave him a small, tender smile, one that barely reached your eyes. “I assume you didn’t hear what I said after that.” 

Spencer's shoulders slumped slightly, the tension draining from his body, but the disappointment remained. “I heard enough,” he replied. 

You sighed, your hand reaching out to gently touch his.

“I also told Derek that you care too much.” Spencer flinched at your words, as though they pained him, and you felt a flicker of guilt. But you weren’t done yet. “I’m not finished.” 

He looked at you, eyes wide with something close to fear, as if bracing for the words that might break him.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your emotions. “I said that I’m worried you endanger yourself for me. Look, Spence…” you hesitated, your throat tightening, “I don’t like making you worry. That’s why I said what I said. It scares me that you put yourself in danger. For me.” 

As your words lingered in the air, Spencer’s face softened, and his eyes flickered with a sudden realization.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and for a moment, he looked almost fragile, as though the weight of everything had suddenly hit him. 

“I… I didn’t mean—” His words caught in his throat, and he stumbled over his apology. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood everything. I should’ve listened better. I shouldn’t have assumed…” His voice broke. “I'm sorry.I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. I care about you so much, and I… I just… I’m sorry.” 

The rawness of his apology struck you harder than you expected. You could feel the sincerity in every word.

But before you could say anything, the urge to hold him—comfort him—overwhelmed you. 

Without thinking, you stepped forward, your arms reaching around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body grounding you, and for the first time all day, the chaos inside you started to settle. 

Spencer stood still for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden closeness. But then he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

You could feel the rapid beating of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own. 

You closed your eyes, your voice soft but steady as you spoke into his neck, your words laced with emotion. “Spence… I care about you more than you’ll ever know,” you murmured, your hand gently stroking the back of his head as if to comfort him. “I don’t like being away from you. The thought of you putting yourself in danger for me… it’s just too much.” 

You felt Spencer's breath hitch against your skin, and he tightened his arms around you, as if trying to reassure himself that you were really there, that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“I know I should’ve said it better,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t care.” 

Spencer’s grip tightened. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your waist.

His eyes searching yours with a mixture of tenderness and uncertainty. “You mean everything to me, you know that? I just… I just don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know how to stop myself sometimes.” 

You smiled softly. “I know, Spence.” 

He nodded slowly, a faint but genuine smile tugging at his lips as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, but you shook your head. 

“Yes, you do,” you whispered back, holding him even tighter, as if reaffirming your place in each other's lives.