#both are oblivious to their feelings until the last second

[viaisms]

twenty questions

summary: penelope accidentally mentions that someone has a crush on you, she can't say who it is but you make it into a game so she can :) warnings: spencer reid x bau!reader, gn reader, mentions of drinking wine, pg-13 language, talk of bugs?? its a nickname,,, lots of use of pet names lol, fluff, no mention of y/n yeehaw, pining, you're completely oblivious about how much spencer wants you, not proofread </3 authors note: first fic!! i haven't officially written a fic in. gosh, years?? since the pandemmy :( i really want to get back into writing, so have this little blurb that i thought of! by all means i am here for any constructive criticism you may have<3 wc: 2.7k

The clatter of fingertips tapping against a keyboard filled the dimly lit BAU office. You sit at your desk, eyes fixed on the glowing screen as you scroll through reports, cross-referencing case files and taking notes. The quiet hum of the building has long since settled into a lull; you barely realize how deeply you've fallen into your work,

The distant ticking of a clock finally breaks your trance, but it wasn't until you feel the hairs arise on the back of your neck that you become fully aware. You slowly blink with a quiet groan, glancing at the time at the bottom of your screen.

10:58 PM. Shit.

You align your fingertips atop of your keyboard, the soft clatter filling the office once more before you hear the all-too familiar voice.

"Babes, what are you still doing here?!"

You turn and see nobody else but Garcia, finally emitting from her bat-cave. Her arms cross against her chest, a disappointed hum coming from her pressed lips. "You, my love, should be at home in a nice hot bath with a glass of wine."

Your lips splay a lazy smirk as you lean back in your chair, stretching your body with a quiet groan. "I was just about to wrap up, Pen, I promise..." You assure your colleague, feeling the strain of staring at a screen all day every time that you blink.

"Good deal my beautiful bug," Penelope chirps as her arms drop to her side. She's just as tired as you are, having spent all of her day digging through databases to find information on a potential UnSub. Her heals click as she goes to turn away, walking back towards her office.

"You know, you have to get your beauty sleep for your lover boy in the mor..." Her once confident words grow timid as she begins to trail off.

Penelope's breath catches in her throat as she realizes the words that so effortlessly flew off her tongue, her blood running cold at her grave error. Spencer is going to kill her.

"My what?" Your eyes narrow, scoffing in a confused manner.

She stills, yet she doesn't turn to you.

"Nothing! I... I didn't say anything..." She mutters with a nervous stammer of your name, the rhythmic clicking of her heels continuing as she speeds to her office.

You stand, the wheels of your office chair sliding out from under you as you feel a weakness in both of your legs. You stretch once more, trying to think of when the last time you even stood was.

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her hand is resting on the cold, slick material of the doorknob that has the potential to separate her from this deep abyss that she just dug herself into. Instead, she stills for another moment before turning to you once more.

Penelope has to think of a lie, and quick.

"Obviously... I was talking about Morgan!"

There is a reason why she does what she does for a living, and is rarely out on the field with the rest of the crew unless her technical skills are needed.

Your eyes squint with a tentative hum. You don't believe Garcia, not for a second.

"You do know I'm a profiler..." A grumble of amusement comes from your chest at Penelope's attempt.

"Right..." She murmurs, her voice quiet as she breaks your gaze. She's mentally kicking herself for blabbing, such a rookie mistake in the game of workplace gossip.

Your eyebrows raise as you await Garcia's confession. However, she stays strong, not uttering another peep from her velvet-painted lips.

"So...?" You sing after a beat of silence, stars of hope glistening in the pools of your eyes.

With a whine, Penelope's shoulders drop.

"Look... I love you, sweetness, I do..." Her lips droop into a frown. Penelope's eyes greet your own somberly with a shake of her own head. "But I promised I wouldn't tell..."

You feel a weight of disappointment on your chest, and with a sigh, you decide to drop it. Penelope sees the way the sparkle in your eye begins to dim, eliciting a whine from her barely audible to your own ears.

"But!" She chirps, trying to share some of her own light with you. Penelope shouldn't be doing this, and she knows it. However, she is far too nurturing to let a beautiful smile like yours falter for even a second. "If you guess it... it's not technically me telling you, right?"

"You know? I like the way your mind thinks," You hum, reveling in the fact that you got your way. "Twenty questions?" The cold sensation of the faux-leather hits you as you sit back in your chair.

The corner of Penelope's lips twitch upwards as a combination of guilt and excitement course through her veins. "You know I love a good game, hit me..." She murmurs, her voice self-assured as she pulls a chair from a nearby desk, her legs crossing as she sits next to you.

"Okay..." You mutter with a shaky sigh. The pounding of your heart fills your entire body, your stomach slightly cramping with nerves. "Is it someone I know?"

"Uh, duh?"

Your eyes flutter shut, raking through potential victims that fell for whatever love trap you didn't even intent on setting. "Male or female?"

"Acht! That's not part of the rules my curious friend and you know it," Her dark eyes narrow as she playfully scolds her colleague. "I'm totally counting it though, eighteen more questions..."

With pressed lips, you weigh out the obvious individuals who are least likely to be a contender. Penelope sees how deep you are in thought, and she can't help herself but quietly scoff.

How can you not know it's Spencer? She thinks to herself. Everyone around the office sees it -- everyone but you, apparently. As you think, her mind wanders to about two months prior, where Spencer came to her for love advice. Penelope, being herself, already knew he was fawning over you. She picked up on it the moment the genius somehow grew more awkward every time he were to speak to you.

However, also being herself, she refused to give him any sound advice until he spilled who the lucky contender was; which just so happened to be you.

The sound of your voice pulls her out of her own mind.

"Do I see them often?"

The corners of her lips prop upwards, almost tauntingly. "Very," she affirms.

Someone you see very often... you mentally walk through your day-to-day routine, retracing every step no matter how minuscule. You awake every morning to nobody in your apartment but your cat, besides the occasional sleepover with a friend every now and again. You ready yourself for work alone, your first stop in the morning being the local coffee shop down the street...

"Ooh! Is it someone from the coffee shop?" You chirp, your heart beginning to race at the idea of an unspoken stranger admiring your beauty from afar. Individuals you see there on a day-to-day basis flood your mind, although it completely falls empty for the exception of one person; a barista behind the counter, roughly your age who is not bad looking in the slightest.

"That would be a negative..." Her red-painted lips press together, a slight pang of disappointment hitting you in the gut that it wasn't the barista.

"Darn..." You tut, your mind trying to silently place the pieces of the puzzle together. Someone you know, someone you see often, not someone from the coffee shop...

Penelope can't believe how oblivious you are. How do you not pick up on the fact that Spencer follows you around the office like a lost puppy? Or the fact that when the two of you are on the field together, he insists you go with him or vice versa because he feels the need to protect you?

"No way that it's a colleague?" Your brows stitch together, your head slanting as you throw the inconceivable idea into the open.

Penelope's head slightly tilts downwards as she gazes at you through the top of her frames. She flashes you a sly, almost flirtatious grin at your not-so-far-fetched theory.

"And if it is?"

The feeling of your heart hammering in your heart is felt throughout your entire body, your cheeks warming as you feel blood rush to your brain.

"Who?!" You exclaim, completely forgoing the rules to the game. This narrows your options to about seven. Your hands fumble with the cotton on the hem of your shirt as you narrow your options down even further, a shuttering breath falling from your lips.

"How do you not know?!" Penelope is quick to match your energy, an actual pain shooting through her chest at your own naivety. Her brows raise as her eyes widen, her fists balling as she folds herself back from blurting it out.

Your lips part as you're about to exclaim something quick and witty back to your colleague when it hits you. Like a fish gulping for water, you feel the soft skin of your lips quickly snap shut.

The memories hit you all at once: the mornings you're in a rush and you forget your coffee - Reid excusing himself for a moment with a muttered excuse before returning with it minutes later, the nights you return home from a case and he offers to spend time with you because it pains you being alone after what you saw, the countless facts he will ramble to you on the plane because damn it, you're the only one that actually listens to him.

"Oh my god, Reid?" Your jaw drops as you gasp, your arms numbing as your nerves shoot past the roof and to the stratosphere.

With a relieved sigh, Penelope's palms slap against her thighs, planting her leg down onto the floor with her other one. "Finally!" She groans, almost feeling a sense of comfort that you know and the weird tension around the office while the two are around would soon come to an end.

"Since when?!" Your heart ticks against your chest so hard that you can hear it in your ears. Never in a million years would you assume it would be Spencer that would be silently pining over you. Reid?!

"Since like... forever, buttercup!" Penelope giggles. She can see the dots being connected in the pretty little brain of yours, and god, she loves it. Her voice softens, a warm, almost maternal intent behind them. "We really should be getting home..." She groans, her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. "Since you two are totes madly in love already, let me know when one of you decides to make the move, okay?"

With a roll of your eyes, the back of your hand ever so gently strikes the side of Garcia's arm. She notices the way blush speckles across your face, a knowing grin playing against her own. You can't ignore the way your chest fuzzes over at the thought of Spencer feeling about you the way you feel about him, it makes your stomach ache with desire; you don't know if you love or hate the sensation.

"Goodnight, Garcia..." A mix between a chuckle and a sigh of contentment is emitted from you. She mumbles a quick 'good night' with a quick, playful wink before standing from her chair, returning it to its original home.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The next morning you're in a hurry to get to work, oversleeping by a long shot as it took you forever to wind down last night due to your wandering thoughts.

You get to your desk with merely minutes to spare, a tired, overwhelmed groan falling from your lips as you place your bag in your desk and splay your jacket against the back of your chair.

"Long night last night, agent?"

You don't even have to look up to know who it is... your body freezes for a moment, not sure if you're prepared to deal with this; not yet, anyways.

With a soft sigh, your gaze is lifted and immediately greeted with Spencer's. His large, curious and caring stare. His hazel eyes almost bare into your own, causing a tingle to run down your spine. You try to ignore the butterflies that patter within the walls of your stomach, yet they're hard to confine.

"Yeah... I'm fine, Reid," You nod, your lips tentatively pressing together. "Just didn't sleep worth the damn last night... just... thinking about the case..." You trail, the sound of your voice growing softer and quieter like a beautiful decrescendo.

His lips part for just a moment, an inaudible 'ah' coming from him before giving you an understanding nod.

"I figured... Garcia told me you were here late last night and I kind of... presumed this may happen," He muses with an awkward chuckle. "Which is why... I brought you this..."

Reid's tall frame trails away from your desk for a moment, which draws out a soft hum from you as you tap your fingertips against the smooth, cool material of your desk.

His long stride is quick to return, your heart almost leaping out of your throat as he sees what's within his long, slender fingers.

Your favorite coffee.

You accept the gesture, your stomach doing flips as you take the cup within the confines of your own grasp. You mumble something quick and playful, telling Spencer that he is your favorite person in the world right now for such a small action.

The feeling of someone else watching you is burned into the back of your skull, a sensation churning in your gut that you can't shake. Your gaze flicks over to the side, in which you're immediately greeted by Garcia.

She not-so-subtly flashes two thumbs up at you, her nails painted a shade of dark purple. "Go get 'em!" She mouths in approval, your gaze quickly turning over to the male in front of you in attempt to hide Penelope's matchmaking attempt.

"Hey... do you um... maybe want to get coffee at this place together sometime?" You attempt to thickly swallow down your nerves, trying to soothe the heartbeat creeping out of your chest.

Spencer is silent a moment, his lips twitching upwards in a sign of approval at your suggestion. You see the thoughts shifting through his mind, the rates of his blinks increasing in a sense of disbelief that you're actually asking him this.

"I-- um... yeah! Let's do tomorrow before work? If... you're okay getting up that early, if not we can totally do a different time, perhaps--"

"Tomorrow it is..." You cut him off, something you rarely do. He nods in agreement, a quiet 'tomorrow' mumbled from his lips as he attempts to conceal his excitement.

You’re not sure how to shake off the butterflies in your stomach, but Spencer’s shy smile is enough to make you feel warm all over. You take a sip of your coffee, letting the moment linger. Before you can say anything else, Garcia’s voice breaks through your thoughts, louder than life.

"You two better not cancel on me! I want details!" she teases from across the room, flashing a mischievous grin your way. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

Spencer, now fully aware of the matchmaker’s antics, lets out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair, looking even more flustered than before.

You meet his gaze again, a new kind of tension settling between you—a mix of nerves, excitement, and something deeper that you’re not ready to name just yet. You take a breath, feeling that the next chapter of whatever this is has already started, and it’s thrilling.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you murmur, unable to stop the grin that’s threatening to split your face. Spencer nods, his smile small but genuine, as he turns to head to his desk.

As he walks away, you catch a glimpse of Garcia again, this time with an exaggerated wink. You shake your head, but you can’t suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

And maybe... just maybe, things are finally falling into place.

[erosiism]

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 | yandere! prince x male! reader | NSFW

pairing: horny! prince x oblivious! male reader

CONTAINS:

blowjob

overstimulation

bathtub sex

dick riding (literally)

nipple play

fingering

sorry i think im turning into a nsfw tumblr page with a sprinkle of gore, fluff and angst lol might contain small tiny discrepancies as i edited it from third person to second person. | taken from my fic on wattpad called possession thank you for 1k followers on tumblr! please comment, reblog, and like if you enjoyed this

The situation you had gotten yourself in was rather dire.

For the longest period of time, you had been unaware of your best friend’s feelings — the crown prince — and just how strong his affections were towards you.

And that included not knowing how horny Isidor — your best friend — was. 

And now that both of your feelings were out in the open, that meant that the air was practically suffocating with sexual tension.

You sat across him on the bed, jumbling up your words as you tried to tackle this nefarious topic.

"I—" You faltered. "What I mean to say is, I know you're sexually aroused. You've made that clear..." you trailed off, voice small. "And I know you're being very patient with me."

"Yes, Y/n." Isidor said slowly, "...what are you trying to say?"

Why is he making me say it? you thought with frustration, just—!

You reeled the prince in for a kiss, cupping the prince’s cheek and pouring all the things you couldn't figure out how to say at that moment in that kiss. Then when both your lips were both red and swollen (they already were, from all the initial kisses), you looked at Isidor with a meaningful glance.

Realization flashed through Isidor's eyes. It was followed by a smoldering glint that signaled his lust.

Encouraged by his reaction — you struggled on, "you don't have to wait. You don't have to be patient."

Isidor was painfully hard by then, his cock throbbing and pulsing as blood rushed up to its surface. 

"Y/n," Isidor murmured in a strangled voice, "say it. You know, I am curious about how sound-proofed our dorm truly is. Let's test it out, shall we?"

"I—"

You had barely gotten the words out before Isidor was crowding you against the walls, tongue licking a stripe up your neck from your open collar. Oh, you tasted godly — Isidor would carve his hips against your own and engrave his initials to your brain — he would make you say his name in a feverish heat. 

Isidor's hands started to slide under our shirt, staring at you with eager eyes. "Say what you want, Y/n — and I shall give."

"I want," you panted, "you to fuck me."

I want you to fuck me.

Following your bold declaration, Isidor's remaining sanity that he prided himself on had dissipated into nothingness. For an extremely long period of time, Isidor had thought he still had remarkable self control, considering that he, up until this point, had not made any significant advances towards you, the man he loved.

But you had now given him explicit permission — had almost begged for it, even. 

Isidor angled himself into a tilt, dragging his lips along your sensitive own. You gasped — and Isidor took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into the gap of your mouth, plunging right into the heart of your mouth.

And oh, he sure took his time to explore. You found yourself grasping for something to support yourself with, as every single time Isidor would move, your limbs would grow weak.

And soon, when the two of you broke apart, there was an obscene, sliver slick of saliva at the edge of your lips. Sensual, sensitive, and alluring.

"You're sensitive," Isidor whispered, "now this is going to be fun..."

And even that last kiss had careened into something else entirely — into a debauched, obscene mess. At that moment, there was no rhythm to the kiss — there was nothing controlled about your movements. Isidor's grip on your waist was bruising and lacked the tenderness that it usually had.

"You're hard," Isidor said, almost seeming proud — "aren't you, Y/n?"  He reached down to your hard length and squeezed, causing you to release a soft moan, grinding yourself against Isidor.

"Ah—don't —" you swallowed, "Isidor."

Isidor wanted to ruin you. He wanted to mark the skin that seemed to call him in —to lick the skin that was peppered and powdered with pink.  He wanted to stake his claim on your body, to show that you were truly his, and solely his. Only his.

Isidor didn't respond, instead grasping your pants and pulling it down in a deft motion, tossing it to the other side of the room where it lay forgotten. And now you could be seen hard, aching — with your boxers painfully restraining your boner. Isidor licked his lips, the other hand grabbing your shirt and also tossing it away carelessly. Yourbare skin looked like a feast to Isidor: it was unblemished, untouched, and provided as the perfect canvas for Isidor to litter his marks and kisses on. 

"Perhaps we should do something about this," Isidor murmured, one finger reaching to jerk your cock, still clothed beneath your boxers, the other slowly peeling off the last layer of fabric like Isidor was uncovering a prize. "Right, Y/n?"

"Don't tell me you're planning on—" you swallowed back a moan, a hand flying to your mouth as you stifled the lewd sounds slipping from your mouth. "I-Isidor—"

How unfair. Isidor was completely clothed still, while you were already naked and bare for him to see. Isidor pressed his cheek to the head of your cock, his eyes gleaming. His hands had started to wrap around your girth, lips curling into a smirk. And here you were initially worrying about giving head — when as it turned out, Isidor was going to be the one giving it to you. 

Precum was already leaking from the top of your cock, sluggishly dripping down your whole length. You started to writhe, your train of thought forgotten. Your whole body was riled up, all restless energy and pure jittery nerves. Your hands flew up to weave into dark strands of hair as Isidor started to move, bobbing his head to swallow your cock whole. You felt a sudden jolt of pleasure as all you could feel was the slickness, wetness and pure heat of Isidor's mouth enveloping your body, deep-throating him. A wanton moan left your mouth.

"Shhh," Isidor murmured, "I'll make you feel good, darling. You can make those noises when I truly fuck you later."

Isidor was awfully good at giving head, to the extent you started to suspect he had done it before. And it was not before long when your cock started to twitch as you felt your imminent release. Desperately, you tried to pry Isidor's lips from your length, but the prince stayed stubbornly, his eyes traveling towards to meet yours. Your thighs spread further apart, your ass angling upwards, cock jerking in Isidor's mouth, fervently begging for more.

Smug. Isidor looked smug, like he knew he was responsible for your first release.

You watched with mortification as Isidor's Adam apple bobbed, the white liquid sliding down his throat. But your mind was already driven from pleasure and your eyes were glazed, your vision indescribably heavy. You grew slack as low breaths escaped your lips, your chest rising up and down as you looked at Isidor, cheeks reddening.

Why was the fuck — sorry for the crude language — was the crown prince licking his lips?

"You came so fast," Isidor murmured, "perhaps I should have delayed it so you would have the energy to continue on. Perhaps I should have waited so that you would come with my cock inside you. But no matter —  I can think of a lot better ways to make you come again..." Isidor pressed a firm kiss to the base of your neck, straightening his back to be on eye level with you. "Can you continue?"

It was stupid to think how a simple blowjob had rendered you utterly gone. 

I'm not going to last, you thought, I really won't. Because from the looks of it, Isidor had plenty of ideas in mind.

"Not fair," your voice was garbled, "I've already come once and you haven't even taken your clothes off yet."

"Would you like to do the honor?" Isidor tilted his head teasingly, reveling in the feel of your bare skin underneath his fingers, "would you, Y/n?"

You nodded your head weakly. Your hands reached out, trembling, to fumble clumsily with the band of the prince's pants and boxers, slowly pulling it down like Isidor had done earlier. Isidor was impatient — he was already deftly and quickly unbuttoning his own shirt, discarding it into the pile that your clothes had formed. 

And oh, you could see how the prince had been so truly tortured for the past year, in all the moments you had been oblivious to his advances. The tip of his bulbous cock was so swollen and red that you marveled at it — but a strange feeling settled into the pits of your stomach: how were you supposed to fit it in?

"Well," Isidor said in a low voice, "now that the matter of our clothes has been settled..." Slowly yet roughly, Isidor pushed you down to press flush against the bed, using his hands to pin you down and secure you. Your head was now resting on the pillows placed against the bed frame.

There was a brief stretch of silence.

"What are you doing?" You asked feebly, seeing how Isidor seemed to be so transfixed with you, "aren't you going to do something?"

"Admiring you." Isidor breathed out, "seeing how all this —" Isidor's hands gingerly traveled across the expanse of your chest, before resting upon your nipple and twisting it — "is mine now. Seeing how all that I've lusted for...every inch of you is all mine to touch."

"Isidor," you said, your voice cracking. "You're torturing yourself by waiting."

"And don't I know it." Isidor smiled.

"Isidor," you whined, your voice needy as the prince's fingers grazed your other nipple, "just—"

"Starving for it, are you?" Isidor kissed your bud, swirling his tongue around it. There was a sheen of saliva between your hard nipple and Isidor's mouth as he finished sucking it. Isidor moved towards the crook of your neck temporarily, lightly scraping his skin with teeth, just enough for a small mark to blossom as it followed the fangs of his teeth. You let out an unconscious moan, feeling as slight pain started to settle in.

Isidor looked with satisfaction at the mark that now adorned your neck, resuming his earlier actions — your hands twitched, body arching up as Isidor played idly with your nipple, rolling it leisurely between his fingers before pinching the sensitive and red bud. 

A hand stopped you from rolling your hips towards Isidor's hard cock, pressing you further against the bed. Teeth tugged at your earlobe, biting it gently and possessively as light kisses were then bestowed upon your skin. A hopeless and tender groan fell from your lips as Isidor moved down to latch onto your other nipple — the one that had been spared earlier — glancing at you with a starved look.

"You taste so good..." Isidor mumbled, seeming to be lost in whatever pleasure he was experiencing — "ah, I just want to fuck you already."

Isidor was a prince. His language was often flowery and not crude. And yet now obscenities were being spewed from his lips like nothing. It made your chest tingle as you saw the power you held over the prince — as you realized the power the two of you had over each other. 

Oh, you could bring Isidor down to his knees.

Your thighs were spread further apart, Isidor slotting himself right in between them as if he belonged there.

"I'll prepare you," Isidor leaned back as he opened the bedside drawer and took out a bottle of lube, making you immediately ask: how do you have lube so readily available? — to which, Isidor answered: for myself. "I'll prepare you, Y/n."

Ah fuck...you’re so cute. You are so, so cute. I just want to put it in already — I just want to fuck you already, Isidor thought in desperation, I just want you. But for the sake of your bottom half in the future...

Isidor coated his fingers and cock liberally with the slick liquid, his touch hot as he capped the bottle, chucking it to the side. The last vestiges of coherent, calm thoughts were slowly starting to vanish from Isidor's mind — so close. He was so close to feeling your walls squeezing along his hard length, just like he had always envisioned in his dirty dreams —

Heat surged through you, positively blazing as Isidor pressed two fingers relentlessly against your hole. The foreign sensation grounded you — sparks of pleasure tingled down your spine as Isidor wiggled his fingers around, pressing down onto your prostate. It held your impending orgasm at bay — albeit briefly — but you welcomed the feelings, moan after moan leaving your lips, the lewd sound mixing with the filthy sounds echoing around the room.

You hoped fervently that the rooms were advertised like they were — soundproof.

But even with two, you felt so full. It burned, yes, especially when Isidor added a third. 

"Mgh," you moaned, "Isidor—ah, hngh—"

"I've waited, Y/n," Isidor purred, "I deserve to be a little selfish, don't I?"

Isidor was practically scissoring you open, consistently pressing down to the most sensitive spot in your hole — you writhed on those fingers as they plunged in deeper, milking your prostate with precise strokes. And when those fingers left, you felt empty, your walls clenching around nothing. A last finger trailed lightly over your twitching rim, the touch featherlight and gentle, yet as you were already sensitive from your earlier orgasm, you couldn't help but jolt at his touch. 

"You took my fingers so willingly," Isidor cooed, "makes you wonder how you'll take my cock, right?"

"Will you — ah —" you panted, feeling your vision black out for the briefest moment — "Isidor —"

"Are you tired?" One last kiss was pressed onto your lips, chaste, but no less satisfying as the others — "bear with me a little longer."

"Isidor," you whined, giving a petulant moan. You were unsure of what you wanted. No, actually, screw that — you knew exactly what he wanted. You ran your nails along Isidor's back, causing the prince to hiss slightly, "just — just do what you want. Do what you want with me."

"Isn't that inviting?" Isidor's voice held no restraint, as he practically towered over you. "isn't that too inviting, Y/n?"

"Please — mgh,” you were sobbing now, tears streaming down your face. It was not of pain, however — it was due to the pure pleasure and ecstasy thrumming below your skin. 

Isidor wiped away at your tear-smeared cheeks, shushing you softly and thumbing at your waist with sweetness and tenderness. "Oh," Isidor panted, "I promise you it won't hurt. I can't promise you that I'll be gentle, but —"

"Fuck me."

Isidor's head snapped up to meet you, real hunger swirling in his eyes. The nips on your skin veered into bites, and soon Isidor started to line his cock to the rim of your sensitive hole. As the tip prodded your entrance, you found Isidor's arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer. Isidor grunted slightly as he started to press in slowly, as your body rejoiced at the feel of Isidor's girth entering your body, your walls tightening around it.

"Hah," you panted, "I-Isidor—"

The prince paused, allowing you to accommodate his size. Isidor grabbed your thighs, and in a quick motion, threw your legs over his shoulder, forcing you to lift your hips. And Isidor's grip on your hip stayed.

Trembling, you let out a wanton groan when you felt the tip of Isidor's cock twitch as it brushed against the hot, slick ring of muscle, clearly eager to plunge inside. And you were more than ready to accommodate it — to accommodate the warmth; the demand. A filthy sound echoed yet again around the room as Isidor pushed his cock deeper into you. And you couldn't help but keen as you felt yourself being breached, violent shivers wrecking and coursing through you as Isidor slid in with his entire length in a single thrust.

Slowly but surely, Isidor bottomed out, sinking deeper, splitting you open and punching all the air out of you. You were left gasping, breathing in and out rapidly. Isidor was huge, you thought, left shaking at the stretch, with Isidor all the way in. Your vision turned black for a moment, and you feared you would pass out from overstimulation. But that moment passed, and you were still there. Alive.

Your legs were suspended over Isidor's shoulder, your back upright against the bed frame. And Isidor started off with a slow pace, and slowly set up a steady rhythm that left you gutted every time the prince thrusted back in.

Isidor wrapped his arms around you and pulled you until the two of you were impossibly close, his cock rubbing deep against your insides, causing you to gasp against the skin of Isidor's neck. Briefly, Isidor seemed to catch sight of your reflection in a tiny mirror on the bedside table — and the prince smiled as he grabbed your chin and angled you towards it. 

You flushed.

"Look how pretty you are, Y/n. Look, Y/n. Look at your pretty little face. Look at your eyes...your nose...your lips. Such a cutie just for me, right?"

You could not answer — it felt like you were getting pried open to the point that your brain couldn't register anything.

The pace had started to increase, and Isidor had clearly become greedier with his thrusts turning more vicious and earth-shattering. Each one sent you pushed against the bed frame, and Isidor burrowed his head into your neck, breathing heavily in your ear.

"Haa — You feel so good," Isidor looked almost relieved that all his pent up sexual frustration over the months — the year — had finally been resolved, "oh, Y/n...you  take me so well — aren't you just made for me?"

Compliments and sweet sensibilities continued to roll off Isidor's lips.

"Aren't you just such a pet?" Isidor breathed out shakily, "Aren't you just perfect for me? Fuck —”  You rolled his hips amidst a delicious burn. Something blazed in Isidor — he slammed in deeper than the previous thrust, dragging his length over your prostate.

"My stamina — it's terribly bad," you choked out, spots beginning to swarm around your vision. But still your body continued to move against Isidor's. 

"And yet you're still doing wonderfully." Isidor murmured, pressing a kiss onto your lips. Your lips were bitten raw and almost bloody, but Isidor's lips were slick and hot, and that sent more pleasure tingling down your  spine — "aren't you?"

You seemed to burn. You didn't know just how your body was still holding up — when you would have expected that it would have been gone by now. But you couldn't dwell upon it — soft lips met yours, the movement languorous and easy as Isidor's mouth explored yours.

Isidor's hands moved up to frame your face, shaking a little bit from the emotions coursing through him. He'd wanted this. Had yearned for it for years. And here he was, with his cock in you, watching as pleasure blazed in his beloved's eyes.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of your mouth against his, the way your skin felt underneath his soft caresses, frantic and urgent. Yes — Isidor, though starved, could be gentle, reverent, adoring. The kiss was so soft, tender, and sweet that it made you dizzy.

"Isidor, please — haa, fuck me," you pleaded. You felt the cock inside of you twitch, the sensation almost too much for your tightly wound body. It felt near overwhelming how deep Isidor reached, how thoroughly stretched your ass was around the throbbing erection inside of you.

Isidor's pace was faster now, and his thrusts were going sloppy. You could feel the way Isidor tugged your hair to kiss you wildly and messily unlike the previous soft kisses — and with a low groan of your name, Isidor buried himself to the hilt, spilling himself deep inside of you. Warmth — pure warmth pooled low in your belly, and Isidor's cock pulsed with the last of its release. This was cherished, inviting warmth, and Isidor pressed a firm kiss onto your forehead and shifted his hips back, slipping out. His cock had softened compared to before and yet still —

You felt completely and utterly gone. Boneless. Used.

You could feel Isidor's cum slowly trickling out of your abused hole, but you currently cared very little about sullying yourself or the sheets.

"I'll clean you," Isidor said hoarsely, wrapping you in his arms. "Come here, darling."

Your vision was fading in and out — you were immensely tired, and yet — how horny was Isidor? You would have expected for his appetite to have been whetted after the prince spilled all that in you — after he had relentlessly pounded you — but still, Isidor's stamina had not waned. If anything, the prince was only stopping out of consideration.

You allowed yourself to be carried and to be brought into the bathroom — there were a few wet and sloppy kisses exchanged between the two of you, with Isidor nearly pressing onto you against the table —  but whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, Isidor managed to turn on the tap, run the bath, and enter the bath along with you. There were a few peaceful minutes as you collected your thoughts and feelings, your breaths managing to steady. 

And it was with mirth you realized that just a while ago, the two of you had bathed here, with you utterly oblivious.

And now you weren’t oblivious to the fact that Isidor — he was still horny. It was concerning how a human could hold so much hunger for someone.

...Should I...?

You cupped the prince's cheek, looking at him meaningfully while using your leg to nudge Isidor's erection. Despite how exhausted you were — though those few minutes had saved your lungs, albeit temporarily — you were selfish enough to want the both of you to feel satisfied. You wanted the first time to be equally desirable for both of you. And besides...you did need to train your stamina, didn't you?

"Are you that insatiable?" You asked, tilting your head. Your voice was now rendered hoarse. You felt like you had just gotten the living lights fucked out of you mercilessly — your back was aching, with the countless of times you had nearly been folded against the bed frame — and your nipples and lips were sore, having been bitten.

A heated sensation went right to Isidor's cock.

"You can still fuck me," you murmured, "here."

In normal circumstances, Isidor would have said no. But here you were. pliant, offering him this decision — how could the prince resist?

"You might regret this decision," Isidor warned, starting to move towards you. One hand held the back of your head, so the proceeding thrust would not cause you to topple right over — while the other hand gripped your already bruised hip. It was a rather interesting position, with you straddled over him, Isidor's cock pressed against your stomach.

You smiled gently. "I won't. So you're really that insatiable, I suppose."

With that final affirmation, Isidor lifted your hips slowly, dragging his length over the puffiness of your hole. It was much too ambitious to think about fucking you again but god, Isidor so wanted to. And he would. Isidor would fuck you again, with your

Your hole was slick and wet already from the earlier rounds, and so slipping it in was easy. In fact, so easy — that Isidor started to marvel at just how made for each other you two were — and his gaze dropped down to the evidence of the penetration — the slight bulge in your lower stomach. Your ass was sitting so sweetly and nicely on his cock, your walls squeezed around it. You gave a little moan as you started to adjust yourself.

Isidor's voice came out so wrecked it was almost inaudible — and he answered your question belatedly. "I'm afraid that yes, I am. I am that insatiable."

You were on his lap — you were —

...Riding him, amidst the waters.

The evidence of your previous pleasures was smeared between the two of your bodies, and Isidor languidly rolled once more into you, thrusting into your prostate once more. And all you could do was sit there prettily and gasp as your cock twitched against your abdomen, leaking more fluid onto yourself. 

Your hands tightened around Isidor's neck, pulling him down for another filthy, wet kiss. Endless shivers and tiny spasms wrecked through you as Isidor kept fucking you, with moans and sounds falling all over your kiss-swollen lips. The pleasure in your body started to build once more. Exhaustion riddled your body, and yet your walls continued to clench around Isidor's intrusion, with the prince's fingers digging into your hips, his rhythm faltering for a split second before returning. This time, the thrust was faster and harder. Isidor was practically splitting you open. 

Overstimulated, You felt like you were gone.

Your lips met with his in a mix of saliva and tongue, and you shuddered as Isidor grounded himself further, pushing his way inside until he was impossibly deep in you. The water sloshed around the two of you, and for the briefest moment, you wondered what it would have been like for your entire body to be beneath the water.

Whatever obscene sounds you made were muffled by Isidor's hungry mouth on yours, unrelenting and harsh. You were devoured, ravished, treasured — and you loved every bit of it.

Your stomach swooped as Isidor broke the kiss and started rocking into you faster, the thrusts stronger and deeper now as he took pleasure from your obedient body. With your breathing ragged and uneven, you closed your eyes and let the sensations wash over you. You could feel everything — the way Isidor pressed inside of you, the way Isidor fucked you until guttural cries were forcibly spilled from your mouth. You could feel the unrestrained desire, the pace quickening. There was the steady roll of hips against an addicting burn — Isidor thrusted in and out, his cock sliding into your wet hole continuously. 

"Fuck," Isidor breathed out, "you're so perfect."

Your hole stretched so impossibly wide, taking in the prince deeply. There were a never ending mix of grunts, groans, and moans from the both of you, coupled with aborted renditions of Isidor's name — you were rendered speechless and helpless. 

You could feel the sensation vividly — the warmth spreading through your belly, anchoring you. The searing heat that was diffusing in you, building and building until it threatened to overwhelm you. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, you felt the imminent sensation of your release. 

Isidor thrusted, harder, pressing his cock as deep into you as it could go. You clenched around Isidor, muscles constricting involuntarily and rippling around the cock fucking you open. A low groan sounded below you, as Isidor's hips stuttered for a brief second before he found his rhythm again. Your body was wet with the water but the slipperiness of it only reduced the friction between Isidor’s and your body — Isidor took your lips in his, ravaging them.

"Fuck," Isidor panted, voice strained from the effort of plowing into you. "You're so cute." The prince could not seem to stop the honeyed praises from falling from his lips.

Another thrust ripped a moan from your throat. Isidor was pounding into you, his motions merciless and relentless. You clawed at his back, your walls tightening as he struggled to accommodate Isidor's size. 

You pushed your hips back down — Isidor's body responded, and he flexed his hips just in time to meet with your downward grind, and that was the last straw. It was enough for you to release once more, and your back arched as you spilled on the thick length lodged right against your prostate, walls quivering. Isidor had come too, and now the both of you were panting, with you seated firmly on the prince's cock. The spilled seed leaked from your puffy and tender hole.

You could feel yourself really about to black out this time round. It was a miracle that you had made it this far — if not for the small break you had had in the bath, you would have collapsed by now. Strong, muscular hands wrapped around your waist, and Isidor was pressing tender kiss after kiss on the marks littered on your skin. It was like the prince was trying to map everything out again. 

Lips rasped against your cheek, and you felt a hand brush your loose hair away from your face. Isidor's voice was low and sweet as he spoke: "Rest well, darling."

And with that, you blacked out, your exhausted body slumping against the cold tiles of the bathroom.

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[seneon]

Can you make Mash x female reader please.

That when Finn and the other want to know why Mash doesn't love lemon like she do to him. And they got answer from Mash that because he protect reader love

sink into each other ──── mash burnedead x fem! reader.

about. mash actually has a lover, and his friends are to find out about it very soon. | 560+ words. fluffy romantic.

notes. if mash don't want lemon i'll have her tyvm

mash burnedead does not return lemon irvine's feelings. how so and why? though the girl doesn't mind that he does not return her feelings back, she promised to always be by mash's side.

she might be oblivious that he does not like her back, but finn and dot could easily tell that mash is not someone of romantical feelings. lance is always suspicious of mash, his mind telling him that there is at least one female that he has had a crush on before. it is impossible that there is none.

to everyone else, they could tell that lemon's efforts of trying to open up mash's heart and at least rent a day or two is impossible. there was never a possibility in the first place. and they felt bad for the girl who tries her hardest to impress or seduce mash.

there was one odd day, where mash is oddly missing from classes. the last time anyone has ever seen him was finn, which mash was eating two cream puffs. he noticed there was a bento wrapped in a very beautiful wine red cloth.

so finn told his friends about the beautifully clothed bento box. and they started sharing suspicions with each other. but nothing came to mind. there was nothing that could date back to mash even owning a fancy piece of cloth. they didn't want to simply suspect him either.

that is, when lance's suspicions came true.

he was walking through the corridors beside the garden and caught a sight at the corner of his eyes. upon having high principals, his curiosity overtook him and he went to poke his nose into the scene.

shock immediately arise, lance's jaw dropping as far as they could. metaphorically, it dropped to the ground, eyes widened until they might fall out. right in front of him, was a scene of his beloved rival and friend wrapping his arms around a student who is dressed in lang's uniform.

when that student broke the hug, it shocked lance even more. with beautiful hair and beautiful eyes that stared into mash's honey ones. she smiled widely and adding more shock to the crown, mash smiled back, although tiny and barely visible. yet it was enough for lance to understand the scenario.

"w-whaaaaat..!" a voice beside lance said in pure shock too, as lance looked beside to find finn's jaw dropped to the ground. "that's what the fancy bento is for??"

lance looked at the two, noticing the girl's hands that held a bento, a box wrapped in cream puff cloth. then to mash, who held the said bento with fancy wrapping.

very soon, you and mash exchanged bento boxes. the burnedead then embraced you in a hug, allowing your body to sink into his. just like that, both bodies were sinking into each other as each second passed.

you are a mage from a prestigious family with two lines on your face. it would only make sense if you sensed two other mages watching you. so in the hug, you slowly slid your through mash's coat and shoot a little spell from your fingers at lance and finn.

"mash, your friends have come to find you."

there was no hiding your relationship with mash anymore. and mash's friends now understand why he doesn't return her feelings to lemon, for mash burnedead already has someone to lean on.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[lqveharrington]

Buried in a Book | R.L.

summary: While you were part of the biggest friend group in Hogwarts, you’re often in your own world to even register the plans they make.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: remus being the best boyfriend in the entire world, reader feeling a little insecure, reader’s last name is rawlings (no, i didn’t realize how close it was to rowling until later 😞)

a/n: someone spam message me to finish my coryo series please 😭🙏

One of the best things about being in Gryffindor were the people you made friends with. From rule-breakers — such as James and Sirius — to heavy rule followers — Lily Evans herself — it was so diverse. You could throw pranks with the marauders while being a prefect. By the end of sixth year, the group was tight knit and it seemed as if nothing could ever ruin it.

But there was one thing they would typically forget about with their rambunctious nature. They always forgot about you in their plans. It wasn’t as if they did it intentionally. No, it was because you were always off in your own world, and when they made plans you didn’t hear them. Usually one of the girls would tell you, or your loving boyfriend, but you felt awful every time.

Today was no exception.

Sirius and Marlene made plans to Hogsmeade during breakfast for the weekend. And of course the rest of the group seconded that call and hurriedly ate their food to prepare for the trip. Being oblivious to everything that was happening, you continued to read your novel until Remus cleared his throat as a small warning.

Hearing this, you put a finger to your last sentence and looked up at him, eyebrows knitting up in confusion at the lack of noise coming from around you. “Where did they all go?”

“They made plans for Hogsmeade about…” He looked down at his watch, tapping it softly. “… Five minutes ago.”

He stacked the plates surrounding their area, your eyes watching his movements in silence. You thought you were listening to them this morning, but the last thing you heard before you got fully immersed was the next prank Sirius wanted to pull on Severus Snape.

Frowning, you carefully put your bookmark into your book and leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder, voice coming out quiet. “I didn’t realize.”

Remus wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple for assurance. “It’s okay, dovey. You were so invested in your book that I didn’t want to bother you.” He gently helped you up from the bench and pulled your closer to him, his slender fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder. “Besides, I get to have quality time with my best girl.”

A soft smile graced your lips at his comment, but a small part of your mind was eating at you. What if they were talking about something important and Remus wasn’t there to tell you about it? You guessed the girls would, but you would bet they would forget to tell you before you realized they left you.

“Is there anyway specific they asked us to meet then?” You murmured as you entered the Gryffindor common room where only a young first year was sitting by the fire and reading a muggle book.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” He played with the ends on your hair as he pulled around to face you properly. He twisted the ends and watched them unfurl until meeting your eyes.

You looked up and shook your head in amusement as you both said “The Three Broomsticks” at the same time. You scrunched your nose and smiled again when he kissed your forehead as a short parting gesture.

By the time you left the common rooms and made it to The Three Broomsticks, they were just leaving, causing another wave of guilt pass through you.

“There you two are! We were wondering when the both of you would make it.” Sirius pushed in between the both of you to wrap his arms around yours and Remus’ shoulders. “You guys missed out on Evans chugging down her butterbeer because Dorcas dared her.”

You blinked and looked over to Lily in surprise, but the wave of guild began to crash again. “Oh, that must’ve been interesting.”

“Very.” He nudged your side softly before noticing how weary you looked. “You okay there, Rawlings?” His voice got quiet and leaned closer to you. “You and Moony didn’t… You know?”

“Godric, what is wrong with you?” You push him away and dust the invisible dirt off your side. “No, I didn’t realize you guys left us so we went back to the common room before coming here.” You roll your eyes and trudge into Honeydukes with a frown on your face.

“Just a question!” Sirius called after you and look toward Remus instead. He gave him an unimpressed look and peeled Sirius’ arm off of him, raising a brow at the man. “She knows I was joking, right?”

“She does, but she’s not in the mood.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius as well before following your steps into the candy-filled store. “And for your information, the time span between leaving us and coming here wouldn’t give us enough time to make it satisfactory.”

Sirius creased his brows in confusion before gaping at his best friend. He looked back at James in shock before watching Remus enter the store with a smirk on his face. “Never in my entire life have I heard Remus John Lupin talk about his game like that.”

You watched young wizards and witches mess with the candy from the corner of Honeydukes, fiddling with your own sweater. Well, technically it was Remus’ but he gave it to you sometime last year. But as you played with the loose thread, the same guilt came back to gnaw on your feelings.

It was fine when it was only you missing out on the unplanned fun, but when Remus misses out on fun that he could’ve seen made you upset beyond belief. You didn’t think your own behavior could affect Remus this badly. And it’s not like Sirius helped when he asked about you and Remus.

“Dove?” Remus rounded the corner and found you biting the end of your thumbnail, making him sigh. He gently pulled your hand away and met your eyes. “What’s wrong, dovey?”

“Nothing.” You mumbled, wiping your hand on your sweater. You grimaced at the feeling but looked at Remus with solemn eyes. “Where’s the rest of them?”

He laced his hand with yours, squeezing it softly. “They went to Tomes and Scrolls. I think they’re buying gifts? I’m not to sure.”

You frowned, “When did they say that?”

“They didn’t. They were just heading in that direction when I left them.” He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles. He watched your glazed eyes blink to get rid of the wet. “Talk to me, my love.”

You raised both brows at the name and felt your face warm. It was rare for him to call you his love, so everytime it made you feel like a child in a candy store, which was technically half true given the setting.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of annoying I zone in and out of our conversations with that whole group?” You finally spoke after a good second, fiddling with his fingers in anticipation for his answer. “We never get to do anything fun or on time because of me, and I’m not too sure why you still bother with me because of it—“

“Dovey,” Remus gave you a small smile, tilting his head down fully to speak only loud enough for you. “Do you really think I care what we miss with them? As long as I have you with me, I couldn’t care less.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “Don’t you want to hate me just a little bit?”

“Never.” He kissed your head. “Why would I ever hate you for your quirk? I think it’s cute that you get to immersed in your own world when reading. And you know why I love it so much?”

“Why?” You smile and tilt your head up to perfectly meet his own tilted head.

“Because then I get to hear all about what happens from your beautiful voice.” Remus grinned his wolfish grin, adjusting the sweater you have on. “So don’t worry too much about me missing out on those pricks because they don’t talk about anything worthwhile.”

You roll your eyes and let out a noise of surprise when he softly connects his waiting lips to yours. Instantly, you melt and return the kiss with equal passion before breaking apart, smiling giddily at him.

“What was that for?” You lay your cheek on his shoulder as shyness took over your body, especially with so many people around you both.

“Just love you.” He thumbed your waist now, nudging his chin onto your head softly. “And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[yappingwitch]

Say It Ain't So

pairing - Virgin!James Potter x fem!reader

summary - James busts a fat one. Porn with glimpses of plot. Maybe.

warnings - 18+ mdni, smut, awkwardness, James is a desperate virgin in this one, hence the weezer title, premature ejaculation, handjob (m receiving), one sided enemies to ???, slight m sub/f dom dynamics if you squint, legs

wordcount - 1.6k

disclaimer - english is my second language. Don't hesitate to correct me!

You hated James Potter.

Your dislike well-known among your friends, none of them dared to ever mention him anymore, fearing another long-winded rant from you. Remembering when the lot of you would stay up after curfew, sharing gossip and talking about your crushes. All of them gasped when you casually shared your feelings about the headboy after they spent what felt like hours gushing about him. Proceeding to list of every single thing wrong with the guy, making your friends regret ever bringing him up.

Did he have beautiful curly hair you just wanted to run your fingers through? Brilliant hazel eyes in which mischief was ever-present? Pretty plump lips, his slightly crooked, overly confident smirk always on them? Well, yes, you could admit that much. But as soon as he opened his mouth, you couldn’t care less about how pretty it was. He'd always disrupt the lessons, the golden boy having no filter or capability to raise his hand, always yelling the answers out or talking loudly with his posse during dinner, unable to control his volume and barely having to face any consquences for his obnoxious nature.

So when Slughorn, who aside from his quirky nature, you quite liked, decided to pair you both together for the last project of the year, you were fuming. At least internally. Your prideful nature and pureblood customs instilled in you by your parents forced you to keep a blank face, only briefly smiling at the teacher when he uttered your name after James', swallowing your rage.

Shortly after class ended, as you were packing your things after quickly finishing your notes, you suddenly heard one of the old wooden chairs in front of you creak. Looking up at the noise, you saw a certain Gryffindor already staring back, a stupid smirk on his face like always, the air of confidence around him ever-present.

“So…,” James started absent-mindedly going through your notes, but you quickly interrupted whatever he was about to say.

“I’ll take care of the project by myself. Can’t have you messing up my grades,” you simply stated, ripping your notes from his hands, frowning at the way he had smudged the last of your sentence. Ignoring your frown, he loudly exclaimed, “Hey! My grades are stellar.” He tapped his finger against his chest, where his perfect badge was. “They don’t give them away for nothing, you know?”

“I also don’t like you,” you said after a moment of silence, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder, quickly walking out.

But he wouldn't let up, following you all the way to the Great Hall, pestering you until you finally snapped right by the Slytherin table.

“Saturday, library, after lunch. No word from you until then,” you almost yelled, your face twisting in anger. Noticing the other Slytherins' snickers, you quickly composed yourself, swallowing your anger. He, oblivious as always, smiled widely, ignoring your state and simply basking in the glory of having won this little duel of words.

Saturday approached faster than you would’ve liked, dreading the obnoxious boy's presence already. But you approached the surprisingly empty library anyway, not one to go back on your word. You frowned slightly, looking around, realizing even the librarian must have taken the day off. Sighing, you called out to James; he was already there, notes and textbooks scattered about. He quickly jumped up from his chair, beaming like always, until his gaze drifted down, his usual aura of self-assurance dwindling a little.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, mouth hanging slightly agape.

You looked down; you were wearing a simple skirt and long-sleeved top, not too different from what you usually wore in your free time. Confused, you lifted your head again, his gaze quickly following, being previously trained on your bare legs. Realizing he had been caught, a blush appeared on his cheeks as he plopped unceremoniously down, coughing awkwardly and focusing on the books laying before him.

“Weirdo,” you stated, disinterest evident, just wanting this project to be over with. But what you saw once you reached the table he was sitting at piqued your interest suddenly. Looking down, a prominent bulge had formed in the front of his pants, straining against the material. A book was quickly tossed over it, but it was too late.

“You’re such a skeeze. Who gets hard from looking at a girl's legs?” you asked, amused, not really expecting an answer, just continuing to stare him down, enjoying watching the high-and-mighty golden boy begin to tremble under your intense gaze.

“..they are your legs,” he mumbled, blush only deepening as his eyes stayed glued to the table.

This made you laugh out loud, gasping for air.

“Are you a virgin or something? Bloody hell,” you huffed out between laughs, a single tear escaping your eye at the comical twist your day had taken.

James didn't reply, groaning in embarrassment and continuing to hold the book tightly over his lap.

“Cat got your tongue?” you said, still smirking but finally having calmed down. “I didn’t even know you were capable of zipping it.”

This seemed to push him over the edge; he picked up his bag and shoved everything in with lightning speed, until suddenly he froze, hearing your next sentence.

“I can help you out if you want,” you said, a mischievous smile adorning your pretty face, putting his own to shame.

All he got out was a quick “huh,” as you pounced, wordlessly pushing him back down onto the chair. He looked up through his glasses, his eyes wide, the cute blush still evident on his face. Fuck.

“You are so pretty,” you whispered aloud before pressing your mouth against his. Short and sweet. It was almost romantic, the way he gently started to move his mouth and the lovestruck look on his face once you pulled away.

He eagerly leaned forward again, knocking his nose against yours before trying again, this time slower, aiming properly while the book he had previously clenched in his lap dropped to the floor with a thud. He opted to instead take hold of your hips, almost moaning at the feeling of the warmth of your skin touching his, slightly poking out from the bottom of your shirt. You, in turn, moved your hand that gripped the curls at the back of his neck slowly down his chest, delicate fingers grasping at the painful bulge in his pants. This made James quickly pull away, a loud moan leaving his now reddened lips as he grasped your wrist, stopping your movement.

“I-” he gasped out. “I-I’m waiting for the right person.”

He regretted talking the second the words left his mouth, seeing you roll your eyes at him, laughing a little at the bizarre turn of events, moving to remove your hand nonetheless.

He quickly went to grasp at your wrist again, pulling it toward his crotch once more, his body moving on its own.

“You need to make up your mind, pretty boy,” you said softly, looking at him amused.

“You know…,” you started after he continued to be silent, he in turn looked up at you through his lashes, blushing, his glasses a little crooked and a dorky smile on his lips, hearing your voice again. “Maybe I’m not the right person… but… I could be your right hand,” you finished, slightly averting your eyes, cringing at your words.

He didn't notice, though, too lost in need for release; he eagerly nodded his head. You laughed a little, removing his grip on your arm and moving to open the Gryffindor's trousers, just enough for you to pull his now hard member out, precum already coating his tip, while pressing another sweet kiss to his lips. Disconnecting from him once more, you lifted your right hand, holding it up to James' face expectantly.

“Spit,” you commanded, and the boy obliged without a second thought.

One long, loud moan left his mouth as your hand slowly moved against his cock, brushing your thumb over the head, gently mixing the precum with his spit, spreading it all over his length. You moved to press kisses to his bobbing throat, his head thrown back in pleasure, as you started to move your hand up and down in a steady rhythm, sucking a small purple spot onto his neck, his gasps and groans only getting louder.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” James repeated over and over like a prayer, lost in pleasure. You lifted your head, stopping your assault on his neck, to look at his scrunched-up face, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open. You couldn't help but stare, the glaring noon sun shining in through the stained glass and making his skin almost appear to glow, colors of the rainbow dancing around his face, sweat bullets forming on his forehead like little diamonds. Fuck. He really was—

“Pretty,” you mumbled, pushing James over the edge-a string of curses leaving him as he came undone over your hand, specks of it staining your skirt all the way to your pretty legs, the reason all of this started in the first place.

He continued to gasp, trying to catch his breath and gasping out apologies for the mess. You silently tugged him back into his pants, amused at the wet spot adorning his own lower half.

You wiped your hand on his pants before zipping him up. Wordlessly, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, swiftly turning around, ready to go take a shower after the ordeal.

“Wait,” you paused in your steps, glancing back at James. “D-do… you… want… to,” he started, before pausing again, finally catching his breath. “Do you want to go to Hogsmeade… with me?”

You glanced ahead, continuing on your path without replying to the desperate boy, only flashing him a quick smirk.

Maybe you didn't hate him after all.

[archermind]

I Can See You

Spencer Reid x F!Reader - Smut (18+)

Description: “and we kept everything professional but something changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best if we move fast and keep quiet.”. You and Spencer are each other's dirty little secret, no one in the BAU knows what is going on between you both.

Word count: 1,800 approx.

Content Warning: Mentions of f!masturbation, kissing, PinV, Receiving Oral F, swearing, Fingering, dom!spencer, good girl, dirty talk

author note: okay.. so i tried writing a smut. idk how i feel about it. i read smut and think the things people write are really good but when i write it i always think it’s so bad. i hope it isn’t too bad. feel free to give me feedback! hope you enjoy <3

Stolen glances and longing stares, that was how this all started. You and Spencer found yourselves sneaking between each other's hotel rooms while on cases, searching for comfort in a form of lust. The first time was supposed to be a one time thing… never to happen again. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself… you longed for his touch and he longed for yours. Your mind is forever replaying the first moment he made, the way he-

“Earth to Y/N!” Derek announced, waving his hands in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry” you mumbled, realizing your zoning out and complete oblivious state to the world around you.

“What has gotten into you girl” Derek scoffed

“More like who!” emily remarked, causing JJ to snicker “we have seen that extra pep in your step lately Y/N”

You shifted in your seat becoming anxious that people were going to crack onto what was going on between you and Reid. Everyday you were nervous to even look in Reid’s direction… It didn't help that everyone that surrounded you both were some of the best profilers you know. You rolled your eyes putting on a confident facade and prepared your fighting argument against Emily’s wrong, but so right, speculation. 

“Right everyone let’s just focus on the case” Hotch ordered, “Agent Y/N’s love life will just have to remain a mystery for you all until you solve this one”

“Oh c'mon Hotch, you are supposed to be on my side!” you called out desperately as everyone laughed, “i am reporting you all to HR for bullying on the job!”

“Boohoo babygirl!” Morgan said, pouting.

Throughout the rest of the flight you all spoke about the case, trying to build a profile upon the characteristics of the murder. Words like sadist and sociopath were thrown around while you yet again zoned out, this time focused on Reid and his soft snores. You had woken up, naked, to the sound of his snores a couple times now. Each time was just as good as the last. You found yourself counting down the time until you landed, wishing the minutes would go by fast. 

-

Landing came by painfully and slowly. Some time before the flight landed, Spencer had woken up. He seemed shifty and irritated. Not to mention, he could not take his eyes off of you. You felt yourself become more and more needy for him with every passing second. Clock watching made it worse. 

By the time you all arrived at the hotel that you were staying at, it was midnight. Everyone had no energy. The goodbyes and goodnights were a mix of mumbles and grumbles. Your room was right down the hall from Spencer. Emily and JJ across the hall, Morgan next door to Reid, and Hotch was one floor above us all. A dim pale yellow light tried to light the room as you walked through to the bathroom, a hot soak was well needed. Today had seemed to be so long and exhausting.

As you plunged yourself into the bubbles and warmth, you leant back allowing yourself to relax in the tub. Soap suds covered your body as you massaged your aching muscles. You moaned at the release you felt, free from tension that ached your body. As you were massaging your sore body, you felt your mind racing back to Dr. Spencer Reid and your hand inching further to the place you wanted him right now. As your hand grazed your core, you heard a ping to your phone. 

You sighed as the moment had been rudely interrupted and ruined. You grabbed your robe, exiting the tub and putting it over your body. Grasping your phone, your stomach fluttered. ‘Spence’. ‘I need you Y/N’. you bit back a smirk, knowing what was about to happen. ‘Don’t let them see you..’ you responded back. 

Quickly, you ran to the door ready to let the man you wanted most into your hotel room. It was scandalous and thrilling sneaking around with him. It was what you both needed while dealing with stressful cases. A source of release.. Mentally and physically. 

As you opened the door, the slender built boy slipped past quickly into the room to avoid being seen and perhaps questioned as to why he was entering his co-workers' hotel room at 1am. You closed the door silently and instantly you were pressed against it. Spencer’s lips fit yours perfectly. You felt his wet tongue swipe along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It was heated and vulgar. The desperation for each other was filthy. Your tongues played war with each other until like always Spencer won dominance. You were like a putty in his hands, allowing him to take control of your every movement. 

“You don't understand how beautiful you looked all day” spencer rambled, “i've been wanting to get you alone and worship your body since i first laid eyes on you this morning” 

You moaned at his sweet nothings, moving your lips to trail down his neck as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. You were eager to rid him of his clothes, eager for him. As your hand went down each button, you slowly freed him out of his shirt. You gasped, running your hands along his chest and to his lower abdomen. 

“I have missed you spence” you stated, breathlessly. 

He slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, peppering kisses around your face. You giggled at the childish move but felt adored. Slowly, he lowered you to lie on the bed and hooked his arms around your legs giving you a strong tug to the edge of the bed. 

“Trust me, Y/N not as much as i missed you doll” he smirked, undoing the tie on your robe. 

Your chest rose and fell fast. You lay there in front of him naked and for the taking. Allowing him to see the most vulnerable and insecure side of yourself. He slowly lowered himself allowing his mouth to come in contact with your soft skin. Spencer kissed and nipped with his teeth, your most sensitive areas. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your breasts. You couldn't help but let the moans fall from your lips. He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.

Spencer caressed your left breast pinching your nipple. all while he licked, sucked and bit the right one. You felt wetness pool at your core. All. For. Him. slowly, you felt his nose brush down your abdomen as the pit of your stomach flipped. No matter how many late nights you spent together and how much you prepared yourself, you still got nervous when giving yourself to spencer. Even if he was cautious and gentle.

You squirmed and wriggled as you felt his hot breath on your clit. You were dripping with anticipation at this point. Spencer began to kiss each thigh, slowly working his way closer to the place you wanted him most. Soon enough, Spencer pressed his lips against your clit licking and biting. Slowly, he circled his tongue against your clit as you became more and more sensitive with each lap. Your hand tangled in his brown curls, causing him to moan in response. You cried out in pleasure as he inserted two fingers into you and began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. 

“Fuck spencer” you breathed out.

“Does that feel good Y/N?” he questioned you, already knowing the answer from the way you were a mess below him. 

“Mhm” you mumbled. 

Spencer pulled away from your clit and took his fingers out from with you, gripping your thighs and turning you on your stomach. You heard his zipper become undone. You looked back and bit your bottom lip suppressing a moan as you saw him in nothing but his underwear. You could see his hard bulge and it made you even more desperate for him.

“Look at you so needy!” Spencer whispered, grabbing a condom from his jean pocket. 

You eyed him up and down as his teeth ripped the small packet open. 

“Hurry… im so fucking desperate” you were a wreck as you tried to speak your wants, “i do need you spencer” 

“Good girls wait” he remarked

You watched him slowly slide the rubber on his hard length, he held a strong eye contact with yours. Enjoying the way you watched him, eagerly waiting for him. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress your moans - considering your co-workers were just down the hall and above you. You hissed in pleasure and pain when Spencer unexpectedly forced his entire length into you without warning. 

It was raw and animalistic the way you both wanted eachother, needed eachother and fucked eachother. Spencer Reid was a quiet boy. Yet, who you now grew to know and spend time with, you saw him in a much different light. He was a gentle, passionate man who adored and cared for you. Reid didnt just use you for sex… he worshipped your body while he fucked you. 

The room was filled with the sound of your breathless moans and the sound of your skin meeting each other. Spencer was deep inside you and with every stroke he made in and out of you, you grew closer to your release. 

“You feel so fucking good Y/N” spencer moaned as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to watch your face as he fucked you senseless. 

You tried responding but you were a moaning mess. No words could be formed. You were drunk on Spencer’s cock. With every thrust, your tits bounced, sending Spencer's mind on a spiral. 

“You look so fucking good taking my cock, doll” spencer exclaimed, as his hand connected with your clit rubbing small quick circles. 

You felt your stomach ball as you grew closer to your orgasm. You cried in pleasure as he thrusted deeper and slower, hitting your g-spot each time. 

“I- fuck- please spence” you begged him growing more sensitive to his touch and nearing your finish. 

“I know Y/N” he grunted as he entered in and out of you, feeling closer to his orgasm each time, “cum for me” 

You cried out at your release, digging your nails down Spencer's back for some stability on the edge of your pleasure. Your ears rang out from the overwhelming stimulation, while Spencer rode out to his orgasm. It came quickly as he collapsed tired and breathless onto your chest. Time passed as you two lay tangled within each other's arms, trying to calm down from your high.

“Y/N?” he questioned

“Yea” you huffed out

“I’m glad you joined the Quantico BAU team” he stated letting out a breathy laugh

“Yeah me too” you smirked, “the benefits are pretty good too.”

[thedensworld]

Taste Me | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, fluff

Summary: Can't friends taste each other? Seungcheol didn't know the answer. But he was certain that it'll be fair only if he could also taste you.

(I) heard you back together and if that's true, you'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you - Taste by Sabrina Carpenter.

Seungcheol couldn’t quite grasp what he was feeling right now. No matter how hard he tried, sleep wouldn’t come. The image of you crying earlier today haunted him, replaying in his mind. Your voice trembled as you confessed, breaking down in front of him.

"I feel like trash. I feel unworthy and stupid!"

It hit him like a punch to the gut. This was his fault. He was the one who introduced you to Jeonghan, one of his closest friends. Jeonghan was a good guy, and Seungcheol hadn’t thought twice about it. He believed you'd be in good hands. But what he failed to consider was that Jeonghan had just broken up with his ex only two months prior. Seungcheol had been oblivious to the signs—how Jeonghan had used you as a temporary escape, a second choice until his ex decided to take him back.

Your voice echoed in his mind again.

"I saw them kissing in his car when I was trying to fix everything... Why is this happening to me?"

The weight of your pain sat heavily on Seungcheol’s chest. You and Jeonghan had been dating for three months, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect. He genuinely believed you were happy. But then, out of nowhere, Jeonghan had told him one night that you both decided to go your separate ways. Seungcheol hadn’t pried for details. He didn’t ask why. Instead, he had foolishly apologized to Jeonghan, thinking it was you who had caused the breakup.

Now, as he lay awake in the silence of his room, guilt gnawed at him. How had he missed it? How had he misjudged his own friend? Seungcheol realized too late that he should have been there for you, and not assumed that Jeonghan had been blameless. The thought of you hurting because of his oversight made his stomach twist.

He closed his eyes, but all he could see was your tear-streaked face, your broken voice, and the weight of your words. He owed you more than just an apology. He owed you understanding.

Seungcheol stood waiting in front of your office building, checking the time on his phone. Your shift ended at 5, and he figured a nice dinner might help lift your spirits. When you finally emerged from the entrance, your eyes landed on him, and he could see the surprise on your face.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" you asked, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

"Wanna go to our spot?" Seungcheol asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was referring to the little Chinese restaurant you two had frequented since your college days.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

Seungcheol, a freelance photographer, had known you since university when you worked together on a project during your final year. You, a fashion journalist now, hadn’t expected the friendship to last this long, but here you were—still close, still dependable.

Dinner was quiet but comfortable. The usual chatter was replaced by something heavier, unspoken but felt in the air between you two. As you both left the restaurant, Seungcheol walked beside you in silence before finally mumbling, "I’m sorry."

You stopped, turning your head towards him, eyebrows raised in confusion, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

Clearing his throat, Seungcheol added, "You've been through a lot because of me. I feel terrible about it. I should’ve seen what was happening with Jeonghan sooner. I’m really sorry."

You nodded slowly, the understanding clear in your eyes. "It’s about the other night, isn’t it?" you asked, referring to the night you called him, drunk and heartbroken, from a bar. He had picked you up, and in your haze, you had told him everything about Jeonghan—the cheating, the lies, the hurt.

"I should be the one apologizing," you said quietly. "I shouldn’t have called you like that."

Seungcheol shook his head immediately, waving his hands dismissively. "No, call me anytime. That’s what friends are for, right?"

After that night, life resumed its usual pace. You and Seungcheol continued as normal friends—occasional texts here and there, but your meetings became less frequent. That was until one day when Seungcheol showed up at your new apartment to help with the furniture. You had just moved into a bigger place, and he was putting the finishing touches on a cupboard while you sorted through boxes of clothes.

As you carried over a box, Seungcheol noticed something familiar—the colors and fabrics, the oversized sweaters, and a couple of t-shirts that clearly weren’t yours.

"Those are Jeonghan’s, aren’t they?" he asked, unable to hide the hint of irritation in his voice.

You glanced at the clothes and smiled, a touch of irony in your expression. "Yeah, they are. I found out men's clothes are way more comfortable when I was dating him."

Seungcheol felt a strange tightening in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but the fact that you still had Jeonghan’s clothes didn’t sit right with him. It boiled something inside him that he didn’t know was there.

"Why haven’t you thrown them out?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

You shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "Honestly? I kinda want his new girlfriend to wonder where half his wardrobe disappeared to."

For a moment, Seungcheol was taken aback by your response, but then he couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his own face. He liked how you were handling things—turning the pain into something lighter, almost humorous. It was clever and strong in its own way.

Maybe, Seungcheol thought, he could learn a thing or two from you about how to deal with heartbreak. He didn’t quite understand the shift in his feelings, but one thing was becoming clear—he was starting to like the way you handled the world, and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to see you in a different light.

"Throw them, i get you mine." Seungcheol told you and you squealed, excited to get his expensive wardrobe.

*

You still couldn’t fully process what had happened back at the restaurant during your university magazine club reunion. Seungcheol and you had gone together, and to your surprise, Jeonghan was there too, accompanying his girlfriend Jinah, who was also a member of the club back in the same year as you.

Everything had been going well—casual conversations, light laughter—until Jinah dropped an unexpected bombshell, her voice laced with bitterness.

"So, Y/N dated my boyfriend back then."

The entire table fell silent. You felt every pair of eyes turn toward you. Jeonghan's expression shifted immediately, his lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze darted between you and Jinah. You chose not to respond, not wanting to escalate things. But Seungcheol, ever the protective friend, didn’t hesitate to jump in. He stood up, his voice cutting through the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the group.

"Or maybe," Seungcheol said, his eyes locked on Jinah, "it was you who was dating her boyfriend?"

A collective gasp went through the room as whispers filled the air. You could feel the tension thickening as everyone processed the implication. Jeonghan's face darkened, his brow furrowing.

"Did you just insinuate that I cheated on her?" Jeonghan’s voice was low, controlled, but there was a threat behind it.

Seungcheol smirked, his anger barely concealed. "You didn’t?"

And before anyone could react, fists flew. Tables clattered, chairs scraped against the floor, and suddenly the reunion turned into chaos. You found yourself driving Seungcheol’s car back to your apartment, his knuckles bloodied, and his anger still simmering in the passenger seat.

"I can’t believe I was friends with that bastard," Seungcheol spat, staring out of the window as his chest rose and fell with fury. "You dated him, Y/N? I could’ve been the better man!"

You glanced at him, trying to calm him down. "Yes, Seungcheol. Let’s get inside and treat your wounds before we talk about this."

You parked the car and led him into your apartment. His hand was bleeding from punching the table, and you could tell he had tried to restrain himself from hitting Jeonghan. But the moment Jeonghan touched him first, Seungcheol had lost all control.

"Does it hurt?" you asked softly, reaching up to touch his bruised cheek.

He shook his head, still scowling. "I should’ve hit him a hundred times."

You chuckled, pressing an ice cloth to his cheek. "Take it easy, you gave him enough of a lesson, baby boy."

Seungcheol relaxed slightly as you tended to him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently rubbed the crease in his furrowed brow. "Thanks," you whispered, appreciating how fiercely he had defended you. He let out a long sigh, the anger slowly ebbing away.

"Why didn’t you say anything to her?" Seungcheol asked, his voice quieter now, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "You just let her talk. You didn’t defend yourself."

You tilted your head, your eyes meeting his. "No words needed," you replied, your tone calm. "She tastes me every time she kisses him."

Seungcheol took a sharp breath, your words sinking deep. He suddenly realized just how close his face was to yours. His breath hitched, and so did yours. You both froze, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you. His eyes lingered on your face, and you could feel your heartbeat quicken.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked, blinking and blushing at the intensity of his stare.

Seungcheol shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No… I just… I feel like I want to kiss you right now."

Your breath caught in your throat. The ice cloth in your hand slipped and fell, but Seungcheol was quick to catch it—and your hand. He placed the cloth back in your grip, but his eyes never left yours. Slowly, his hands moved to your cheeks, his touch gentle, his thumbs grazing your skin softly.

"It’s unfair," Seungcheol murmured, his voice low and husky. "If they can taste you… but I can’t."

Your heart raced as the tension between you became almost unbearable. You shifted slightly, uncertain but not resisting. "Aren’t we just friends?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol’s lashes fluttered as he gazed at you, his breath warm against your skin. "Can’t friends taste each other?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours softly, testing, waiting. The kiss was gentle at first, a mere whisper of a touch, but when you responded, moving your lips against his, Seungcheol immediately deepened the kiss, pulling you closer.

In that moment, you realized you wanted this, too. You wanted him.

Seungcheol stood up from the couch, his hands sliding around your waist as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. The tension between you two thickened, electric in the air, as Seungcheol gently flipped you onto the couch, his body hovering above yours, trapping you beneath him in a way that made your heart race.

"You make me crazy," Seungcheol whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft kisses along the curve of your neck. His hands roamed the contours of your body, setting fire to every inch they touched. A soft moan escaped your lips, spurring him on.

He paused just long enough to pull off his T-shirt and toss it aside before finding his way back to you. His lips crashed against yours, hungry and desperate, as if kissing you was the only thing that mattered.

In between heated kisses, he mumbled, "I can't believe we're making out."

You broke the kiss just enough to look into his eyes, your breath coming in short gasps. His gaze was intense, almost burning into yours.

"I've been wanting this." You confessed, your voice soft but fillfilled with the weight of your desire.

Seungcheol eyes darkened, flickering with something raw and deep. His grips on your waist tightened slightly, his lips parted as he gazed at you, completely captivated by you. In that moment, unspoken tension that had simmered between you both for so long was finally released, and there was no turning back.

Seungcheol's eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity between you growing as he leaned in again, his lips brushing softly against your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through you, and you arched slightly under his touch.

His hands moved lower, grazing your sides, his fingertips tracing over your skin as if memorizing every inch. There was a desperation in the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for far too long. You could feel his heartbeat quickening, matching your own.

The weight of him against you, the heat of his skin—it was all overwhelming, intoxicating in the best way. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was pulling you deeper into something you’d both been avoiding for so long. But now, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts—just the raw, undeniable connection between you two that had finally come to the surface.

Seungcheol’s lips moved back to yours, the kiss deepening, more passionate, as his hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, letting yourself fully give in to the moment.

He pulled away briefly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His voice was soft but serious. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the tenderness in his tone. You nodded, your hand reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. "I’ve never been more sure."

That was all the reassurance he needed. Seungcheol’s lips crashed onto yours again, more fiercely this time, his hands pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. The air between you sizzled, filled with the heat of long-buried feelings finally set free.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just you and him, and the realization that this was exactly where you were both meant to be.

*

"Hey, love," Seungcheol greeted you warmly as you slid into the passenger seat of his car. Without hesitation, he leaned in to press a kiss against your lips, a sweet and familiar gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter.

You had just finished work, and Seungcheol had promised to drive you home so you could make dinner together. After the kiss, you pulled back slightly to put on your seatbelt, but you noticed Seungcheol still staring at you, his eyes lingering on your face with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked, raising a brow in question. Instead of answering, he smirked, licking his lips.

Realizing some of your lip gloss had transferred to his mouth, you quickly reached over to wipe it off, laughing softly as you did.

"You taste different today," Seungcheol remarked, his voice playful yet low. "Where's my strawberry lips?" he teased, glancing at you as he started the car and pulled out onto the road.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I switched it up—went for cherry this time."

Seungcheol grinned at your response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Cherry, huh? Well, I hope I’m the only one getting to taste this new flavor."

You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned back in your seat. "You are. And you're the only one who’s ever going to."

His grin widened, looking like the lovesick fool he was. "Then kiss me a lot today, so I get used to it," he added, eyes briefly flickering your way before returning to the road.

There was a new rhythm between you, something that felt right, natural—like it had been waiting to happen all along. You both knew that the line between friendship and love had been crossed in the most beautiful way possible. There was no going back, and neither of you wanted to.

This was where you belonged—together.

[changetyre]

Big Sister Ⓢ

SUMMARY: Max and y/n navigate through telling Lea she'll be a big sister and meeting Ivy. Part of Verstappen Family verse

WARNINGS: None? Pregnancy, Birth.

A/N: *Requested

"Lea baby can you come here a second?" You sat down with your husband on the couch in the living room where your daughter happily played on the carpet.  

"You start." Max quickly whispered. 

You both had been discussing for a while how you were going to tell Lea she was a big sister, it seemed like the news couldn't come at a worse time since Lea was having a faze of being extremely possessive of her parents, and even watching Max play with other drivers kids made her sob in anger. 

So the thought of telling Lea she would now have to permanently share her parents for the rest of her life didn't seem like the best news to tell her. 

"Mommy come play?" Lea whined instead of listening. 

"Lea please come here we can play in a second," Max repeated firmly. 

Lea knew this meant it was a last warning for her to listen and reluctantly got up to go to her parents. 

"Papa up." Lea tapped Max's lap. 

Max picked his daughter up before setting her down on his lap facing the both of them. 

"So Lea, Papa, and I have some news to share with you okay?" You watched as your daughter nodded fiddling with her dad's fingers obviously oblivious to what was to come. 

"Lea you know how much we love you right?" Max asked his daughter. 

"More than life!" Lea cheered happily used to hearing it from you both. 

"Exactly and you know nothing will ever change how much we love you right? Because you'll always be my baby Lea." You added. 

Lea nodded still keeping her gaze down to her fiddling hands. 

"Okay, you can tell us how you feel about it Lea but there's no need for you to throw a tantrum okay?" Max asked his daughter who nodded once again. 

"Okay Lea mommy is pregnant okay...which means you're gonna be a big sister soon." You laid it all out. 

Both you and Max held your breaths expecting a big reaction from your daughter...she continued fiddling with her dad's fingers and Max was about to ask if she had even heard before Lea shrugged. "Okay." she simply said. 

Both you and Max shared a look of uncertainty, she didn't look either angry or happy, she was just...indifferent.

"Lea, do you understand there will be some changes soon?" Max asked his daughter. 

"Yeah, uhm but Papa I want to keep my cars...I can share dolls but not cars." Lea casually chatted with her dad. 

"uh yeah okay." Max was unsure of how to reply. "That's okay I think baby won't be able to play until she's a little older but thank you for sharing your dolls." Max looked at you as if asking for some guidance to which you shrugged. 

You both had prepared for any big reaction but had no idea what to do with this calmness. 

"Okay...good job Mommy." Lea placed a kiss on your cheek before hopping down from her father's lap. "Can I go play now?" Lea asked to which you both nodded unsure of what else to say. 

____________________

"Max" You shook Max awake after spending the last hour walking around in pain and timing your contractions, figuring out if it was finally time or not but once it got too painful to move you knew it was time to wake up your husband. 

"y/n?" Max muttered sleepily. 

"Max it's time." You voiced the seriousness of the situation. 

"Mhm, it's time." Max readjusted his sleeping position before settling to sleep again. You looked at your husband confused before he jumped out of bed. "OMG IT'S TIME?!" He asked loudly now wide awake as he faced you and placed a hand on your stomach watching you groan in pain at another contraction. 

"Shush you're gonna wake Lea, Let's go...I texted the boys, Lando should be here any minute." You told Max as he rushed to get some sweats and a hoodie on. You had made a plan that once it was time you'd let Daniel and Lando know so that they could stay with Lea while you and Max headed to the hospital. 

Max ran to grab your hospital bags before rushing to grab the car keys and a other few things before helping you into some more comfortable clothes all while reminding you to do the breathing techniques you'd learnt. 

As if on queue Lando rushed in with his emergency keys. "Lea is asleep we're headed out now." Max kept his voice down. 

"Okay, good luck, text me." Lando hugged his friend and then placed a quick kiss on your cheek before you both headed out. 

Once at the hospital thankfully everything was quick and straightforward, unlike your first pregnancy where the birth took a little longer than you would've liked. It only took a few hours before you and Max were holding your newborn baby girl in your arms. 

"She's so perfect." you sniffled as you looked down at your baby girl who took hold of your finger with her tiny hand. 

"She really is." Max wiped his own tears, it always amazed Max how he felt like he physically had no more love to give between his wife and daughter but looking at his newborn it was like his love expanded a thousandfold. 

Max was distracted by the sound of his phone ringing looking down and seeing a FaceTime call from Lando. 

"Hey is everything okay?" Max answered worried about how his now older daughter might be coping now that she should be waking up. 

"Yeah, Lea wants to know her mommy is okay, I tried to distract her but she won't eat breakfast unless she knows her mom is fine," Lando explained as Max heard his daughter crying in the background. 

Max looked at you asking for your permission, you quickly nodded and Max brought the phone towards you being careful not to show your bare chest. "Hey." Lando gasped in awe seeing the newborn in your arms. 

He almost got too distracted before remembering he was meant to pass the phone to Lea. Walking towards her he pointed the screen to a crying Lea who quickly calmed at seeing her mom with her new baby sister. 

"Lea baby meet Ivy." You spoke softly to your daughter. 

Lea was entranced by the baby in your arms. "Hi Ivy...I'm Lea your big sister." Lea spoke softly matching your tone. 

Ivy cooed making your heart swell at your two daughters communicating. "I think she wants to meet you, baby." You smiled. "Are you okay my darling? We'll be home soon okay." You reassured Lea. 

"I'm okay mommy, Danny said he'd bring me doughnuts." Lea smiled brightly, Max couldn't help but laugh at his best friend's behavior knowing it was always a danger to leave Lea alone with her godfather. 

"Of course, he will..." you laughed too. "Lando?" 

"Yep." Lando popped back on the screen immediately smiling down at a now happy and calm Lea. 

"Max wants to ask you something." You winked before gesturing for Max to turn the phone back around. 

"Hey, man...uh." Max scratched the back of his neck nervously never really being good with sentiments. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to be Ivy's godfather?" Max asked his friend a decision that seemed obvious to you when you first realized the connection Lando had with Lea and how easily you would trust him with her life just like Daniel.  

"Uh-" It was hard to gouge Lando's reaction without seeing his face. "Yeah, man...I'd love to." your heart swelled again at hearing Lando unable to hide his shaky voice as he began crying. 

"Unco Wando!" You heard Lea's concerned voice calling for him. 

"I'm okay baby, it's happy tears," Lando reassured her. 

"Papa bring momma and baby sis home soon!" Lea called for her dad. 

"I will Lea...I promise you I will." Max felt like his heart could burst surrounded by the people he loved the most.

______

"And this is Chals caw, and this is Danny's caw, OH OH this is Papa's caw!" You watched with pride as Lea showed her baby sister her toys despite the fact Ivy's eyes were shut and she was fast asleep in her baby rocking chair. 

"I love you." Your husband whispered in your ear as he walked behind you wrapping his arms around you being careful not to squeeze. 

"I love you more...and I love them like I never knew I could love before." You leaned your head back on his shoulder as you both just took in how gentle Lea was being with her sister. 

"She's going to be such a good big sister." Max smiled. 

"She already is." you acknowledged. 

"What are we gonna do about him?" Max asked as you both turned to a snoring Lando on the couch. 

"Give him a break my love he's barely slept a blink in 2 days worrying about us and looking after Lea." You felt bad for the young man. 

"hmm...he really does love us doesn't he?" Despite struggling with verbally expressing love Max knew Lando was indispensable in his life. 

"He's family." You watched as your husband laid a blanket over him. 

"Yep...he's family." he laughed before joining his two daughters in whatever game Lea had made up for them.

[misted-dream]

DOPAMINE ﹒⌗﹒💒﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 제노 + fem!reader

in which . . . you and jeno are both too secretive and oblivious for your own good.

. . . BE MY LITTLE SECRET

content&warnings | MDNI smut, profanity, fwb dynamics, reader gets picked up, stomach bulge, kinda angsty kinda fluffy, unprotected sex, idk lmk if something’s missed

word count | 3k

notes | inspired by giselle's dopamine! this kinda went off track from what i wanted but oh well!

. . . KEEP IT HUSH HUSH, BUT I THINK I’M IN LOVE

it’s not the first time you find yourself at jeno’s doorstep this late into the night—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. but it is the first time that it’s taken him this long to answer the door.

granted, you didn’t send a prior heads up like you usually do, but you didn’t plan on coming here either. you didn’t plan on being stuck outside jeno’s apartment waiting for a response that you’ve half-accepted isn’t coming.

still, you can’t bring your feet to move away from the entrance, like they’re glued to the floor.

you would be feeling ashamed right now if it wasn’t for the fact that you think you’re beyond feeling shameful tonight. which is what exactly led you here, to jeno.

and as if god took pity on you, your ‘resilience’ is rewarded when you hear shuffling from behind the door. the door creaks open and jeno stands behind it, craggy probably from being awoken well past midnight.

his hand cups the back of his neck, stretching his shoulders as he takes in who’s standing in front of him. “yn?” instinctively, his body steps to the side, allowing you space to step into his home.

the second the last syllable of your name dropped from his lips, you find yourself nothing short of lunging at him, arms wrapping tightly around jeno’s neck.

“woah,” he stumbles back, ultimately steadying himself before slowly running a hand down your back. “hey,” he murmurs softly next to your ear, “it’s okay.” his palm continues moving over you as a way of solace, gently pushing the door shut behind you simultaneously.

you didn’t notice how quick he was to offer comfort; not even knowing what ‘it’ was before telling you that it was alright.

you stay wrapped around jeno for what you wished was eternity, but more so like a few minutes. him staying completely silent as you inhaled deep breath after another, attempting to gain composure back.

jeno finally decides to break the silence, “wanna talk about it?”

“no,” you’re quick with your response, though your voice is slightly wavering.

“okay,” jeno faintly whispers, so quiet that you barely hear him.

you unravel your arms around him, pulling yourself away to look him in his eyes. your faces inches apart, “i just need you.”

jeno flickers between your eyes. he presses a delicate kiss onto your lips before taking in a deep breath, “i’m here.”

the ever-so-familiar all-consuming urge takes over you as you crash your lips onto his, breathing him in like he’s the very oxygen you rely on.

as if by habit, jeno immediately reciprocates. his hands positioned over the small of your back, supporting you as you lean back from the sheer force of jeno kissing you back.

the way you take each other in it’s like you haven’t seen him in years. a certain desperation tasting sweet on your lips as jeno presses himself firmly against you.

he hums into your lips before pulling away to catch his breath.

your thumb rests in the place between his ear and jawline, pulling his face closer until your foreheads meet.

through a shaky breath, you whisper, “i want you.”

“i can give you that,” jeno hauls you up into his arms with ease, like all the other times before this. gently pecking your lips as he carries you into his bedroom.

the room is lit only by the warm orange lamp in the corner. his bedsheets a faded black.

jeno reaches the end of his bed, dropping you onto the soft mattress and towering over your body.

he doesn’t say anything, instead letting his eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. they roam all over you, until his gaze finally fixes onto your face.

his breath hitches before he evens it out again. crawling over your body, you can see the muscles in his arms stretch and pull as he moves, caging you inside of him.

he leans down towards you, attaching his lips to your neck. rather than his usual penchant to suck on your skin as hard as he can so as to leave marks all over you, his lips are soft and fleeting against your neck—leaving a fluttering trail of kisses all the way to your collarbone.

you arch your back into the warmth of his lips.

jeno mumbles against your skin, “tell me what you want.” his breath fanning onto your chest.

your fingers lay flat on the planes of his face, the side of your thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. jeno leans into your touch, tilting his head upwards to look at you.

you meet his gaze, both equally dark and lustful.

“i need you…”

there’s a second part to that sentence that you didn’t voice, but you’re sure jeno can fill in the blanks for himself.

on any other given night, jeno would’ve asked you to finish that statement. but not tonight.

his fingers hook into the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting it up and over you as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world. he tosses the shirt over his shoulder somewhere—you don’t pay attention. immediately, he continues his trail of kisses down onto your chest, over your heartbeat.

his kisses get sloppier by the second, hands tugging at your waist like you can get any closer physically than you already are.

you can’t help the moans that rasp from the back of your throat as his hands make their way up your torso. the warmth of his palm covering the soft flesh of your chest as he hooks a finger into your bra strap.

he pulls his lips away from you, levelling his face with yours again.

jeno runs a hand down your hair, cupping his fingers over your cheek, “you’re so pretty tonight.” his voice coming out as a low, gravelly whisper.

you try to ignore the skip in your chest from that.

technically, he’s not breaking any rules, or rule. the rule being strictly no pet names. jeno thought it strange when you proposed that no matter what, no pet names are allowed to be used, but nonetheless, he went along with it.

“only tonight?” your eyebrows quirk upwards; not passing up on the opportunity he set up perfectly for you.

he subtly rolls his eyes, taking away his hand and planting it firmly into the mattress next to your head. jeno lets silence fill the next two moments, staring at you with an expression you haven’t seen from him before. much more serious than all the other ones you know.

“you’re always pretty. you know that.”

his words knock you speechless, staring at him half-blank and half-stunned as to how you should even respond to that.

you land a soft blow to his chest, “what is wrong with you?” you tease with the slightest hint of a nervous smile on your lips, trying to cut through the tension you’re feeling all over. “i came to get fucked, not… whatever this is.”

“oh, god forbid i be nice for once,” he sighs, causing you to slap your hand onto his chest once again—him chuckling lightly as a result. “who said i wasn’t gonna fuck you as well?”

he presses a faint kiss just off of your lips before moving down to work the buttons on your trousers.

his fingers tug impatiently at the waistband once the button is undone, pulling the fabric off of you. the cool air blankets your bare thighs, and the feeling is quickly replaced by jeno’s hand kneading your muscles underneath his fingers.

"you want to feel good?" jeno kisses your inner thigh, a heat sparking from where his lips touched your skin. "i'll make my pretty girl feel good."

he pushes the elastic band of his pajama pants down, revealing his lower stomach lined with hard packs of muscle.

jeno kneels in between your legs, hand wrapping around the base of his dick—slowly hardening as he pumps his hand up and down his length.

you watch him, flitting between his hand and his expression. jeno sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. just the sight of his cock in his palm is making your hunger pool in between your legs, knees pressing together as you feel the pressure build.

you don't notice jeno watching you as carefully as you were him until he lets a chuckle fall from his lips. "you do need to get fucked, don't you?" he teases with a smile.

your teeth has been sinking down into your bottom lip even without you knowing. growing desperate just at the sight of him kneeling over you.

"so, are you gonna do it or not?" the restlessness ringing in your voice. you feign reaching for your pants slid halfway down your legs, "'cause i can go find someone who—"

"no, no," jeno grasps the wrist that you reached down with, pulling it back up and pinning it to the pillow over your head. "you're staying right here."

he takes your other hand, joining it with the one above your head. though only one of his hands are holding your wrists together, his grip is so tight that you don't think you can break free even if you wanted to.

he leans in, caressing your cheek with his thumb—so close that you can see each individual eyelash lining the edge of his eyelids. "and who can fuck you the way i do?" his eyes travel to your cheekbones, brushing over it with his fingers, "hm?"

"that's a bit cocky, don't you think?" you say, tilting your head to the side and dropping your gaze onto his lips.

his rosy pink lips curve into a cresent shape. "just asking a question, pretty girl."

you're starting to think jeno may be teetering on the borderline of your rule, but you don't bring it up.

"so?" jeno widens his eyes at you slightly, and you meet him with a mirrored expression.

"what?"

"you haven't given me a name."

truth is, you haven't slept with other people since you started sleeping with jeno. and it's not like you're going to anytime soon. even if you did, you know they simply don't compare.

and the worst thing is you know he knows this, too.

"you're so annoying," you want to nudge him away, but he's got your hands trapped.

jeno only smiles an innocent smile, amused at the sight of you writhing to break away under him to no avail. "i'm not going to do anything to you until you answer the question."

you stare into his eyes, and you’re sure he can see the frustration evident in your own.

“really?” is the only response you can give, dipping your chin and cocking your eyebrows up. the tone of your voice telling of your annoyance.

jeno nods, still with that smile on his face—not giving you anything more.

you roll your eyes.

“no one,” your voice low, almost on the edge of being sheepish.

“sorry, what was that?” he tilts his head, turning his ear towards you.

he’s having way too much fun teasing you like this.

you let out a groan. “fuck you,” you spit bitterly, your voice back up to a normal volume.

he chuckles lightly, “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

before you can even think of a witty response to his comment, you feel the friction of him dragging the tip of his cock over your clothed cunt.

“it’d be so easy to just put it in,” his fingers slipping into your underwear, “when you’re this wet.”

he pulls his fingers away, leaning into your face once again. “come on, pretty girl,” he brings his hand up to your lips, pushing them through and letting you suck on it, tasting yourself on his fingers. “tell me who can fuck you better than i can.”

he slides his fingers out, dragging along your lips before completing removing them.

“no one,” you mutter, trying to hide the desperation in you with a breath.

he smirks, “good girl.”

he looks down, bunching the fabric of your underwear to one side before grabbing the base of his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

you’re seeing a side to jeno that you haven’t seen before. usually, sex between you was a quick release. half the time it’s like he’s rushing to get through it with how hard and fast he’s pounding himself into you.

but slowly he pushes himself in you—being gentle with you, almost. moans erupting from his throat before he finally fills you up, as evidenced by the outline of his cock bulging up out of your stomach. the sight of it drives jeno fucking crazy—which is why he always fucks you like a dog in heat.

tonight, though, he’s determined to set a different pace.

his hips stills as your pussy swallows the entire length of his dick. no matter how many times you do it, it’s never something you can fully get used to. your back already arched into him, nails digging into your own palms.

“you always feel so fucking good,” jeno rasps, letting go of his grasp on your wrists and placing it on your waist instead.

he pulls his hips back at a steady pace. you feel every inch of it as it drags against your walls.

with your arms freed, you quickly wrap them around jeno’s neck.

he thrusts into you again, hips stuttering as he lets out a breathy moan. his head falls into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin.

you hold back a cry as he bottoms out, fingers holding furiously onto his shoulders.

jeno builds a steady rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of you—following each thrust with a grunt.

“fuck, jeno,” you whine, thighs clamping tight around him.

he groans, his entire body responding viscerally to his name falling from your lips. and he can’t hold back anymore.

his hips picking up speed as he pounds himself deeper and deeper into you. fingers gripping tighter on your waist and pushing you down on his dick, meeting his thrusts halfway.

he unravels one of your arms from around his neck, laying it out over your head.

“fuck,” jeno lifts his head, leaving your faces mere inches apart. he spreads open your palm, threading his fingers through yours and holding your hand tightly as he keeps up the pace of his thrusts.

your bottom lip is pulled back by your teeth, trying to contain the whimpers and cries that are threatening to escape. you feel the pressure within you building, and creeping dangerously close to its release.

jeno lets out a string of curses, feeling you starting to tighten around him. “baby, i’m gonna—”

with a sudden choke of his words, jeno pulls out. his cock twitching violently as his cum shoots out from his tip, painting your stomach in streaks of white.

the sudden halt of friction leaves your body aching, desperate for sensation again.

your breathing begins to slow as you watch jeno throw his head back, cock still throbbing. looking down, you can see the ribbons of his cum covering your entire torso.

jeno drops his head, seeing the mess he made all over you.

“i’m sorry,” he pants, “i swear to god, you…”

you watch the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face for a moment.

“‘baby?’” your voice taking on a questioning tone, ignoring your body’s pleading for attention.

“it just came over me, i know—” he breathes heavily, giving your hand a squeeze. “i know you don’t like it.”

“then, why’d you say it?” you sounding more defensive than offensive, surprising even yourself when your voice rings in your ear.

“i don’t know, i—” jeno untangles his hand from yours, pushing his hair back from sticking onto his face. “yn, are we really gonna do this?”

“you broke the rule.”

the bluntness of your statement forces jeno to look you in the eyes.

in all honesty, you’re not upset at this. but just the principle of him breaking the rule makes it appear like you are.

“you have to know,” jeno simply mutters.

“know what?”

“god, yn,” he shuts his eyes, turning his face away from yours for a brief moment. “you think i fuck everyone like this?”

he continues when you don’t respond—how could you even respond?

“you think i even fuck anyone who’s not you?”

jeno’s chest swells as he speaks. he pushes a strand of your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. “i wasn’t being mean earlier when i asked you that question, i—i wanted to know.”

you bite down hard on your lip.

the feeling of not knowing what to say has never settled well within you.

“jeno, i thought we—”

“i know what we agreed on,” jeno cuts you off. “and i’m sorry i crossed that line. you don’t have to—”

“i like you.”

your voice cuts through his. his eyes fixed on yours as he takes in what he just heard.

“what?” jeno’s voice is weak, his face telling of him being caught off guard.

you cup his cheek in your palm, thumb lightly grazing over his cheekbone, “i like you.”

“i thought—”

you press your lips firmly onto his, breaking off the rest of his words. when you pull away, jeno chases after your lips with his own, kissing you like his very life depended on it.

“fuck,” he mumbles against you, letting out a soft chuckle. “you like me.”

you hum as he pulls back, lips glossy under the dim lighting.

“are you saying this is one-sided?” you rib.

a small smirk turns up the corner of jeno’s lips. “you haven’t cum, yet, have you?”

the sudden turn in topic draws your eyebrows together.

jeno moves lower down your body, hands running down the sides of it, until his mouth is hovering over your bare cunt.

“i guess i should show my pretty baby just how much i like her.”

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter I: The Chain 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after leaving him, your inevitable reunion with your soon-to-be ex-husband Aemond isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, depictions of anxiety, allusions to smut

Word count: 3000

A/N: Edited and done, please enjoy 🩵 Thank you my love @theoneeyedprince for giving this a look-through for me 🫶

Breathe.

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. In. Hold three seconds. Out.

You haven’t been able to eat anything all morning, far too nauseous to keep even a piece of toast down.

The breathing exercise your therapist had taught you does little to help you calm down.

You’ve felt anxious before, but rarely this intense.

It’s so physical.

You feel it in your stomach turning, chest contracting, hands tingling, head spinning.

You knew you’d have to meet him sooner or later.

Afterall, you’d both decided to stay in the band. You’d just started to gain traction, embarking on your first ever tour across the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

A once in a lifetime opportunity for an up-and-coming band.

Still, knowing that didn’t make it easier to turn the handle of the door and walk into the studio.

Knowing he’ll be there.

You hadn’t seen your husband, Aemond, in over three months now.

Soon to be ex-husband.

You’d honestly expected the process to be speedier; you hadn’t demanded anything from him, the only thing important to you was that you kept all legal rights you had in relation to the band; the rights to your songs. And he hadn’t really given any conditions himself, yet his solicitors took ages contacting yours.

That’s all you’d heard from him over the summer. Updates from your legal advisers about his.

You’d blocked his number after leaving the divorce papers at your shared flat and moved out, tired of your phone overheating from the amount of times he’d tried calling you.

In the end, Alicent, your mother-in-law, had phoned you, begging you to please meet with her son and talk it out. You told her that you’d already talked plenty and there was no point in continuing indulging in pointless discussion. You’d always gotten along well with Alicent, so having her call you to do her son’s bidding felt so unbelievably awkward. He’d always been such a mama’s boy.

With one final, shaky exhale, you turn the handle of the door and push it open, stepping into the hallway.

With the door ajar, you can hear chatter from the studio.

Everyone’s already here.

Good, then you’d just have to suck it up and face them. Like ripping off a band-aid; only painful for a second.

You spot Helaena first. She gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and straightens up slightly.

You’d met her a few times in the last months; brainstorming song ideas and recording vocals together in the studio.

Besides playing the piano, she wrote songs and sang for the band, just like you and Aemond. She hadn’t asked you anything about him, which you were thankful for. You know she’s anxious about how the dynamic in the band will shift now that the two of you have separated. And her anxiety materialises in the way she starts picking at her nail beds as soon as she sees you emerge through the door.

Next to Helaena sits Jace, who plays bass for the band. He gives you a half-hearted smile, accompanied by tense shoulders and a murmured greeting.

Across the table from him is Erryk, drummer and the newest addition to the band. He seems to not sense the tension that hangs heavy in the room and smiles at you until his eyes crinkle.

His obliviousness almost makes you laugh. It nearly manages to cut through the uncomfortable tension, until your eyes travel to lock with the last person in the room.

You knew that Aemond wouldn’t cause a scene and act infuriatingly indifferent towards you.

You knew that he’d give you a nod and get straight down to business.

Still, you feel a sliver of satisfaction when your predictions turn out to be true.

“So, everyone’s done with recording their parts?”, he asks the room.

He’s already pulled out his laptop, quick fingers typing as he waits for confirmation.

Though the tense atmosphere never really leaves the room, you all collectively try to power through as you discuss how recording went and what else needs to be fixed before the album is ready.

Due to your and Aemond’s separation, and the tumultuous events leading up to it, the band had agreed that everyone would record their vocals and instruments separately; putting everything together in production later. This had slowed down the process significantly, resulting in you being far from done with the album your label wanted you to release at the end of the month.

“As you know, the label isn’t too pleased with the fact that we haven’t finished the album yet-”, Aemond says, eyes still on the screen of his laptop; both his seeing eye and the unmoving one covered by a layer of white mist,

“-But they’ve asked us if we’d be willing to perform some new songs during the tour, to boost sales and get the hype up”

His voice is stoic, every utterance straight to the point. You sit on his blind side, with Helaena between your chair and his, and you take the opportunity of knowing he can’t clearly see you to examine him, searching for any changes since you last laid eyes on him, when his knuckles were bloody and panic reflected in his lilac eye.

He looks exactly like he always does; infuriatingly handsome.

His long, silvery hair hangs loose over his shoulders. His long eyelashes cast down as he inspects the screen of his laptop. His aquiline nose slopes beautifully to meet his perfectly pouty lips, begging to be kissed-

Fuck, stop!

Truth be told, you’d put extra effort into looking your best today, spending an hour on doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. Hopefully you’d succeeded in making it appear much less intentional than it was, suddenly feeling a flash of embarrassment wash over you.

Why do you care what he thinks anymore?

The meeting goes on for another hour. The band’s manager, Tyland Lannister, joins in after 20 minutes, briefing the band members on the upcoming tour. Opening night’s in one week, on Dragonstone, and you’ll all fly out the morning of the show.

As the members of the band prepare to leave the studio, the tension that had previously felt so crushing is now only lingering in the periphery.

Jace and Erryk talk excitedly about all the places they’ll visit during the tour; what they wanted to eat and what they wanted to see. For a second it almost feels like things are back to normal, like the last three months never happened.

As everyone makes their separate ways home, you spot Aemond walk up to a black car and quickly jump in the passenger seat.

Your stomach turns.

You only see a flash of her black hair before the car drives away. The mask of indifference you’d put on cracks slightly at the sight of them together.

You wanted the divorce, idiot.

It still hurts seeing him move on though. He’d done it so quickly; uncharacteristically so.

The first week after you’d left, he blew up your phone trying to get a hold of you.

Despite his inexcusable behaviour, there had been times when you felt guilty for leaving him so abruptly. Even though you knew he deserved it, you also knew that leaving him and refusing to talk to him would drive him insane. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d go and get a new girl a mere week after Alicent had called you.

Seeing them together in real life made you feel exactly as you did when your friend Alysanne had sent you the link to the 30 second video two and a half months ago.

Nauseous.

The video showed Aemond getting out of a taxi in front of a new and chic Braavosi bistro downtown. It was opening night and a few local news sources were there to report. One of the journalists had recognised Aemond, clearly intrigued by the fact that the still-married bandman rounded the taxi and offered his hand to a beautiful dark-haired woman stepping out. As they walked towards the entrance, the reporter chased them down, microphone in hand and cameraman in tow.

“Aemond Targaryen? Already moving on after the separation I see?”, the reporter half-shouts behind Aemond to get his attention.

His date turns around in response to the comment, smiling as her emerald gaze observes the reporter. The news of your separation had been speculated on a few minor fansites after someone leaked an email from your solicitor's office, but neither you nor Aemond had made any statement about it.

He wasn’t planning on giving one now either, unimpressed eye giving the reporter a once-over before huffing in amusement and gesturing for his date to follow him inside.

The reporter, set on getting an answer from the rising star, chuckles before forcefully shoving the microphone in Aemond’s face,

“Women come and go, is that the case?”, he presses with a cheeky wink.

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that”, he says, wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

You’d later learn that the date from that night was his new manager, Alys Rivers.

Funny how he’d gotten a manager to handle his possible solo work.

Six months prior, when you’d been approached by a talent scout asking if you’d ever thought of doing solo stuff on the side, Aemond had been absolutely livid. After giving the agent a few well-chosen words, he had stormed off, leaving you upset and confused.

It was ultimately his jealousy and possessiveness that broke your marriage, getting to a point where you felt like you couldn’t be with him any longer. Neither as a lover nor a friend.

Now, the only place he can take in your life is as your bandmate; business partner, and nothing more.

You’d seriously considered leaving the band when you decided on leaving him. Still, somewhere deep inside you can’t shake this feeling that what your band has is something unique; something you won’t find anywhere else.

You and Aemond had started the band with Helaena right around the time you’d first met.

The three of you quickly bonded over your shared vision of what kind of music you’d like to make. On top of that, your voices sounded so good together, Aemond providing structure with his precision while you focused on conveying raw emotions.

So you decided to stick it out, work with your ex-husband in order to make the music that you wanted.

You’re an artist. All artists suffered for their art, right? You’d just have to suck this up and get on with it; continue to create art. And the pain would be worth it.

Besides, truth be told, you’d never met anyone quite as talented as Aemond. You’d never met anyone else who understood the music you wanted to create quite like he did.

When it came to music, you two almost had a telepathic connection. As someone who relies a lot on intuition and ‘that feeling in your gut’, you found it hard to describe music and your visions for it in general. But with Aemond you never needed to; he understood. Two minds wired the same.

Unfortunately, that wordless communication only stretched as far as music.

You think back to one of the last conversations you had before you left him.

You’d tried to confront him about his temper and inability to keep his jealousy in check, and he’d promptly ignored you; defaulting into shutting you out.

Exhausted, you resorted to the only solution you could come up with.

“Maybe we should spend some time apart, let things cool down a bit”, you try, purposefully making your voice as gentle as possible.

Aemond, who’d been staring out the window of your apartment in contemplative rage, quickly turns to face you, expression impassive but one eye furious.

“If you want some ‘time apart’ you might as well get on with it and leave”, he says, voice chilly. Sometimes when he’s angry, he sounds so hateful it hurts your heart.

“What do you want me to do Aemond?”, you reply, patience running thin as anger overcomes you, “You don’t allow me to live my life, you hinder any chance of growth I have-”,

“Growth!? What else do you need?”, he spits back. “Do you understand what it means to be married to someone? I do fucking everything for you, you’re my wife!”

“Sure, chain me to our marriage. Keep me shackled to you forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? While you fuck around town, relishing in the freedom you never allow me”

Your agitated voice matches his. You know your words will hurt him.

Aemond exhales loudly. His jaw’s shut tight and misty gaze piercing. He has a tendency to shut down during fights, especially when he doesn't have a snide remark waiting at the back of his mind.

Aemond’s eyes, locking yours in a death stare, narrow,

“So you want out?”

The flight to Dragonstone goes by in a flash, and after a quick soundcheck at the venue, the five members of Dragon Dreamers start getting ready for the show. 

You and Helaena do your usual routine of getting ready together, checking each other’s makeup and hair.

As the venue starts to fill up, the band gathers backstage, quickly running through your set one last time. You try to shoot a covert glance at Aemond, but he immediately finds your eyes. As always, he looks impeccable.

“Since we’ve finished ‘The Chain’ in production, I suggest we play that as our opening number tonight. It’s fast-paced and will get the crowd moving”, Aemond states, looking at his bandmates for approval.

They all nod knowingly, catching you by surprise.

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with ‘The Chain’”, you say, trying to sound neutral though you suspect he chose a song you don’t know on purpose.

“It’s the one you did some backup vocals on in the studio”, Aemond replies, throwing you a quick look, “Me and Helaena can sing the verses and you can join in during the chorus”, he offers, moving to pick up his guitar, signalling that he’s done with the conversation.

Great, first song on opening night and you’ll stand there like a deer in headlights.

You sigh quietly and grab your tambourine. If you’re not going to sing you’ll at least try to join in by jamming a bit to the beat. Only one thing echoes in your mind,

Don’t let him get to you!

‘The Chain’ starts playing. Steady drums beat in a slow rhythm as Aemond plays a bluesy melody on his guitar, and you realise that it is one of the songs that you and he had worked on when you were still together.

Last time you heard it, you had worked out the melody, but not really pinned down the lyrics. Aemond must’ve taken it upon himself to finish it, completely steering away from the direction you thought the song would take.

‘Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise’

Why haven't you heard anything about this new edit?

A chill runs down your spine.

Has he re-written it to be about you?

‘Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies’

Yes he has.

You and Aemond got married at sunrise by the Hightower summer house in Highgarden in June two years ago.

Aemond had proposed to you only five weeks prior, and being so in love that you couldn’t possibly imagine being separated for more than 15 minutes, you decided to tie the knot as quickly as possible.

You just wanted to be his.

That had been one of your fondest memories together; a small ceremony that was only yours.

Now, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Memories rotting from within.

You hate it. You don’t want to think about that now.

Damn him. Damn his love. Damn his lies.

‘And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again’

‘I can still hear you saying, “you would never break the chain”’

As he sings, he sounds so angry, his voice is almost foreign to you.

He usually tries to keep his emotions in check, even when performing. Probably too scared to be vulnerable enough to let people know he actually has feelings, you reckon.

You remember the song and the rapid pace it picks up. Trying to ignore what you think is Aemond staring at you from the side of the stage, you dance and sing to the song about your heartbreak.

You let the music consume you as you work the tambourine, dancing and spinning, trying to relish in the feeling of knowing your band had made a killer song.

The audience is loving it. You have never heard them this rowdy before, and you can see the entire venue dancing.

You keep going, trying to distract yourself so your gaze won’t travel to Aemond.

He had played a rough first version of the guitar solo he wanted to incorporate in the song for you when you were still together. It really was phenomenal, fitting perfectly with the climax of the song.

He’s an insanely skilled guitarist, never missing a note and always instinctively knowing exactly what melody will match the feel of a song.

The audience is loving it, screaming and dancing with you.

Feeling braver and with the adrenaline from the performance running through your veins, you come up to your mic and sing along with Aemond and Helaena, chanting in unison.

The three of you sound good, like you always do.

The realisation gives you comfort; there’s still hope for your band.

‘Chain, keep us together’

‘Running in the shadows’

You can do this.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🫶

[delusional-day-dreamer]

pretty in pink - p.b

‣ paige bueckers x reader!

‣ wc: 2835

‣‣ synopsis: your longtime (not so secret) girlfriend surprises you by dying her hair your favorite color! takes place before and on july 22nd (aka paige's sneakity peakity live). literally just tooth-rotting fluff and a little kissing!

‣‣‣ a/n: this is the fic that won in the poll (i'm not surprised y'all chose paige) but the next one i have scheduled to release is one of the nika ones! hopefully i'll be more consistent with writing in these next few weeks before school starts.

On your way home after a very successful meeting planning out the beginning of the uconn women's basketball team season, especially with media days and pressers, there was only one thing that could've made your night better. The presence of your beloved girlfriend, Paige Bueckers.

You and Paige had started dating in the middle of her junior year and your sophomore year, but that's not to say the two of you weren't harboring feelings for a while before that. Being one of the team photographers had allowed you to spend a lot of time with the uconn wbb team on and off the court, and you were very close with basically all of the players, especially Azzi.

Being in Azzi's year meant that she was the first person you connected with, having two classes with her outside of basketball definitely helped your relationship as well.

So it was nothing less of a delight to her when she would often catch your gaze lingering on her other best friend, Paige Bueckers, for just a second too long at games or certain practices you were called to take shots of.

As little did you know, she had caught on to the fact that Paige bore a huge crush on the pretty photographer who always got the best shots of her, came to check up on her before both her meniscus and acl surgeries and stayed with her multiple nights afterwards, and to top it all off, always gifting her the cutest bouquets of her favorite purple flowers.

She only put up with the two of you respectively complaining to her about your ever-consuming feelings for three ish months, before finally setting the two of you up to privately confess in your hotel room on Christmas Eve after an easy dub for UConn.

After a few shedded tears, excited giggles, slight teasing, and searing kisses, the two of you made it official, not telling anyone on the team, except Azzi of course, until around Valentine's Day, and still keeping it on the down low from the media, but you often joined Paige as her plus one to events pertaining to and outside basketball.

And unfortunately for the two of you lovestruck fools, you weren't the most discreet when making heart eyes at each other. The fans were not oblivious to the way Paige would look for you before, during, and after games, the fact that majority of your best photography was of Paige, and your friendly, but all too coupley sweet, interactions.

With this shipping, of course, came a huge following and obsessed, loving fan base for you and Paige. Fans ate up the aesthetic posts that graced your instagram feed, your occasional but always viral tiktoks, and your carefully curated list of public playlists on spotify and apple music (some that fans noticed had paige's favorite songs on).

And yet, you never outright addressed the rumors, despite your tiktok reposts hinting at the fact that you were dating someone, and small sly remarks occasionally dropped on KK's live hinting at your taken status, you and Paige had never found the need to publicly announce your relationship, reveling in the privacy you two were able to maintain while (badly) keeping it a secret.

That is, up until about a month ago. With the difficult conversation of whether Paige would enter the draft or stay another year at UConn, the possibility of long distance and what the future of your relationship would look like, you and Paige decided that you would make the most out of the last year you had together at university, and that included being able to publicly love up on your girlfriend.

Though you had never decided when and how to announce your relationship, agreeing that you would just go with the flow when it seemed right, Paige had a different idea in mind at how to hard launch your relationship to the rest of the world.

A random KK Arnold live in the middle of your junior year

"Y/n/n, the live wants to see more of you. They just can't get enough of you girly pop, they in loveeee," KK sang out, knowing the reason you so scarcely appeared on her lives was the fact that you were just a little camera shy, not used to constantly being in front of the media like the girls on the team were.

"KK I'm literally bare-faced in pajamas," you whispered from behind the camera, scratching the side of your face as you glanced at Paige sitting next to her.

"Girl boo, ain't no one care. You look good either way, just come say hi to the fans," she insisted, trying to ease you out your shell. Everyone on the team knew what an outgoing social butterfly you were, but social media had always intimidated you to a certain extent, which is why you preferred being behind the camera rather than in front of it.

You glanced at Paige again, who nodded encouragingly and scooted to the side, opening a space for you to take a seat between the two girls.

You sighed as you made your way to the couch, sitting criss-crossed between the two basketball players as KK's arm immediately swung to rest around your shoulders, happily introducing you to her live.

"Y'all if you don't know Miss Y/N, you should. She's our little camera girl and gets us right, EVERY TIME. I don't know if I can allow her to leave after next year because she's the only person out here that actually gets my angles right. Plus, we all in her little bougie apartment right now, y'all don't understand that she lives better than all of us here," You smiled at KK's rambling, she was one of the younger girls you had a particular soft spot for, and she always referred to you and Paige as her parents with how close you guys were.

"Okay so boom, let's do a little q and a with y/n so y'all can get to know who she is. You ready?" She turned to you, fake holding an imaginary mic in her hand as she got ready to "interview" you.

"Well if the fans want to know, who am I to say no?" You shrugged, loosening up a little with how infectious KK's energy was.

"Okay bars, let's start off with what the people want to know," she scanned over the influx of comments coming in to the livestream, picking out a few before turning back to you.

"Easy one first since apparently no one here pays attention to what I say, who are you and why do you know us?" She side-eyed the camera, pretending to be annoyed that people didn't listen to her explanation the first time. Paige sat silently next to you, doing her best to not stare at you lovingly on camera, knowing how intricately fans analyzed any of your interactions together.

"I'm y/n l/n and I'm one of the photographers for the women's basketball team. Have been since I was a freshman, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon, so y'all are stuck with me," you proceeded to stick your tongue out at Aubrey, who was all the way in the edge of the live's background, but still visible as she pretended to choke herself at the mention of you staying for the next two years.

"Anyways, hmmm," you leaned in to the camera slightly, reading over the questions to find an appropriate one to answer.

"Oh my favorite color, that's literally one of the easiest questions ever. Pink, no doubt about it. I have so many pink things in my apartment."

"Someone said, you should give a little pink tour, you could show them your like matcha station thing and your bedroom, it's like a unicorn threw up pink in there. Plus all your little stuffed animals," KK joked, making fun of your obsession with the color.

"Maybe next time guys, going straight to the bedroom the first time we meet is crazyyy," you teased, inciting laughter from multiple of the girls lounging around you living room.

"Yo chilll," Paige quipped, gently tapping your knee with the back of her hand as she smirked up at you from her slouched position against your couch cushions.

You raised an eyebrow at her teasingly, giggling as you break off her gaze to return your attention back to the live.

"Which one of your stuffed animals is your favorite? Okay so for the most part they're all Jellycats, or like the weighted dinosaurs from Target, but my favorite by far is my little Jellycat bouquet of flowers, it's the cutest thing I’ve ever been gifted," You smiled, excited to talk about a part of your life that the viewers didn't know was about Paige.

When you first came to UConn, you only brought one stuffed animal with you from your vast childhood collection at home, the little pink bunny from Jellycat. But over the past three years, your college collection had grown solely due to the gifts Paige bought you, knowing how much you loved having those parts of her at night when she couldn't make it for some reason or was at away games you weren't scheduled for.

You continued to scan over the comments, doing your best to bite back a smile at the ones freaking out over you and Paige. You were used to it by now, but the thrill of secrecy never failed to make your heart race.

Back to present

Walking up to the steps of your apartment, you had no clue what surprise Paige had prepared for you, as you weren't expecting her to fly back until tomorrow. But when Brittany had called Paige to discuss the game plan for the teams upcoming shoot with a semi permanent hair dye brand, Paige immediately knew the perfect surprise to greet you with after your long separation due to her “world tour”.

Originally, the two of you were supposed to travel together, using the trip as a hard launch, but after some last minute issues with your time off with work and the busy schedule they crammed onto you, you decided it would be best to stay back while Paige enjoyed her solo tour, even though it was far from easy.

The two of you were constantly texting and calling whenever you found a spare minute in your busy days, and it was the only thing keeping you sane the last two weeks. And when you said constantly texting, you meant it.

And apparently, even Paige's friends recognized how down bad she was without you, after Flaujae exposed her for cheesing at her phone while texting you at the WNBA All-Star game, which you immediately found out about by the influx of comments tagging you, questioning if you were the person responsible. You were, of course, but they didn't need to know that. At least for now, to your knowledge at least.

Opening the door to your apartment, you set your shoes down on the neat rack you had set up, hanging up your keys on the wall above it as you made your way to your bedroom, unsuspecting as to what awaited you.

"Oh my god," you shrieked, processing the sight that greeted you as you reached right outside the door frame, mouth agape as your eyes took in the figure perched by the edge of your neatly made, pink bed, grinning at your shocked expression.

"Paige what the fuck, oh my god. You're here, you're pink, what the hell," you exclaimed hurriedly, rushing into your room to envelop your girlfriend in a tight hug, wrapping your arms around her neck as she encircled your waist.

She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, angling her head up from your stomach so she could speak directly to you.

"Hey baby, you like it?" She grinned, pleased with the way your night was about to play out.

"You're so pink what the hell, when did you even find time to do this?" You questioned, running your fingers through her freshly dyed pink hair, in awe of the way your girlfriend could pull off just literally any look.

"Right before I left LA, figured if I was gonna dye my hair for the shoot I might as well make it my girl's favorite color yeah? But like, it looks good right?"

You raised an eyebrow at her not so subtle dig at you not answering her question, needing the validation from you to approve her new look.

You thought about your response for a second, going back and forth between teasing her a little, just to pull on her leg for shits and giggles, or just fawning over her the way you've been dying to do since she left the warmth of your embrace.

But, inevitable your longing to shower her in compliments and kisses overpowered any need to pester her, and it clearly showed on your face as your mouth broke out in a wide smile.

"You look so pretty baby. On God. Literally the most beautiful girlfriend ever," you gushed, tucking the front pieces of her hair behind her ears so you could take a look at her new piercings as well.

You had quite a few ear piercings from when you were bored in high school, the glint of gold jewelry along your ear almost always prominent since you wore majority of the earrings 24/7, and Paige would be lying if she said her piercings weren’t slightly inspired by yours.

“And these as well?” You teased, referring to her helix and seconds. “So sexy, truly P,” you nodded at her, grinning wide as you leaned down for a kiss.

You sighed against Paige’s lips, forgoing the teasing demeanor you held as you felt the craving for her subside, eager to finally have her back in your arms. Your mouth moved hungrily against hers, using one hand to grasp at her jaw and the other at the base of her neck, holding her tight in a desperate attempt to re-memorize the taste of her lips.

Paige’s grip on your waist tightened, before one hand left to travel down to your ass, playfully smacking your left cheek before grabbing onto the fat to pull you in closer to her, her intentions to drag you onto the bed next to her clear.

You whined as you broke away from her kiss, resisting her attempt to pull you down as you pouted down at her.

“No outside clothes on the bed Paige, I need to go shower first,” you insisted, rubbing your thumb against her cheek.

“You know lucky for me I have quite a bit of free time right now, and an extra shower never hurt anybody,” she quipped back, unwilling to separate from your presence now that she finally had you.

“Yeah?” You smirked, grabbing her hand as you led her outside your room and into the bathroom across the hall.

The Next Day; UConn women’s locker room (i think?)

You glanced up from your phone, watching as Paige moved around the locker room, posing with Ice, Azzi, Morgan, and Carol, setting her phone lower so the camera couldn't see anyone but her.

She raised her eyebrow at you questioningly, silently asking whether you wanted to be shown on the live from your seat in the corner of the locker.

You nodded at her, beckoning her over to sit next to you as you set your phone down, smiling at her as she made her way over to you.

“Since y’all wanna know why I chose pink, thought it was obvious but apparently not,”

She extended her arm outwards so that both of your bodies could easily fit in the frame of the camera.

“You know I had to make it my girl’s favorite color, now all that’s left is for y/n to do hers purple,” She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, making sure you were okay with how easily she referred to you as “her girl” in front of the thousands of viewers.

“Just cause you look pretty in pink does not mean I’m dying my hair purple Paige, I can’t pull all that off like you can baby,” you flirted shamelessly, running your fingers through your hair as you smirked at the blush that rose to her cheeks at your very public display.

“Aight not too much now,” She rose from her seat, patting your thigh off camera as she walked over to Brittany, cheesing and blushing hard as she avoided looking down at the camera until she posed with Brittany, smiling as her eyes skimmed over the flood of shocked and astonished comments regarding your relationship.

“Yeah that’s my girl, what ‘bout it?”

Let’s just say following Paige’s live and your respective hard launch posts on instagram, your phone has never and probably will never again experience such a quick and constant rush of notifications over the span of four days.

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed!!

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations

Last month I did an in-depth re-watch of rottmnt s1 to take some notes on writing the characters of rise from their perspective and such. Figured I'd share what I found, but I'm also posting this bc my docs have a nasty habit of blipping out of existence.

We'll start with Raph bc he's the oldest of course, but I'll post the others sep. bc this is gonna get long!!

Raph Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrases: "like a boss", "smash"

Verbalizes his attacks such as "smash", "knuckle sandwich", "power smash jitsu", "tonfa power jitsu", "mystic punch jitsu"

Uses older song titles for surprised exclamations or in place of cursing, most notably "jumping jack flash!"

Uses aave/bae, For example: 'em instead of them, 'ey instead of they, 'cause instead of because, forgoes the g in ing words (going becomes goin')

Uses less and less grammar the more he's stressed, and his voice will come to a higher pitch

Will speak in a softer tone to his little brothers if he's concerned about hurting their feelings. Aka babying them

Mixes up both metaphors and idioms. Would be one to say how the turn tables unironically

Does say "hero" a lot, lost count, especially in phrases like "hero town"

Refers to his brothers as "boys" or "fellas"

Refers to Splinter as "pop(s)" most often

Refers to strangers he's directly talking to as "bubs" or "hoss"

Personality:

Protective of his family

Plays up the hero act/has a strong sense of duty and justice

Impatient, rushes in without a plan (pre-movie), doesn't finish books until the end, falls asleep during "boring movies"

Oblivious, doesn't read into things beyond surface level. Struggles with empathy when something is beyond his understanding, but is still very emotional

Center of responsibility for his brothers, but also has a reckless sense of fun. As long as it's him doing the stupid unsafe thing it's fine

Carries the weight, in a literal sense he piggy backs his brothers, but will also use his body as a shield from danger. Unfortunately this also means he takes his brothers a little less seriously (Mikey the most common victim), and will try and either protect them from everything or as an oldest sibling everything has go "his way"

Doesn't do well in solitude. Needs to be looking after people to feel functional, and needs to be around people to feel safe

Clumsy, "takes horrible pictures", isn't very good at hiding, he's a big guy so it probably took a lot of time to find balance

A sweet guy who still won't shy from making fun of his family. Leo tends to be the brunt of his teasing since he is the most annoying, but he will also poke Donnie on his dramatics

Likes cute things!!! Has a teddy bear collection and loves animals. It's so cool how this isn't played off as a joke and he's still just as masculine for liking pink and cutesy stuff

Likes fighting!!! Gets a lot of energy out defeating bad guys (where he directs his anger towards), the one who is shown to train the most, and also weight lifts in his spare time

Doesn't do well under pressure, here the anger comes out the most. He gets stressed when it's all on him, especially since he tends to mess up the most in these moments

Miscellaneous:

Second to unlock mystic powers

Nicknames/codenames: "raph-a-doodle" by leo, "red rover" by april, "red king" by donnie

Teddy bear names: Doctor Huggenstein, Captain Snuggles, Cheech

Stinks: fear stink, amazement stink, sneaking up on people stink, victory stink

Seems to be less afraid of rabbits and more afraid of puppets

Went on his first solo mission at 13

Cannot lift a bus, at age 15

Thought about discussing fighting style, but I'm not as familiar with that concept and I've seen a couple posts dissecting such topic. So we'll end here for now. Hope this was helpful!!! I'll post the rest of the boys later and link here

Leo is up!!

Donnie is up!!

Mikey is up!!

Splinter is up!!

April is up!!

Cassandra is up!!

Baron Draxum is up!!

[zph]

like in the movies. | scaramouche x gn!reader

old fashioned movies and cuddling. what could go wrong? …apparently his unfaltering need for your attention.

notes: fluff, needy scara!! (he wants ur attention), established relationship, modern au, non-sexual intimacy, idiots in love, short&sweet

masterlist

Now, Scaramouche wouldn’t say he is clingy. Despite his better judgment— Despite the way he desperately clings onto the belief that you were the touchy-feely one in the relationship, muttering along his grievances all while snuggling closer in your arms.

He was not clingy.

Tucked into your side, he peeks over your phone with a hardened glare. His eyes stumbling upon the small smile painted on your face. As if in a trance, your attention were laser focused on watching that damn show; one that he recalls mentioning to you in a passing moment, planning the day he’ll be able to watch it with you.

But now, it is hard to say he doesn’t regret it.

It was troubling how much he didn’t want to watch that stupid flim; the characters seemingly getting on his nerves, the plot beginning to feel slow and almost unnecessary, and the itch in his fingers getting a bit unbearable to ignore. And with his lips pulled taut into a thin line, he briefly tugs your sweater.

“Hey.” Look at me. He wants to say. “…This show is god awful.”

Something. Anything to agitate you, to reclaim your attention. But it was futile as the soundtrack blasted louder than his own voice. How laughable.

A second passes before the next scene comes on. And to his disappointment, you only tug him closer, content with simply staring at that worthless piece of metal, oblivious to his growing impatience. 

Yet with the way your arms wrap his waist, mindlessly padding your touch against his skin and squeezing it in reassurance, it is driving him mad with both annoyance and disbelief. If he was anymore weaker maybe he might just almost forgive you. Almost.

Which brings him to his last resort:

Without hesitation, Scaramouche gingerly sneaks his cold hands underneath your sweater, and with a snicker, he relishes as you jump at the touch.

“The hell-“ You quickly try to pull away from his abysmally chilled hands — only to fail once you catch the shit-eating grin that twitches on your boyfriend’s lips. “What was that for.”

Scaramouche only tucks himself deeper into your side, gently rubbing circles on your bare skin. “Ha..” He whispers. “..whatever do you mean?” He was being petty, of course. He thinks he certainly deserves it.

But it wasn’t long before he hears a quick ‘oh’ and the sound of a phone plopped right next to him. “I see what this is about.”

Now he has you wrapped around his finger, right where he wants you to be.

Instead, he feels your hand slowly creeping up against his waist, suddenly flipping over both of your bodies, until your face meets directly with his — effectively trapping him within your arms, and at your teasing mercy.

This is embarrassing, you are embarrassing. and yet…

“If you wanted my attention just tell me, yeah?”

“I did.” He scoffs at the knowing glint in your eyes but his composure melts as soon you place a quick peck on his forehead. Scaramouche picks up on the apologetic glance.

Flexing his fingers, his cheeks burning hot, Scaramouche mutters a low insult as you relax beside him, the irritating grin still lingering on your face.

How incredulous.

It wasn’t long before he shifts closer, tightening his hold on your back and burying his face back into your neck. He hears you chuckle, knowing you can feel the smile on his lips. Don’t say sorry idiot, I just missed you.

You both don’t say anything for a while, but with your hands threading through his hair, he finds himself finally relaxing under your hold.

You contently sigh. I missed you too.

It no longer mattered whether or not you would finish the show. That wasn’t why he wanted to watch it in the first place. He wanted you, and that was more than enough.

So maybe if you asked nicely, he would admit: he is a bit clingy. And only for you.

[icarryitin]

Episode 11: Effortless

spencer reid/gn!reader

coming into this from a fandom where my last fic got literally 11 notes (half of which were my own self-rbs) the reception for workplace hot was heartwarming, pls accept more pre-relationship work crush goodness as thanks🧡🧡

series masterlist

word count: 1.6k// warnings: absolutely hopeless pining, this man is so so clever but so so oblivious

summary: Taking care of you just comes naturally to him.

“Chicken.”

“Did you know, the origin of ‘chicken’ in reference to someone who’s afraid can be traced back to the use of ‘hen-heart’ as a synonym for ‘fainthearted’? Its first documented use was in the York Mystery Plays - which are considered to have been written prior to 1450.”

“Chicken.” Morgan repeats.

“Shut up.”

While his second response is decidedly less eloquent, Spencer’s pretty sure he can’t fact-dump his way out of this particular conversation.

It’s not exactly a secret - his giant, all consuming, world ending crush on you - at least, it’s not a secret from anyone except you. He’s past being embarrassed about it when one of the others brings it up, as long as it’s not around you. That’s happened exactly once, and Spencer’s automatic response was to chatter about the migration patterns of a specific type of bird he’d read an article about the day before. Ceaselessly. No matter how much everyone else had begged him to stop, until the previous subject was well and truly forgotten. So when you’d asked a leading question about another kind of bird? He was more than happy to oblige. You’ve always done that, listened to him. It’s nice.

It’s probably what got him in this mess in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, a routine developed itself. He remembers the first day you asked him to elaborate on something he’d started on earlier in the day, trivia about the fluctuations in the popularity of a specific make of car. It had ended up being useful in the context of the case anyway but, more importantly to Spencer, the tidbit had you cornering him in the kitchen to ask him about it. And now it’s just what happens. You potter around to make your lunch, he chatters about the most recent paper he’s read like your own personal podcast.

It’s a comfortable friendship, solidified by little things like that. Though they’re not all that little to him, if anything they’ve only deepened his feelings for you - he doesn’t let on, for your sake, he tries not to.

But his affection sneaks out in other ways.

He gravitates towards you without realising it, just to exist in your space. At the round table, on the jet, at crime scenes, in whichever office the local PD have cleared out for the team. He’s never hovering, but he’s not not hovering. Just working parallel to you. It’s why he likes the bullpen, for all its hustle and bustle, because he can look at you out of the corner of his eye whenever he wants to. He can spin his chair to face you, stretch his legs out across the aisle, and let a wave of sheer steadiness wash over him. Sometimes it’s you, reaching over to hand him something or abandoning your post completely to perch on the corner of his desk. Spencer thinks that’s what it might be, the peace you seem to exude that quiets his busy mind - the kindness you extend to victims and their families that flows through your very veins. It follows you like an aura, there’s very little he won’t do to be bathed in it whenever he can. It’s all led to a unique dynamic that means you’re paired up together more often than not.

You move around each other unconsciously now, leaning over maps and files and evidence. Swapping pens and ducking under one another’s arms as you both scribble away at the board. It’s almost choreographed, natural. Everything is with you, and that’s what gets him. There’s a part of Spencer Reid’s brain that is dedicated to considering his actions in relation to the people around him, running in the background like a computer programme, but he doesn’t have to run it around you. He doesn’t think, for once. He just does.

It’s effortless, second nature, to make space for you. The same as it is to leave a seat open for you, even if it’s the only one. To nudge you gently when you’re too far in your own head to realise you’re picking at your skin. You’ve started nudging him back in recent weeks when he does the same, chewing on the inside of his lips and paying absolutely no mind to the damage he’s doing. You notice, you care enough to stop him. Just like you’ll leave an empty space on the nearest desk for him to hop up on. He’s not sure if you realise you’re even doing it. Clearing perfect Spencer-sized spots at every precinct and office you’re set up in, because you know he prefers it to the chairs. Which makes his own actions feel a little less overt and, in turn, lets him breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this is just what good friends do for each other. He can call you that, at least, if his own fears won’t afford him the chance to call you anything else.

Though, he’s not sure he could stop himself from taking care of you in his own way if he tried. Mostly because he’s not trying in the first place.

He didn’t even realise what he was doing, the first time he turned to you to double check your protective vest was secure. Narrow fingers tugging on straps, barely even processing the inviting warmth of you underneath them, he’d been too focused on making sure you were as protected as you could be. And then he’d walked into the Unsub’s home ahead of you anyway.

Spencer never walks ahead of you, anywhere. He’s always ushering you in first, something drilled into him by some unknown force, his basest of instincts - you’re ahead of him into the office, into precincts, into crime scenes, even into the elevator. But in a hostile situation? He’s first through the door every time.

So much so that it’s routine now, wherever the case, whoever is around. He grasps the shoulders of the thick vest and wiggles it, he rips the velcro straps off at your waist only to secure them again. A little tighter, and he’s quietly grateful that you let him. The heat of you at his back is reassuring when scenes aren’t secure. To know that, based on his experience anyway, the Unsub will more than likely jump out ahead of him - and he’ll be the one between you and the bullet. Which is maybe a little dramatic, but it’s the truth.

“Ready, boys?”

Doctor Spencer Reid has never claimed to believe in any god, but he makes sure to thank something for the interruption. Anything to get himself and his giant crush out from under Derek Morgan’s microscope.

It’s Emily who speaks, Emily who tosses protective vests at him and Derek, but Spencer’s eyes are focused on you entering the office behind her. You’re concentrating on your own vest, securing straps that’ll only be repositioned in a minute or two. But you still do it yourself each time, as if you’re not expecting him to come over and double check your work. There’s no way you haven’t noticed by now. That he’ll do it every time, that he doesn’t do it for anybody else, that he spends twice as long checking on your vest than he does securing his own. FBI emblem emblazoned on his chest, Spencer crosses the room dutifully to conduct his little ritual.

Velcro isn’t quiet. It pierces through the background noise when he undoes the buckle at your side and tears it free, but his eyes don’t move from the task at hand. Yours are heavy on his face, the way they always are when he gets this close. He pretends not to notice.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly. So softly that between the chatter and gun checking behind him, only the two of you can hear.

It’s only now, now he’s certain your vest is snug as possible, that he allows his careful gaze flicker to meet yours. He struggles not to take a step back with the force of it.

“Of course.” He replies, reluctantly pulling his cold fingers out from the warmth beneath the shoulders of your vest. His smile, small, self-conscious, is returned tenfold and beaming. The same way it always is. He doesn’t know how you do it - see the things you see every day and still manage a grin wider than the Río de la Plata. Maybe he can’t explain everything.

He catches a movement over your shoulder, it’s Morgan. Arms folded at the elbow, fists tucked close to his chest, as he makes the exaggerated movements of a chicken. Head bobbing and all. The teasing support, because that’s all it is, is nice to have - but there’s not one member of the team who understands exactly why he’s so afraid to say anything to you. In an ideal world, he wouldn’t be. He’d be able to pull you aside and tell you exactly how many days it’s been since he’d met you, started crushing on you, fallen absolutely hopelessly in love. It kind of all started at once, if he’s being completely honest. And in that ideal world, you would smile that billion kilowatt smile and tell him you love him too, and even the paperwork from the bureau wouldn’t matter. This isn’t an ideal world, however. He knows that better than most.

Spencer’s been rejected before, more than even he would care to admit, by friends and lovers and parents and colleagues and strangers. But he’s not sure he could take it from you, not while you hold his heart so tenderly in your hands. Even unaware of the responsibility, you’re gentle with him.

He’ll keep you close, regardless, as much as he can without arousing your suspicion. He’ll keep making space for you and double checking your vest until every ugly confession claws its way out of him.

That’s enough, for now.

if you’ve made it this far, pls know i am kissing u gently on the forehead🧡🧡

i’m also thinking about opening requests for all things pre-relationship spencer bc mutual pining and obliviousness is my fav fav fav thing, in case anyone was interested👀

[rumeras]

Xavier | Drunk I Love You

saw a video on tiktok that gave me an idea for a short xavier moment so here we go :)

word count: 1.3k

✧✦✧

Tara was so dead.

You really had no idea how the night had gone the way it had. Your wonderful friend had somehow found out about a successful mission your team had completed. It wouldn't have been a big surprise that she'd found it out.. if it hadn't been a covert operation in the N109 zone that lasted 9 months and had come to a close days before.

But, she got her intel from someone (definitely looking at Nero) and dragged you and Xavier out to celebrate. The night was pleasant, or it was until you saw Tara standing outside a club, not the restaurant she said she was bringing you both too.

Two hours later you stand outside supporting Xavier's weight as he leans into you with his arm over your shoulder. Tara had disappeared some thirty minutes ago with a promise to come back, but she was a liar.

Xavier nestled his face into the crook of your neck as you stopped beside some parked cars on the empty street four blocks from the club.

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the action and you cleared your throat, "Xavier, can you stand up straight?"

You knew he was a lightweight, but you didn't think he was that much of a lightweight. He'd had a shot and half a fruity drink before his face had gone red, and two more drinks after that he was slumped on the bar. Babbling nonsensical things about wanderers and Jeremiah.

He hummed in response to you as he stood up to his full height and pulled himself off of you. He stumbled back at the action, you gasped and scrambled to catch him. He threw his arms up to ward you off as he swayed slightly but eventually righted himself.

"S'okay." He shook his head and you could see him scrunch his face up as he blinked his eyes, seemingly to clear his vision.

You reach a hand forward as Xavier tilts on his feet, your hand on his chest steadies him again. Once he's able to hold his own weight you go to pull your hand back but his own shoots to yours and holds it firmly to his chest.

"Y/N.." He looks down at you with hooded eyes, your breath catches slightly at the look. The warmth of his palm has you all too aware of how close he is to you.

The thought of his hand caressing your check, slowly reaching back and running through your hair causes you to snap back to reality and shake your head. You peel his hand off yours and grab his wrist to pull him forward.

"Let's get you home."

You don't get more than a step before he's yanking his hand from your grip, it's your turn to stumble back. He isn't there to catch you, as he's catching himself so you end up falling back onto the pavement.

You moan in pain as the throb in your tailbone sets in, you rub your backside with a dejected sigh. You weren't a very good babysitter it seems.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Xavier shakes his head to get rid of the fogginess, he squats down to be eye level with you.

He watches as tears prickle in your eyes, at the pain. One second he's just staring and the next his body is moving for him. He's wiping your cheeks to rid your face of the wetness before he can stop himself.

You freeze and watch as his hair falls into his eyes, the slight pout on his lips as his fingers dance across your skin makes you suck in a breath.

Xavier and your relationship was...complicated at best. It seemed that there were romantic feelings involved, but there was nothing but fleeting glances and the occasional brush of touch. You were too worried to inquire more into it, and he seems absolutely oblivious to it all.

"I have to tell you something."

The intense look in his eyes makes you look away, with a forced laugh you shake your head. You begin to climb to your feet, flinching at the sting of your butt.

"We can talk about it later."

His hand shots out as you stand up, grasping your wrist with an urgency you didn't know he had. You glance down at him with furrowed brows.

"Xavier—"

"I want to talk about it now." His eyes are much darker now, serious even. You sigh and try to pull him to his feet.

Xavier absolutely ragdolls out of your grip and flops back onto his butt in the street, you give an almost breathless gasp as you try to save him but fail. Completely surprised, you glance around to see if anyone is in the area but you two.

"Why won't you look at me?" His voice is deeper as well, the playful drunk slur is no longer evident.

Taken aback, you glance back down to him. He's leaned back on his palms looking up at you, the streetlight flickers above the two of you for a moment.

"It's 1am Xavier—"

"I love you."

"—we should really get back to our.."

You go quiet, your previous thought flung out the window like a frisbee. Your gaze snaps back down to him, he's swaying slightly even sitting back on his palms. The words formulate on your lips as you mouth them, just to ensure you heard them right.

"Yeah." Xavier nods his head and it droops a little low before coming back up to stare at you. His tone is so matter of fact. "I love you."

Blood roars in your ears, so many thoughts are swirling in your mind that you don't even think you can compile any of them into a coherent sentence. Xavier reaches one of his hands out to you, his fingers flutter, beckoning you closer.

Hesitantly, you place your hand in his.

Only for him to yank you down between his open legs. You try hard not to fall as you kneel in front of him, your thighs brush against his own as he curls his legs around you holding you almost in his lap.

His fingertips ghost across your cheek and move to grip the back of your head softly, almost like he doesn't want to hurt you.

"I just needed to say that now."

And by the way your cheeks flush, and how you avoid his gaze. He knows you feel it as well. He tugs you closer by the nape of your neck, you use your hands to stop yourself from falling into his chest.

The warmth of your hands on him to steady yourself almost makes his heart combust. The feeling of having you so close could almost sober him up, maybe make him rethink his drunk thoughts.

Your noses touch and your breath mingles together between you. You glance down at his lips, and he watches you do so. The flush tone of your face, and the heavy beat of his heart are almost too much to take.

"Xavier." It's a whisper but he swallows it as he closes his lips over yours.

You make a sound of surprise as your hand grips tightly onto his dress shirt, you don't know if its to steady your dizzy head or to pull him closer. He meets you in kind and uses is free hand to grab your waist and pull you closer, effectively moving your legs to straddle his own waist.

There's a seconds pause were the kiss break and you suck in a deep breath, your eyes meet. The need to be closer has you cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to meet yours again.

From peppered kisses to a full-blown make out session, your night had definitely take a turn.

Xavier breaks the kiss, his thumb hovers over your bottom lip as he gazes up into your eyes. They shine so bright under the harsh glow of the still flickering street lamp above.

"So, it's mutual." There's a pause of silence before you break out into a fit of laughter, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Pulling him into your chest you smile, "I love you, Xavier."

my first post!!! hopefully yall like it T^T ♥

[0omillo0]

Hai Riri ^^

So I've had this idea of Skz female 9th member reader and Hannie being in a secret relationship the other members don't know about yet, or at least they're kinda more than friends. And after a particularly long night of recording, the two of them are cuddled up on the studio couch and found in the morning. Let me know what you think <3

HAN X READER — our ‘not so secret’ secret

a/n: tysm for the request I loved it <3

synopsis : You are the newest member of Stray Kids, having joined the group as the ninth member. As the only female member, it’s been a whirlwind of emotions—navigating the dynamics, finding your place in the team, and balancing the ever-growing feelings you have for one of the members: Han Jisung. Despite your best efforts to keep things professional, you’ve developed a close bond with Han, and somewhere along the way, it crossed the line between friendship and something more. Late-night studio sessions have become your escape, where you both share whispered secrets, stolen glances, and the warmth of being next to each other.

Tonight was another one of those nights. After hours of recording, everyone else left to rest, but you and Han stayed behind, determined to perfect your parts. One thing led to another, and now, here you are, curled up on the studio couch together. His arm is wrapped protectively around you, his gentle breathing soft against your hair.

You drift into a peaceful sleep, unaware that morning will bring its own surprises.

˚୨୧⋆｡♡˚⋆

It was nearly dawn, and you and Han were still in the recording studio, the rest of the team having called it a night hours ago. After endless retakes and some playful banter, you both found yourselves sprawled on the studio couch, exhausted.

As your eyelids grew heavier, you felt Han’s arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. You snuggled into him, finding comfort in his warmth as you both drifted off to sleep.

the next morning..

The quiet murmur of voices stirred you awake. Blinking your eyes open, you realized you were still nestled against Han, his arm securely around you. For a moment, you forgot where you were—until you heard someone clearing their throat.

“Uh… am I interrupting something?”

You looked up to see Chan standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised and an amused smile tugging at his lips. Han was still half-asleep beside you, oblivious to the world.

“Um, Chan!” you stammered, scrambling to sit up. “We were just—”

But before you could finish, Hyunjin poked his head into the room, immediately taking in the scene. His eyes went wide, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Oh. My. God,” he gasped dramatically. “Changbin, get in here! You’ve gotta see this!”

Changbin appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes as if he were still waking up. He took one look at you and Han, then let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Are you two… cuddling?”

Han finally opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. “What? What’s happening?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his face.

Hyunjin smirked, leaning into the doorway. “You two are looking pretty cozy there. Anything you wanna share with the class?”

Your face flushed, and you glanced at Han, who was now fully awake and sporting a sheepish grin. “Uh… well, you see…” he started, but Changbin cut him off with a mock scream.

“EVERYONE! COME QUICK! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS!” Changbin bellowed down the hallway, clearly enjoying every second of the chaos he was causing.

“Oh no, don’t—” you pleaded, but it was too late. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway as the rest of the members rushed toward the studio.

Minho was the first to arrive, followed closely by Seungmin and Jeongin, each of them looking more confused than the last. “What’s going on?” Minho asked, folding his arms as he eyed you and Han.

Hyunjin grinned, clearly relishing the attention. “Our two lovebirds here were all cuddled up together. Isn’t that right?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, smirking as he exchanged a glance with Jeongin. “Didn’t take you guys for the PDA type,” he teased.

Han shrugged, pulling you closer and giving the group an unapologetic grin. “We just… got comfortable.”

Jeongin covered his mouth, failing to suppress a laugh. “Comfortable? Dude, you’re practically glued together! You almost had YOUR lips on HER lips!!!”

You buried your face in your hands, laughing despite yourself. “Alright, alright, you caught us. No need to make a whole production out of it.”

Minho chuckled, giving you both an approving nod. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two have been giving each other heart eyes for months.”

“Heart eyes?” you echoed, looking over at Han with a grin. “I thought we were being subtle!”

“Not subtle enough!” Hyunjin teased. “You two were about as subtle as a train wreck.”

Han laughed, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Well, I guess we’re busted.”

Chan stepped forward, clapping a hand on Han’s shoulder. “Hey, no worries. We’re happy for you guys—just keep it chill around the fans, alright?”

Changbin nodded, feigning seriousness. “Yeah, because if they find out, I don’t want to deal with the chaos. I’m too young to be trampled by a mob of angry fans!”

Everyone burst into laughter, the tension melting away as you all settled into the lighthearted moment. You looked around at your teammates, relieved by how accepting they were and grateful for their teasing support.

Jeongin pointed to the couch and smirked. “But, for real, can we keep the couch for napping and not… whatever this was?”

You and Han exchanged a glance, grinning as you scooted apart. “Deal,” Han said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But no promises about late-night studio sessions.”

Minho rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “Just remember, we’re watching you two.”

Han chuckled, pulling you in for one last side hug before everyone started to leave. “I guess we’ll just have to get better at sneaking around.”

As the group dispersed, Chan gave you both a knowing wink. “Looks like we’ve got another couple in the Stray Kids family. Dude you gotta stop cheating on your wife ‘Hyunjin’”

You laughed, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you realized how lucky you were to have found not only Han but also a family who supported you both—quirks, secrets, and all.