#before anyone says anything. i was crying my eyes out like an hour ago. let me have this

[chilapis]

Speaking of family…. Chilapis family? 5 children. Maybe more.

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which you run into rafe’s arms whenever there’s trouble. not that he minds, of course.

being rafe’s girlfriend meant relying on him for everything. it made him feel wanted, and made you feel safe. so although it went against all your morals as a woman, it just felt right crawling into a cute boy’s muscular arms whenever you needed comfort or help. whether someone made your drink wrong, or a boy was hitting on you, or anything else really, rafe was there to help you out. you’d just grab his hand or pull him aside, and he’d mutter an “i gotcha, kid,” before going to handle it.

he’d assumed you’d be okay going to a friends birthday party. he wasn’t invited, it was a ‘no boys allowed’ kind of party. just gossiping pillow fights and giggles. and these were your friends, if you had any issues you’d sort them out yourself. but, spoiler alert — he was wrong.

rafe was at tannyhill, sitting on the couch on the balcony as he replied to his fathers email about the dumb cross that rafe wanted to sell. it was probably around two hours ago when you left, in your cute dress that he bought you, giving him a big kiss before leaving with a birthday gift in hand. the sun was setting, it wasn’t even that late. so he certainly wasn’t expecting a security alert that the front door was opening, nor your pouty face appearing at the balcony door as you opened it slowly.

your lips were red, matching the unnatural hue on your cheeks. little white lines stained from your eye down to your jaw. your eyelashes were droopy and had little wet drops on them. which leaves him to one conclusion; you were crying.

“..shit,” he mutters under his breath, drawling out the word with parted lips and sighing as you plop yourself down beside him. “what happened, baby?” an arm instantly wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. you instantly cuddle into him, like you always do. right back in your lover’s arms.

“..anna,” you sniffle, voice soft and shaky. “i don’t get it. i don’t get why she’s so nice to everyone except for me. hates me for no reason, rafe, she hates me—“ a quick interruption on his part, quickly shutting you up because you’re not answering the question properly.

he finds it hard to believe that anyone could hate his girl. “what did she do?” he asks, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes so you really understand what he’s asking for. specifics.

“she’s just so rude. said my highlights were way too grown out, said my dress did nothing for my figure and washed out my tan, said that my nail polish was chipping..” you trail off and sniffle. “anything to prove im not perfect, rafe. like duh, i know im not, but she likes to point it out. then she always giggles like it’s just a silly joke,”

“..uh huh,” he hums along. “‘n you know thats not true, right?” he checks, as if it’s obvious.

“well it is true. haven’t gotten my hair done in months, and my nails are chipping, so..”

he sighs. “not that part, kid. c’mon,”

“…that was the only part, rafe,”

“talking about the ‘perfect’ part,” he clarifies. “you know you’re perfect, c’mon, don’t start saying you aren’t,”

“no one’s perfect,” you counter.

“i beg to differ,” he shrugs. “now c’mon, whaddya want me to do about this bitch, huh?” he changes the topic before you argue and he has to assure you more.

“nothing, rafe,”

“nothing?”

“mhm.”

he huffs and leans back on the couch. he knows you. you don’t want him to do nothing about this. “why the hell are you here then, if you don’t want me to do anything?”

“to see my handsome boyfriend ‘n tell him what happened,”

“..right,” he says after a moment. “sure thing, kid. i won’t do anything. whatever you want,” you can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

you smile softly at his agreeable attitude, his voice and touch alone comforting you more than anyone else could. so you cuddle into him more, doe eyes looking out at the sunset overlooking tannyhill, at the american flag waving in the humid wind. you’re perfectly content letting him dry the leftover tears and spending the night with him instead of your little friends.

but you and him both know he’s gonna be making an angry phone call to a certain girl after you leave.

[soobnny]

we'll never have sex — changbin x reader ; established relationship & hurt/comfort (1.2k words)

there is nothing more beautiful than the promise of love even if you cannot guarantee or give that certain level of intimacy just yet

for my girls with a complicated relationship w sex & yes this is based off of leith ross’ song

Facetimes with Changbin always last longer than they should. 

Had it been anyone else, the call would’ve dropped more than an hour ago. You’d have been found guilty for finding any excuse to warrant you some silence–the slightest tinge of awkwardness, the moment conversation runs out, faking plans.

Never with Changbin.

The static of phone calls stretch on, neither of you having moved much. You can’t remember how long it’d been since either of you said something, but you’ve never minded. The quiet that came with your boyfriend had always felt comfortable. Almost safe.

In your periphery, just at the top most right of your screen, you can see him sprawled across his bed, signature hoodie to match the boyfriend look, and fingers lazily scrolling through his phone. 

“Still awake, baby?” His voice breaks the silence, teasing almost, but still gentle. 

“Mhm.” You hum, shifting in your position a little. “But ‘m a little sleepy.”

“You should go to bed.”

“No.” Changbin chuckles at your refusal, deep and raspy through the phone. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, distinguishably fond even with the poor quality of the video.

For a second, you allow yourself to just watch the boy–his glazed eyes, the softness in his features accentuated by the low light of his room, the warmth of his smile. 

Almost safe. Almost reassuring. 

You wonder if it’s all a facade, wonder when he’d finally break, wonder when he’d leave you because you refuse to let him do anything beyond a kiss. Maybe no amount of love, even from the right person like Changbin, will ever be enough to change that.

You try to scold yourself. Self-destructing thoughts are too familiar, they reverberate in your head like you’d been thinking about it for a while, like they’d been practiced and practiced until permanently tattooed. 

The tears come without warning, mid-scolding. Big and heavy and warm. They pool at the edges of your version, and it makes you feel pathetic that you hurry to press the sleeve of your hoodie against your face. 

Changbin notices immediately.

“Hey.” his voice sharpens, the playful edge he’d been sporting earlier gone in a split second. “(Name)? Baby, hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, and oh god, he’s going to leave you. He’s going to leave you because you’re such a crybaby, and anyone with a normal fucking mind wouldn’t do this to him. Anyone under normal—kinder—circumstances wouldn’t think like this. 

“Baby.” He tries again, softer this time. “Talk to me.” 

Your throat tightens around something akin to a lump. You try to swallow it down. 

“Why’re you crying? What’s wrong?” 

There’s a long pause before you finally speak.

“What if I… what if…” You start, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t know how to continue, words disjointed and dismembered. “If I said you could never touch me, would you still want to be with me?”

Changbin pauses for a fraction of a second, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion. But you go on, inundating him with the fears that have spent your entire life trying to catch up with you.

“I can’t give you what you want. It’s what you want, isn’t it? Would you still stay with me even if I told you that I never want to have sex?”

The boy’s expression softens immediately. He can hear his own heart break at how fragile you sound, at how shattering it is to look at your tear-streaked face through a screen, at the things that could’ve transpired for you to think that he’d ever leave you because of that, just because of something so menial to him in a relationship.

“Of course I’ll stay.” He says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “That doesn’t change anything.”

His words are meant to be comforting, the small but sure smile on his lips should’ve been enough to return your peace, but instead, the tears well up again. Heavier this time. 

“Wait. Wait, wait—hold on.” His face suddenly disappears off the screen as he fumbles with his phone. He sounds rushed. “I’m… I can’t just look at you cry and not do anything about it.”

Then the call ends.

It isn’t until fifteen minutes later when a sudden knock on your door shakes you from your self-pity do you see him again. And he’s standing there, slightly out of breath, the same hoodie you’d seen earlier half-zipped with his hair tousled from the cold wind outside. 

“Binnie.” Your voice cracks. “What are you doing here?”

Changbin doesn’t say anything at first, just allows himself to look at you—eyes tracing over the tear stains on your cheeks, and the way you’re hugging yourself with the sleeves of one of his jackets. 

Then, without a word, he slips a hand beneath your jaw, tilting your face to look you in the eyes. His palms on your skin feel warm, calloused but gentle as he cradles you in his hands. “I think…” He pauses. 

A heartbeat passes.

“I think you look lovely.” He murmurs, tone low and gentle, abating the tempestuous anxieties swelling in the pit of your stomach. “And I love you. Not because of what you think I’m expecting from you, but because I love you. The entirety of you.”

You press your face into the crook of his neck as an ugly sob escapes your throat. The tears spill over again, faster, and you feel so ridiculous for crying even more in front of him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He pulls back, leaning in to press a kiss to your wet cheeks. His voice is firm, but not unkind. Never unkind. And his eyes held no hesitation, no flicker of doubt in the way he’s looking at you right now. “Did I say anything to make you feel this way?”

Changbin tries to hide how he feels about his question, like he could never imagine being the reason why you’re sobbing like this.

“No, oh my god. Binnie, no. It’s not you.” 

“Okay, it’s not me.” His voice is still kind, relieved. “I’m never expecting anything from you, okay?”

And just as gentle as he’s holding you, he kisses you. Nothing desperate, nothing hurried even. Just slow and lingering, like he’s savoring the moment for exactly what it is. He isn’t kissing you to take you to bed, not to ask for anything more, not even to change your mind.

Changbin kisses you just to kiss you. 

Just to hopefully show you that he means everything he said to you. 

“I’ll take care of you.” His fingers thread through your hair. “I love you.”

Quietly, tiredly, you start to show a small smile. “Thank you.”

Loving you is so easy for Changbin. Like second nature. Like falling in love with your laughter, and the little parts of you that make up your sum. And you’re aware that it’s going to take time to heal yourself—that it won’t be so easy all the time, that there will be days like these again, but you also know enough that he is genuine and that he loves you with no expectations even if it’s hard to believe sometimes.

Seo Changbin loves you with every bit of conscience he was born with. He loves you simply. 

You stay like this for a while. Safe. Reassuring. Until you feel the sickness less and less.

[maxlarens]

OP: i can’t complain but i will

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri

word count: 2.4k+

an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!

I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out

Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.

His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—

No one’s cheering for Oscar—

Tom is on the radio.

Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.

Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.

Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.

A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.

He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.

He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—

Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.

He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.

And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.

Fuck.

So Oscar grins and he bears it.

He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—

That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…

He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.

Oscar gets it more than anyone.

II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay

Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.

It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.

He’s trying to be okay.

He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.

And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.

It’s making him crazy.

He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.

You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.

Fuck, and he would—

He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.

Lando frowns, his back to the lens.

Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.

Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—

Speaking of Oscar.

He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.

Because it hurts.

Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.

Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.

Some chained, angry dog on a leash.

Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.

It’s enough.

III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal

You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.

It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.

Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—

Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.

You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.

You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.

It's making your heart ache.

You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.

And it's fucking unfortunate.

But it's them. So it's fine.

You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.

But they're trying.

And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.

So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—

It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.

Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.

"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.

You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.

"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."

"Yeah," you whisper back.

You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.

"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.

You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.

"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.

You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.

Lando clears his throat.

In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.

You laugh, just a little.

Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.

Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.

“Hey,” you smile warmly.

He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.

You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.

“You okay?”, you ask.

Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”

You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”

He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Yeah,” because you get it,

Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—

Speaking of.

Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.

“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”

You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.

Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—

You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.

You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.

Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”

You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—

“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—

and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.

this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.

ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!

[saidrabbles]

vulnerable

pairing: g-dragon x reader warnings: none word count: 1.1k

.

— this is for anyone that feels like a burden to others if they dare open up about their feelings —

.

jiyong slides in his chair, letting out an exasperated sigh. music production has been so stressful, trying to meet the high expectations put on his name. g-dragon. sometimes, he wishes he can run away from this name, from his genius producer reputation. but he loves music, his fans and...he wouldn't have met you.

he met his girlfriend of three months now through mutual friends, and he couldn't be more thankful. you're everything to him, which is why your reply made him sulk.

jy: hi baby, are you free tonight? ;) y/n: hii my beloved, im sorryy :( work has piled up and i see no escape. i'll be busy for the next few days :(

several days is way too long of a time without seeing you. "i don't blame her, i'm struggling the same with my work. but i would love to see her for an hour or two." he was ranting to his bestfriend, taeyang, on the phone with a visible sulk in his voice. "i think you should tell her that jiyong, maybe she was too stressed to think of meeting for a few hours."

he was staring at the demo he produced a few hours ago, his mind thinking of ways to make the song sound better. he forgot taeyang, still on the other side of the call, but a feminine voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "did she say she's busy with work for a few days?" "yeah, why?" he cleared his voice, "uhm guys, what are you on about?"

hyorin, taeyang's wife, sounded worried. "i think you should go check up on her, jiyong-ssi." he sat straight in his seat "why? what does it mean when she says she's busy?" hyorin sighed on the other end, "i can't talk in detail about it because it's not my place but, (y/n) has struggled with being vulnerable because of a previous relationship." he stood up fully now, rushing to save his work. "i coincidentally went to visit her with a meal when she said she was busy, and she was having a breakdown...she thinks she will be a burden if she made people rush to her side everytime she's going through something." his heart felt like it stopped working, like it malfunctioned. why would she...she's not comfortable with me?...

.

.

you heard a knock on your apartment door and you started wiping your tears, the delivery man doesn't need to be seeing dried tears and puffy eyes, you tried to joke. "you can leave it just on the inside-" you were super-glued to your place. it wasn't the delivery man. "ji-jiyong?" your voice came out thick from all the crying you did. "can i please come in?" his voice was almost a whisper, like he is afraid to raise it any higher in case you run the other way.

you silently opened the door wider to allow him in, not knowing what to do with yourself. run, hide, don't show him your weakness. your traumatised mind was screaming at you, but you were still glued in-front of the gentlest man you've ever met. his eyes had an expression you couldn't read; pain? guilt? sadness..?

your body starts forcing you to walk into the living room, but before you turned around he leaped and wrapped his arms around your waist, his head leaning into your shoulder, engulfing you whole. you stayed in your place, you didn't understand what was happening. "(y/n)" he breathed again. "(y/n)" he breathed out, "why are you crying, alone, when i'm here?" you felt your body shaking, so you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head into the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide from the confession he was asking of you.

you held him tighter, and he returned it by pulling you closer to him. "it's not about you" your voice was more of a whisper than anything. "i know baby" you shifted in his arms, "you know?" he slowly started drawing circles on the small of your back. "hyorin told me a bit about it, but" he placed a kiss on the top of your head as he rested his chin on the top of your head, "who in their right mind would not want to hold you in their arms, like this, and smell your floral shampoo?" he tried to lighten the mood.

"a whiny, clingy person" you started "that's what he told me when i called him, needing reassurance." at which point did your tears started pooling around your eyes again, you don't know, but you notice how jiyong starts swaying the both of you gently right and left, like he's telling you he's listening. he knew you still had more to say. "i'm the type of person that holds it in, i don't complain unless i've suppressed my emotions for too long. at some point in my relationship, he started sighing anytime i tried to express how i'm feeling.." you started crying, but wanted to continue,

"so, i stopped telling anyone how i feel. every time i tried to speak, my mind would start to attack me, scream at me, and it shut me up." you hid your face in his chest as you cried your heart out. you let out all of your pent-up feelings to another human being after all this time. it wasn't just anyone, it was to the person that mattered the most to you. his arms melted away your sadness, stress, frustration. after what felt like hours, your cries were now sniffles, slowly settling into this newly cleansed heart.

you felt jiyong pull away, and pull you with him over to the couch in the living room. he sat you down, held your tear-stained face ever so gently, wiping any escaping tear from your (e/c) eyes. "your vulnerability" he kissed the space between your brows "is what you makes you human" he kissed your left cheek "becoming someone you can lean on," he kissed your right cheek "is a great honour for me." he kisses your nose "i want to know your everything, i want you to cry only in my arms, and to complain when life feels unfair." he grazed his thumb over your lower lip.

he slowly leaned in, placing a feather-like kiss. you smiled as he kissed you again, deepening the kiss, like he's sealing the promise he made to you with his warm, soft lips. you melted, feeling your mind settle into an unheard whisper. he rested his forehead on yours, sighing happily.

"i love you, kwon jiyong." he giggled at the mention of his full name, "i love you too, (y/n) (l/n)." you were both giggling at this point. you settled on his lap, as he held you close to his chest. feeling his heartbeat, you felt yourself come home. "thank you, my dearest." he reassuringly squeezed your upper arm. "always, my most beloved."

a/n: im working on a gdragon x reader slow burn friends to lovers reuqested by anon, but enjoy this scenario written by yours truly :)

[vanishingstarrs]

loss of my life ( k. bakugo x reader, anxiety, depression, mourning, stages of grief, character death mentioned, some self deprecation OR your boyfriend laments the loss of his life and struggles through the reality of being the one left alive ) ( and what if i was feeling sad ) ( i’m actually so sorry omg xx ) ( play loml by taylor swift if u want this to hit extra hard </3 )

The sky was crying.

Katsuki Bakugo disliked nothing more than the rain, the whole concept of it made him feel extremely weak— useless. Not only did the heavy downpour make it harder for him to produce sweat and therefore harder to use his quirk, but being drenched made everything much slower and heavier, so cold and lifeless. He never understood what you liked about it so much.

Not until he was sitting on a bench, tears and rainwater blurring his vision, the two liquids blending together and making it hard to distinguish whether he was crying. He tilted his head back, letting the water pelt against his skin as he finally released his breath.

For a moment… it almost felt like the clouds were doing all the hard work for him, he didn’t even have to cry. A sudden crackle of thunder snapped against the sky, screaming so he didn’t have to, angry for him over life’s injustice.

He didn’t understand it. And then he did.

He could understand why you’d sit at the window for hours, staring out at the rain with a serene look in your eyes, your whole body at ease.

The text cursor blinked up at him mockingly as he remained frozen, looking at his phone, your contact pulled up. It was still favorited on his phone. He hit call after a few seconds, letting the other phone in his hands (one he paid for solely so he could keep doing this) go on and on, the special ringtone you’d picked out specifically so you’d know it was him calling played out. Over the speaker he heard it… your voice.

“Hey! It’s Y/N, I’m off saving the world right now so leave it at the beep and I’ll call back… or not ‘cause I hate phone calls… unless you’re my boyfriend… I’ll text ya! Okay bu— beeeeep.”

The recording cut off before you could fully say bye in that signature cute way that was simply so you, it was more of a buh-bye, with you dragging out the final vowel. If anyone else had said it that way he would’ve found it annoying, told them to speak normal. With you… well, he thought anything that you did endearing.

He wished he’d been strong enough to save you.

His finger twitched, and before he knew it his whole hand was shaking. He stared helplessly at it while his heart went haywire inside his chest.

Dying… he was definitely dying. He was dying and he would get to see you again—

“Kacchan?”

It was overwhelming. The tightening in his chest, the sense of nostalgia washing over him, the longing he felt for someone whose blood had run cold months ago.

A familiar voice broke him out of his reverie, Katsuki looked up to meet green eyes.

How he wished they were yours… he’d often get lost in the world behind your eyes, picturing where life would lead the both of you, together.

“What are you doing out here? You hate the rain.”

He was crying.

It was obvious to his childhood friend, even with the rain trying to disguise it. Izuku Midoriya knew him like the back of his hand, and he knew how much he was hurting with your loss.

“I know you don’t feel like celebrating right now, why don’t we go back inside?” Deku continued,“I’ll walk you to your room.”

He’d rather be in yours… a room now empty, it used to be filled with all your things— books, knickknacks, posters on the walls, photos you’d force him to take that he secretly loved being in because it meant you felt he was worth remembering for years to come… he used to love spending time in your dorm if not only for your scent, being enveloped in it made him feel warmer than he’d ever known before…

��She’s gone.” He finally spoke.

You really were gone. You weren’t coming back. You wouldn’t appear once more someday, jumping up from behind him to yell “sike” and laugh off just how good you’d gotten him. You’d never hold his arm again, or force your freezing cold hands under his shirt. Never text him from across the classroom how much you missed him despite having spent the whole morning in his room, getting ready and taking over his whole bed with your makeup. You wouldn’t whine about making the wrong shoe choice for the day and wait for him to begrudgingly let you jump on his back for him to carry you back to the dorms. He’d never hear your annoying laugh again, or stare at the little mole you had under your left eye. The days of flushing in embarrassment when you forced a bit of pda on him in the hallway before class were gone, and so were your secret moments behind closed doors. There was no more holding back, he was crying again.

He wouldn’t see you again.

Izuku gulped, frowning deeply,“I’m so sorry, Kacchan…”

He looked up, eyes somber.

You were the loss of Katsuki Bakugo’s life.

[g4rvez-r3id]

No One is Alone

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: Spencer realizes you guys might have more in common than he thought when he finds out your parent also has schizophrenia.

Category: Angst, mostly Fluff

Warnings: poorly written one-shot (sorry y’all), crying, reader’s father has schizophrenia, concerned spencer, reader tells a story about her father having an episode, reader’s father is a violent schizophrenic but this does not reflect on those who have schizophrenia! reader has semi-daddy issues, reader has hair but hair color and length is not mentioned! spencer being such a sweetheart! <3

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! back at it again with another lil fanfic one-shot? so i wrote this one to be kind of a personal one since my own parent has schizophrenia and honestly it’s one of the reasons i relate to spencer so much. i’m sorry if this affects anyone, but i wanted to write this one for myself :) i don’t know too much about schizophrenia, i only just know what i was feeling so a lot of this is just reader feeling a lot of feelings and spencer comforting them! i hope you like this one nonetheless! <3

You were constantly checking your cell phone. Every two minutes and ten seconds, you kept checking. And after that, you’d sigh in relief, rub your temples and go right back to work. You’d repeated this for over an hour and a half.

And Spencer had been watching it. Watching you. Of course, not to be creepy or anything. He’d just happened to notice and he was concerned.

You’d joined the BAU a little over less than a year ago and still not one person knew anything about you. Except Spencer. You often kept to yourself but somehow opening up to him was just easier. He never judged, never pried. Some might say that maybe that’s because he had a bit of a crush on you and you wouldn’t exactly deny the fact that you thought he was cute.

Spencer had looked away as he went to focus back on his work and then your phone started to vibrate and you quickly picked it up, nearly knocking over your coffee off your desk — and walked away from your desk.

“Hello?” You’d asked a little frantically as you marched out of the bullpen.

Spencer had looked around before leaving his desk, deciding to follow you out of the bullpen to see what you were up to. He’d followed your voice to an empty office and peeked in as he saw the back of your head.

“So you’re both okay?” You’d asked and waited for the response on the phone. Your tense shoulders sank in relief as your head bowed down and you nod, “That’s good. And Dad’s back on his medication?” Medication? Spencer furrowed his brows as he watched you nod along to the conversation.

“Okay, that’s good. And you sure you’re gonna be fine?” You asked and waited once more. “Okay, well, I’m at work, so I got to let you go.“ A small pause. “Okay, I love you, Mom. Bye.”

You hang up and put your phone back in your pocket and you take a minute. Your head bows down once more and Spencer all of a sudden sees your back bouncing up and down and he can hear you crying. He frowns, he hates seeing you cry.

Spencer decides to back away, going to leave you alone since it seems like you need it right now. But the floorboard creaks underneath his shoes and you turn around with a gasp and you finally see the man with a guilty look on his face.

“Reid…” You turn away quickly as you begin to wipe your eyes and your nose. “What are you—?” Spencer shakes his head and holds his arms up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just… I saw you kept checking your phone and I was worried so I just wanted to… check on you.”

Spencer walks into the room more and he can see just how puffy and red your eyes are and his heart aches at that. “Are you okay?” He asks in a small voice and you take a deep breath and nod your head but your eyes say it all.

“I just… I don’t want to bother you with it.” You say in a hoarse voice and Spencer wonders if your voice has sounded like that all day.

He walks into the room fully and shuts the door behind him as you sit on the floor and Spencer’s heart breaks even more as he sits next to you on the floor.

“You are not bothering me with anything,” Spencer tells, placing an arm around you to comfort you. Granted, he’s a little awkward when he does it but he still does so. “Will you tell me what’s the matter?”

You sniffle and look down as you fiddle with the ends of your sweater. “Uh… it’s my dad.” Spencer sighs, thinking that something may have happened to him. He didn’t know that he wasn’t far off from his hypothesis. You didn’t talk about your family much, just that you had parents that were still together and that you had a fairly normal childhood.

“He’s, uh,” You sniffle once more. “He’s not… well.” From your sentence, Spencer would’ve assumed that maybe your dad was physically ill but the way your tone sounded, something was off.

“What do you mean ‘not well’?” Spencer asked and you looked down at your hands, avoiding any and all eye contact. But nonetheless, you decide to rip off the band-aid. “My dad, uh, he has… schizophrenia.”

“And he had one of his episodes because he forgot to take his medication. And my mom called me and she was scared because he keeps thinking that there’s a family living in our basement. Or that I’ve been kidnapped by them. And my mom was so scared he was gonna hurt someone. And… he…” You pause and try to hold it together. “He… threw a knife at my mom.” You wipe your eyes once more. “They’re at the hospital now and he’s medicated and my mom is okay. But the way she sounded, she was so scared, Spencer.”

“He… he’s usually violent when he has his episodes. And the medication… the medication helps. On the medication, he’s normal. But he’s… forgetful sometimes. He was, uh, diagnosed when I was ten. I can’t tell you how many times I had to lock myself in my room when he got like that.”

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. And it was like his childhood seemingly flashed before his eyes. He’d been through the same thing with his mother. Hell, they probably shared the same story at one point. He had no idea you went through that, too. And suddenly all he could envision was a young you, going through the same thing with your dad and his heart broke again.

“It’s like… sometimes, I can’t escape it. And it’s like I’m a kid again and… sometimes, I fear I may… end up like him.” You start to sob again and this time, Spencer pulls you in close and holds you as he cry into his dress shirt.

You stay like that for a good thirty minutes until you finally pull away. Your eyes have gotten even more puffier and you wipe them with the ends of your sleeve.

“You must think I’m such a wreck.” You attempt to joke. But Spencer shake his head and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I definitely don’t. In fact, I understand.”

You nod at him, knowing his own history with his mother having schizophrenia. He was open about it but you never felt like talking about it, in fears no one would understand. And you never told Spencer because he had his own fair share of “crazy”, you didn’t want to burden him with that.

“I wish you would’ve told me this sooner so that you weren’t dealing with this all by yourself.” Spencer tells, he strokes your arm with his hand as you shake your head, “I didn’t want to bother you with it.” You reveal.

Spencer shakes his head at you, “You could never bother me. I understand this subject all too well. Do you know how many times a day I fear the fact that I may receive the schizophrenic gene? Let me tell you, Y/n, a lot.” You look down and Spencer looks at you, “I just want you to know that you’re not alone. No matter how much you think you may be. You’re never alone.”

With a nod, you grab his hand and hold it and he rubs his thumb against your knuckles, as if it’s serving as a reminder that he’s here, with you. And he understands.

“Can we just stay here for a minute?” You ask, quietly — almost wanting to kick yourself in the head for even suggesting it in case he didn’t or had other things to attend to.

“We can stay here as long as you need.” Spencer assured and you smile at him and thank God that he was the one that followed you and not anyone else.

You handled things by yourself since you were a kid. You’d always been independent and that meant you were so used to being alone and dealing with your dad’s schizophrenia, you didn’t think twice when you decided not to talk to Spencer about it. But he’d made it clear that you could talk to him if needed.

And maybe for once, you didn’t feel alone. And maybe somebody else could understand.

[reverie-starlight]

{peace - atsumu}

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!

very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3

“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.

it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.

atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.

he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”

you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”

he freezes a little out of pure shock.

atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.

he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.

he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.

however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?

and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.

“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.

you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”

he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”

you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.

“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”

you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.

he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.

but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”

he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”

you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”

he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”

he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”

you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.

“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”

your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”

“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”

you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”

he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.

he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.

“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3

hope you enjoyed :)

some tags :3

@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring

[slut4thebroken]

Second Chances

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x reader

Summary | Emmett takes advantage of your kindness and hospitality.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, non con, emotional manipulation, praise, guilt tripping, very large age gap, painful sex, first time, breeding, crying, bro has hella trauma fr.

Words | 2.5 k

Notes | Direct result of my Emmett brain rot (Also two fics in one day??🫣)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Here you go.” You smiled, handing the steaming mug to him. 

“Thanks.” His voice was quiet as he took it from you and held it in his lap. 

“What’s your name?” You asked, sitting down next to him, hoping you weren’t intruding too much. He paused for a moment, seemingly debating if he actually wanted to make conversation with you and give you “personal” information about himself. 

“Emmett.” He finally said. 

You gave him your name and watched as his eyes dragged down your body, taking in every inch of you. With a blush, you cleared your throat and looked away for a moment to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Are you warm enough?” He looked over you again with a neutral expression that made you squirm a little. 

“Actually I’m still a little cold. Is there anywhere I could go that’s inside?” 

“Oh- yes! Of course.” You said quickly as you got to your feet. “My parents will be out of the house for another couple of hours so you can use some extra blankets and maybe lay down on the couch for a while.” You smiled. He didn’t return the expression as he stood up and followed you for a couple minutes until you finally walked up a porch to the front door. 

“Okay, let me just grab another blanket and then I’ll start the fire place as well.” You ran off to retrieve a blanket and when you came back, he was sitting on the couch looking around the room. 

He gave you a small “thank you” after you handed him the blanket and you could feel his eyes on you as you walked forward, then kneeled down in front of the fireplace. “You live here with your parents?” He suddenly asked, almost startling you. 

“Yeah. Since there’s three of us, we got our own place. A lot of other people had to share.” He hummed in acknowledgment and you finished up with starting the fire before turning around to face him, finding his eyes already on you. “Can I get you anything else?” 

“This is more than enough.” He said softly. 

“Okay… Well, I’ll let you rest. If you’re hungry I can try to make something?” You offered with a kind smile. 

“Actually I’d rather talk with you.” 

“Oh-” You said, eyes widening in surprise— He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would want to make small talk with a stranger. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to someone like this.” You hesitantly got up and sat down next to him on the couch. 

“Like what?” You asked curiously. 

“So loud… and about things other than survival.” His voice was still quiet, but this time there was a bit of a solemn undertone to it. 

“Oh.” You bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, but not really knowing how to approach this. “You never… had anyone to talk to about normal stuff? Surely it wasn’t all survival.” You can’t even imagine what he must have experienced. When he suddenly looked away and clenched his jaw, you realized that you might’ve over stepped. “I’m sorry, that was— I shouldn't have pried…”

“It’s fine. I had a family, but they’re gone now.” He still wasn’t looking at you. Taking one last sip from the mug, he leaned forward, then placed it on the coffee table. 

“God, I- I’m so sorry.” You said quietly. 

“It’s silly, but… I miss being able to hug them— to hug people.” He finally looked at you again, this time with a sad smile. “I remember the last time I felt someone’s touch… 11 weeks ago.” That must have been when his family died…

“Would you like a hug?” You offered nervously, hoping you weren’t too bold again. He studied you for another moment before nodding. 

“That would be really nice.” Once you had his approval, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, letting him do the same even though his wet clothes were starting to dampen yours. He let out a quiet breath and relaxed into the embrace. “Thank you… I’ve been so lonely.” He whispered, making you frown. 

“You won’t have to be anymore. The people here are very kind, you’ll make plenty of friends.” 

“I can tell.” His voice was a little amused now and he pulled back just enough to look at you. “If it’s not too much trouble… could I hug you a little more?” 

“Of course.” You said instantly, then let out a startled sound when he lifted you onto his lap so you were straddling his thighs. You thought he meant more as in for a longer period of time, not.. this…

“Thank you.” He said again, pulling you closer and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You were stiff for a few seconds, still trying to process this new development, but finally you relaxed into him and hugged him a little tighter. ���I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.” He whispered against your neck. 

“To hug?” You wondered, trying to understand. 

“Yes. But also the gentle touch of a woman.” A blush took over your face and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You know, my wife… I was with her when she passed.” He said quietly. You were already dreading where this was going, not sure you could handle learning about any more of the pain he’s suffered since the start of everything. “I had a really hard time understanding and accepting this… but she said she wanted me to move on. To be happy again.” One of his arms stayed wrapped around your upper body, but the other moved a little lower, pulling you closer so your hips were also flush with his. 

“Emmett…” You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he just tightened his grip and you finally felt the bulge pressed up against your heat. You tried not to gasp at the realization.

“Shh… It’s okay. I just— You look so much like her…” You had no idea what to say. You’ve never been in a position like this before. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly pulled away and you stared down at him in confusion. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve this. Not after everything I’ve done— everything I didn’t do.” Your lips parted, but no words could come out for a moment.  

“You deserve feeling safe and cared for. Everything you had to do was for the sake of staying alive.” At least you assumed it was. Honestly you have no idea what he’s done. “And it’s not your fault— what happened to your family. You did everything you could.” You said softly and he started shaking his head. “Yes. You can’t blame yourself, Emmett. Maybe that’s why your wife said that to you before she passed… because she knew how much you’d struggle with it.” 

“You remind me of her so much.” He said through a choked sob, making you freeze. You had no idea he’d get so emotional. Not knowing what else to do, you just pulled him back into the hug and held him tightly. “That’s exactly the kind of response she would’ve given.” He croaked. In response, you just hugged him even tighter. 

“It’s okay…” You whispered. “I’m so sorry, Emmett. No one deserves to go through what you have.” 

“It hurts.” He cried, making your heart ache for him. 

“Tell me what you need. How can I help?” You said quickly, not wanting to see him like this any longer. 

“Can I— can I kiss you?”

“What?!” You choked out, making him pull back to look at you. The tear tracks on his cheeks were far less than what you thought they’d be, but maybe they just wiped off on your dress. 

“Please. I miss her so much and… god you look exactly like her.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. 

“I…” You’ve never kissed anyone before. Are you really about to give it away to a stranger you just met less than an hour ago? “Emmett…”

“I know I don’t deserve it— I know. But I just… it hurts so bad, I can’t take it.” He all but whimpered, making your hesitant expression melt into something softer and more sympathetic. 

“…I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You admitted quietly and you swore his eyes darkened, but it was too hard to really tell. 

“I know I’m asking far too much of you— I know I don’t deserve your kindness,” 

“Stop saying things like that.” You frowned. “You deserve kindness, you deserve to feel loved, just like everyone else.” He stared at you for a moment, his eyes still glossy with tears, then he was suddenly leaning forward and capturing your lips in a kiss. You let out a muffled sound of surprise and brought your hands to his chest, trying to push him away. In response, he snaked his hand around your head to grasp your hair, holding you still as he moaned quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled against your lips. You let out another startled sound when he suddenly threw you off of him so you were laying on your back on the couch. Before you could move away, he was crawling over you, kissing you again as his hands roamed your body. 

“Emmett-” You tried to say as you continued pushing his chest, but he was too strong. “Stop!” 

“I know.” He panted before snaking his hand down your stomach all the way to the apex of your thighs. He slipped under your dress easily and roughly cupped your sex, making you whimper. 

“Emmett, please stop.” 

“I will. I will— I just need this. I haven’t been with a woman in so long…” He whispered. “I promise I’ll be fast.” 

“Please don’t,” You whimpered, already feeling tears brimming in your eyes. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” His hand suddenly left your body to open his pants and free his cock, then he was pulling your panties to the side and lining up. 

“Please! I- I’m a..” You sobbed, trying anything to get this to stop. 

“I’ll be gentle.” He promised, then faltered and added, “At least… I’ll try to be.” When you felt the head of his cock drag through your folds, your body went completely rigid. 

“Please! Emmett, please don’t,” You cried, still trying to push him away. 

“Shh…” The blunt head of his cock was against your entrance now, pushing as hard as possible, trying to fit inside you. When he finally breached your opening, his hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your shrill scream. “Oh— fuck… I'm not gonna last.” He moaned loudly, letting his head drop down for a moment. The tears in your eyes were finally falling and you sobbed almost violently behind his hand. Your crying only got worse though when he continued pushing in. 

“Almost there.” He whispered and you let out an anguished sob in response. It felt like you were being ripped open as he continued pushing deeper, a lot farther than what you could comfortably take. “Good girl… Just a little more.” Your body was trembling from the pain and you started clawing at him, trying anything to get this to stop. But he was undeterred. When he finally bottomed out, he let out a low groan that was overshadowed by your cry of pain. 

“I know… I’m sorry. Fuck, you feel so good. Just like how she felt.” He whispered. “I think she’d be happy that it’s you.” He gave you a small smile, then slowly pulled out until only the tip was inside before forcing it back in. 

“Please!” You cried, the word coming out muffled from behind his hand. 

“God- your cunt is so good.” He groaned, picking up the pace, making you cry harder. 

“Stop! Please…” You whimpered brokenly. 

“I know, baby. I’m almost done, I promise.” He said breathily. You tried kicking your legs, thrashing under him, pushing him away, but he was too strong. “Just a little longer, you’re doing so good.” He removed his hand, but before you could scream, he was kissing you again. This time, he shoved his tongue passed your parted lips, licking into your mouth in a desperate, almost feral manner. That, along with the fact that you couldn’t focus on this kiss because of how hard you were crying, made it incredibly messy and sloppy and wet. 

He snapped his hips into you, chasing his orgasm as he kissed you like he’d never be able to kiss anyone ever again, making it feel like you could barely breathe. Mostly because of the kiss, but also because of how overwhelming the pain of the stretch was. He continued kissing you and his facial hair felt scratchy against face, only furthering your discomfort. 

“I’m close.” He whispered against your lips. At least it was almost over. “I haven’t filled up a cunt in over a year.” He practically growled, making you stiffen again. 

“N-no… Emmett, please don’t. Please pull out.” You begged desperately, trying to speak coherently through all of the crying. 

“I thought you said I deserve this? That I deserve to finally be happy after everything.” He frowned, making you falter. 

“I didn’t mean… this.” You choked out, not sure what else to say. 

“I know…” He said quietly, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll try to pull out.” 

“Emmett, please. You have to,” He leaned down and cut you off with another kiss as his thrusts became even rougher. 

“You’re such a good girl…” He murmured against your lips, breathing heavily as he neared his release. “So good. I’m gonna make you mine. I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of her. But we’ll be safe this time...” You shook your head, unable to do anything else. “No monsters, no illness— It’s gonna be perfect. We’ll even have some boys, yeah?”

“No,” You sobbed, quickly feeling defeated. You couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried. “Please, Emmett… I just turned 18, I- I can’t…” He moaned quietly when you said that. 

“Shh. Yes you can. I’ll help you, baby, we’ll do it together.” You shook your head in disagreement as you continued to cry. “Fuck,” He choked out, eyes closing again. “Ready?” 

“No— no, Emmett… please. Please pull out!” You yelled, making him curse under his breath. With one final groan, he forced his cock all the way in, pushing up against your cervix uncomfortably. 

“Oh, good girl.” He moaned, lazily rutting into you as he rode out his high. “So fucking good. So tight… milking every fucking drop.” He said proudly, making you cry harder at the verbal reminder that he just came inside you. 

“Emmett…” You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch inside you. 

“Thank you.” He said through a breath. “Thank you so much.” He almost sounded like he was about to cry in relief and that made you falter. This man has been alone for weeks, just haunted by the memories of his family with no real outlet or source of comfort. So when someone finally offered him some… he jumped at the chance immediately. You probably would’ve done the same, had you lost your entire family. 

“And I meant what I said. I’m going to keep you safe this time, I promise.” He said quietly, reaching down to feel where his cock was bulging your stomach— where a baby would be growing soon enough. “All of you.” 

[bueckersstuff]

REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1 & 2

Chapter 3: Forgotten Faces, Remembered Pain

Paige's POV

I grew up here in Minnesota, living what seemed like a perfect life until I left for college in Connecticut three years ago. Good family, solid school, a career I was proud of, the best friends anyone could ask for. I had everything I could have dreamed of. Or at least, I thought I did. But then, a certain someone walked back into my life, and now I realized—time doesn’t heal anything. You just get used to carrying the weight of what hurts for a lot longer than you should.

It all started when I was twelve, discovering my love for basketball. My dad used to bring me to this basketball court just down the street to practice, sometimes for hours. We’d always end up at the local convenience store, grabbing snacks—he’d stock up on chips while I picked out ice cream. I still remember that day. I grabbed my usual chocolate ice cream, lined up to pay, and that’s when I heard it.

"No! What you gave me is a dollar short! I can count!" A girl’s voice, sharp with frustration, cutting through the air. I turned, half expecting some kind of mistake, but she was standing there, arguing with the cashier, insisting on the right change.

I couldn’t help it—my eyes met hers, and she shoved the receipt into my face, her little face demanding validation.

"You know math? Tell me I’m right, and she’s wrong."

I had to laugh. I looked at the cashier, then back at her. "Yeah, you’re right." Though I was laughing, I actually glanced at the receipt and she was, indeed, right.

She flashed that cocky grin of hers, so smug. "See? Told you I’m right."

That was just the beginning.

She started following me around, asking questions, poking into my life, telling me she had no friends, she was bored all the time. I didn’t even know why I let her in, but I did. So, I told her, "If you want to waste time, you can come watch me practice. You live around here, right?" She had mentioned earlier that she lives nearby.

"Yeah, that works," she replied, smirking. "I can waste time and practice my math by counting your scores. That is, if you can score."

That was her way of challenging me.

Five years. Five years we spent inseparable, like we couldn’t exist without each other. And then, the world broke apart.

One day, she came to practice with bloodshot eyes, her face red and blotchy from crying. Before I could even ask, she blurted out, her voice cracking:

"I’m leaving Minnesota. Mom says it’s for work, and we’ll be back sooner than I think."

She started sobbing uncontrollably. "I don’t want to leave. I can’t leave you here alone."

I was speechless. My world was spinning, and I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

"If that’s what the adults want, there’s nothing we can do about it, right?" I muttered, trying to ease the tension. "We can still talk on video calls, and you’ll be back before you know it."

But what about what I wanted?

"No!" she screamed. "If I leave, you’ll forget about me. You’ll find new friends!"

I could hear the panic in her voice, and it drove a sharp pain into my chest. "I won’t. I promise. It’s just us two, forever and ever."

And then she was gone.

For two years, we kept in touch, but as soon as I moved to Connecticut for college, things started to unravel. The calls grew less frequent, the arguments more intense. Silence followed, suffocating silence. No texts, no calls. Just emptiness.

I thought she was living her best life—at least, that’s what her social media told me. She seemed happy, thriving. But where did that leave me? Did "forever and ever" mean nothing? Was I just another part of her past, fading away?

I moved on, or so I told myself. I threw myself into my studies, my career. But still, there were nights when I found myself searching for her name, staring at her photos, wondering what had happened. Longing. Disappointment. Anger. Then confusion. Why was I still so obsessed? She left me all alone, even when I needed her the most. When I suffered an injury while playing my sport, I thought she’d be there for me, but I was wrong. I admit, I reached out to her, sending messages here and there—but maybe that was just my vulnerability talking. In the end, it didn’t matter. The lowest point of my life wasn’t even worth her time.

And then, there she was. Standing in front of me. But she was... different. Not in a good way. Something about her seemed so out of place. Her whole aura had changed. What happened to her?

It’s been a week since that first encounter, and I’m running errands for Drew. I roll my eyes—he’s got the audacity to ask me to get ice cream for him. As I’m perusing the different flavors, out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

Steve.

The shock is immediate, but the look on his face is worse. He’s more stunned than I am. But why is that? Am I not supposed to see him anymore?

"Paige? Long time no see! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Connecticut?"

My heart skips a beat. He keeps tabs on me?

"I’m on a break. Gonna head back tomorrow though, classes start soon. It’s good to see you again, Steve." I try to sound calm, but it’s hard when my mind is still reeling. "How’s Emma?"

His face contorts, and I see a flicker of pain—something I haven’t seen before, and it sends a sharp pang through me.

"Emma’s gone. Just three months ago."

The words crash into me like a wrecking ball. What? Emma’s dead?

I don’t know what to say. My mouth goes dry. "Oh my god. I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?"

"We’re fine now, I guess. But the last three months have been hell. Losing Emma... and then having my daughter almost..." He trails off, his voice cracking. "I’m just thankful my daughter got lucky."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"

"I came here with my daughter. You haven’t seen her yet?" he asks, and the words send a shiver through me.

Oh, I've seen her, but then she disappears again for the rest of the week.

"But maybe even if you did, she won’t remember you," he adds, his voice tinged with sadness.

I freeze. What?

"She’s suffering from a temporary memory loss from the accident, Paige."

She forgot me? She forgot about us?

The ice cream Steve is holding shakes slightly in his hands, and I suddenly realize I’m staring at it. "Is that for her? That’s her favorite."

"Yeah. I’m hoping it’ll help her remember, you know?" Steve’s voice breaks, and it feels like the weight of everything is pressing in on me.

I don’t know why I say it, but it spills out before I can stop myself.

"I want to help. Make her remember."

I must be crazy.

He looks at me, surprised but grateful. "You would? That means a lot to me, Paige."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes a little distant, before continuing. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while now—about sending her back to school. The doctors think getting back into a routine could help her. They said it might spark something, help her remember what she loved." He exhales, his voice wavering slightly. "I’ve been struggling with whether or not it's the right time, but... I think it might be the only way."

I barely hear him as my mind races. "She can attend to mine. Transfer her. She can join the swimming team. She still swims, right?"

Or maybe I'm just out of my fucking mind.

"Yes!" Steve’s face lights up. "That’s actually a great idea. I’ll start processing her papers next week."

She needs to remember. Because when she finally looks me in the eye and says sorry, it won’t be some empty apology. It’ll be real.

She’ll remember me. She has to.

Chapter 4 setting's gonna be at Uconn. More interactions and stuff!! <3

Taglist: @authentic-girl03 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @0phantom0 @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're in charge

You're there, the day that Mami hurts her knee.

She's running with you in her arms right after training and then all of a sudden, you're both on the ground. She's managed to roll so her weight doesn't crush you but only part way because your head bounces painfully on the grass.

You're slightly disorientated when you're pulled from Mami's arms by Mami's girlfriend Ingrid. You shake your head and then burst into tears when you notice all of the people around Mami.

You cry and cry and cry and force yourself under Ingrid's shirt so you can listen to her heartbeat at the same time as hiding yourself away from everything.

Mami spends a long time with the team doctor and you sob into Ingrid as she tries to look after you. She knows something bad though. You know that she knows what bad thing has happened to Mami but she just won't tell you.

You know she knows because she calls your Abuela and Abeulo and they never get called for anything that isn't serious.

Mami comes out on crutches and you cry even more.

"Hey," She coos to you," I'm okay. What are you crying about?"

"I hurted you!" You say through your tears," Hurted you real bad!"

"You didn't hurt me," Mami promises," I just had a little accident but that's alright. I'm going to have surgery and it's all going to be okay."

It doesn't sound like she'll be okay at all.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"We're just going to have to help Mami out for a bit," Ingrid says," We're going to have to look after her."

"Like you and Mami look after me?"

"Yes."

Mami ends up getting surgery within a few days. Ingrid's getting ready to fly to Sweden to play Rosengard but she manages to be there for Mami's surgery.

Abuela and Abuelo are there too.

"Mami," You say softly as you climb up onto her bed," Is it going to take long?" You speak quietly because Mami's Ingrid is sleeping, eyes closed like a Disney princess as she holds Mami's hand tight in her own.

"Probably about an hour," Mami replies," Why? Are you worried?"

You shake your head. "I'm being very brave," You say to her because that's what Ingrid told you you were being a few nights ago when she tucked you into bed.

"You are being brave," Mami agrees," My brave little lion cub."

You make your hands into claws. "Rawr!"

Mami does the same with a smile. "Rawr!"

"Hmm," Ingrid shifts in her sleep, blearily opening her eyes to study you both," Are you being lions again?"

"Rawr!" You say and she smiles.

"What a brave little lion cub," She says, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes," Is this lion cub hungry?"

You nod and she fishes some snacks out of her bag, slapping Mami's hands away when she tries to take some.

"No," Ingrid says sternly," You can't eat anything until after surgery. Here, cub, for you."

"Thank you, Ingrid." You lean over Mami to kiss Ingrid's cheek and then you say to Mami for good measure," You can't eat these because of your knee. It needs to be fixed first."

Mami's knee gets fixed and, when she comes home, she naps with Bagheera while you and Ingrid make lunch.

"Alright," Ingrid says that evening as she tucks you into bed," I've got a very special job for you."

Being tucked into bed was usually a job for Mami and Ingrid but Mami is still hurt so she gives you your kisses and bedtime snuggles in the living room before letting Ingrid take you to bed.

"I can do the special job."

"Well," Ingrid says, sitting against your pillows with you," I need to go away for a few days."

"To play Rosengard," You supply.

"Yes, to play Rosengard. And well I'm away, I'm going to need you to look after your Mami."

"I can look after Mami," You confirm, nodding.

"Very good." Ingrid tucks you in nice and tight, pulling your blankets up to your chin. "It's a very special job. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather ask to do it."

You smile. "Love you, Ingrid!"

"Love you too!"

With Ingrid gone the next day, it means that you're in charge and you tell Mami so when you stand in front of her with your arms crossed over your chest.

"You have to do what I say," You tell her," 'Cause you don't have a knee anymore and Ingrid put me in charge."

Mami laughs. "I still have a knee."

"Don't lie!" You say," Ingrid says I'm in charge and Ingrid's the boss!"

Mami laughs again. "That's right. Ingrid is the boss."

You nod. "And I'm the littler boss so you have to do what I say."

"Alright," She says," What are you telling me to do?"

You think for a moment. "You have to stay still," You say eventually," And look after your leg that doesn't have a knee. It needs lots of love to regrow your knee."

You nod decisively like you've just solved a global issue and clamber up to sit next to Mami. You pat her on the head and wave your finger in her face. "No moving. I get drinks!"

Most of your day is spent sitting with Mami watching movies and telling her off when she tries to move. Ingrid left you in charge and you tell Mami not to move so she's being bad when she tries to.

You tell her as much and it makes her sit back down.

You watch the match Ingrid is at together and celebrate when Barcelona win six goals to none.

"You have to stay still!" You say to Mami when she moves a bit too much in celebration. "You don't have a knee!" You lean down to her bandaged leg and give it a little kiss like she and Ingrid do to your cuts when you get hurt.

"Ingrid will be mad if you keep ignoring me!" You declare," You have to not move!"

"Okay, lion cub," Mami says. She drags a hand through your hair before cupping your face. "You're doing such a good job looking after me, thank you."

"You're welcome, Mami. Do we call Ingrid now?"

"We can call Ingrid."

Ingrid picks up on the second ring and her smiling face greets you and Mami.

"Hi, my girls," She says," Has Mami been good?"

"She keeps trying to move," You report," But I stopped her!"

"Very good, lion cub!" Ingrid says," I know you'd be the best for the job."

You beam at her and Mami brushes a hand through your hair softly.

"She's the very best," Mami says," My best girl."

"When are you coming home, Ingrid?" You ask," Mami can't tuck me into bed."

"I'll be home tomorrow," Ingrid promises you," I miss you both very much. Why don't you keep Mami company in our bed tonight? That way she doesn't need to tuck you in."

"Okay! I'll sleep with Mami in your bed!"

"In that case-" Mami pats you on the head and guides you to your feet "- Why don't you go and grab your pyjamas and get ready? We can have bedtime snuggles in my bed."

"Okay!" You scamper off down the hall before turning around again and pointing a finger at Mami. "Don't move! I have to help!"

"Okay, lion cub," Mami says," I won't move."

[bunnliix]

The Siren on the Stage - Felix x Reader

This is fufilling the wish of my dearest @hongthoven, and I hope you enjoy it my dear Crys. <3 <3 (Also, my first time writing skz smut, so I hope it's good!)

Pairing: Stripper!Felix x Reader Summary: You're out with your best friend for her bachelorette party, and one of the workers catches your eye. wc: 2.8k AU: Stripper!AU Genre: Fluff/Smut warnings: smut MDNI, alcohol mentions, mentions of pre-gaming, people being kinda drunk, strip clubs? duh, cursing, Felix being a menace, I think that's it, smut warnings: handjobs, lots of hickeys, nipple play, and I think that's it nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

This definitely wasn’t a place you would normally visit, but you were here with your best friend, Sofie, for her bachelorette party. The club itself was very well decorated, the atmosphere definitely made the place alluring, never mind the handsome men that worked here. As the party of women made their way to one of the smaller stages in the club, you knew it was the start to a long night. Reaching the seating area around the smaller stage, you all sat down, on the left side of your friend, while waiting for one of the strippers to appear.

“Are you excited to see what handsome man performs for us tonight?” One of the other bridesmaids asked Sofie.

“Of course, but I can’t be too excited.” Sofie replied.

“C’mon, it’s one of your last nights as a single woman, you have to let loose a little bit. It’s not like you’re going to have sex with one of the guys here.” Another bridesmaid spoke up, her words slurring slightly since she had been drinking before they left for the club.

Before anyone could say anything further, someone slunk out from behind the curtains and separated the stage, capturing everyone’s attention. His hair was shoulder length, and reflected the lights, so you almost couldn’t tell what his actual hair color was, but once he stepped into the stage lights, you could see that it was a platinum blonde, almost white, color. He had on an outfit that accentuated every part of him, though it covered more than you would think a stripper would cover.

Despite that, it only made him more attractive to see him more covered up. The sheer sleeve that left his shoulder and the upper part of his arm exposed, the little part of his chest left uncovered by the cut out in the tank top he was wearing, you just couldn’t pull your eyes away from his figure. Before you realized it, the lights on the stage had dimmed, and he had started to walk around the stage, his gait sultry as he made his way to the pole, making eye contact with all of you as he walked around, his hand lightly gripping the pole as he started his dance.

You were mesmerized by him, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from him, he was like a siren, drawing you in. Your fellow bridesmaids and your friend were also losing their minds over the stripper as well. They were cheering him on and screaming out to him, while you sat silently, observing his every move. He felt your eyes on him, and as he came out of a complicated move on the pole, he made eye contact with you, winking before you quickly averted your eyes.

It seemed that your bestie noticed, nudging you in the side. “He’s interested in you. Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.” She said to you, a little too loudly as the others looked your way, overhearing her words.

“I don’t think strippers take their clients home, nor do they fuck them.” You deadpanned, though internally, you wished he would. What you’d do to have one night with the man performing in front of you.

To your devastation, it wasn’t long before the male’s performance was over, and he strode over with a smile that lit up the world around him, seemingly the opposite of the siren he was during his performance, and it only made you want him more. You wanted to see more sides of this man who you saw for the first time not even half an hour ago.

“Are you ladies enjoying the show tonight?” He speaks to all of you, his eyes only flicking over to you once, making you pout internally.

“Oh we absolutely enjoyed it…” One of the others trailed off, obviously hoping that the man would give his name.

“Felix. It’s nice to meet you all.” He responded with his name, the charisma oozing from his every word and movement. It was almost like he was born to do this, to entertain.

“Felix, that’s such a pretty name.” A couple of the other women, at least one of whom you were sure was married, fawned over him, Though he didn’t really seem to pay them much, if any, attention. Instead, as the conversation went on, and you didn’t insert yourself into it, his eyes kept wandering over to you more and more.

He suddenly turned over to face towards your side of the seats, “You’ve been so quiet this entire time. Cat got your tongue?” He asked, becoming very cheeky.

“You were so entertained with the others, I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” You answered, keeping your response short.

“She was just jealous you weren’t paying attention to her!” Your best friend blurted out, as you winced.

“Oh, well don’t be too jealous. I’ll pay attention to you more now, so you won’t have to feel that way. We can even go somewhere more private if you want.” He said, moving closer to you as he did so, as you had to tilt your head up to look at him. He looked down at you, and you could see a mischievous, yet alluring look in his eyes, that only pulled you in more.

Your friend answered for you, once again. “She’d love that! She’s been staring at you all night.” Her answer caused you to look down, wanting to hide under a rock now that you���ve been exposed for your staring.

A delicate hand reached underneath your chin, tilting your head back up to meet Felix’s eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll have to fulfill your wish then, won’t I?” He said, looking down at you with those alluring siren-like eyes. All you could do was nod.

The blonde-haired man reached out for your hand, pulling you up to stand once he had grabbed a hold of one of your hands. He started walking away, tugging you behind him ever so gently, as another couple of men walked over to the bachelorette party to entertain them. He pulled you behind a curtain into a hallway, where you can see several other curtains hiding what you assumed were rooms behind them. You were proven correct when Felix pulled you into one of those rooms, making sure the curtains were pulled tightly. He led you to the couch that was situated towards the back of the room, guiding you to sit down as he stood in front of you.

Once again, a hand reached out to tilt your head upwards so that you were making eye contact once again. “Don’t look away from me darling. I want your gaze on me always, so keep watching me.” He tells you, a smirk appearing on his face.

You watched as he turned around, walking a short distance away from you before turning back around. He must have grabbed a remote in the room when you weren’t looking, as music started to play through the speakers in the room. He kept looking at you as he slowly slid his pants off to reveal that he was wearing shorts underneath, his gaze sultry and solely focused on you, like you were the only person in his world right now.

As he slowly strode back to you, you could see the sides of his shorts were mesh, allowing you just tiny peeks at the skin hidden by the material. You just stared at him until you heard him click his tongue. “I told you to keep looking at me, didn’t I?” You snapped your head back up to look at him, finding he was staring down at you with an eyebrow raised. 

Once he was sure you wouldn’t look away from him again, he moved right into your lap, shocking you. “I know you’ve been watching me since I walked out on that stage tonight, you couldn’t take your eyes off of me. Am I that mesmerizing?” He asked you, his voice deepening the longer he spoke. All you could do was nod, your voice seems to have disappeared.

“Cat got your tongue again, darling?” He questioned, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear your voice.

“N-no. I can speak perfectly fine.” You retorted, though it took effort to get the words out of your mouth. And you were glad that Felix hadn’t done his next actions while you were speaking. If he had wrapped his arms around you while you were talking, you would have choked. As it was, your eyes widened as he did so.

He chuckled, coming in closer to you, as you felt your cheeks heat up from the lack of distance. You felt unable to stare him in the eyes, so you averted your eyes, instead looking at his mouth. Noticing you staring at his lips, he intentionally licked them, making your struggle much harder. You really wished he would stop trying to kill you, you would like to live to see the sun tomorrow morning.

You felt his arm move, and suddenly fingers gripped your chin, stopping any attempts from you at moving your head. “Are my lips pretty, dear? Yours are beautiful too.” He said, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip, and you had to stop yourself from sucking his thumb into your mouth. You managed to hold yourself back, but Felix tilted your head up further, “I want to kiss you. Can I, darling?”

You only responded with a half-whispered, “Please.”

Felix leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you as your lips connected with his. His lips were soft, and despite his prior demeanor, he allowed you control, and you took it without thinking twice, your hand making its way up his back to rest on the back of the man’s neck. Using your hold on his neck, you kept him close as you took over the kiss, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip, being granted access almost instantly. The kiss seemed to go on forever, until Felix pulled away, as both of you needed air.

“Fuck darling, I might need you to kiss me forever if you kiss like that all the time.” He remarked after he got his breath back, his lips slightly swollen from kissing you, though they were such a pretty pink color you couldn’t help but stare at them instead of looking him in the eyes as you both recovered from that kiss.

Wrapping your with arm around his waist, and fuck he had a tiny waist, you pulled him just a tiny bit closer, but instead of going back for another kiss, your mouth attached to his neck, kissing and biting softly. The man didn’t expect it, and you didn’t expect the noises coming out of him as you attacked his neck and collarbone.

“F-Fuck, darling,” He said between heavy breaths, “please, more.”

You smirked into his neck, leaving darker and darker marks and hickeys where you were able to reach. You cursed his top as it left you limited amounts of skin to bite and kiss and suck on. As you moved from one side of his neck to the other, you took a moment to admire your work so far. It made you very satisfied to see how pretty he looked with hickeys covering his freckled skin.

After a couple minutes, you had finished your work on the other side of his neck, leaving him looking like he’d been mauled, but his face held a slightly dazed smile that showed that he enjoyed it.

“Are you good there, Felix?” You asked, slightly concerned despite the smile on his face.

“I’m just fine darling,” He replied, looking down at you. “I think you’ve covered a good amount of me in hickeys though.” He finished, chuckling.

You may have gotten a bit carried away, but when the pretty man reacted the way he did, could anyone blame you for carrying on? Before you could respond to him, he shocked you a bit by slowly pulling off the slightly intricate top he was wearing, leaving his chest entirely bare. Your eyes wandered the flawless skin that was hidden underneath his clothing, and found patterns and constellations of freckles that had been covered by his top. You found yourself tracing these patterns with your fingers, getting distracted before a cough pulled your focus away from his chest.

“Are my freckles that attention-grabbing, that you can’t help but focus only on them?” He teased you, as you looked down in slight embarrassment.

“I can’t help but look at every part of you because you’re pretty.” You mumbled out in response, still refusing to look at him.

You heard him chuckle from above you, before, for the millionth time it seemed, a hand lifted your head once again before he asked you, “Are you not going to finish what you started, love?”

Somehow you’re emboldened by his words, because you needed him to stop flustering you, and you push him down on the seat next to you on this couch, clambering on top of him and straddling his thighs. You don’t leave him any time to speak as you lean down, starting to leave a trail of kisses and bites on his collarbone and down his chest, peeking up to see that the man was staring at you, his eyes blown wide and focused solely on you and your actions. You felt his bulge slightly poking against your stomach, and smirked against his skin before pulling away and asking him, “Is someone a little excited?”

Felix’s face flushed, but his eyes never left yours as he nodded. You didn’t expect him to be so submissive, but honestly, it was adorable and the exact opposite of his stage persona.

“Do you want me to take care of it?” You questioned, to which you got an unexpectedly fast nod to. “I need words, Felix dear.”

“Please, darling,” He pleaded.

“Your wish is my command,” You said as you resumed your prior actions, biting and nipping at his chest as a hand snaked down under his shorts, surprised to find that he wore nothing underneath them. You wrapped your hand around his length, using the precum leaking out of the tip to make it easier to stroke him. You started out slow as you continued to nip and kiss at his chest, not wanting to rush, but the small thrusts of his hips made taking it slowly next to impossible.

“Please, darling. I need more,” he begged you.

You sped up the pace of your strokes, while you moved your mouth to his right nipple, lightly biting down as he arched up into you, a whimper falling out of his mouth.

“Darling please, I’m getting close, please I need more,” he said through moans, as he watched you though lust-filled eyes.

You continued your ministrations to his cock and his nipples, relishing in the sounds that he was making as you pleasured him. Every couple of strokes, you’d tease the tip of his cock, and every time you did, it brought him closer to his release.

“Darling, please, I’m so fucking close. Just a little more,” He told you, groaning as your grip got just the tiniest bit tighter. It was only a couple more strokes before Felix came on your hand, and in his shorts. As he did, you kept softly stroking him through his orgasm, as you pulled your mouth away from his nipples and finally observed your work. The Australian man looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes blown wide and his chest and torso were covered in marks from you, but fuck he looked amazing like that.

“I didn’t think you would be like this darling, but I can’t find myself regretting any of this.” Felix told you after a couple of moments, needing a small amount of time to get his brain working again, as well as to get his breath back.

“I didn’t think my night would end up like this, but I don’t regret it either. And it’s all because you were like a siren on that stage, drawing me to my death. Though in this case, I think my death is quite amazing.” You laughed as you moved off of him, letting him sit up. Though instead of staying upright, he pushed you over so the two of you laid down with him on top of you.

“Let’s stay here for a little while. No one will know I’m missing,” he said, trying to convince you and completely forgetting he was technically pinning you to the couch/seats.

“Well since you’re laying on top of me, I can’t really say no, can I?” You replied, your question being completely rhetorical.

“No you can’t.” He said, not wasting any words. And that is how you two spent the next couple of hours, until you were found by one of Felix’s coworkers.

“Really, Felix? I’m never going to be able to use this room again now that you’ve been fucked in here.” Hyunjin complained.

“Fuck off, Hyunjin.”

Taglist: @callmeghostly @bethelighthalazia @rems-writing (since y'all are thirsty for Stripper Felix)

[scarletwinterxx]

good graces - hong joshua imagine

who else was smiling the entire time while watching Joshua bake cookies??? 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️ istg i cant stop smiling whenever i see him, especially when i see happy joshua🥺

so now we're here😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

It’s a rare occasion for you to be out and about after 7pm. You’re a homebody through and through, you like being at home and when the circumstances calls for it the latest you can stay out is 10pm. 

Joshua knows this so when you told him you were going out with your best friend, who also happens to be his best friend's fiance, he just told you to have fun and call him when he needs to come and pick you up. 

He’s the supportive type of boyfriend. Want to start a new hobby? He’ll be right beside you to join along. Want to stay at home all weekend? He’ll come and bring snacks. Want to wear something different for your date night? He’ll help you choose. He doesn’t care what type of clothes you want to wear, he’ll always say you look good in everything. If it’s cute, sexy, anything in between. Doesn’t matter if guys look your way, he can fight anyways. 

It’s been a couple hours since you left, the last text you sent him was an hour ago. A selfie with your best friend in the bathroom and a short message saying you’re kind of drunk now and he should come in an hour to pick you up. 

Now, an hour later he’s walking towards the bar you were at. He’s been waiting at the parking lot since you sent that picture, Seungcheol was also there waiting for his fiance.

He walks in right behind Seungcheol, the two of them quickly spotting their partners. Before he can come to you though, your best friend blocks him

“YAH HONG JOSHUA” 

“Hello to you too” Joshua laughs, clearly the two of you had fun tonight. Meanwhile Seunghceol stands on the side, watching the fun that’s about to unfold. 

“You better not make Y/N cry or else you have me to deal with, and Seungcheol but you should be scared of me mostly” she threatens Joshua, the two guys smiling. 

“I’ll make sure to stay in your good graces” he says. It’s nice to know you have a loyal friend who will pick your side no matter what, Joshua’s glad to know you have someone like that just like how his best friend's are to him. 

“Wouldn’t even dare to let one tear fall from her pretty eyes” Joshua adds, laying a hand on his chest

“Damn right, do you know how lucky you are huh? How many guys she rejected before you came. She won’t even glance their way, she would literally send them daggers through her stare” your bestfriend tells him. Poking his chest to put emphasis on her words.

And she’s speaking only facts. Before Joshua, you wouldn’t even give anyone a chance. There was a permanent scowl etched on your face whenever a guy even dares to come close. Even Cheol was intimidated by you when he first met you. But to Joshua  it’s kind of hard to believe when you never looked at him any other way than with loving eyes. 

Right from the very start, the moment you met you were smiling at him. The very reason he knew he was in deep with you. It was like a movie slowmo moment when you first smiled at him, he saw his whole future with you flash before his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m one lucky guy” he breathes out, looking at where you were sitting

“Yeah you are, now go get your girl!” she pushes him towards you, completely oblivious to what was happening since you’re pretty drunk now. 

Seungcheol pats his bestiriend on the back while getting his fiance’s purse on the table, “I’ll take care of this one. We’ll go wait for you outside” 

Joshua nods, waving a quick bye to the couple before turning his attention to you. 

“Hey, baby. You had fun?”

“Shuji??? Oh my gosh you’re hereeee” you squeal, standing up from your seat to tackle him with a hug which he gladly returns. Smiling at the nickname you love calling him

“I missed you” he mumbles in your ear, earning a giggle from you

“Noooo, I missed you more. Did you read my mind, is that why you’re here?”

You clearly had too many drinks tonight, you always get so chatty when you had a drink or two. Joshua finds that habit cute. He gives your cheeks a pinch before getting your purse from you and slinging it on him, one arm around you to steady you. 

“Mhm, knew you needed me so here I am” he answers your question as he guides you towards the entrance. Making a quick stop by the bar to pay for your drinks tonight, he takes out his card and quickly pays before walking outside. 

His car is parked right beside Seungcheol’s. The other couple are still there waiting for the two of you. 

“See you made it out alive, these two definitely had fun” Cheol says, looking at his fiance who is now passed out on the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, well we should head home. You guys get home safe”

“You too, see you”

The two guys get in their cars and drive away. 

Joshua looks over the passenger seat, you have your eyes closed while your hands were clutching his’. Even in your sleep you won’t let go of him. 

Another drunk habit of yours. You also tend to be more clingy when you’re drunk and somehow even in this state you can always tell it’s your boyfriend’s hand you’re holding and not someone else’s. 

When the two of you arrive at his place, he parks the car before getting out first to help you. He unbuckles your seatbelt before putting one arm under your knees and the other behind your back to carry you inside. He carefully makes his way inside, helps you on the bed before getting a change of clothes for you and him, and also gets your make-up wipes from the bathroom. 

He quickly changes his clothes so he can help you and when he’s done, he goes back outside the bedroom to get you water and medicine for later. 

After all of that he gets under the covers beside you. Instantly you scout over his side, laying your head on his chest. 

“Hey baby, thank you” He hears you mumble, eyes still closed

“For what, my darling?”

“Just… everything” you felt his lips on top of your head before he speaks again

“That’s what I’m here for, my love. I’m glad you had fun tonight”

“We should go on a date tomorrow” your words were slurring now, he knows the exhuastion and sleepiness will soon take over but you’re fighting it so you can talk to him. His hand on your back drawing random patterns is making you more sleepy.

“Sure thing, let’s go to that pottery store that just opened. But for now you need to sleep, baby”

“But I want to talk to you, I missed you” he can picture the pout you have on right now, feeling you tuck yourself closer to him. Your head under his chin and your hand splayed across his chest

“I’m gonna be right here when you open your eyes, we can continue this talk tomorrow. For now let’s sleep, mhm? I’m not going anywhere I promise?”

“Promise you’ll be here?”

He chuckles, hugging you even closer until there’s not an inch of space between your bodies. “Promise I’ll say with you, forever and ever”

“Sounds good, goodnight” you yawn then it was quiet for a few seconds. He can feel you relax in his arms, finally drifting off to sleep. 

He gives you a kiss on the head one last time before he closes his eyes, but not before he tells you a quick “Goodnight to you too, my darling. I love you”

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter seven, how many things?)

‘Remember when you left once, that never made too much sense to me, well, it hurt you so bad, hurting me, you really came to me for sympathy, I consider you, I'm not trying to, it doesn't matter whether not I want to, I can't help it, it's a habit, your corner in my mind is well established. I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me.’

summary; the last thing you wanted was to see spencer at a bar, let alone talk to him, but the hopes of getting some sort of answer keeps you in place when he asks you to talk.

warnings; arguments, mentions of ghosting, mentions of drinking!! big emotions guys, crying, reader is a little mean, as she should be, shes an icon i love you, this whole argument will continue into the next chapter thank you i love you. genuine question how would we feel about another chapter today

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules s @ameerakane20 @lucere @cultish-corner @psyches-reid

You never expected to see him again. Not after the way things ended—if you could even call it an ending. A conversation, a few moments of vulnerability, then silence. The ghosting had been sudden, sharp like a slap you weren’t expecting. You never did well with the idea of opening up to someone, but with Spencer, you let your guard slip just enough for him to see something beneath the surface. And he promised. He promised not to hurt you.

But he had.

Now, it’s been a month since you last heard from him. A month of wondering what went wrong, a month of overanalyzing every word you exchanged, trying to figure out if it was something you said. You were doing well before you met Spencer—solid, independent, and self-assured, despite your reservations about letting anyone get too close. Then he came along, charming in that awkward, intellectual way of his. He made you believe, just for a moment, that maybe it was okay to hope for something more.

Then he vanished.

The last time you saw him was a couple of weeks ago at a movie theater, and that encounter had been enough to twist the knife he left in you. The tension between you both was palpable, a thin thread that could snap at any moment. You left that night feeling hollow, frustrated at the lack of answers, and confused by his refusal to acknowledge the way things had ended.

Now, you’re here, sitting in a dimly lit bar across from Penelope, a new friend who has become one of the few people you trust these days. Penelope was fun, always light-hearted and full of life, and tonight was supposed to be about anything but Spencer. You needed this—needed to escape the weight of it all, even if just for a few hours.

You take a sip of your drink, laughing at something Penelope says, when you feel it. That familiar prickle along the back of your neck that tells you someone’s watching you. You glance over your shoulder, and there he is.

Spencer.

Of course, he’s here. Of all the bars in the city, of all the nights you could’ve decided to go out, he had to be here tonight. Your heart clenches in your chest, a mixture of anger and something you don’t want to admit still lingers between you.

His eyes meet yours, and there’s something in them—regret, maybe? You look away quickly, turning back to Penelope, trying to ignore the rapid beating of your heart. But you can feel him moving closer. You knew it would happen eventually, didn’t you? You knew he couldn’t avoid you forever.

Penelope’s eyes follow yours, and her expression shifts. “Do you want to leave?” she asks softly, but you shake your head. No. You’re not running this time. Not again.

Spencer stands just a few feet away now, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot like he doesn’t quite know how to approach. It’s not like he can just walk up to you and pretend everything’s fine. You wish you could muster the strength to ignore him, to just let him stand there in his discomfort, but part of you needs something from him. An answer, an explanation—anything.

“Can we talk?” His voice is low, hesitant.

You meet his gaze, and the flash of guilt in his eyes makes you swallow hard. It’s unfair, you think, that he can still make you feel this way—torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting to understand.

You push your chair back, standing up. “Fine. Let’s talk.” Maybe it was the need for something resembling a clear answer. Maybe it was the hopes you’d get one.

Maybe it was purely that you hated yourself and needed to further those feelings by indulging in this.

The air between you is thick as you follow him to a quieter corner of the bar. Penelope gives you an encouraging nod before you leave, and you appreciate it, though her presence now feels far away. All you can focus on is the man in front of you, the man who has left you wondering, hurting, and so damn confused. Everything around you is a bit of a fog as you grow light headed.

Spencer doesn’t sit, and neither do you. Instead, you stand there, arms crossed tightly across your chest, waiting for him to say something. Anything. The air is full, suffocatingly full of his scent and the feeling of his lips brushing over your hair, the memories of him, of you, of what he did — or didn’t do, being shoved down your throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

You scoff. “That’s it? You’re sorry? I don’t care.”

He looks down at his feet, running a hand through his hair nervously. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I—things got complicated and I just… I don’t know how to explain everything.”

“So you just don’t explain at all?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but you don’t care. You’re tired of feeling like the one who has to keep it together, tired of the constant guessing.

He takes a deep breath, looking up at you with an expression that almost makes you falter. Almost. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” You take a step closer, your eyes narrowing. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you just didn’t care enough to give me an explanation. You left, Spencer. You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I did care. I do care,” he says, almost too quickly, and the desperation in his voice catches you off guard.

“Then why?” you ask, your voice quieter now, the anger giving way to the hurt you’ve been trying to keep buried, almost like a plea “Why- Why. Why couldn’t you just talk to me? Why couldn’t you have just been honest?” Now it was a plea, you needed something from him, anything, something to pick yourself apart for as a reason to his absence.

He hesitates, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again. His silence is answer enough, and it makes your heart sink even further.

“Is it that difficult for you to be honest?” You huffed, the anger bubbling in your chest and maybe you’d feel guilty and mindful, if you didn’t feel so hurt.

“I—” he begins, but you cut him off.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize if you’re not going to tell me why, Spencer. You owe me that much.”

He looks torn, like he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to. His silence stretches on, and you feel your frustration boiling over.

“This is exactly what I mean,” you say, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “You keep apologizing, but you won’t actually explain anything! I’ve spent the last month wondering what the hell I did wrong. You promised you wouldn’t hurt me, and then you just… disappeared.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, his voice barely audible.

“But you did,” you reply, your throat tightening as the emotion you’ve been holding back for weeks finally threatens to spill over. “You left me hanging, Spencer. You made me believe that maybe I could trust you, and then you did exactly what you promised you wouldn’t.”

You can see the guilt etched across his face, but it’s not enough. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and it feels like a punch to the gut because it’s still not the answer you need. He’s not giving you what you deserve. He’s not giving you anything

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. “This is useless.” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper.

You turn away from him, your feet moving before you even fully register it. You need to get out of here, need to escape before the tears break free and you completely unravel in front of him.

“Wait—” he calls after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t. You push through the crowded bar, ignoring the curious glances from strangers and the concerned look Penelope throws your way as you pass her. You just need to get outside, to breathe.

The cool night air hits your face as you step out onto the street, and the dam finally breaks. Tears spill down your cheeks, hot and relentless, and you hate yourself for it. You hate that he still has this effect on you, that he can still make you feel this vulnerable. You lean against the side of the building, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if you could somehow hold yourself together through sheer will alone. But it’s too late. The cracks are already there.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to let someone in like this only for them to break you down again. You’d been so careful for so long, so guarded, and then Spencer came along and promised he wouldn’t hurt you. And you believed him. But promises are just words, aren’t they? Words that can be broken as easily as they’re spoken.

The door to the bar swings open, and you know without looking that it’s him. You hear his footsteps approach, but you don’t turn around.“I’m sorry,” he says again, his voice so close now. “I know that’s not enough, and im sorry I can’t give you the answer you want, but I’m sorry- I want you to know I am so sorry.”

You laugh bitterly through your tears, shaking your head. “That’s the problem, Spencer. I don’t need you to be sorry— I couldn’t give a fuck less if you’re sorry. Im asking you why.”

He stands there, silent, and you can feel his presence behind you, but he doesn’t try to touch you. He doesn’t try to comfort you, and you’re glad because you’re not sure you could handle it if he did. His touch is like a faint memory now, sometimes when you turned the heat of the shower up just enough, for a split second it felt the same as his body against yours, that was the closest you had gotten to any sort of comfort, any sort of warmth.

“I thought you were different,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him. It was stupid of you. To have believed that, to still want to believe that. You wanted to understand, you wanted him to be honest, to keep the promises he made, like you trusted he would.

“I am different,” he says, his voice filled with a kind of sadness that makes your chest ache, like a plea. You wanted to believe him, you wanted this to be easy. You wanted to feel like this was the same person you had spent the last six months slowly falling in love with. In a way you knew he was the same, despite his broken promises and the hurt he inflicted onto you, the look in his eye was the same.

You shake your head again, finally turning to face him. “Not enough,” you whisper.

[peterm4rker]

¿dónde está la biblioteca? || z.cl

twenty four. are you shitting me? (written)

🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 1.4k w. curse words! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

you hoped whoever princess was had a shitty day.

it was nothing against her, really (yes it was). but mostly against the fact that the simple knowledge of her existence had ruined the last few days of your life.

after realising that there was no way that chenle had anyone but a girl named like that on his phone, you had spent the last two days dragging about in your apartment, bored out of your mind and a tiny bit sad.

you have grown accustomed to chenle’s presence in your life. his texts, his twitter interactions, the hours upon hours he spent inside of your head. so now that you had decided to take your time and distance from him, everything was oddly quiet. you spent the first two days simply moping around, watching straight seasons of new girl and eating away your feelings with cookie dough ice cream, which oddly enough, you had never liked that much until it began to remind you of chenle.

it was day three on the “forgetting about my feelings for chenle and going back to being best friends with him” agenda, and the outro to the last episode of new girl played on your computer screen. you stared at it with a blank face and teary eyes, feeling hollow once again as there was nothing to fixate on to make you feel better.

as you picked up your phone to call sunwoo and cry to him about everything but chenle (he vetoed his name for the next week), you found your own teary eyed reflection and it was nothing more than pathetic.

since when did you let yourself cry over boys and mope around for days on end?

absolutely not.

you turned off your phone and got out of bed, grabbing a towel and heading straight to the shower. music blared through the alexa on the counter as you let water wash the negativity away, allowing a smile onto your face. you picked a cute outfit and grabbed your bag, putting one airpod on before leaving your house and jumping into ludovica.

the drive to the coffee shop was pretty long, but it didn't bother you. that was what you needed, fresh air and some sun.

you parked your car and happily got out of it, making sure to greet the workers as you approached the counter and ordered your favourite drink and a pastry. once the order was placed you walked to a nearby table, pulling out your computer and your notebook, deciding to get some work done.

the music playing through your headphones drowned out any other thought that could have crossed your mind. the melody tingling your brain and the lyrics sinking into your skin as you tried your hardest to write your report on one of your biggest musical inspirations. 

right then and there, everything seemed to fall into place. the coffee was exactly as you liked it, the pastry was beautifully done and the words seemed to just flow out of you. 

you didn't need chenle. you didn't need anyone.

but of course, if being run over and stranded at an airport had taught you anything, was that these feelings normally didn't last for you. and still, you were a little surprised as you felt a tap on your shoulders, raising your head only to be met by none other than hong seunghan.

he smiled brightly at you, the corner of his eyes brimming with joy as he waved. you took your headphones off quickly, trying to match his smile and hide your surprise. “hey, seunghan!” you greeted happily.

“hey ynnie, what are you doing here? i don't think I’ve seen you here before” he says, but he has, because you used to go to that exact coffee shop whenever you thought he would be there. 

“just getting some work done, you?” you answered.

“I was supposed to meet maru but she couldn't make it” he shrugged, looking at the chair in front of you “is this seat taken?”

“oh, no, go ahead” you nudged towards the chair, allowing him to sit with you. 

a few months ago, hell, even weeks, you would've been elated to be sitting with seunghan out of all people. but as you saw him sit and give you that astonishing smile of his, there was nothing.

because it wasn't his smile that made your stomach erupt into butterflies anymore.

★🎧⋆｡ °⋆

conversation easily flowed between you, making you set your work aside completely to focus your attention on him.

“can i tell you something a little embarrassing? i'm only comfortable saying this now because i’m madly in love with my girlfriend” he asked as he calmed down from a fit of laughter you had very proudly caused.

“yeah, of course” you smiled reassuringly, suddenly curious at what his next words would be.

“i used to have a huge crush on you but i was too scared to say anything” he admitted bashfully. your jaw fell open for a couple seconds, before erupting into laughter and hiding your face in your hands “hey! don't laugh at me!” he exclaimed with a soft laugh.

“i'm not laughing at you! its just” you cut yourself off and took your hands away from your face, looking at him once again “i had a massive crush on you for about two years” 

“you're shitting me right now” he deadpanned, and you shook your head as a chuckle escaped your lips. “i was scared for nothing!?” 

“yup, i would've given you everything i've ever owned if i knew” you chuckled.

“thats crazy… When did you stop liking me?” he asked curiously, and you pursed your lips a bit awkwardly.

“maybe around a month ago?” you said, doubt making your voice high pitched. his jaw fell open once again.

“that little ago?” you nodded, sheepish smile still on your lips “then… i'm guessing chenle happened?”

you nodded once again.

“well then, I'm happy it worked out for the both of us” he chuckled as he sipped his drink again.

“i wouldn't say it has worked out for me” you commented, stirring the liquid of your second cup of coffee of the day.

“how so?” he asked, curious once again. who would’ve thought he liked chisme so much?

“well, chenle has no idea i like him and also has a girl, so” you pursed your lips once again.

“huh? chenle doesnt have a girl” seunghan replied, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“he doesn't?” your eyebrows moved to match his, his confusion contagious.

“nah, he is pretty bitchless” the way he said it made you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“then who is princess?” you asked. you didn't know why you were having this conversation with seunghan out of all people, but if it was giving you good information then it was totally worth it.

“princess?” he thought about it for a second, his furrowed eyebrows falling into a deadpan as he seemed to remember “thats literally jaemin”

“wait, what?” you asked, even more confused than before.

“that's how he has him saved, with a little bow, right?” right.

you had never felt so stupid in your life.

you just had spent two days moping around your room for nothing.

you had spent two days ignoring chenle for nothing.

“i might end it all” you groaned and let your head fall into the crook of your arms, resting on top of the table. seunghan let out a loud laugh.

“no way you thought he had a girlfriend” he laughed “its so obvious that he's–” he cut himself off suddenly, making you look up at him

“hes what?”

“nothing, forget it” he dismissed it. he wasn't going to rat out his boy like that. “i can help you”

“help me with what?” you sat up once again, feeling defeated by your own dumbness.

“chenle, i know him very well, and i think i can help you confess” he said, decided smile adorning his pretty face.

“you really think so?” you asked, a tiny bit of doubt in your voice.

“of course, i'll need some help but i definitely can” he nodded, convincingly.

“then let's do it.”

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★ blue's corner ;; SEUNGHAN IS BACK I REPEAT MY MAN IS BACK !!!!!! sooo incredibly grateful that i chose him as the crush because i can post this chapter and introduce their beautiful friendship the day after he was announced back !!!! ★ tag list ;; @yutarot @chenlesfavorite @fullsunbabe @taroddori @morkiee @jovialdelusionbouquet @winwintea @flaminghotyourmom @haechskiss @xuimhao @dudekiss3r @neozon3nha ★ back to the main masterlist ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any content !!

© peterm4rker, 2024

[thelov3lybookworm]

Can I ask somthing? You can totally ignore this if you're not comfortable!! Can you write somthing like reader has been SA'ed before and az or cass or Rhys(your choice who) doesn't know this and tries to take things to 3rd base but reader gets really uncomfortable and tells them what she's been through so the bat boy comforts her saying he'll wait however long he has to for her, holding her and then goes all angry psycho on the person who SA'ed her.

(I was SA'ed a few years ago and the 'date' is coming closer that's why I just need somthing to keep my mind distracted. Plzzzz ignore this if you aren't comfortable with it!! I totally understand!)

Finally Safe

Summary: Reader is the youngest of the Vanserra's, but like Lucien, is the daughter of Helion. She has a pretty dark past that she doesn't even want to think about, and so, no one other than she herself knows about it.

When her mate tries to take things further in their relationship, everything she has kept inside herself comes spilling out.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Hi my love! I am soo glad that you sent this ask, it makes me so happy (this one is the first fic request I've received! I also feel extremely honored that you chose me for writing such a sensitive topic).

Also, I'm soo sorry that you had to go through that! I've never had any experience with SA or anyone who went through it, so I'm not sure if I can write something that really captures the depth of the situation, but I did listen to a few SA stories and podcasts ('Rotten Mango' podcasts, if any of you wanted to know) and I'll try my best with this.

Also, I've had this story idea for like a year now since I finished reading acosf, so I'm going with Azriel for this one.

Aaand I tried to make it as long as possible, hope it what you wanted to read.

Hope you like it! Enjoy!

Tw: mentions of SA, not graphic torture scene under '•○●⛦●○•', none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Everywher her eyes went, there was darkness.

All she could hear, laughter, grunts and disgusting words spewed from equally disgusting mouths.

All she could smell was sweat, her own tears, and things she didn't want to think about.

All she could feel was the nauseating touches of a male she didn't know and the cool ground under her back.

All she could taste was the bile climbing up her throat.

She just wanted it to be over. She just wanted them to leave so she could curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep.

Why?

She kept asking herself.

Why me?

She would probably never get the answer to it. And even if she did, she'd never understand how someone could do something as horrible as this.

Then she started screaming. As she always did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n jerked up, her chest heaving. She sat up, scooting back towards the headboard and pressing herself against it, tugging the blankets to cover herself as her eyes frantically searched around for any sign of movement in her chambers.

Of course, there was no one, but the fear never went away. Probably never would.

Long moments went by as she tried to calm herself, telling herself that she was safe. That she wasn't in that dungeon anymore. That she was far from it, she was in Day Court.

Her actual father's domain, apparently.

Soon after Amarantha had trapped everyone Under the Mountain, her mother had broken the news to her. That she wasn't Beron's daughter, but Helion's. And then, secretly, over the decades, Helion and Y/n had started to spend more time together. Her father was guilty that he hadn't been there for her when she was a kid, and so the two of them tried to make up for the time they had lost.

Y/n shook her head, laying down again and deciding to atleast try to get some sleep. There was going to be an important meeting in a few hours, and all the High Lords were going to arrive for the meeting. For planning the course of the war against Hybern.

She needed all the sleep she could get as it would be very stressful and she was supposed to be present as her father's Second in Command.

Still, she could not sleep. Knowing she would not be able to sleep anytime soon, she finally stood and made her way to the washing chamber when the watery rays of sunlight filtered in through the window.

She scrubbed herself raw in scalding hot water in hopes of washing away all the phantom stickiness she still felt on her body. After that, she got dressed in a white and golden flowy gown, the colours of Day.

Being the second of command of Helion wasn't the only reason she wrote this colours.

It would also be making a statement. That she had chosen Day Court over Autumn Court.

Beron knew she wasn't his daughter. He also thought that she was picked up from a dumpster. That's what Lady of Autumn had told him.

When she was pregnant with Y/n, she had stayed away from Beron for months, and when she returned, she returned with a newborn, saying she found the baby on the side of a road near a dumping ground. Beron didn't care as long as he was not concerned in the child's upbringing.

After Feyre had ended Amarantha's reign, Y/n had left the Autumn Court, making the excuse that she wanted to settle somewhere else.

And that's how she had ended up in Day. She had tried her best to convince Helion not to do this, as it could put relations between the two courts in jeopardy, especially as Beron would see it as a sign of betrayal. But he didn't care.

Y/n just prayed to the cauldron that the meeting would go without anyone dying.

•○🌑○•

She stepped into the airy meeting area, her dress fluttering around her feet.

The guards outside had informed her that the High Lords from Dawn and Summer Court had arrived quite some time ago, and Night Court had just come just moments before she did.

All eyes went to her, and all the Lords' eyes lit with recognition. She just gave a then a polite smile, before grinning at Rhys, who grinned back and pulled her into a hug.

"She was a friend Under the Mountain." He told his Inner Circle, pulling back from her. She nodded at the members that were present before her eyes landed on an Illyrian standing near a doorway, his eyes alert and on the High Lords.

As if sensing her gaze, he glanced at her. And when he did, everything in the world stopped. At least for Y/n.

Snap.

Her body locked up, her eyes widening. She stared and stared at him. She vaguely heard her name being called, but she couldn't process it.

"Y/n?" Her father touched her arm and she jerked back, gasping. She looked up at him, her eyes frantic. He had a confused smile on his face. She took a deep breath, pulling an indifferent mask on.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You look alarmed." She swallowed, glancing at the winged male to see if he had felt it too. By the confusion lacing his featured, he hadn't. She tried not to let her disapointment show.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Her father nodded, unconvinced as he gave her a look that said we'll talk about this.

Then she felt a tap on her mental shields. She opened a pathway and let Rhys in.

What is it? He questioned.

She thought for a moment before answering. Mate.

His eyes lit up and he smiled. That's amazing.

She nodded and walked to her seat, plopping down on it.

As everyone waited for others to arrive, Y/n couldn't help but keep glancing at the male.

Beautiful. He was beautiful.

As the meeting progressed, she kept chiming in with her suggesting but not really paying attention, completely avoiding looking at Beron. She also learned that the male's –her mate's– name was Azriel. She knew she had heard the name before, but couldn't place where.

But she would, soon enough.

•○🌑○•

"My dear, what happened back there?" Helion asked as soon as he and his daughter were alone.

She turned to him helplessly. "He–he was–is, my mate."

His brows furrowed. "Azriel?" When she nodded, a smile as bright as the Court he ruled over spread across his face. "You found your mate! You must tell him! Oh Mother, I'll hold a ball in your honor. I–"

"Dad. Who is he?" She would've called him father if not for his very pouty request that she call him dad. Father sounded too formal, according to him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. How could I forget! He's the Spymaster of the Night Court."

Her jaw dropped. "The feared Spymaster of Night Court?" He nodded happily. "Then should we not be scared? Doesn't he have... quite the reputation?"

"That he does, but from what I've gleaned from my centuries, he's a sweetheart with people he cares about. Atleast, that's what Rhysand has been telling me. If he's lying, I'll be very sad."

Y/n couldn't believe it. One of the most feared male in all of Prythian was her mate. Her gods darned mate.

She didn't know how she would tell him, considering she had never had an interaction with him. Still, she'll have to figure it out.

Because, feared or not, he deserved to know.

•○🌑○•

After the war.

She had realised that any one of them could die at any moment after the war, and then she'll feel guilt for not telling her mate about the bond. And so, she wanted to get to know him first. She had no idea how she'd do that, but her father did.

The war was over, but that didn't mean that everything was fine. And so, under the excuse of strengthening ties with the Night Court, her father had sent Y/n to help in Velaris. Of course, when she had called his bluff, he had acted innocent and declared he didn't know what she was talking about.

So now, it had been a week off her staying in Velaris, and she hadn't had any sort of conversation with Azriel except for a few polite smiles here and there.

She was in a room right next to Azriel, which Rhys claimed had nothing to do with their bond.

She huffed and turned onto her side, trying to fall asleep.

That was when she felt a panicked tug on the bond. She practically flew out of her bed and into Azriel's room to find him writhing on the bed. It was pitch dark, his shadows frantic.

She quickly made her way towards the bed, realising he was having a nightmare. She gently placed her hand on his bare shoulder, tying to wake him up because she didn't know what else to do.

She shook him slowly so as not to startle him, but when he didn't wake up, she put a little more force into it.

Which was, she realised a little too late, was the wrong thing to do.

One second, she was kneeling on his bed trying to wake him up. The next, she was pinned on the mattress, Azriel snarling in her face, one of his hands wrapped around her throat, the other clutching her hands above her head. But that wasn't what caused her breathing to grow shallow or her instincts to scream at her to flee.

No. It was the fact that she was helpless as she was pressed into the mattress.

Dark dungeons.

Beron's Second in Command sneering at her.

Her screams.

She couldn't breathe she couldn't breathe she—

Suddenly, the weight was lifted from her body, her hands free and the grip around her throat vanishing. She gasped, scrambling to sit up and scoot away from Azriel, who was kneeling in front of her with a horrified expression.

"I– I'm so sorry. I didn't mean–"

Y/n shook her head, trying to find her voice. "It's okay." She rasped.

"Did I hurt you?" She shook her head. He seemed to think for a moment. "Did I scream?" When she shook her head again, his eyes narrowed. "Then how did you know I was having a nightmare?"

She paled. "I just thought you– I didn't..." She knew lying to him would be futile, he was a damned Spymaster for a reason. So she swallowed and told him the truth. "I felt it."

She did not meet his eyes, though he stared at her. "How?"

She stayed silent. A few moments passed before she sighed and tugged on the bond. Gently at first. When he gave no reaction, she tugged harder.

He gasped, leaning forward and clutching his chest, staring at her with wide eyes. It felt like eternity had passed before he finally spoke.

"How–how long have you known?"

She looked at him as she cleared her throat. "Since the High Lords' meeting. Before the war."

"That's why you kept staring at me. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to get to know you first. I was scared."

He seemed to have regained his composure as he nodded. He stayed quiet for a moment. "Do you– do you want the bond? It's okay if you don't want it. Want me. I know my reputation isn't... the best."

"I want this Azriel. I just want to get to know you more before we accept the bond."

A smile stretched across his face, stealing Y/n's breath away.

"Then... how do you feel about getting dinner tomorrow?"

She smiled. "I would like that. Very much."

•○🌑○•

It had been a few months since that night, and Azriel and Y/n had been courting each other traditionally, like they would have if they weren't mates.

They took it slowly. Just last month they had shared their first kiss.

They had told each other everything about their pasts. She knew all about Azriel and he knew all about her. Except that one thing that not even her father knew. It wasn't as if she didn't want to tell him. She just didn't know how to.

As she knocked on the door to his new home, she wondered if she should tell him today. Better late then never, right?

He opened the door, an instant grin spreading on his face as he opened the door wide.

"Welcome home love." He mumbled, kissing her temple as she passed by him. She smiled and set the box in her hands on the corner where the other boxes were. "Dinner's ready."

He had recently bought this house for the two of them. His stuff was already here, and the box Y/n had been carrying was the last of her belongings.

When she had insisted that she could bring her stuff herself and didn't need him, he had declared that he'd be cooking dinner then.

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate. After the plates had been cleared away, he forced her to sit and relax while he did the dishes.

So as she sat on the kitchen counter, she told him of the new book she'd been reading. Soon enough, he had finished his work and was standing between her knees, leaning on his hands on either side of her hips, listening diligently as she finished her story.

"And that, my love, is how they got their happy ending." She flicked his nose.

He sighed. "I wonder if I'll get my happy ending tonight."

She giggled. "And what do you think your happy ending will be?"

"Just a few sweet kisses from my sweet sweet mate."

She laughed and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss.

It was amazing and dreamy, like she had always imagined and wanted her life with her mate to be like.

But the dreaminess of the moment soon started summoning her nightmares as Azriel's hand started to inch higher on her thigh, his other hand tugging her towards the edge of the counter.

Panic flared in her as she placed her hand on his chest, trying to push him away gently.

But then his hand brushed the waistband of her pants, and she pulled away with a gasp, her chest heaving. "No."

His brows furrowed as he searched her eyes. "What happened, darling?"

Tears formed in her eyes as those memories started creeping up on her. "No– not yet Azriel. I–I can't–"

Seeing those tears, his face softened with understanding. "Hey, its okay. We can wait. There's no hurry. Can you tell me what the matter is? Is it something I did?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "A century ago, I was still living in Autumn Court. Beron's Second in Command hated me, for no other reason that I existed, apparently. He was always trying to get me executed or imprisoned. One time, he succeeded. He convinced Beron to throw me in the dungeon because I was being rebellious, according to him. A few days in the dungeon would discipline me. And–and that he would personally look over my imprisonment." As her voice broke on the last part, Azriel's hands clutched her own and squeezed.

She swallowed. "He... he did overlook my imprisonment. Quite personally too."

He searched her eyes, his face hard. "The guards? They did nothing?"

She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They enjoyed watching him... discipline me." She wiped her face with her sleeves. "I'm so sorry, you have to wait because of me–"

He shushed her. "One thing I always want you to remember is that it wasn't ever your fault. It was his. Never apologise for someone else's mistakes." She sniffled as he pulled her into his arms, her head resting on his shoulders as she wound her hands around the back of his shoulders. He clasped the back of her neck as his other hand rubbed her back. He then carried her to their new bedroom, while she clung to him like a child, all the while murmuring about how it wasn't her fault.

He sat her down on the bed, helped her change into her night clothes before laying her down and settling down next to her. She lay her head n his chest, breathing in his calming scent.

"Can you tell me his name, love?"

"Orvyn."

She could feel him nod. She wondered why he asked, but couldn't think straight as sleep started creeping in.

She would ask him tomorrow, she decided.

•○🌑○•

Azriel's pov.

He was alert as the footsteps became louder and louder, until that bastard came into view. Azriel wanted to gut him like a fish, but that would not calm his rage. So he calmly stepped out of his shadows, only enough that he could be heard without having to shout.

"Orvyn?" He questioned. The blonde male turned, squinting to make out who had called his name. "Are you the Second in Command?"

Azriel watched as his chest puffed at the mention of his title. "Yes. That's me. Who might you be?"

Then Azriel stepped completely away from the darkness concealing him and smirked. He prowled closer, noticing how fear entered Orvyn's eyes, and how he refused to back down.

But while he was busy staring at the Spymaster, he failed to notice the shadows winding around his legs and arms. When Azriel was close enough to him, he whispered. "Your death."

Orvyn's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to scream, but before he could even take a breath, Azriel had winnowed the both of them away to the dungeons. The place where his mate had been kept.

•○●⛦●○•

As the darkness cleared from his vision, he found that his shadows had already bound Orvyn to the wall, keeping him standing. Some of them held his hand next to his head while some had bound his mouth so he couldn't scream. And some had already gone to keep an eye on anyone who might be coming near, sealing the ears of the guards nearby.

Azriel smiled at Orvyn as he whispered. "Where shall we start?" He pulled out Truth–Teller and placed it near his fingers. "Here? I think that's a good idea."

And then, as slowly as he could, he cut off the bastard's fingers. The stench of piss hit the air. "What is this? I thought you were supposed to be very brave and powerful. What happened now? If you're crying and pissing yourself now, I wonder what you'll do when I carve your dick out. I'll do that, then maybe even take your eyes as souvenirs. What do you say? Oh, and also, I want you to know that I'm not doing this because I'm being paid for it or anything. I just found out you assaulted my mate. Remember? Her name was Y/n."

His eyes were wide in recognition as tears started streaming down his face and Azriel clicked his tongue. He pulled out another ordinary dagger from his array of weapons and stabbed it in his thigh.

Then he placed Truth–Teller on his face and set to work.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

She groaned as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and stretched her hand out in search of her mate's warm body. But all she came across were cold sheets.

She was confused as she sat up and looked around for any indication of where he might be. He would have left a note if he was going for work. Maybe he was in the kitchen.

So she got up and waddled down the stairs, hunting for her mate. But she couldn't find him anywhere in their home.

Where was he?

Just then, she heard the front door opening and she rushed to meet Azriel. She had already expected him to be out, and he had returned now. Maybe he'd been running some errands.

What she hadn't expected was for him to be covered in blood.

"Cauldron boil me! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She asked, trying to usher him into the bathing room.

"What makes you think I'm hurt?" He raised an eyebrow.

She faltered. "Well, first of all, you look like you just took a swim in a pool of blood. Forgive me for expecting the worst." She began turning on faucets and filling the tub for him, adding oils into it before turning to him. Hurt or not, he would want to take a bath.

"I could have been doing my Spymaster things." He said, stripping and stepping into the water, sighing.

"Whenever you leave for work, you leave a note. Where were you, Azzie?"

"Just having some fun." When she continued to glare at him, he finally told her. "Hunting down bastards." She raised a brow. "Second in Command. Orvyn."

Her eyes widened. "What did you do to him?" He ignored her. "What did you do Azriel?"

So he told her everything in detail, so much so that she wanted to gag even as pride surged in her for her amazing mate. When he finished, he stood and toweled off, coming to stand in front of her.

She sighed. "Don't you think this could strain the already fragile relations between Night and Autumn? Beron could decide to attack–"

He grasped her jaw and tilted her head back as he leaned closer. "Y/n, I do not care about any of that."

"Are you sure? I remember you saying that you would do anything for this Court."

"Night Court is important for me, but not as much as you and your happiness. The whole of Prythian could go to hell if it meant you would be happy. Just say the word and I'd set the world on fire for you, my love."

Wetness gathered in her eyes and she furiously swiped at them. He pulled her hands away, smiling softly. "I don't want to cry." She choked out. He laughed and pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him so tight she wondered if he would choke.

But he didn't do anything other than hug her back just as fiercely.

And finally, after all these years, Y/n felt like she was safe. Nothing could hurt her as long as she had her mate.

And she couldn't ask for anything more.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @eos-princess