#anyways i slept all day so i'm going back to sleep now

[bizzyboysbizzydays]

Coughing up blood hey i'm still gay gay homosexual gay

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

won't you spare me another year ?

synopsis : you want to be the first person to wish your katsuki a happy birthday every year <3

an. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!

cw. nothing, pure fluff!!! also fem reader!

"5..4...3...2...1...aaaand—happy birthday, katsuki !!"

katsuki groans sleepily as your arms tighten around him. "you're fucking insane. it's midnight."

"it's your birthday !" you defend quietly, pouting up at him. he looks down at you and chuckles.

"ya could've just let me sleep and told me that shit in the morning, would've still been m'birthday." he yawns, wiping his eyes. you shoot up to press a kiss to his cheek, leaning into his space more to kiss him all over while he pretends to try and push you off when you roll on top of him. you both ignore how he immediately goes to squeezing your hips when you settle on top.

"i could've, but then there would've been a chance i slept in too long and then i wouldn't have been the first one to wish you happy birthday."

"so my birthday's a competition now ?"

"yup. and i plan to be first every year." you giggle, he rolls his eyes but can't hide the smile growing on his face.

"clingy brat.." he mumbles, he kisses you back anyways when your lips reach his.

"you love me." you counter.

"mm, whatever." he waves off, grabbing the back of your head to bring your lips back to his. you squeal as he tries to deepen the kiss. "you're being greedy." you warn, lips smushed against his.

"s'my birthday, means i get what i wan’, right ? and since you're gonna keep me awake, could at the very least gimme a proper damn kiss." he says between kisses, it makes you laugh against his mouth and he smiles. when you pull away, you lean in to press a long, lasting kiss on the scar right below his eye. you can feel the way the muscles in his face drop and his arms tighten around you in surprise.

"happy birthday, katsuki. i'm glad i can spend another year with you." you whisper earnestly, looking down at him like he'd hung up the moon and the stars for you. unfortunately, it seems that was too much sincerity for your poor boyfriend. he squints, his massive palms enveloping your face to squeeze your cheeks.

"y-yeah, yeah. quit bein' sappy..." he huffs. you feel his thumb run against your bottom lip when he glances up at you, ears tinted pink as he quietly whispers out a "thanks...".

you don't need to say anymore, smiling as you lay on his chest. you hum "what do you wanna do for your birthday ?"

"stay in and fuckin' sleep." is his simple response, you can't help but snort.

"and nothing else ?" you look up at him.

he looks down at you "sounds like you got something you're hiding from me." he asks, suspiciously raising a brow.

you scoff, looking away "pffff, me ? no way..."you lie, your voice going airy.

you’re being grabbed by your cheeks in an instant and katsuki’s not deterred by your whining "you're a shit liar."

"i plead the fifth."

"plead my ass." katsuki scoffs, squishing your cheeks in his palm. "i hate being out of the loop on shit, you know that."

"would it kill you to not be a killjoy ? where's your whimsy ? your child's soul ?" you whine.

"whatever the fuck that means." katsuki snarks. you laugh again, and he rolls his eyes. "as long as whatever you got planned doesn't take up my whole damn day, then do what you want."

now it's your turn to roll your eyes "no need to worry, i won't be interfering with your plans to sleep in."

"our plans. you're not going anywhere." your boyfriend corrects.

"i have no say in it, do i ?" you tease.

he pokes your cheek. "nope. s'my birthday." he responds simply.

you laugh "you're using that as some sort of cheat code now ?"

when your laughter dies down he's still looking down at you. eyes, droopy with sleep sure, but with something soft inside of them. they glow illuminated by the light of the moon outside.

"what ?"

"nuffin." he sighs, still just looking down at you. his fingers run across your face, your cheeks and eyebrows and nose so softly, so unlike him (he of course has to take the opportunity to squeeze your nose, but you decide not to ruin the moment).

"yeah, right. c'mon what is it?" you urge. katsuki scoffs "so damn persistent." he reprimands. he shushes you when you remind him that "that's why you like me so much!"

"m'just..thinkin'."

"about..?" you wiggle higher up until you can kiss his chin. he sighs again , smiling to himself.

"about...this really annoying girl."

you glare up at him, he smirks. "oh yeah ?" you deadpan.

"oh, yeah. a real pain in the ass. always talkin' back to me and bothering me. planning surprises and other stupid things for my birthday every year. " he taunts.

you roll your eyes again "she sounds like a fun time. sounds to me like you just don't know how to have any fun." you grouch. katsuki laughs, of course he does, dickhead.

"yeah, well. as annoying as she is...she is a pretty damn fun time." he admits softly "real damn sweet too...probably too sweet for me.."

you look up at him in surprise. he squeezes your nose to avoid you and you swipe at his hand. he continues talking while you're distracted. "but i'm glad she chose to be with an asshole like me, and..." he leans down to press a peck between your brows.

"..and there's nothing else i'd like more for my birthday then to spend it with her again next year. even if we do lame, boring shit like staying in or doing whatever."

you feel your heart squeeze almost painfully tight. your cheeks pull up so hard you feel your jaw hurt, but you're so unbearably happy.

so unbearably happy you get to spend another year of his life with him.

you lean in to kiss him. "well, i don't know about her surprises, but mine's gonna blow your socks off. s'gonna make you cry like you did last year."

he scoffs, planting another kiss to your lips. "i didn't cry, dickwad. that's your mind making shit up." he denies.

"yeah, okay" you laugh, and with one final kiss you pull back to look at your love, with all the love you had for him. "happy birthday, katsuki."

and he smiles back, softly, and only reserved for moments like this with you.

yeah, it sure was. happy fuckin' birthday to him.

[fireinmoonshot]

maybe one day | robert reynolds x reader

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Reader Summary: Every time you wake up from a nightmare, Bob is there to help you get back to sleep. This time, however, is a little different. Warnings: Mentions of nightmares and traumatic pasts (nothing specific). It's also fairly angsty. Word Count: 1k A/N: It's been a while! I have been in the depths of a writing slump for the past three weeks or so but Thunderbolts has seemingly brought me out of it. I assumed it would be Bucky that did that but it ended up being Bob... I love him. He's been living rent free in my head ever since I saw the movie last night. I just had to write about him. This fic is just a small one, as obviously it's the first thing I've written since falling into a slump, but I'm pretty proud of it. Bob is very different to write for (especially different to Joaquín who is all I've been writing for lately) so I hope I've done him justice. I look forward to continuing to write for him!

The bedroom is still dark when you wake up. The only sign that you’re not alone in the room is the faint silhouette of someone sitting in the armchair at the end of your bed and the steady sound of fingers tapping against the material of the chair. Strangely, the presence isn’t scary but comforting. There’s only one person it could be. 

“Was I having another nightmare?” You ask. 

You’d woken up to the feeling of your bed shaking gently. It isn’t an unfamiliar feeling – you’ve woken up this way several times in the past few months. It’s Bob’s way of waking you up without shaking you awake himself.  Using the most minimal of his powers to help you.

While he’s not in control of his powers, he can’t risk hurting you. Even just holding your hand could send you into one of your worst memories. And like all of the other members of your team, back in New York you’d been forced to live through them all because of the Void. 

Since then, you and Bob had become closer. You’d all moved into the old Avengers tower now that you were the new Avengers. Bob’s room had been across the hall from yours. He’d heard your screams from the first nightmare and had been there to wake you up from them  almost every night since. Most nights, he sits by your bed to keep you company until you fall back asleep. It’s not the most efficient way to help, he knows. But the last thing he’d ever want to do is to accidentally send you back into the memories that had given you so much trauma.

“You were.”

You sit up properly in your bed and reach out a hand to turn on the lamp that sits on your bedside table. The bulb is dull, only bright enough to bring a dark yellow glow to the room but it’s enough for you to be able to see Bob. He looks exhausted.

“Have you gotten any sleep tonight? What time is it?” 

“I slept a little,” he nods. “I don’t know what time it is. Three a.m? Four, maybe.”

You stifle a yawn and run a hand through your hair. It’s thick with sweat, courtesy of the nightmare you’d been having – though you’re thankful that you don’t remember exactly what it was about tonight. “You should go back to sleep, Bob.”

“I will when you do.”

For a moment, you simply look at him. The way he looks at you despite his exhaustion doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You can see the worry in his eyes, the way his eyebrows are drawn and his lips are a little pursed. You want nothing more than to crawl to the end of your bed, reach out a hand and tug him up so he can crawl into bed with you and hold you while you fall asleep. But you know that he’d never allow himself to do something like that.

“Will you stay with me?” You ask anyway.

Bob hesitates, opening his mouth and then closing it again before he shakes his head. “You know that I can’t. I can’t until I know I can control it. I won’t put you through that again.”

“I’ll put a pillow barrier up,” you offer. Bob lets out a small laugh at your words. “I mean it, Bob. I want you to stay with me. Not on the chair at the end of my bed, not on the floor. In the bed, beside me. If you can’t hold me, that’s the next best thing.”

Bob sighs and stands up from the chair before heading around to the opposite side of the bed and pulling back the covers. You smile to yourself as you grab an extra pillow and place it in the middle of the bed. Once your head hits your own pillow again, you can look right beside you and into Bob’s eyes. It’s the closest you think he’s ever let himself get to you. 

“Can I try something?” You ask, voice soft.

He nods once, though you can see he’s a little concerned that you might be about to rip down the pillow barrier and latch yourself onto him, as if you’d ever do something like that without his consent first.

You raise a hand, palm towards him, and smile as you see him raise his own hand. He moves it towards yours, just hovering it next to your hand. You can almost feel the warmth radiating off of his skin. His hand is so close to yours that you could move the smallest bit and brush your fingers against his, though you restrain yourself. 

“I wish I could hold your hand,” Bob mutters quietly, voice a little muffled by the pillow.

“Me, too,” you hum, watching as your hands dance close together. “I want to know what it feels like to touch you. To have your fingers entwine with mine. To feel your skin against my skin. Is that weird to say?”

Bob shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I want that too.”

“Maybe one day?”

He looks away from your hands and meets your eyes. “One day.” It’s not a maybe. It’s a certainty. Once he can control his powers. He removes his hand from the air and tucks it underneath the blankets. “You should sleep now.” 

“I will when you do,” you murmur, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open as your hand falls onto the pillow in-between the two of you, a sudden wave of sleepiness overtaking you.

Bob smiles to himself as he watches your eyes flutter closed and sleep takes hold of you. He’s glad he stayed. Even if all he wants is to push the pillow away and pull you into his arms. Even though he’s probably not going to get a wink of sleep while he lays beside you, too content with just watching you sleep, seeing how peaceful you look.

But as long as that pillow stays in place, you’re safe. Until he can control his powers, this is the way things have to be. To keep you safe from the nightmares. From the Void. From him. 

[leviraaaaaa]

“Your hands are fucking cold.”

You freeze when one of his eyes peer open, your hands pausing on his face where you were tracing his cheek.

You'd been awake for a few minutes now, watching him sleep. As the light sleeper he was, you knew you shouldn't be touching him when he's asleep. But he was lying just beside you, all curled and comfortable, his dark hair disheveled and his face so soft, you couldn't resist.

“Did I wake you?” You whispered.

“No.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes again. “Been up for a while. Just resting my eyes.”

You smile a little, scooching closer to him under the blanket. You could feel his body heat through the thin shirt he wore. “Never thought I'd see you lazing around.”

“It's weekend.”

“Since when do you care about weekends?”

“Fucks sake.” He groaned in response, scowling. His eyes opened as he shot a heatless glare at you. “It's one day I take a break and I'm facing a fucking interrogation. I'm getting up.”

With that said, before you could process what was happening, there was an empty space beside your arms and a blatant lack of warmth. You blinked confusedly.

"Hey—what? No!” You protested, but you were slightly late. He was already out of bed. You pushed yourself up to a half-sitting position, trying to keep your eyes open.

“What no?” He asked, glancing at you sideways as he stretched out his arms.

“Get back under here! I'm sorry!”

“Weren't you the one pestering me that I was laying around?” His raised his brow.

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want you to leave!” You whined.

He sighed, turning to the bedside table. He picked up the watch that lied on it. “It's way too late anyways. I need to get my shit done.”

“What shit?” You grumbled, half rising and crawling to the edge of the bed. You tilted your head to get a glimpse of the watch in his hand. “It's seven.”

He raised a brow at you questioningly and you are appalled.

“Levi, it's seven. On a weekend. Seven.”

“What's your point?”

You gaped at him for a few seconds, mouth parted. What kind of a psychopath were you dating?

“Sleep in?” You suggested, like it was obvious. “Please?”

Levi scoffed like you said something funny and you weren't sure how you should be feeling.

“You never get any rest!” Annoyance creeped into your tone as you glared at him. Why did this man hate life so much?

He doesn't respond, blatantly ignoring you as he slipped his feet through his slippers.

“Levi. Just sleep a little more. Come on.”

“I've slept enough.” He mumbled. “It's seven in the fucking morning.”

The absolute disgusted face you made at that statement was unreal. The absolute mortification you felt at that statement was unreal. You knew your boyfriend had serious issues, with insomnia and shit, and that he woke up early. He always left bed before you even woke up but you never thought it was serious to the point he got up at seven on a weekend. What time did he get up on normal days then?

You brainstormed fast. You really, really wanted him to come back here.

“Look!” You pushed your arms out the blanket, wiggling them around to get Levi's attention. It did. Levi was frowning, confused. “Look!”

“What?”

“Cold hand. Colder feet. I am freezing.” You said seriously “As my boyfriend, it'd be very rude of you to leave me to freeze to death.”

“You're under a damn blanket, stop being dramatic.” He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, and? You're warmer.”

“The fuck?’’ Levi looked at you. “Am I your personal human shaped heater or some shit?”

You considered. “...kinda?”

“You little shit.”

“No, okay, listen.” You sat up fully straight now, all sleepiness gone. You were on a mission and you were not going to rest until you succeeded. “I don't know who told you what but it's not a crime to sleep on weekends.”

Levi did not look convinced. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you. “Sure you'd know all about sleeping in. Takes the whole squad to wake you even on regular days.”

You shrugged. If he was trying to shame you, he was failing. You were a proud bed-rotter and not even Levi could overcome your love for naps (he came very close). “Yes,” You agreed, then pulled up the blanket and patted the empty spot beside you where he was resting before. “Now get in and let me teach you the blessings that weekends are.”

He stared at you. You stared back.

“Ackerman, do not make me come out there and drag you in, okay? I am cold, I will be colder. And then I will be pissed for the rest of the day.”

He watched you for a couple seconds, all grumpy and gloomy and serious, your messy hair on your head like a dark cloud hanging over. With your sleepy eyes and pouty lips, it was tempting. Highly. Even for him.

He considered. Paperwork. Erwin. Whatnot. He glanced back at you.

Dignity. He prayed silently. Walls, spare him dignity. Fuck it, he should really get going.

Should he?

Screw dignity. He caved.

“Fine.”

Your eyes instantly lit up, almost jumping in happiness when he sat back down. Enthusiastically, you pushed the blanket on him, wrapping your arms around him the moment he lied down, trapping him to ensure he can't change his mind. Your legs find his legs and you pushed them between them, scooting closer until you're practically flattened against him, snuggled against his chest, absorbing the warmth he offered, your eyes closing almost immediately. An arm wraps snugly around your waist and you swear you're half asleep right then and there.

“I didn't come back for you.” You hear him say. A man's gotta defend his pride after all. But you noticed the flush on his cheeks.

“Sure not.” You reply as you yawn.

“Serious. Don't think this'd always work. I just didn't have the mood to deal with paperwork.”

“Uh huh.” You were not convinced. Not the slightest bit.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I'm not.”

“You are. You're turning this into some gooey shit and it's weirding me out.”

“Okay. Whatever.” You nodded mockingly. “Says the guy who's here cuddling with me and getting blushy blushy. I'm sure this isn't gooey shit.”

“Fuckd sake.” He draped an arm over his face in fluster. “If you don't shut up, I will leave.”

“Shutting up.” You bit your tongue. Miracles were ever so rare, what idiot would you be to push your luck?

You kept silent a while, watching him as his eyelashes fluttered shakily. He was still stiff, his muscles tensed. The dark shadows had definitely lessened, you noticed, ever since you'd been pestering after him to get enough sleep all week. It's working, he had definitely been less tired. But it's not enough. This insomniac bastard can hardly get 4 hours of sleep on average and that did not sit right with you.

He was tired. You knew. You could tell

“Levi.”

He doesn't speak, only hums softly in response.

“Sleep. Don't just lie down.”

“Can't.” He shook his head slightly. “Can't sleep so late.”

“It's seven.”

There's a hint of a smile on his face. “I think it's already been settled that we have very different views on what's early and what's late.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop criticizing my sense of time and go to sleep and let me sleep as well.”

“Can't.” He told you simply, his voice soft. “Doesn’t mean you can't. Go to sleep, I'll be here.”

Shaking your head, you push yourself up slightly. Your fingers trailed up to his neck and he freezes slightly. You traced the feeling of his undercut under your fingers, scratching down with your nails. “Let me help you then.”

His eyes open to find yours questioningly. You smiled, shifting closer and traveling your hands higher until they were running between the dark strands of his hair. You pull at them, just the way you knew he liked and it works, his shoulders almost instantly relaxes visibly and a soft sigh escapes him, his eyes fluttering shut. You shift up, higher until you can press his head to his chest and that's all it takes. It's like he melts into you.

“Shit.” He groaned softly.

“Feels good?”

He doesn't say anything, but his breathing relaxes, starting to get even.

“Go to sleep, Lev.”

He doesn't protest anymore, closing his eyes.

You play with his hair a little more, another hand softly massaging one of his shoulders. A couple seconds passed by in silence and through, you could only listen to his heavy breathing.It's okay if he didn't sleep fully. You just wanted him to relax. Absentmindedly, you traced one of the hair strands that fell on over his forehead. His bangs came almost upto his eyes now.

“Huh,” You sighed softly. “Levi. Your hair got longer—oh…. asleep?”

Oh shit, he actually fell asleep.

And no amount of titans you've ever killed could ever give you the satisfaction and sense of accomplishment you felt at that second.

You stared at his peaceful face happily for a few seconds. Then, still hands on his hair, you felt yourself dozing back to sleep. It's like watching him relaxing has made you feel relaxed as well. And no sooner, you were drowning in his arms, drifting to a far away world.

.

Levi wakes up after 3 hours.

At first, he's confused. He's sitting up in bed wondering how it'd become this late. How could it be that it was past 10 and he was still in bed?

But then he looks at you, so deep in sleep like you wouldn't even feel if the world just ended and he remembers.

Right. Of course it was you.

Did you know how easy it was for him to sleep when you were around?

He stares at you softly, all curled up under the sheets. He shifts a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You groaned quietly at the touch, but that was about it. You did not look like you were going to wake up anytime soon.

He watches you, considering.

Dignity. He prayed. Dignity has been long gone since the day you came into his life. He really, really should be getting up now.

Should he?

Screw dignity. He caved.

Might as well go for another hour.

[vanillarosekiss]

simon riley, your best friend’s dad…

♡ p!link ♡

warnings: smut, bsfdad!simon x reader, size kink if you read into it, age gaps, not considered very ethical to fuck your bsf's dad but... :b

word count: 0.8k

He was so hot. Every time you came round your best friend's house, because her dad was so accompanying, you could never take your eyes off him. You'd often go home and touch yourself to the little interactions you'd had with him the previous day, which were all innocent of course. He was just so much bigger than you, so strong, and he was extremely good looking for a guy his age. A small part of you was self conscious of the fact it was deemed morally wrong to think of him that way, you felt like it was a crime against your best friend. Although.. it wasn't like anything was going to actually happen, right?

Another Saturday night rolled around and you arrived at their house, not bothering to knock before you went inside because they were used to you coming over so much; you even knew where the spare key was.

It got quite late fast, and after a long girly talk of boys, updating each other on love lives and doing face masks whilst eating a takeaway, you got changed into your pyjamas. You both slept in her room, usually watching shitty, low-budget romcoms before drifting off into a drowsy sleep, but tonight you were restless. You decided to wait until she was asleep, and got out of bed, careful not to make too much noise.

Going downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water, you made the awful mistake of accidentally bumping into her dad. Simon. The sheer size of him made it almost impossible for you to not lose your balance, and he grabbed your shoulders so that you wouldn't fall over.

"Are you ok? Sorry, I didn't see you" he said calmly, checking you were alright.

You blushed a little, and nodded without saying anything. If it wasn't obvious that you had a thing for him before, it definitely was now. He was bound to notice soon anyways, your night clothes becoming slightly more revealing each week.

Simon glanced down, noticing how much of your cleavage was on display, for him. He kept his hands on your shoulders, one hand toying with the light pink elastic strap of your pyjama top.

"You don't have anything else to wear?" he asked, in what you thought was a judgemental tone.

"I- No I do, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. like.." you rambled and trailed off, flushed with embarrassment.

"M'not complaining, love, don't worry your pretty head" he said reassuringly, before moving behind you and gently leading you into his room to the ensuite bathroom, lower hand grazing your back lightly.

"What are you-" you began, turning but only to be met with a view of his chest.

"You want this, yeah? I'm not stupid, I can tell when a pretty thing like you wants something."

You hesitated, before giving a small, unsure nod.

"Gonna need more than that, sweeth'art."

"Yes. Please."

"Good girl." he praised, before locking the door and stripping you down completely naked for him, making you turn and admiring your body.

"So pretty. Wanted this for so long, haven't you?"

You were still shy, and stood not really knowing what to do with your hands.. hell, with your entire body.

He took you carefully and got you down on your knees, before pulling his already leaking cock from his boxers. It was big, too big. It would never fit. He could immediately see the panic in your eyes, and tried to calm you down.

"S'alright, baby. I'll go gentle on you, I promise. You tell me if it hurts too much, or you get uncomfortable, okay?"

You nod, swallowing a little anxiously.

The next thing you know, you were swallowing his cock, as he guided your head down carefully. His hands caressed your hair, in an almost soothing way, so as to make you feel safe with him. You were definitely not as anxious anymore. Just took a little praise and soft guidance from Simon.

He pulled you back before he came, making you sit on his thighs before plunging into your already soaking core, stretching you out in ways you never imagined you could be. It was hard to take at first, but it quickly became pleasurable, him using you like a little toy. Thrusting you up and down on his large cock, hands grabbing at your waist and squeezing you as he hit your g-spot over and over again.

"God you feel amazing." he groaned, thrusting fastening at the sound of your preciously soft moans. He adored how little and delicate you were, so pliable in his hands.

It was safe to say that the next day, his looks and subtle lingering touches were no longer innocent. You were his pretty little secret, and unless you no longer wanted him, it would stay that way.

Tag list 𖠋: @punkkture @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @caro-line19  @decaffeinateddelusionbread @lovidovii @xoxoxoaspen @i-ship-stony-and-superfamily @simonrileysdarling @siphon07 @figthoughts @mlthree

[gf2bellamy]

early seasons spence has me in a chokehold so i kinda have a request for you idk if it makes sense but yeah anyway (please dont tell me its obvious im a yapper ill cry)

ANYWHO

secret relationship au im imagining, earlyseasons!spencer x genderneutral/fem!bau!user (doesnt bother me but im trying to be considerate, im a girl but it really doesnt matter)

basically im thinking like the reader gets kidnapped on a case and spence is FREAKING OUT like lack of sleep, pacing constantly and being really set on finding the unsub freaking out.. and when he finally finds the reader in their state hes like that mix of relieved and absolutely appalled at the readers condition (im imagining all beaten and bloody and stuff idk how graphic you wanna make it). hes all ditsy when hes untying their binds and carrying them out of the place since hes so scared for them. the rest of the thing is kinda hotch calmly telling the reader how freaked out spence was and then im thinking like them comforting spencer afterwards and saying all the ‘its not your fault’ and ‘im okay now’ and its so fluffy it rots all our teeth (but i guess it would also be angst) IDK IF IT MAKES ANY SENSE IMSORRY

anyway remember to drink water and take care of yourself

call me some random emoji cause ill probably be here a bunch

- 🐚

captured — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader having bruises, reader being tied up, mention of having a terrible headache, a/n: thank you so so much for your request and your request makes perfect sense don't worry !! i loved the idea and i'm looking forward to your next requests 🐚 <3<3<3 i hope i did your request justice !!!

Spencer didn’t know where you were. No one did. That thought pounded through his skull, looping endlessly as he nursed what had to be his fifth coffee of the day. He hadn’t slept—not even a minute—and the caffeine barely registered.

The coffee tasted like ash, bitter and lifeless. Not that it mattered. All it was doing was keeping him on his feet long enough to find you.

He should have seen this coming. He should have known the unsub would target you. You fit the profile perfectly—he had pored over the details a hundred times, retracing every step the team had made.

And yet, when it mattered most, Spencer had let his guard down.

And now you were gone. Missing. Maybe worse.

The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through him. His guilt was unbearable.

But it wasn’t just guilt, wasn’t just worry for a teammate.

It was something deeper, something he wasn’t allowed to show, not in a room full of profilers.

Because this wasn’t just about an agent being taken.

This was about you.

The person he had been secretly slipping away with after hours and the person whose hand he had held in the darkness when no one was looking.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

He should have stopped you. You should have never been the one to go on that stakeout alone, even if it was routine. Even if you’d assured him you’d be fine. The memory of your casual smile as you walked out the door stabbed at him like a knife.

“It’s just for a few hours, Spence,” you’d said with that soft lilt in your voice, the one you used when you were trying to put him at ease. The one that undid him every time.

He’d smiled back, pretending to believe you, but his stomach had tightened even then. He should have insisted on going with you.

And now—God, now—he didn’t know if he would ever hear that voice again.

It was a small mistake—one that was tearing him apart.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to let go, staring blankly at the case file in front of him. It was no use. He’d already memorized every detail, every piece of evidence. Nothing had led them to you yet.

But it would. It had to.

Spencer rubbed his eyes, exhaustion clawing at him. His entire body screamed for rest, but the idea of closing his eyes—even for a moment—felt impossible. His mind was too full of you.

The burning in his eyes was unbearable, but the ache in his chest was worse.

Everyone on the team was worried about you—how could they not be? But they were also worried about him. And they had every reason to be.

They thought his reaction was because the two of you were close, because he was the type to carry the weight of every case like a personal failure. But it was more than that.

He wasn’t just losing an agent. He was losing you.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the desk once more.

He stared at the evidence board in front of him, the faces of the victims haunting him as he tried to force his brain into profiling mode. But every time he looked at their photos, all he could see was you.

Your smile. Your eyes. The way you looked at him.

His chest tightened painfully, and he dug his fingers into the desk again.He needed to focus.

“Reid.”Hotch’s voice broke through his frantic thoughts.

Spencer’s head snapped toward the doorway where Hotch stood, his expression unreadable as always. “We’ve got a lead,” he said, stepping inside.“Where?” Spencer asked.

“An abandoned warehouse on 14th and Grant,” Hotch replied evenly, though the concern in his eyes was clear.

Spencer turned back to the board, his mind racing as he analyzed the new information. Within seconds, he made the connection. The location fit the unsub’s pattern, his profile—it was possible.

It was enough.

Spencer shot to his feet without another word, practically bolting out the door. The rest of the team exchanged quick glances before following him.

He didn’t care if he looked reckless. He didn’t care if they saw how desperate he was. He had wasted enough time already.

Derek barely had time to react before Spencer climbed into the passenger seat, his breathing uneven.

Derek glanced at him, concern flickering across his face as he started the engine. “Reid—”

“Just drive,” Spencer snapped.

Derek didn’t argue. He knew better.

The SUV tore through the streets, Derek driving faster than protocol allowed. But he didn’t care. He knew Spencer would bite his head off if he slowed down, and frankly, he couldn’t blame him.

Spencer’s knee bounced restlessly as his eyes darted to the GPS screen, counting down the seconds until they arrived.

The second the car came to a stop in front of the warehouse, Spencer threw open the door and bolted.

“Reid, wait!” Derek’s voice rang out behind him, but it was no use.

Spencer didn’t slow down. He couldn’t.

His pulse roared in his ears as he burst into the building, gun raised, breath ragged. His rational mind screamed at him to slow down, to wait for backup, to clear the scene carefully—standard protocol.

But protocol didn’t matter right now.

The dim lighting inside cast long, eerie shadows along the walls. The air was thick with dust and something metallic—rust, maybe blood. His stomach turned at the thought.

His grip on his gun tightened as he moved swiftly, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Room after room, door after door—empty.

Panic coiled in his chest, squeezing tighter with each dead end. His mind flashed with worst-case scenarios.

He shoved them down. He couldn’t think like that.

Then, he reached the last door.

Spencer barely took a breath before forcing it open, gun at the ready.

And then—

His stomach dropped.

There you were.

His voice cracked as he called out your name, his heart pounding in his chest. He rushed toward you, his gun immediately lowering as he took in your state.

His stomach twisted at the sight of you—unconscious, slumped forward, your wrists tightly bound to the arms of the chair. The dim lighting highlighted the bruises and cuts on your face, the sight of them sending a jolt of raw panic through him. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, Spencer feared the worst.

He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they moved to your neck. His fingers pressed gently against your pulse point, but for what felt like an eternity, there was nothing.

His mind raced. Was this it? Was this how it ended?

Then—

There it was.

A faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips.

Relief crashed over him like a tidal wave, and for the first time in what felt like hours, Spencer’s lungs finally let him take a full breath. He leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as he whispered shakily, “Thank God. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

His hands moved to your face, cupping it gently as he tilted your head up to get a better look at you.

When your face came into full view, his breath hitched.

Bruises marred your cheekbone and temple, a thin line of dried blood trailing down from your hairline. Spencer’s heart clenched so tightly he thought it might break. He bit his lip, trying to keep it together, trying to maintain some semblance of control

One single tear slipped down his cheek as he softly brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch as gentle as if he were handling glass.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m here.”

“Morgan!” Spencer’s voice cracked, raw with emotion, as he yelled.

Seconds later, Derek burst into the room, gun in hand, his face hard and alert. “Reid, I just cleared the—” But the moment his eyes landed on you, his words died in his throat.

Derek cursed under his breath, his gaze shifting between you and Spencer, before asking about your condition, his concern palpable as he rushed to Spencer’s side, holstering his gun.

“Alive,” Spencer barely managed to choke out the word, his voice trembling. “Pulse is steady, but we need to get out of here.”

Morgan nodded, his jaw tightening as he quickly pulled out his knife to cut through the ropes binding your wrists.

Spencer’s hands were already on you, one cradling the back of your head, the other resting gently on your arm. His thumb stroked soothing circles on your skin.

The motion was familiar, a small gesture he used to comfort you when you were restless after nightmares, when he needed to remind you—remind himself—that you were safe.

He hoped it would work now, that somehow, it would bring you back to him.

Morgan worked quickly, slicing through the restraints. As soon as your wrists were free, Spencer carefully pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

His breath hitched as he whispered your name, lips near your ear. “It’s me. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Your body felt so limp against him. He could barely feel his own limbs—his exhaustion was a distant thing compared to the need to keep you safe.

Derek’s voice broke through his daze, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Let’s move.”

Spencer nodded. As he moved, one arm tightening protectively around you.

As they made their way outside, the sunlight hit Spencer’s face, but he barely noticed.

All he could focus on was you—the bruises and cuts that were on your skin, the way your body felt too light in his arms. His heart clenched at the thought of how much pain you must have endured, how much suffering had been thrust upon you, all because of the job.

He had promised you that he would protect you, that he would keep you safe. And now, he felt like he had failed you.

Two hours later, after one heated argument with the paramedics, Spencer had insisted on riding in the ambulance with you. He had refused to let you be alone, not for a second.

Now, you were lying in a sterile hospital bed, an IV drip hooked up to you, the soft beeping of machines a constant reminder that you were still here—still alive.

Spencer, on the other hand, was slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair. His body contorted in a way that he knew he would regret later, but he didn’t care. His legs were stretched out, but his back was hunched, his neck bent at an awkward angle.

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking as the bright overhead lights made everything blur. The room was unfamiliar—hospital white with the sharp scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

The pain hit you almost immediately—sharp and unwelcome—making its way through your head and down your body. You winced, biting your lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape.

The pain was intense, but it was nothing compared to the weight of everything that had happened.

The fear, the physical pain, the overwhelming sense of helplessness, it all crashed down on you like a tidal wave. But beneath it all, something else made itself known. The hum of machines, the soft beeping of your pulse, the sterile scent of the hospital room.

You slowly became aware that you were no longer in that dark, cold room, bound and at the mercy of the unsub. You were safe now.

And with that realization came relief.

You weren’t dead. You hadn’t been forgotten or abandoned. The unsub hadn’t fulfilled his plan.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you could stop them, they began to fall. You lifted your hand to your face, wiping them away quickly, but more kept coming. You couldn’t stop them.

Your eyes scanned the room, and that’s when you saw him.

Spencer.

He was there, slumped in the chair beside your bed. His exhaustion was unmistakable. His hair was messier than usual, not gelled back.

You sat there quietly observing the boy you had come to love so much.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and you turned your head to see Hotch step in. His usual stern expression softened when his eyes met yours, and for the briefest of moments, you could see the relief in his gaze.

“Hi, Hotch,” you mumbled weakly, offering a small, tired smile.

Hotch stepped further into the room, taking in your condition. "How are you doing?" His voice was softer than usual, an underlying concern lacing his words as he slowly closed the door behind him.

"My head is killing me," you replied, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. Your hand instinctively went to your temple, massaging it gently, but it did little to alleviate the pain.

Hotch nodded understandingly. He glanced at Spencer briefly, noting the way he hadn’t moved a muscle.

Hotch’s eyes lingered on Spencer for a moment longer than necessary, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more than he was letting on.

It wouldn’t surprise you; Hotch was perceptive in ways no one else was, and your relationship with Spencer hadn’t exactly been subtle all the time.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. "We got him," Hotch said. "The unsub... he's in custody."

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. The news felt like a balm to your soul.

You’d been terrified that the danger hadn’t truly passed, that the man who had done this to you would still be out there, free to hurt others. But now, you could finally breathe.

He was behind bars, where he belonged.

"Thank you," you whispered, your body finally relaxing a little, your tension ebbing away with the knowledge that the man behind your nightmare was locked away.

Hotch’s gaze softened, though his face remained stoic as always. “He was worried sick,” Hotch said, nodding toward Spencer. “He didn’t sleep. He was looking for you the entire time.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, your breath catching as you shifted your gaze from Hotch back to Spencer.

You could see the toll the search had taken on him. You fought the urge to reach for him, to run your fingers through his hair and wake him up just so you could see his face, to remind yourself that he was real, that he was here.

The face that had been your lifeline during the long days of captivity. It was that face, the one you’d thought of in the darkest moments, that had kept you sane.

Hotch seemed to notice the way your gaze lingered on Spencer, and for a moment, his usually unreadable face softened.

He didn’t say anything, but you could tell that he knew.

Spencer stirred slightly in his sleep, making a soft sound as he shifted. His body tensed before relaxing, the quiet movements of someone who was waking from exhaustion.

Hotch glanced down at Spencer, then back at you.He gave your arm a gentle squeeze—one that was light enough to not cause you any pain—and you looked at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Hotch said quietly. He gave you a small nod before stepping back.“Thanks, Hotch,” you mumbled, your voice still weak, but filled with genuine gratitude.

The door clicked softly behind him.As if on cue, Spencer slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times as the light seemed to hurt him.

His eyes immediately locked onto yours, and in that instant, you saw everything—the relief, the exhaustion, the quiet joy of seeing you alive.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.

His eyes searched your face, his expression tightening as he took in every little detail.

Spencer never liked to admit his feelings. He never said the words, but you felt them in the way his eyes lingered on you, in the way he never once left your side.

You knew what was hidden beneath the surface, even if the world didn’t.

"Hi," you mumbled back, trying to offer him a small, weak smile. The effort was exhausting, but you didn’t want him to see just how badly you were hurting.

As you shifted to sit up a bit, the sharp pain in your head and limbs made itself known, and you couldn’t stop the soft groan that slipped from your lips.

Without a second thought, Spencer stood up from his seat, stepping closer to your bed, but he didn’t reach for you immediately.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking slightly. His eyes scanned over you—lingering on the bruises and cuts that were on your skin.

His breath caught in his throat as his gaze flickered from the fresh marks on your body to your face, and for a split second, it seemed like he couldn’t look at you without some part of him breaking.

"I’ll be fine," you said, your voice strained as you did your best to sound convincing, but the words didn’t do much to reassure him.

You could see it in the way he flinched, his hand immediately running through his hair—trying to distract himself from how visibly shaken he was by the sight of you in pain.

Spencer Reid, who always had an answer for everything, who always had control, was falling apart.

He leaned forward slightly, as if wanting to touch you but unsure if he should.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with reassurance. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

But Spencer’s gaze remained on you, his body tense, and his hands flexed, still not knowing where to go. His lips parted again, as though to say something, but it came out only as a soft breath.

His fingers hovered near your arm but didn’t touch.

It was like he was afraid of hurting you more. You could see the guilt gnawing at him. It was written all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice barely audible. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—" His words faltered, and he cut himself off.

"Spence," you said slowly, your voice soft but insistent. You reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers curling around his gently.

His grip tightened around your hand, but it felt shaky. The words suddenly spilled out.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve known. I should’ve known you could be in danger and I—” His voice cracked, and the rest of the sentence died in his throat. His breath hitched, and it was clear he was trying to hold back tears.

But they came anyway, pooling in his eyes, spilling over and leaving tracks down his pale face.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him—this was the man who had stayed by your side, refused to leave even when his mind told him he couldn’t handle it anymore.

The man who, despite everything, was still so gentle with you, so protective, and yet, here he was, blaming himself for things beyond his control.

"Spencer, stop," you said softly, your voice full of concern for him “Please, stop.”

His eyes remained downcast, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I should have," he murmured under his breath, barely loud enough for you to catch.

His voice trembled, breaking on the words. "I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve made sure you were safe. You're hurt... you're in the hospital because of me."

Your heart broke all over again. He always did this to himself, carried the weight of everyone else’s pain as if it were his own.

"No, no," you whispered urgently, doing your best to push through the lingering pain in your head as you squeezed his hand tighter.

The effort sent a sharp pulse through your skull, but you forced yourself to focus, to hold on to him. "Spence, it wasn’t your fault. Don't ever think that," you said firmly, your voice filled with all the care and strength you had left.

"Listen to me," you continued, the words coming from the depths of your soul. "You did everything you could. You were there. You found me. You're the reason I'm alive, Spencer. If anyone should be sorry, it’s the man who did this to me, not you." Your words were soft.

Spencer’s breath hitched again, his face contorting. He looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him together.

You took a slow, steady breath, forcing yourself to speak through the exhaustion. "You’re not the reason I’m here, Spence," you said, your voice full of the truth you wished he could feel deep inside himself. "You’re the reason I’m going to be okay. You always are."

Your words seemed to reach him, just enough to keep him from falling apart completely.

"Promise me something," you said, your voice soft but unwavering. "Promise me you’ll stop blaming yourself. It’s not on you. It never was."

He nodded slowly, his hand tightening around yours in return.

“I promise,” he whispered, though it felt like he was still trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"Come here," you said softly.

Without a second thought, Spencer leaned forward, his body folding into yours as he gently buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms sliding around you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

His breath hitched as he adjusted, trying his best not to press too hard, too recklessly, worried about hurting you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When he finally pulled back, there was a small smile on his face that wasn’t there before.

You smiled gently, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his skin.

"I’m okay," you whispered, your voice tender, just for him. "I’m really okay, Spence."

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for just a second longer than usual, before pulling back with a contented sigh. "I’m so glad you’re here" he murmured.

You squeezed his hand tightly, smiling at him.

He pulled the chair closer to your bed, never letting go of your hand, settling into it with a deep breath. He was still physically exhausted, emotionally drained, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was that you were here.

[taeyongdoyoung]

wicked game

summary: you try to seduce the unpopular virgin to win a bet with your stepbrother. your stepbrother wants to sleep with you and you want his car. but the virgin guy has more to offer... pairing: loser virgin!haechan x popular girl!reader genre: angst, romance, smut, high school setting warnings: the bet trope my beloved, manipulative stepbrother!jeno, ex-boyfriend!mark, innapropriate groping in school, one non-consensual cheek kiss, past man-eater y/n, lowkey corruption kink, lots of kissing, handjob, blowjob, eating out, attachment issues, protected sex (unbelievable), classmates to lovers, non-consensual photo-taking, breakfast in bed, break-up, no pain no gain author's note: this is loosely based on the movie Cruel Intentions minus the dying part; disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't actually think Jeno is an A-hole, i just needed such a character for the sake of the plot word count: 3.7k

You're bored. Being the most popular, prettiest and richest girl in high school is not enough to satisfy your greed. Boys are literally throwing themselves at you in every corner. It's almost too easy. You want a challenge. Something to make the last year of school a memorable one. Something fun.

So, when your stepbrother Jeno presents you with an idea, you accept it eagerly.

"If you're so bored, why don't I propose a bet?"

"What kind of a bet?" you eye him curiously.

"See that guy Haechan? I heard he's a virgin and saving himself for his one ~true love~. How fucking pathetic is that?"

"So? What is it to me?" you scoff, though you already have a feeling where this is going.

"If you manage to seduce that fucking loser, I'll give you my Jaguar."

"Oh, that's very tempting," you smirk. "And if I don't?"

"Then, you'll sleep with me," Jeno whispers in your ear.

"Ew, as if. You're my brother," you make a gagging motion.

"Stepbrother," Jeno points out.

"Still, it's gross," you shake your head.

"Are you scared you'll lose?" Jeno sticks his tongue out.

"I haven't agreed to the bet yet," you answer.

But Jeno knows you too well. You are already thinking of ways to ruin that poor boy Haechan.

You approach him that same day, sitting on the empty seat on his desk. Asking him to do homework together...

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" Haechan spits out.

Ouch. Little one is too feisty for a regular loser. This might be more interesting than you initially thought.

"Why not? If you hang out with me, people will think you're cool," you try to attack where you believe it'll sting.

"So? Popularity isn't everything, you know?" Haechan rolls his eyes. "Besides, people who peak in high school spend the rest of their lives leading a mediocre, non-satisfying existence."

Damn. Pretty harsh. You didn't anticipate this would be so difficult. Oh well, all the more motivation to try harder.

"You admit it, then? That I'm at my peak right now," you smile flirtatiously, running a finger across his face.

"It doesn't matter to me where you think you are," Haechan glares at you, grabbing your finger and removing it from his skin. "As long as you get out of my face."

Gee, so aggressive.

"Did I ever do something to you?"

"No, but you messed with my best friend Mark's head. Leading him to believe you cared for him and then ditching him is so not cool. Now, piss off," Haechan grunts angrily.

You don't even remember half of the names of the guys you slept with. But you do remember Mark. He was really sweet. And if you could feel something at all, it would have been guilt. But back when you were with Mark, your mother had just announced she's getting re-married to Jeno's father. So, you were angry at everyone and everything. And you took it all out on Mark.

"Well, I can't change the past, so don't blame me without knowing the circumstances."

"It doesn't matter anyway. Mark found a girl much better than you who's treating him right."

"What about you? Got someone special taking care of you?" you touch him again, this time more forward and shameless, trying to elicit a reaction out of him. Sneaking your hand underneath the desk and caressing him fondly.

"It's n-none of your b-business," Haechan stammers but he doesn't remove your hand this time. Oh, he's so touch-starved this is going to be a lot of fun. For you.

"I could take care of you, you know? Turn all your wildest dreams into reality."

"I know what you are," Haechan shakes his head.

"A vampire!" you gasp in mock surprise.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Haechan fakes a smile. "You're a man-eater. You fuck around with guys and then you leave them to rot. I want nothing to do with you."

"Really? Then, why haven't you removed my hand yet?" you remind him, though perhaps you shouldn't have.

Haechan grabs your wrist, pushing you away firmly.

"You're wrong, you know," you try to convince him of your sincerity. "I'm just as eager to find someone who loves me. Someone worth staying for."

"And what, you expect me to believe that someone is me?" Haechan stares at you sceptically.

"Let's find out, shall we?" you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he can escape.

And then, you let him be. Enough torture for day one.

You start interacting with Haechan every day. During the first month, you are consumed with thoughts of Jeno's bet. The abominable idea of sleeping with your stepbrother is enough to keep you going. Of course, you know he's not gonna force you into it. But you need the motivation to not lose the bet anyway. The gorgeous car is also pretty seductive.

During the second month, you are consumed with thoughts of Haechan. You begin to realize how lovely, clever and funny he is. And the fact he's even letting you spend time with him is enough to make you happy. You're no longer bored. Because everyday you have something fun to look forward to. You spend time at the school library, doing homework together, occasionally sending memes to each other. You go on little walks and picnics at the park. You even go to the cinema a couple of times, bonding over your shared love for horror movies.

During the third month, the miracle happens. Haechan decides he trusts you enough to invite you over to his place one evening. He even makes the point of notifying you that his parents aren't home. What does he mean by that? Is this an opportunity for you to finally seduce him?

Naturally, you don't get much homework done, before Haechan starts kissing you out of nowhere. You kiss him back eagerly.

"W-what are you doing?" you ask as you notice Haechan has started unbuttoning his jeans.

"I t-thought you wanted this. S-sorry," Haechan looks down, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He's in a hurry to zip himself again. God, you feel so cruel.

"I d-do," you admit, no longer giving a shit about that stupid bet. "But I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for."

"So, you've heard about what I said at that fucking party?"

"What did you say?" you ask, even though you have an idea of what it involves.

"That I'm saving it for someone special," It being his virginity, you suppose. "Someone who loves me. To be honest, I was really drunk that night. I don't care all that much anymore."

"It's okay to have your principles, Haechan," you try to reassure him and stroke his soft hair gently. "I think it's pretty admirable, actually."

Haechan shakes his head, visibly disagreeing.

"Well, it's fine. I'm ready for this, I promise. Just...don't leave right after, okay?" he pouts.

"Oh, Haechan, of course I won't leave," you reply and surprise yourself in that you really mean it.

Kissing him deeper, you finish what he started and take off his jeans. You touch his cock softly, as if it's the most precious thing in the world. You've done this hundreds of time with guys you didn't give a fuck about and felt nothing, the actions methodical and quick. But this, right now, is more special than your limited vocabulary could ever describe. You realize you genuinely don't want to hurt him. You bow down and envelop your lips around his length. He gets hard easily, considering it's his first time. You suck on him a couple of times and he cums even faster than you anticipated. But for some reason, it's never tasted sweeter.

"S-sorry," Haechan mumbles shyly.

"It's okay, my sweet boy," you coo in his ear, after you're done swallowing his cum. You run your hands through his hair once again. God, it's so silky. You could never get enough of him.

"W-what do I d-do now?" he asks cutely.

"Whatever you want, mon ange," you kiss him once more.

"C-can I eat you out?" Haechan inquires.

Oh, so virgin boy is not so clueless, after all.

"Sure, I guess," you shrug. Not really a huge fan of that, the few times guys have offered, they quickly grow tired of it and could never make you cum as hard as you could by yourself. But it's okay. If Haechan wants to...

"Just...guide me, okay?" he pleads adorably and soon, you find out he needs no guidance at all.

What he lacks in experience, he definitely makes up for with enthusiasm. He seems so eager to please you, licking and biting and kissing your pussy that you cum faster than you have in...well, ever, actually. You grip his hair for support, panting and chanting his name like a prayer.

"Was that alright?" Haechan feigns a self-conscious smile, though judging by your reaction, his smile is already turning into a proud smirk. That bastard.

"Are you kidding? It was...out of this world," you say honestly. Funny thing about honesty is how something that used to be so difficult for you comes so easily to you when you're with Haechan.

"Glad to hear," he grins widely. You want to kiss him every second till the rest of your life. The thought terrifies you.

"I s-should go," you try to get up. You can't do this. You can't be the one to take his virginity. Considering how this all started. It'd be too cruel. He should be with someone special, someone loves him more than anything, someone who'd never hurt him.

"W-what, w-why?" Haechan asks, grabbing your wrist in a panic, not wanting to let go. "I thought you liked me."

"I do like you. I like you so much. That's the problem."

"It doesn't have to be," Haechan disagrees, pushing you back on the bed. "Please, let me."

And here you thought you'd be the one begging him to have sex with you.

"O-okay," you can no longer find it in yourself to deny him. To deny your growing feelings...

Haechan digs through his jeans and pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking and he's having a hard time putting it on so you help him and pull him out of his misery. You give him a soft, reassuring smile, paired with a quick squeeze of his hand. He smiles back just as fondly.

And then he slides inside you so easily. As if he belongs there. As if he's meant to be yours. You kiss him desperately to distract yourself from the truth. To hide the tears that are threatening to come out.

"You f-feel so g-good," Haechan grunts in your ear.

"So do you, baby," you admit sincerely.

This time around, he lasts longer, fucking you until your release comes for the second time. He cums right after, with his hands touching your cheeks, his lips on your neck and his heart on his sleeve.

"Wanna stay inside you forever," he whispers once it's over.

"That wouldn't be very practical," you chuckle. Though you would like nothing more.

But he gets up to get rid of the condom and then comes back, hugging you tightly.

"Can you be my girlfriend?" Haechan blurts out. "I know you probably don't like clingy guys but...considering you've been pursuing me for the past three months, I thought..."

"I'll be your girlfriend," you agree rightaway, not giving a shit about the consequences. "Of course, I will."

He laughs, the sound so precious and filled with joy it breaks your heart.

Maybe he never has to know how it all began. Maybe you could hide it from him forever. Maybe...you could allow yourself to be happy. Just this once.

Soon, Haechan falls asleep, feeling comfortable around you. You know what you have to do, but you feel like shit anyway. You secretly take a picture of his half-naked figure sleeping soundly. You sigh quietly and send the photo to your stepbrother Jeno.

Then, you put your phone down, trying to forget about the whole ordeal. You cuddle up next to Haechan and enjoy his warmth until you fall asleep.

The next morning, you wake up before Haechan and quickly run out to make him some breakfast. You have no idea when his parents will be home but you don't want this to be their first impression of you. So, you leave the breakfast on Haechan's nightstand with a little note.

See you at school, boyfriend! XOXO, Y/N.

Rushing back home, you are satisfied when Jeno gives you the car keys to his Jaguar without protesting. Your stepbrother may be kinda freaky, but at least he's a man of his word. What gives you the creeps is the slight smirk on his face as he hands you the keys. As if he didn't lose the bet. As if he's the winner.

You try not to think about it too much, as you get dressed for school, excited to see Haechan again. You still can't believe he asked you to be his girlfriend. That pretty, sweet boy makes you so unbelievably happy. You look forward to spending more moments in his sunny company.

Haechan wakes up to the smell of warm pancakes, covered with chocolate and strawberries and accompanied by coffee. It immediately brings a smile on his face, which only becomes wider as he sees the little note you left him. He giddily enjoys the breakfast and then rushes to get dressed for school. You're his girlfriend! He's never had a girlfriend and he's so pleased you're being so nice to him. Maybe you really are better than people say and all that past drama was just everyone being jealous of your beauty and popularity...This is going to be the best day of his life.

But when he gets to school, everything changes. He knows that he's considered one of the "losers" in the hierarchy but usually people just ignore him and don't pay attention to him. He's fine with that, really! But today, whenever he walks by, people are snickering and whispering something. It feels so weird and makes him uncomfortable. He can't quite hear what they're saying and this kind of unexpected treatment is killing him.

He goes to his friend Mark to ask him what's up.

"Bro...I don't know how to tell you this," Mark looks away, as if the thing is so bad he can't even say it.

Haechan impatiently begs him to just enlighten him as to why everyone is giving him weird looks all day.

Mark sighs and shows him a secreenshot. There, he sees a photo of himself, half-naked and sleeping soundly. Fuck, that's from last night. And what the messages between you and your stepbrother Jeno reveal...shocks Haechan out of his senses. No...no way it was just a bet. No way you spent three months courting him for a fucking car?! This can't be true. It's gotta be Photoshopped or something.

"Listen, buddy, I warned you that she likes messing with guys and then leaving them."

"No, she...she really seemed to care about me," Haechan is still in denial as his vision becomes blurred with tears.

He runs away, unable to believe what is happening. He needs to speak to you. Hear it from your own lips. To be sure this is real and not just a sick joke.

When he finally finds you, he grabs your wrist as he did just yesterday. But this time, he's not doing to get you to stay. But because he's furious.

"Is it true? Did you really make a bet with Jeno on whether you can fuck me? Did you seriously do all of that over a car?!"

Your facial expressions are enough of an answer. Guilt. Something you never thought you were capable of.

"H-haechan, I swear I can explain," you beg him to hear you out.

"Explain? How can you explain that?" Haechan shakes his head, letting go of your hand. You try to touch him again but he shoves you off furiously.

"It was just a bet at the very beginning. But somewhere along the way, I really started having feelings for you, I promise," you cry passionately. "I don't care about the car, I'll fucking thrash it, I just wanted to get Jeno off my back."

Haechan takes a step back, feeling so betrayed. So...used.

"Whatever you say, I don't think I can believe you anymore. Was it fun, at least? Was this all just a wicked game to you?"

"N-no, it wasn't, I swear it," you are bawling at this point, feeling so pitiful. You don't care if the whole school sees. You only care that Haechan understands. You never meant things to go this far... "I truly care about you, Haechan."

"Yeah?" he scoffs, annoyed. "You only care about yourself."

And with that he leaves. And you lose the one person you truly, genuinely loved.

This is the worst day of your life.

Throughout the rest of the school year you don't dare approach him again. You know you fucked up so badly. You can't even look at that stupid car, let alone consider driving it, so you sell it. Partly because you're angry at Jeno for spreading the screenshot around the whole school. Partly because you no longer want to have anything that will remind you of the biggest mistake you ever made.

With the money you get for the car and some of your own savings, you secretly sponsor Haechan, Mark and their other friends' singing club. You don't even want Haechan to find out. It just...feels right. They could use the extra help.

As the final year of school nears its end, you begin to imagine a future where you never get to see Haechan again. At least, during the past couple of months you had the privilege of looking at him from a distance. But the idea of a world with no Haechan is like a world with no sun.

So, you decide you have to do something as soon as possible. He doesn't have to forgive you or accept you as a girlfriend again. You just want to be in his life in some form.

As you approach the school's radio booth, you feel all the bad things of your past coming back to bite you in the ass. Maybe you deserve to be forever alone. But you need to give it a try. It's your last chance.

"Hi, Mark," you greet your ex-boyfriend.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he sighs, not at all happy to see you.

"Before I get to that, let me just say how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the past. I'm really happy you're finally with someone who appreciates you for how totally awesome you are."

"That's...unexpectedly nice of you to say," Mark eyes you suspiciously. "We were never right for each other anyway. So, what do you want?"

"I want to apologize to Haechan. Through a message broadcasted to the whole school..."

"Gee, and you couldn't do it the old-fashioned way, face to face?" Mark jokes.

"Haechan doesn't wanna see me," you say, fully convinced.

"How would you know without trying?" Mark asks. Has...Haechan told him something? No, you couldn't allow yourself to hope.

"I just know, okay? Please, let me do this. We're graduating in one week, this might be my last chance to talk to Haechan."

Mark nods, agreeing.

"Five minutes," he takes off his headphones and vacates the seat in the radio booth for you.

"Thank you! I mean it," you have never been more grateful for anything.

Mark shrugs as if it's not a big deal and leaves you to it.

"I want to dedicate this so someone I hurt," you speak into the microphone. "Someone who didn't deserve it. Someone very dear to me. Someone I still care deeply about. Haechan, I'm so incredibly sorry, please, give me another chance."

And you start singing.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Your voice is off-key a couple of times and halfway through the song you start crying inconsolably, all the guilt and pain consuming you. The whole school is probably laughing at you but you can no longer bring yourself to care. The only thing that matters is that Haechan hears this.

When you finish the song, you leave the radio booth and are surprised to find Haechan right outside the door, willing to talk to you.

"H-haechan," you stammer and barely resist the urge to give him a hug. You don't want him to feel pressured or anything.

"I'll give you a second chance on one condition. I want Jeno's Jaguar," Haechan jokes.

"Too bad, I already sold it and donated the money to your music club so you guys can get new instruments and stuff."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Haechan exclaims. He doesn't sound angry, though, just...shocked.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it wasn't my place. But it was so unfair the football team and the cheerleading team get so much money but no one cares about the arts."

"Okay, okay, I guess this is better than that ugly car," Haechan chuckles. The car is not ugly. Not even a little bit. But you appreciate Haechan all the more for saying that.

"Can you really forgive me?" you ask desperately, eyes still watery.

"I can forgive you but I'll probably never forget," Haechan admits with a sigh. "If you break my trust again..."

"I won't, I swear!" you vow seriously. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and treating you the way you deserve. You're the best person I've ever met, Haechan. If you'll have me, I want to be around you forever."

"Forever is a long time" Haechan muses out loud. "Considering we're going to college...I don't even know where you're applying."

"I'll go wherever you go," you say hurriedly.

"You can't give up on your dreams just for me, though."

"I'm not. You're my dream, Haechan. You're my sun and I want to be in your orbit. If you'll allow me, that is," you can't take it any longer and hold his hand softly, asking, begging for that second chance not to slip away.

"I'll allow it," Haechan smiles sweetly. "Let's run towards our dreams together, from now on."

"I won't let you down," you promise from the depths of your heart.

And you finally, truly mean it.

The End

[fou4summer]

Are we too young for this?

yoo jaeyi × fem!reader

Synopsis: You’ve always kept your relationship with Jaeyi a secret, hiding it from both your classmates and her disapproving father. Despite the risks, your bond has grown deeper, fueled by the stolen moments you’ve shared. But when Jaeyi’s father finds out, he forces her to distance herself from you or that he will ruin your life.

Warnings: drugs, abuse, family issues, starving, depression

Genre: Angst

Word count: 2k

You were dialing your girlfriends number, wanting to ask her how she slept. She never picked up. Worry washed over you not knowing what to do since you both agreed not to come to her house, so her father doesn't suspect anything. You picked your nails waiting for her call or atleast a message. Nothing. You still had to go to school, so you splashed some water on your face to freshen up before heading out.

At schools gate, Choi Kyung, your friend ran up to you panting. "Y/N why didn't you wait for me, you dumbass. I was almost late for school!" You apologize before Yeri, Choi's bestfriend joins you hitting her on the head, telling her shes stupid for waiting.

"Y/N, whats up with you today?" They asked in sync tilting their heads to look at you properly. "Jaeyi isn't answering my calls, I'm worried..." You mumbled under your breath.

"Oh girl..dont you worry about her. She is the smartest person we know, she is more than fine." Yeri places her hand on your shoulder while fixing her lipgloss. "Yeah, we've known her for years, she wouldn't ignore anyone she loves for no reason, especially not you Y/N. We don't know if she ever loved someone like she loves you." Choi adds, making you feel better for a small amount of time until you reach your classroom and see that Jaeyi is no longer sitting next to you. It was some random girl you both didn't like at all, but why was she doing this?

Choi and Yeri both noticed, their faces confused and irritated. You know that your girlfriend loves to joke around, so you smile walking towards her. She was doing math, but she looked a bit different. But you set that aside.

"Jaeyi! Stop joking around like that. You scared me!" You placed your hand on her shoulder making her look up. Your heart dropped when you saw her face. She looked so serious and cold. "Get away from me and do not touch me." Hearing her say those words made you almost fall on the floor.

"Oh wow Jaeyi very funny, now go back to your seat." Choi added coming towards you two. Jaeyi stood up from her seat towering over you. "You disgust me of how annoying you are. Stop begging for my attention Y/N. Leave. Me. Alone." She pushes past you walking through the door. You felt yourself tearing up, but you had to hold it back, not wanting to make a scene. Choi and Yeri looked at each other gulping. Its like they knew something.

That day school was boring for the first time in a long time. Before, you and Jaeyi would hold hands under the desk, and she would always poke your waist making you giggle loud enough for teacher to hear. The teacher was always ready to kick you out for disturbing class, but Jaeyi would always take all the blame and wink at you, knowing the teacher cant go against her.

As the memories hit, you wanted nothing more than to just yell at her for being like this and not even telling you why. Your math teacher woke you up from all those bad thoughts, telling you to get to the board for sleeping in class. You sighed, too tired to argue before standing up. You looked over to Jaeyi and she was looking at some stupid book. You got reminded of when she would laugh at you for being called out by the teacher and you would always secretly flip her off while having a big smile on your face.

"Y/N did you even hear what I just said?! Why do I even try with you, when you never listen..." He mumbled the last sentence, but you heard it anyway making your way back to your desk.

The last bell rang, your classmates already packing to leave. You wanted to ask Jaeyi what was wrong so you followed her out the school. You grabbed her by her wrist making her turn around.

"Jaeyi...please tell me what is going on...please I think I deserve to know!" You didn't even realize that you were tearing up before she pointed it out.

"Stop embarassing yourself. We are done. There is no explanation. I never loved you and that's it." You knew she was lying, but you didn't know why.

"Stop lying Jaeyi! Just tell me, cause I know that isn't the truth!" You were now fully crying and shouting at her. She remained calm, her face emotionless. You didn't care if anyone was looking at you, you just wanted her to talk.

"Just get away from me. Forever." That was the last thing you heard from her before she walked away.

It was only getting worse from there. You weren't going to school for almost two weeks, but your parents told you that you're gonna fall behind so you must go now. Choi and Yeri were always there for you, when you wanted to cry, just sit in silence, or even yell at them for no reason.

You thought about her all the time, but you told yourself that you had to move on, so you went out with the first guy that talked to you. On the other hand Jaeyi was way worse. She told the teacher she's going on the vacation, but she was actually in her bed the whole time. Not eating and barely drinking any water. She wanted to tell you everything. How her father saw you and her kissing on your favourite spot, the beach.

He was passing by and he went crazy after he saw you two, waiting for his daughter to return only to beat the shit out of her and yell at her for what he saw. He threatened her that he was going to ruin your life if she got close to you again. So she had to say all of that to you and she wished she could just run to your house and run away with you from her stupid dad.

-

Three weeks passed and Jaeyi had to talk to someone about this. She called Choi and Yeri over to 'study'. Her dad was at his hospital, so she could talk about anything. They arrived as soon as she called them, cause they were worried about her for all this time she wasn't at school. When she opened the door their eyes widened.

Jaeyi lost so much weight, her eyes were all puffy and red from crying and she wore the same black shirt for over a week. She was a mess. They understood, even tho Yeri had to say something. "Damn, Yoo Jaeyi, this is the first time I smell better than you." She laughed at her own statement.

After sitting down on her bed, she began talking. They listened to her tired voice, yet filled with anger and pain. "And-and I can't do anything about th-this! I can't lose Y/N! I fucking can't d-do this anymore!" She spoke through sobs, her words choked with emotions.

"Oh Jaeyi...calm down, just let it all out...its okay." Yeri stood up giving her a hug of assurance trying to comfort the poor girl. Choi sighed adjusting her glasses on her nose. "Listen Jaeyi. You better make things right soon...Y/N is already trying to get over you, even tho its not going great, but thats not the point." She came closer to her placing her hands on her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

"You have to talk to her, you need to let her in on the thruth. She still thinks she did something wrong, and its eating her alive." Jaeyi just stared at her, her eyes watery from crying. And those words woke something up in Jaeyi.

"I need to see Y/N...Please call Y/N and tell her to meet me at our spot, please Choi, please Yeri...I'm begging you my phone is dead and I need her right this second." Jaeyi just started talking as she rushed out of her room to get her shoes on. Choi went after her, telling her that she should atleast shower, but she was already out of the house. Yeri on the other hand dialed your number, apologizing for calling at such late hour.

"Y/N...Jaeyi is waiting for you. She wants you to know the trut-" You hung up the call, already getting your hoodie on and running out of the apartment in your slippers. She didn't tell you where Jaeyi was, but you knew. You ran till you arrived at dark yet perfect beach. The sound of the waves soothing your heart, which you thought was going to burst.

Then you saw her. Sitting on the sand, letting the soft grains slip through her fingers. You couldn't see that well, but you noticed how much weight she lost and her hair being all messy, tied in a horrible ponytail. She suddenly turned around, your eyes locking as she started to tear up immediately.

"Y/N..." She could barely stand on her feet due to her barely eating anything all those weeks. The next thing you knew her arms were wrapped around your waist as she snuggled into your neck making you cry aswell. You still thought this wasn't real, so you had to make sure it was. You hugged her back as you both sobbed in each others arms.

-

After telling you everything, she was resting her head on your lap as she hummed your favourite song you two used to sing the whole summer you spent together.

"Remember when we sang that song and you told me I was a horrible singer, then ten minutes later you kissed me for the first time." You reminded her, making her laugh. "And you pushed me away! Before...kissing me back again." She teased before you slapped her arm playfully. Both of you stopped laughing after some time, just staring at the beautiful view. You talked about the ocean, but in her mind the beautiful view was your face that she didn't see for three weeks.

"Y/N...I decided that...I won't let my dad control me anymore. I'll tell him we're together even tho he knows. I know that you matter the most to me, and I can't lose you again. I love you." The last sentence she said replayed in your head. That was the first time Jaeyi said those words. You smiled nodding as she got her head up from your lap, sitting next to you.

"I love you too Jaeyi and I always will. I will never stop even if we are apart, you will never leave my mind." You noticed that she started crying, so you wiped her tears away kissing her on the lips. She smiled into the kiss wrapping her arms around your waist.

-

After some time her dad gave up on whatever he had in his sick head. Jaeyi told him that if he does anything bad to you, that she will never look at him as a father again. That got him back to reality a bit. You two still kept it private but not secret anymore. You held hands and Jaeyi didn't hold back when someone tried to flirt with you. That guy you were with for the time you tried to move on...Well lets just say Jaeyi took care of him. Even tho you went through a living nightmare, Jaeyis love for you never stopped. Not for one second.

[bunny-1111]

I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

im fucked, i know - roy kent

warnings; swearing, smutty references, angst, accusations, fightings

summary; an article is written about some of the soft things roy does for you, and he assumes you're at fault.

a/n; first time writing for this beauty. considering a smutty part 2 if y'all want it :)

"Tell me the truth," Roy said, "Did you go to the reporters to tell them all about our homelife, huh?"

"For the last time, no I didn't."

You refused to react, because you really hadn't gone to the paps. You wanted your privacy as much as Roy did, maybe even more than Roy did, on account of never being famous and never wanting to be. But you loved him, and sacrificing a little piece of your anonymity was worth the love and and joy he brought you.

You were not, however, feeling love and joy right now.

"Well then how the fuck did they know all that, eh?? This article has shit that only you would know."

You were backed into the counter, his arms of either side of you, gripping the ledge of the granite, in a way that would normally excite you, and well still not intimidated or scared, you weren't exactly feeling good about it. Your arms crossed tightly across your chest.

On Saturday morning, an article had been published about 10 things the public didn't know about retired football legend, Roy Kent. Small things, like he liked being the little spoon, how he was hoping and praying for a little girl of his own soon, how he was absolute enchanted by you, willing to cater to your every whim. It made him look so soft, which he was, but the whole fucking world didn't need to know that.

You'd fought all Saturday, then slept as far apart as possible in complete silence, before fighting again all day today, but it was worse, it was like he was trying to force a confession out of you.

"Yeah that's my fucking prerogative, I waited until we dated for five full years before I went and blabbed to a bunch of fucking reporters telling them about how you like to be the little fucking spoon."

"Fuck!!" He shouted, pushing off the counter and turning around, hands rubbing harshly across his own cheeks.

"I'm going to bed," you said, "I think you should sleep in one of the other rooms tonight. The way you're accusing me, and talking to me... I just don't want to sleep next to you."

Roy looked over your face, noting the way your lip quivered. He was torn, his instinct said to grab you and pull you close and apologize and beg to come to bed, but his rage, his frustration, told him that you'd done the one thing he hated most, crossed the boundary most precious to him.

"I'll do you one fucking better," he said, picking his jacket up from the back of a chair, and leaving the house, slamming the door behind him loudly.

When you heard his stupid car start, your shoulders dropped from their defensive position, and the tears rolled quickly down your cheeks. You hadn't done anything. You'd been in all Friday while Roy went to the pub with the team, drinking and celebrating freely for the beginning of the off season.

Usually this was a time of bliss for the two of you, Roy allowed himself two full weeks of time devoted to the relationship before carrying on with off season training. Normally at this point, the two of you would be shamelessly rolling around in bed, and when you were panting, sweaty and recovering, still wrapped up in his arms, you'd discuss where to spend a weeks vacation. Because you, being the ever supporting partner, took the same vacation time.

You phone beeped with a text from Roy.

Lock the fucking door before you go upstairs. Goodnight.

You sighed, wiping the tears off your cheeks before locking the door, and dragging yourself to your room. Stripping off your clothes from the day, you pulled on one of Roy's shirts, and sobbed into your pillow, chasing a nights sleep that would surely evade you.

"Let me sleep in your fucking house," Roy said, staring at a confused Jamie, who didn't say anything but let Roy in anyway. He could've gone to his sisters house, but she would've asked a million questions. And he didn't want Pheobe to see him at this level of mad. "Fuck," Roy mumbled, checking his phone again to see if you said goodnight back.

You didn't.

"Alright, Royo?"

"If I was fucking alright would I be in your fucking stupid house asking to sleep in your stupid fucking guest room and not- stop fucking looking at me with that stupid fucking face!"

"We can talk tomorrow," Jamie said, "you are not regular grandpa mad right now you are just beyond."

"Fuck off," Roy said, checking his phone again.

Did you see the text? Did you lock the door? Should he call and check?

"Unless you want to talk now? I can put on-" Jamie was cut off by a glare he'd never seen before, it made him want to cower away from it. In all their years training and hating each other and becoming friends, he'd never seen a glare quite like that before. "Okay, night."

As Jamie scurried off down the hall, door closing with a little more force than intended, Roy let his face drop.

Was he wrong? What the fuck was going on? He couldn't imagine a world where you called up the paps and told them how he can't sleep without hearing you say goodnight first. About how he can't truly get comfortable at hotels until he knows you're safe in bed from whatever you were doing that day. Not that you couldn't be out or like he had any say about that but just... he liked to know when you got home after. But no one else knows that shit, that's his personal shit, shit he only shared with you.

Roy wandered over to Jamie's couch, not caring enough to make it to the guest room, and kicked his trainers off, flopping onto the furniture without even taking his jacket off.

Still no text.

After debating calling you to make sure you had stayed in and gone to bed, and saw his text to lock the door, he decided not to. Not that it could, but he didn't want to risk things getting any worse. Was bad enough, really.

Instead, he scrolled back in your messages, looking for a video you'd sent him while he was at the last away game.

But he wasn't after any of the ... intimate ones. He needed a certain one. A specific one, and when he found it, he played it over and over until he could trick his brain into falling asleep.

A simple video, you holding your phone on your face, saying "Goodnight love, miss you. Can't wait to see you tomorrow, and I love you!!"

He played the video until his phone died.

In the morning, Roy woke up to Jamie tip toeing around his kitchen. Roy groaned, his knee fucking aching from the stiff position he'd slept in, for the few hours he even managed to sleep.

"Oh," Jamie froze, "sorry didn't meant to wake you but I'm starvin," he mumbled, "Hungry?"

"No," Roy grunted, stretching out his leg and trying to hold in his grunts of pain. Fuck this couch.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Why the fuck would I want to talk about it with you?"

"Jesus, relax geezer. I figured if ya girl couldn't make you feel better I could at least try. What happened? You guys fight?"

Roy grunted, nodding slightly. Roy weighed his options... go home and fight again, or see if Jamie could help.

"Was it about the article?"

Another grunt. Another nod.

"Awh, mate. Don't take it so hard, everyone makes mistakes. I know she's a private one, was she mad?"

Roy scrunched his eyebrows together. "Why would she be mad?"

Jamie looked confused, "Dunno, cos she hates attention like tha?"

"If that were true she wouldn't have fucking told everyone that shit," Roy mumbled. He realized choosing to talk to Jamie about this was stupid, what does Jamie know about privacy? What does Jamie know about fucking anything?

"Erh, Royo..."

"Fuck this," Roy grunted, standing up but grunting as his knee gave him trouble. He started jamming his feet into his trainers.

"Coach listen," Jamie started again, but Roy just grunted, ignoring him.

"She'll tell the truth today and say sorry, sure of it, hates sleepin' alone."

"Wait, listen to me, seriously." Jamie said, standing in Roy's way when he moved for the door. "Did you guys fight because you were mad at her?"

"No shit," Roy said. "She crossed a boundary that I'd made very fucking clear when we started."

"Erh, I dunno how to say this but..." Jamie took a breath, "wait let me uh," he took a few quick steps back, safely out of Roy's reach. He took another deep breath. "You told them reporters all tha'."

"Fuck off," Roy said, face covered in anger. "Like I would ever do that."

"No really," Jamie said, bouncing his weight between both feet as if warming up to flee Roy's rage at any given moment. "Me and Isaac tried to fuckin' corral ya'at the pub but you were drunk, talkin' about 'er all excited to anyone tha' would listen. An' when we tried tellin' ya that you were talkin' to a pap you told us to fuck off. An' we were drunk too so we did."

"No," Roy said, finally. "That's not what happened."

"Call Isaac if you're sure but like... that is what happened."

"No."

Jamie looked sad. "Were ya mean to 'er?"

Roy wasn't even sure if he believed Jamie. Yes, maybe he got drunk enough that Keeley and Colin had to drag him into the uber. And maybe it was the first time in a while that he'd woken up with that bad a hangover. And he wasn't sure how he even got from the car to the bed, but he was in pajamas and you'd made him a big breakfast. And his car had been back in the driveway even though he'd left it at the pub and... he could vaguely remember talking to random people that night. He remembers telling the boys it was ready to get the ring out, and that he was feeling particularly in love with you lately and...

Oh.

Oh no.

Roy sat back on the couch. Right on the very edge, and put his head in his hands.

"Please," he mumbled, with an air of vulnerability that made goosebumps shoot up Jamie's arm. "Tell me you're joking."

"Sorry," Jamie answered. "But 'm not."

"Oh fuck, I'm fucked." Roy didn't move an inch, sat like a stone statue and Jamie didn't know whether to leave him in it or move closer. Jamie stayed perfectly still, worried about making any move.

"I'm so fucking fucked, fuck!"

And suddenly Roy was on his feet. Checking his pockets for his keys, which obviously weren't there, and he cursed and swore and muttered frustrated nonsense as he searched the couch cushions for his keys. And where the fuck was his phone? Ah, forget the phone. Didn't need the phone, needed the fucking keys.

Where the fuck were his keys?????

"Coach?"

"What!?"

Jaime was pointing the leg of the couch, where the keys were poking out.

Roy grunted grabbing them and rushing towards the door. Jamie had to nearly jump out of his way. Before he left he glanced back at the living room, cushions and blankets severely out of place.

"Sorry."

"All good."

Roy moved to leave again but stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Jamie, shirtless and stupid, and Roy muttered, "thanks."

"Anytime, granddad."

When Roy got home, he parked like shit and raced into the house. He was frantic, calling out your name and looking for you. It was still pretty early, but if you had a shit night like he did you'd probably be up. He threw his coat on the floor and slammed the door behind him, harder than he meant to.

"Babe?" he called, taking the stairs two at a time and ignoring the pain in his knee.

But you weren't in the bedroom, or the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the back deck. You weren't here. Roy sat on the floor in the hallway, head buried in his elbow, and knees drawn up to his chest. The ache in his knee didn't even fucking compare to the one in his chest, the one fueled by guilt and regret and remorse, fuck he was such a fucking idiot.

Of course you didn't go blabbing to reporters. Why would you have done that? You've more than proven your loyalty to him, and your relationship. Not that you'd ever needed to prove anything to him. You'd always been there, supporting him when coaching made him nostalgic and sad. Always patient with him when he was being a dick because he was at a different stage in his life.

And you did it without ever making him feel like you were putting up with him. You made him feel like you were just feeling it with him, like you were loving him through it. And then at one sign of trouble he'd turned it at you, made it ugly, didn't let you explain anything, made it nasty.

He had been so, so awful.

And you hadn't deserved any of it.

He blamed you for him getting drunk and telling strangers how much he loved being the little spoon.

At the sound of the door unlocking, Roy's heart skipped a beat, and he was up on his feet quickly, rushing down the stairs to meet you. You were in casual athletic wear, sunglasses covering your face and hair in a ponytail that was sticking out the back of a baseball cap.

"Hi love," he mumbled, throat closing at the sight of you. You didn't smile when you saw him of course, but weren't frowning either. Your face gave away nothing. But when you took the hat and glasses off, he saw what he caused. He saw the red, puffy eyes from too much crying and too little sleep. Saw the cheeks rubbed raw from wiping those tears away.

And he felt sick. What kinda partner had he been?

A really shit one.

"Morning, Roy."

"You weren't here, fuck, got so scared you'd left."

And while yes, you had left the house, you knew what he meant. He meant thought you'd left him.

"After all this time you should know well enough I wouldn't just cut and run from you without trying first." You weren't trying to be mean, but you were just exhausted. You'd slept like shit. "I texted you that I was going for a walk in case you came home."

Roy didn't know what to say to that, he never did find his phone at Jamie's and just left without it. He was dying to pull you into a hug. Desperate to feel you in his arms, feel your heartbeat against his. But he had no right, not until he told you the truth.

"It was me," he said suddenly. "On Friday when I was drunk I was talking to some reporter. I didn't know I did that, and I was shit to you. I was so fucking shit to you and I'm so sorry. I'm so so fucking sorry, you didn't deserve me berating you for one fucking minute and I did it for a whole weekend. And I wasn't listening to you and I was a shit partner and I'm sorry, love, I'm so sorry. Couldn't fucking sleep proper after fighting and it just made my temper worse and Jamie kept looking at me with that stupid empathy face and..."

"Roy, you've gotta take a breath." you said, putting your hands on his arms, the first time he'd felt you touching his skin in days, made him shut up and frown, just looking down at you.

He took a few deep breaths. And instead of talking more he just grabbed your hips, pulling you into him. You let out an 'oof' as you were pushed into his chest. His lip trembled as he held you, trying not to let you see it, but you just knew he was close to crying, could feel his fingers trembling as his hands spread out over your back.

"We'll talk about it, love."

"No, don't please..." Roy sighed, "please don't be nice to me, be mad at me."

"I can be nice and mad at the same time."

Roy huffed, squeezing you tighter against him for a second before pulling away gently, just enough to look down at you again. The sight of you, light pout on your lips, eyes hurting from his actions, made his heart feel like it was imploding in on itself.

"I'm really sorry," he said, voice a soft and gentle whisper.

"We'll figure it out," you said, "We have two weeks together, I'm sure you'll pull together some grand gesture to make me feel better."

"The grandest. So grand you'll be embarrassed of it. They'll write a movie about it."

You laughed, softly and not your full, happy laugh. But enough to give Roy enough sense to know things will be okay.

"I'm going to shower," you said, "maybe when I get out we can have tea together and talk about it, okay? Maybe they're will be a chocolate croissant from that place I like..."

"Chocolate croissants, got it, yes, there will be." He grabbed you cheeks, kissing your forehead, then both temples, then both cheeks, then he splattered a barrage of kisses from the cheek to your ear, trying to convey all his love and apologies and affections with the sweets pecks.

You laughed again, a laugh closer to your real one, and pushed him off, slipping out of his arms and walking towards the stairs to shower.

Before you could get to far Roy called out to you again, and you looked at him. "We'll be okay, right? You and me?"

"Of course we will," you said, "If we broke up just because you were an idiot we wouldn't have made it one week."

Roy laughed.

He bought ten croissants from that place you like.

[princessmaeee]

All For Us Part III Part I - Part II

Hello ! It's me, again ! Not gonna Lie, I don't remember the last time i Finished that much part in less than a Week. I'm probably more picky when it come to my french words since it's my first language. I feel like english is easier to express feelings, but at the same time I don't know how to express it the way I like ? It's weird.

Anyway, A good part for more Reader and Thanos moment. Not the best but definatly cute. Nam-Gyu exist and he's a bithc ( I kinda like him for real and love the Thanos-Nam-gyu Duo, please don't kill me )

Anyway enjoy this part. TW : Mention of drug, cheating, Nam-Gyu exist.

Tag : @private-vampire @rafesbunniebby

You woke up the next morning, or maybe some hours later, you weren't really sure how much time you slept, on the sound of the music you heard when you woke up the first time. This annoying music can give you the worst headache. You still felt tired and hungry. The snack you had yesterday wasn’t that much.

You sat up in your bed, realising your felt sweaty and it gross you out. You didn’t remember but you probably had a bad dream last Night. 

Whipping the sweat of your forehead, you remove the hoodie and tie it up around your hips and go place yourself in line to go take breakfast. The head still in the pillow, you never heard the voice from behind, calling your name, but you felt your heart skip out of fear when you felt two arms wrapping you from behind to give you a back hug. 

«-Still ignoring me, princess ? »

Thanos, of course, you should have known better. Only him could do such a thing. You try to remove his arms from around your body, but he strongly sticks to you.

«-Thanos, please. I’m too tired to deal with your childish shit.-Then, don’t. Let me just hug you in silence.»

You sight and put your hands on his arms, ready to block him if he wants to go close to your belly.

«-I’m all sweaty, you shouldn’t touch me like this and i probably smell gross. -I don’t care, baby.»

You grunt, annoyed. Back in the days it would be things you would have felt for or found adorable, but today, everything is way more different.  The pets name, his demonstration of affection in public, that were things you felt for.

Out of nowhere, you felt tears in your eyes. You were about to cry. Having him so close to you like this after what happened, the stress of him discovering the pregnancy, the lac of sleep. You hated everything, especially the hormones. Without all that you could manage to hide your emotions way better. One tear slid on your cheek and you couldn’t hole a snort.

«-Y/N ? »

You could feel Thano's concern in his voice as he turned you around. You quickly wiped his tears and looked away, not able to face him. 

«-Mind your business, I'm fine, you said before he could ask you a thing.»

You quickly turn around and take your lunch before going back to your bed. You could ear Thanos calling your name and following you, but you ignored him, tears still falling from your eyes. It could be so easy if He could just ignore you and at if you were two perfect strangers. Before you put your feet on the first strai to go back to your bed, you felt it was to much to keep inside and you turned around to face Thanos. At this point you didn’t care if he could see you cry, or if the other contestant could ear everything. You were just a hurricane of emotions.

«-Why do you still following me ?! We spent the last two years in a fake relationship, so why could you not fake a little more ? Why are you still trying to get me attention ? Can you just not let me alone ?! Stay away from me !»

The other around ad stop eating and just looked at you and the purple hair rapper. Thanos didn’t care about them. He’s concern was all on you. You could see his expression, it wasn’t the same he normally show in public. The naturally confident and sassy Thanos was not the one you had in front of you Right now, it was more like a sad one.

«-Y/N…»

He get closer to you and gently takes your hand. His eyes were locked on you as he wipped one of your tears.

«-I know I messed up, more than once, but I swear I never faked anything. -Just like you swear you never cheated on me ? -I didn’t ! -Oh fuck You, I saw You ! I saw you in your private room with this girl. You kissed her with such passion that I taught you would fuck her right on the table. -But I didn’t ! »

You go silent just like the others. No one dares to say something or interrupts your couple-ish fight.

Thanos passed his hands on his face, already tired of this discussion before he continued since you had nothing to answer.

«-I was High as fuck and still mad from our fight in the morning. When I arrived at the bar that day, the girl still waited for me in my room. She worked at the bar and said she was a huge fan.»

He paused and took a deep breath.

«-She looked so much like You. That’s why I let myself go, but I never fucked with her. I stopped before.»

You were speechless, for many reasons. The first was because you were shocked he showed this part of him in front of everyone. He never really showed you his vulnerability before. And the other reason was how dumb that guy was. Even if he didn’t fucked her, he still kissed her and that was cheating, at least for you. 

«-Listen, I don’t want to talk more about this, especially here. You cheated, End of the story. Now, leave and let me alone.»

That was where the conversation ended. You go back to your bed to eat, whipping out your tears. When you opened your plate, it was full of rice, some veggies and an egg. It wasn’t that much, but it was enough to make you smile.

Player 222 came to see you and sat down in front of you, placing in your plate half of the egg she had in her plate. You looked at her confused. She only smiled before saying it was good for pregnant women and this part was offered by player 149. It was the old woman with her son who’s the number 007. 

You were thankful to 222 and 149 for this act of kindness, it warmed your heart after what just happened with Thanos.

«-So, Thanos is the father ? Asked 222, looking in his direction. -Yeah… »

You  also looked in Thanos' direction. He was with other people. They all talked but him, he was silent, something who never happened. He’s more the kind of guy who is gonna lead the conversation. Seeing him like this made you doubt for a second, considering forgiving him, telling him the truth about the baby. You remember how warm it was in his arms when he hugged you lately. It would be a lie to say you didn’t miss it.

«-Did he know about it ? -No and I don’t know if I should tell him.»

What if he doesn't have a positive reaction ? Tonight you will vote to go home after the game, but if the majority decide to stay and Thanos refuses you keep the kid, who knows what could happen to you ? If he was willing to push people during the first game, leading them you death, maybe he was crazy enough to push you to your own death and the kid death by the same occasion.

The time for the second game came and you was escorted in another room and asked to form teams of 5 players. So far you stayed with player 222 but you had to go separate way.

«-Since we are both pregnant It will be easier for us if we found a team with mens or less than just one pregnant woman.»

It was her idea, but you agreed. You know nothing about the next game after all. Looking around you, you tried to find someone or a little group who could need one more people. 

You stopped your research when Number 124, Thanos Friends found you. He looked at you up and down with a smile.

«-Still Looking for a Team ? -Definitely not yours, you answered.» 

He let a small laugh escape his lips as he got closer to you.

«-I think our team will be your best chance if you want to keep yourself and the baby alive. »

You looked at Player 124 shocked,  surprised he knew about your pregnancy. Automatically, you cover your belly by fear he could do something to you. Seeing you doing this make him laugh as he take some step back.

«-Relax, I will not lay a finger on you. I’m not that kind of guy. -Have You told Thanos ? -No, not Yet. But if you refuse to be our last team member, maybe the information could slip out of my mouth,  Who know. -How did you know I’m …»

You didn’t dare finish your sentence by fear everyone will hear you.

«-I overhear your conversation with the other pregnant girl. You should be more quiet about it if you don’t want everyone to know. -And you should keep the information for yourself if you don’t want to die. -Are you threatening me ? -No, I’m warning you.»

You and this asshole will definitely not get along really well, that’s for sure. Your eyes were locked on his as his smuggy smile didn’t disappear. He knew what he put you into and he was pleased by that.You don’t even know the guy but if you could crush his skull on the first wall you gonna cross, you would.

«-So you’re in or not ?-Do I really have a choice.-Technically, yeah. That’s up to you.-Oh shut up and lead the way to the other teammates.» 

You followed number 124 in silence. Once you were with the other, Thanos seemed surprised to see his friend with you. On his side, he was with a girl with her bottom lip pierced and a guy who looked shy. It’s not exactly the type of team you thought you would have, especially coming from your ex, but it was still better than no team at all.

«-Nam-Gi ! You actually convinced Y/N to join us. I’m surprised. What have you told her ? -Actually, it’s Nam-gyu..-Yeah whatever. What have you said ? »

Thanos seemed so happy to have you in his team, but you weren't as much as him. You were confused, even. This guy, number 124, Nam-Gyu, wasn’t supposed to overhear the conversation you had with Player 222 and He used it to his advantage to bring you there cause his ‘’ boss ‘’ asked him ?! You felt so defeated. Now how can he manage to explain that to Thanos without saying a word about your pregnancy.

«-Well, she looked for a team and since the time was almost out, she didn’t had many options. Right ? »

He looked at you with this venomous smile of his.

«-Yeah, exactly. Otherwise believe me I wouldn’t be there, you answered. -Welcome in the Thanos Team, the only one who can lead you to the Win.»

Some good old Thanos rap to put a good Vibe in our wanna be team. You cannot help but smile before you are led to another room with the other contestants. This Time, the game seemed more complex than the Red Light Green light. Every team will have feets tight up to one another and are going to walk to different activities. They need to finish every little game before the end of the Five minutes allowed. One of those games was Ddjaki. You were good at that game back in your childhood and you never lost against the recruiter. Everyone agreed to let you do it.

Once everyone had their positions, we watched the other teams and learned from their mistakes. Seeing some of them behind killed in front of you was something you wish you will forget one day. It gives you more anxiety minute after minutes. You gave a look at Thanos and Nam Gyu who didn’t even seem bothered by that, casually talking and swallowing their pills. What a bunch of Junkies…

When it was your Turn, your hands were shaky and you did your best to concentrate to hit easily the other colored paper. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and hit. It turned right away and you could continue. 

The other did well too and you managed to finish inside 5 minutes. The guards removed the locks at your feets and you managed to go back to the main room, still alive. On your way, Nam-gyu walked by your side, hands in his pocket.

«-You will vote to stay Tonight, right ?-Absolutely not. I need to go home. I will not put my life in danger another day»

You were stop by his body who placed itself in front of you.

«-I will make myself more clear then. You will vote to stay Tonight, If you don't want your baby daddy to know about your dirty little secret. -Oh so you are the one who is threatening me, now. -Of course not, I'm warning you. But the choice is yours to make »

And he continue his was to the main room. You looked at him leaving as you swear inside if you have to play another game, this guy will not survive. He play to much on your nerves. 

Back to your bed, waiting for the others to come back, you taught about what Nam-Gyu said. You never was the kind of girl to submit to something threatening like this and if Thanos have to know about the baby, He will probably understand the reason why you wanted to leave. So your choice will not change ; You will vote to leave.

That’s exactly what you did tonight. The loss of today didn’t change that much, you will not leave this place super rich, but you will find a way. It will be better outside than here, risking your life and your baby’s life. Your mind was also on player 222 who was in the same situation as you. 

After you had voted X , you saw the girl smiled at you and Nam-Gyu on the other side who looked pissed, but you didn’t care, you knew you had made the right choice.

Sadly, the majority of votes goes to O so you will have to stay and play another game Tomorrow. People are really insane, that’s so creepy. 

You managed to left the main room to go to the bathroom, where you found an open space to showed at the back of the room. With your stressful day and your sweaty dreams from last night, how could you say no to that. 

After you had removed your clothes, you opened up the water and let the hot water flow. It felt like a release. You didn’t even taught about washing your body, you just needed to relax more than anything else. Eyes shut, face in the direction of the water, you never heard when someone entered the room, or maybe you didn’t care. 

It becomes more serious when the water stops and your body got pressed against the cold wall. When you opened your eyes, surprised and ready to hit, you were surprised to see Thanos, who seemed angry.

«-Is that true Y/N ?! Is that fucking true ?! »

Your heart started to beat way faster. You had a good idea why he was there. Nam-gyu probably told him about your pregnancy. You knew it will happen but you didn't think about how you would react if you had to have this discussion. Trembling, more cause of the fear and anxiety caused by Thanos' anger you weren't able to place a word.

«-I…Don’t… -Don’t you fucking dare to say you don’t know what I am talking about ! »

He hit the wall next to your head before taking some step back to calm himself. You stayed there, trembling, trying your best to not cry again and hiding your naked body as much as you could. he definitely have seen everything by now but it was still embarrassing.

When he felt more calm, Thanos looked back at you, but his eyes were more on your belly than on you directly.

«-Are you pregnant for real ? Is that the real reason why you’re here ? »

[0oolookitsme]

Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 

Another piece of his heart was taken then. 

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 

[daryltwdixon]

hi!! i’m kinda new to asks/requests (and also tlou), but was wondering if you were interested in writing a joel fic about his hard of hearing/partial deafness?

can be fluffy/angsty or whatever, just thought i’d put the idea out there (idk if joel’s deafness is written about a lot, sorry if it is) 🫶🫶

Joel Miller x Reader Only A Whisper

Fluffy Jackson!Joel who is afraid of feelings, of hope, of letting himself have something as good as you. But in the quiet of the night, when you think he can't hear, you whisper the words he’s too scared to say. a/n: I'm deeply in my feels with this one, anon! Thank you! x

Jackson was quiet at night. Peaceful, even. Some nights, she thought she’d get used to it, the way the stillness settled over the town like fresh snow. But other nights, it made her uneasy. A world that hand't been safe for years shouldn’t be this calm.

Still, it was easier with Joel beside her.

He slept on his side, always facing the door, always aware. Even here, with locked doors and walls stronger than most, his body never fully let go of the tension. His arm lay across his stomach, muscles loose in sleep but still there, ready. The old cotton of his shirt had stretched thin over the years, soft with wear, and she could see the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

She hesitated, watching him.

She didn’t know when it had started—the urge to say it. Maybe back on the road, when every day felt like a gamble, or maybe here, when he started softening in the ways only she got to see. Maybe it had been there all along, waiting, patient as the moon, for the edge of survival to wear off, for something gentle to take it's place.

She exhaled slowly, heart beating against her ribs like it wanted to jump right out of her chest.

Leaning in, she whispered, “I love you.”

Into the shell of his bad ear—the one that so often missed words here and there, the one that never caught anything quieter than a shout, or worse, a gunshot—soft as a secret.

He didn’t stir.

Her heart pounded anyway, some part of her half-expecting him to hear, to roll over and look at her with those dark, unreadable eyes and tell her she was being foolish. But he didn’t. His breathing stayed even, his body still.

She let out a small, nervous breath of relief, barely more than a sigh. Then, pressing her forehead against his back, she let her eyes slip shut and let sleep take her.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Joel told himself it was just a dream.

The first time, it had caught him off guard. The words had burrowed under his skin and settled in his chest, warm and heavy. He’d kept his breathing even, forced himself to stay still. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it was easier to let himself believe it was a dream. A trick of his half-sleeping mind.

But now, the next night when the world was quiet again, she melted up to him once again. Her breathing was labored, hesitant, uncertain as she leaned into him, cuddling up against his back and lips curling near his ear again. Goosebumps rose over his neck at the feeling of her soft breath against him.

"I love you," she said. The words were muffled, like he was hearing them underwater, but there was no mistaking them.

Joel’s fingers twitched where they rested against the sheets. It wasn’t a dream.

The worst part was that he’d been waiting for this.

Waiting for the moment when her heart caught up to his, when she’d say the words he’d already felt pressing against the walls of his chest for weeks, maybe longer.

But now that it was here, he didn’t know what to do with them.

So he did what he always did—he stayed still.

Not because he didn’t want it. Not because it didn’t mean anything. But because it meant too much.

Because Joel Miller didn’t get to have things like this.

Not after all the years of losing, of holding onto things too tight just to have them slip through his fingers. Not after the things he’d done.

The kind of man he’d become.

A bad man. He knew it. Knew it in the way people looked at him, in the way Tommy had, once upon a time. In the way he carried the weight of every choice he’d ever made, every life he’d taken, every moment where survival had meant being cruel enough, brutal enough to make it another day.

And men like that—men like him—didn’t deserve this.

Didn’t deserve her.

And maybe, if he stayed quiet, if he let her believe he hadn’t heard, she wouldn’t have to take it back. So he kept his breathing even. Kept his body relaxed. Let her have this moment without consequence, without the weight of his knowing.

But he knew.

And now, there was no forgetting it.

A long moment passed, her body warm behind him, her forehead pressing gently between his shoulder blades. Then, with a slow sigh, she settled in and let herself fall asleep.

Joel lay awake long after she did.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The next night, he listened for it.

Waited for it, like some part of him was hungry for it now.

And sure enough, when everything was quiet, when the warmth of the blankets and the soft rustling of the wind outside settled everything into stillness, she shifted behind him again.

He almost smiled. Almost.

"I love you."

It was different this time. Maybe the first few nights she’d said it for herself, testing it out, seeing how the words felt in the dark. But tonight, there was hope in the way she said it, like some part of her wanted him to hear, to wake up, to know.

He wouldn't let that side of him win—stubborn, stupid, cowardly Joel—couldn’t let her keep whispering into the dark, thinking she was the only one carrying it.

So before she could pull away, before she could tuck herself back into that silence, he rolled over, slow and gentle.

He could hear how her breathe froze, her eyes going wide as he turned to face her. He could just barely see her in the dim light, the way her lips parted, the way her fingers curled into the fabric of the sheets like she wasn’t sure if she should run or stay.

Sliding his arm around her waist, he tugged her in, letting her fit against him in a way that always felt so natural, so right between them. The moment stretched, and he could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

And then, low and rough with sleep, he murmured against her temple, “Might be hard of hearin’, darlin’, but I ain’t deaf.”

She stilled.

Then, after a long, trembling pause, she let out a tiny, wobbly laugh—disbelieving, breathless, like she was afraid to trust it. Afraid to let her guard down, to trust that he wouldn't make her feel like a fool for saying it.

Joel hated that.

He didn’t want her to doubt this. Didn’t want her to think for even a second that she’d imagined it, that it wasn't requited.

So before she could pull away, before she could talk herself out of it, Joel lifted a hand and cradled her face to bring her eyes to his, thumb sweeping gently over her cheek, brushing away a tear.

“Hey,” he murmured, tilting her face up so she’d look at him. “No, don’t do that.”

Her eyes shimmered in the low light, full of something fragile, something nervous, and his heart felt like it was constricting in his chest.

“I love you too, baby,” he said, voice warm, steady and tender. His thumb traced her cheek again, slower this time. “Have for a long time.”

Her lips parted, her breath shuddering against him, and for a second, all she did was stare, like she was trying to hold onto the moment, trying to believe it.

Joel didn’t let her second-guess it. He kissed her temple. Then the bridge of her nose. Then her cheek, slow and soft, like he had all the time in the world.

“Shoulda said it sooner,” he admitted, pressing another kiss into her hair. His grip around her tightened, drawing her fully against his chest. “Thought I was dreamin’ it all these nights.” He exhaled, warm against her skin. “And I’m sorry.”

She shifted, her lips brushing against his stubbled jaw, soft and lingering, "You bastard," he could feel her smiling against him, "you're lucky that I meant it,"

Then, when she let out another small, breathy laugh—lighter this time, softer—he finally let himself smile. Her arms snaked around his middle, holding tight, like she wanted to hang on forever, to never let him go.

He didn’t plan on letting her.

Joel’s hands splayed across her ribs, pulling her in, feeling all of her pressed against him. Warm. Safe. Real.

"Promise I'll make it up to ya, baby." he grinned sleepily as his eyes began to shut again.

And when she tilted her head, when she leaned up and kissed him—soft and sweet, giving in a way that made his chest ache—Joel finally let himself have this.

Just this moment, just this quiet night, wrapped in something so new, so foreign, something he never thought he’d get.

Something like hope.

[magicalrocketships]

It's got a header now so I'm using it.

rivers of light part 5

(reminder that this in its entirety contains mpreg, reference to giving birth, Max Verstappen's bad dad, past abuse, and on-track accidents.)

All previous parts can be found in the masterpost here.

Part 5.

Max wakes up when Daniel turns the engine off. He realises that he's slept the whole way from the airport to Renault, and it looks like Bastiaan has too, his little hand wrapped around Max's finger. 

The baby's had a long day of upheaval, and it won't be nice for him until they're home tomorrow. It's not fair, really. Bastiaan's little life has been centred only around Max's home, and the Moses basket he sleeps in on Max's bed, and the blanket Celine had given them that Max likes to spread on the floor and lay Bastiaan on. They've been to the shop when Max couldn't put off going any longer, and to look at the sea to see if it calms Bastiaan now that he's out here looking at it instead of in Max's tummy as Max swam his way through his pregnancy. Bastiaan likes the sea. He likes nestling in to Max's chest as Max stands on the rocky little beach and looks out at the waves. Max misses swimming every day, but he can't leave Bastiaan now and there isn't anyone to ask to look after him. 

"You awake?" Daniel asks, looking back over his shoulder. 

Max yawns. "Yes." Just about, at least. He always feels like he's underwater, but it's been like that for months. He can't remember not feeling like it. Every step feels like trudging through mud. He doesn't think it used to be like that, but he can't stop it. 

"Come on, then," Daniel says. "Unless you need to stay here until Bastiaan wakes up."

"No," Max says. "It is better if he sleeps." 

"Okay," Daniel says. 

Max stumbles getting out of the car. Daniel catches his elbow. 

"Careful."

Max nods. He doesn't look at him. He gets the pushchair out of the back of the car, then gets it ready for Bastiaan's car seat. "Can I leave my suitcase in here?" It's only a little case, overnight, but Max hasn't booked a hotel. He could have afforded it, maybe, but he hasn't got any money coming in and he and Bastiaan can sit up in the airport overnight before their flight back in the morning. Max doesn't need to sleep, not really. He's stayed up longer before. 

"Of course," Daniel says. "I'll take you wherever you need to go after this."

"Okay," Max says, although the only place he's going is back to the airport and back home. He'll think about that later, though. After this. After Cyril. He's going to be so early. Maybe there will be somewhere he can sit with his baby. He doesn't know what he's going to say to Cyril anyway. He thinks he should have waited to have this meeting, but it's too late now. 

"What time's your meeting?" Max asks, as he puts his backpack on after carefully extracting the car seat from the car and securing it into the pushchair. Bastiaan doesn't stir, thank fuck. 

"Ehh," Daniel says. "Whenever I get here, I think."

Max pushes Bastiaan towards the front doors. It hadn't occurred to him that maybe he shouldn't have brought the baby with him, but now that he's here he thinks maybe showing up with a baby in tow won't get him a job. That's what his dad would have said. His dad hadn't hired women because they could get pregnant and who wanted to pay for the time off? He'd always seemed to assume that men who could get pregnant, wouldn't, because that was a weak choice, and the only men Max's dad knew were strong. 

He'd been wrong about Max, but it wasn't the first time. It was just the first time Max hadn't caved. 

Max is going to protect Bastiaan from anything that threatens him, even if it's in blood. 

Daniel flirts with the two receptionists, who clearly know him and he knows back. One of them is a girl with hair like Victoria's. Max misses his sister. He hasn't seen her since before his accident. He doesn’t have her number anymore. The other receptionist is a boy with curly hair who goes pink when Daniel tries to speak French to him. Max wants to roll his eyes, but he doesn't. He will, however, if required, put Bastiaan's pushchair right in the middle of whatever that is, because Max's life is hard enough that he doesn't have to put himself through watching Daniel flirt with people who aren't Max. Max has never had a chance with Daniel. He was too young, too inexperienced, still jerking off a million times a day and dealing with spots when he'd started being his teammate. He couldn't grow up fast enough to keep pace with Daniel, and then he'd had his accident and Daniel hadn't messaged and it had taken so long for Max to be able to cope with looking at his phone that by then it was too late. 

"Max is coming up with me even though he's early," Daniel says, charming his way through the electronic barriers and holding the gate open for Max to push the pushchair through. He gives both the receptionists a wave even as he's heading for the lifts in the corner and pressing the call button. 

Max looks at him. Daniel winks, which explains nothing. The lift doors open. 

Bastiaan starts to wake up as the lift doors ping open on Cyril's floor. He doesn't like the loud noise the lift makes. His little face starts to crease up ready for tears and Max hates seeing him startled. "It's okay, baby," he says. "I know it was loud but it's just a little noise. You don't need to be scared." Bastiaan ignores him and starts to cry. Little tears roll down his cheeks. He's announcing his arrival with fierce little pitiful sobs. Max marches grimly into the outer part of Cyril's office and starts to unbuckle his baby, even as Daniel's saying hi to Cyril's PA and Max can see Cyril inside his office, glass walls giving him zero privacy. 

Max bundles Bastiaan into his arms. "You're making a very loud first impression, little baby," Max tells him, tucking Bastiaan up like he likes, up against Max's chest so that Max can kiss the top of his head and soothe him. "That was a loud noise, wasn't it? And you were sleeping, so I know why that was scary."

Bastiaan hiccups little sobs into Max's t-shirt. Max kisses his soft, downy hair. 

When he looks up, Cyril's standing in his open doorway, looking at Max and at Max's baby. 

"Who's this little one?" Cyril asks, after a moment. 

Max swallows. "My baby," he says his hand curved around Bastiaan's back. His voice doesn't crack. "My son."

"Okay," Cyril says. "Come inside. All three of you. Come on. Let's catch up."

Max glances at Daniel, but Daniel just winks at him again. 

"After you," Daniel says. "I'll bring the pushchair."

And Max, heart pounding, baby hiccuping against his chest, follows Cyril inside.