#but i could only handle sitting in the car so long and i ALSO need to conserve gas until theres a pump i can actually fill at

[altruistic-meme]

i think one of the worst things about this whole situation for me is the silence. i HATE sitting in silence. but i don't have any way to play music rn aside from my phone, which im trying to conserve battery on in general, which means no music for me.

[enhard]

sim jaeyun — “you’re in safe hands”

pairing: s.jy x fem!reader

not proofread, enjoy! (MINORS DNI)

: you can’t handle looking at your boyfriend’s nice and veiny hands without doing anything about it.

cw: SMUT SMUT ALLLL SMUT, everything is consensual, hand kink (obviously), a bit of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, riding, jake calls you princess most of the time, playing with your tits, slight choking, mentions of sending nudes??, lots of whimpers from him, jake slaps your mouth, established relationship, jake has a drivers license woahwoahwoah

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you faintly hear the ringtone of your phone through the buzzing in your ear. you slowly open your eyes, let out a sigh and immediately grab your phone to stop that annoying sound.. until you look at the now lit up screen of your phone, that your boyfriend jake is calling you.

you quickly sit up in shock, trying to clear your throat and answering the call, remembering that you were supposed to go on a date today.

“mm..yes my love? how are.. you?” you say, trying your best not to yawn in the middle of your sentence.

you can hear jake laughing at you through the other line. “princess, you’re still sleeping at this hour? i’m sorry for waking you up but.. it’s 4 pm already.” wait.. what?? 4 pm?? you were supposed to meet up 3 hours ago. how is it possible that you slept this long?

“don’t worry.. sunoo told me that he tried calling you since morning and you never answered, so i just let you sleep. instead of lunch.. could we go out to dinner now..?”

“ugh..fuck.. i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i slept that long.. is it okay in 3 hours..? i need to shower..” you reply as you’re massaging your head from the massive headache you got.

“of course love. i’ll come pick you up.. although.. does this mean i get no shower sneak peek??” he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes at his words.

“hold your horses now.. you might get to see me another time.” you smile.

there’s a few awkward seconds of silence, then he decides to hang up so you can get ready.

truth is.. you slept this long because of the hangover you’re having after a longgg night partying with your best friend sunoo. main reason why your headache is also present. —

you hop in the shower, actually debating to send jake a little picture or a video but.. you decide to be a bit of a tease. you just finish your shower and start getting ready.

you get dolled up all for him, putting on a nice laced dress and your favourite ysl lipgloss, that jake bought for you as a present not long ago. you get your phone and keys, locking your huge metal gate. your phone makes a few clicking sounds while you search for jake’s number to call him.

“baby, i’m right in front of my house. i’ll be waiting for you.”

“okay princess, i’m almost there. i can’t wait to see you”

you smile at your phone as you hang up, already seeing the blinding lights of his black suv, stopping right next to you. he gets out the car to check you out for atleast 5 minutes, offering you a kiss and then opening the car door like a true gentleman. you get in the car, the seats all warmed up. “good.” you say in your mind. it’s mildly snowing out, you needed this.

jake sits back in the driver’s seat, getting ready to leave. you turn to look at him while he’s focused on the road and you can’t help but admire him. you would lie if you said that he’s not the hottest man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. with his slick back black hair, a nice black suit hugging his waist while also complementing his eyes.

your eyes suddenly slip to his arms, more specifically his hands. they’re resting on the top of the steering wheel, his fingers so long and pretty, multiple veins following from his forearm up to the back of his hand. that scenery alone made you squeeze your thighs together, knowing you couldn’t act on it here..

there is only one thing you thought about on that silent car ride, his long fingers inside you. you needed that more than anything. right now. instead, you try to look the other way, your body as stiff as a rock.

jake looks at you for a split second wondering why you’re moving around in your seat so much. he smiles, reaching out one hand to place on your inner left thigh. “what’s wrong love? are you uncomfortable?”

you thought you would let out a moan right there, right as he placed his hand on your inner thigh. you quickly shake your head left and right trying to diffuse the situation. you accidentally look downwards at your lap, and see that same hand, now grasping the soft skin of your thigh, one vein getting more prominent with each squeeze.

you continue through this hell for a few more minutes until you arrive, exhaling when he gets his hand off you.

. . . you get to your table, through the reservation that jake made previously. the place is pretty packed for a high end restaurant like this one. you’re both making small talk, asking how your day was and.. what plans you have for tonight.. he’s flipping through the menu and all you can stare at are those hands. you begin to breathe more rapidly, getting impatient.

“who cares about food right now? all i want are those fingers in my mouth” you think, trying not to slap yourself from the realisation of what you just almost said out loud.

still, you finish eating, he pays with his black card of course. even though you keep insisting that you want to pitch in. he loves spoiling you every time and all you can give him in return are kisses or.. something more.

after another few excruciating minutes in that car, you arrive back at your home. jake sits down on the couch, manspreading while you take your shoes off.

“thank you my love.. the dinner was amazing. what can i do to repay you?” he plasters on a confused look on his face, almost replying with “you don’t have to repay me” but.. seeing how beautiful you were for him.. how you looked and how you got ready all for him.. made him needy. in a blink of an eye. he knew he was lucky dating you, and the thought that you were all his made him so excited.

“hmm.. there might be something you can do for me princess. you think i’m stupid? i saw how you were drooling over my hands. you really love them huh?”

you get a bit embarrassed, but you’re way too horny to deny anything right now. “yeah.. i really do… i need them. please.” you say already biting your bottom lip.

you can see him slowly form a grin on his face, not saying a word. he pats his thigh two times, to show you the seat you’ll have for the rest of the night.

you eagerly walk up to him and take off your coat to take your seat on his lap. he pulls you into a kiss that turns into a make out session. he travels his hands down to your waist, and you move yours to hold onto his shoulders. you don’t pull away from his lips for a long time, the taste keeping you addicted.

he makes you pull away at one point, smiling at you. he takes his own coat off, having only a white satin shirt underneath. two buttons of the shirt are already undone, showing his chest real well.. with a nod from him as agreement, you begin unbuttoning his shirt, in a few seconds leaving him shirtless. you saw those abs and muscles countless times yet.. it still makes your body have a reaction you can’t explain.

he softly tugs on your dress while whining and pouting. you laugh at his pouty face, finding him so adorable yet so demanding. “go ahead”, quiet words leave your mouth while looking into his eyes.

he does not hesitate. he takes off that dress almost ripping it off out of excitement, leaving you in your underwear. he uses his middle and ring finger to open your mouth, shoving them in and wetting them with your saliva. you suck on his fingers a bit, getting to be a bit of a show-off.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, taking off your panties now. he immediately starts rubbing your clit first, flicking it a bit and getting it all wet.. then he moves down to your folds, moving his fingers back and forth. you grab onto one of his shoulders for support, digging your nails in it.

“l..love please.. put them in..”

he does exactly as he’s told. he shoves both fingers inside you, slowly pumping them in and out.. you’re rapidly losing your mind, this is everything you wished for. you grab onto his wrist with your other hand, trying to make him keep going but.. to no avail.

he stops, giving you a signal to ride his fingers instead. you get into position, trying your best to move your hips back and forth. you moaned feeling his fingers in you, not being able to resist anymore already. when he curls his fingers up inside you, he was almost convinced you were about to cum.

you ride his fingers as well as you can, trying to get on his good side. he’s not quite satisfied with your pace, so he gives you a slap over the mouth. “ride them faster princess, what’s up? tired already?” you’re fucked up as is, his words are making this WAY harder for you. the moans are getting more and more consistent, figuring that you’re going to cum soon.

“okay slut, slow down now. i don’t want you to get too tired. i’ll make you bounce on my cock just like this if you’re a good girl for me.” but… you don’t slow down. with how much energy you have left, you keep going. “ahh..i need to cum..first..plea..” he cuts you off, his tone getting more irritated.

“oh? you wanna cum? let me help you cum then whore.” he grabs onto your neck, choking you ever so slightly while fucking you with his fingers. he’s moving his hand as fast as he can trying to make you cum. you moan uncontrollably at this point, getting so close to your release and not being able to talk properly from the choking.

you do end up cumming all over his veiny fingers and pants. the grasp on your neck loosens, leaving a red mark around it.

“mmm.. since i stretched you out so well with my fingers.. how about we put that to good use?” he smiles, that smile being far away from innocent. you know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give him that.

you catch up your breath, grabbing onto his shoulders again. “let me ride you then.” you reply, trying to be as nonchalant as you can.

you move your hands down to his pants, slowly slipping them off him. the bulge in his boxers is huge, obviously you already knew that but the thought didn’t comfort you. he’s usually hard to take in, now imagine being all fucked up and having to ride him. you let out a small scared sigh, while taking his boxers off too.

his cock springs up immediately and you lick your lips looking at it. you grab the base to stroke it a few times, before getting into position to ride him. you intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly go down on him. you almost feel like giving out when you take him all in but you need to make him feel good.

you slowly start riding him, his size almost being unbearable to take. he loves it though, he loves how you struggle to take him and how that small bulge appears in your stomach everytime you bounce up and down. he grabs and pulls on your hair just to make you speed up, teasing you with that hair pull each time he feels you slowed down.

you pick up your pace significantly, moving up and down, back and forth on him. your eyes roll back from the pleasure and it really feels like he’s splitting you into two. he stops holding hands to take your tits out of your bra just to fondle them a bit. he’s running his thumb all over your nipples, sending you shivers down your spine.

“such a good girl.” he remarks, coming from him this is a compliment. you smile at his words, motivating you to keep going. he’s very deep inside you right now, any sudden movement almost making you cum a second time..

you can hear him getting more vocal over time, he’s whimpering and cooing.. the usual tough guy that would control every movement of yours, is now getting so vocal.. you love it though, your favourite part of it might just be his moans.

you clench your teeth and force yourself to go as fast as you can, just to make him cum.

“fffuck…. princess hold.. on.. i’m close..” just music to your ears. you want to let this man fill you up right now. you push yourself even more to overstimulation just to make him cum.

he lets out a whimpery moan getting so close already.

“cum.. inside me.. please my love..”

those are the last words you can say before he cums all in you. he’s filling you up to the brim and you can do is smile, feeling his cum leaking out of you. you give him a sweet kiss on the lips then on the nose.

“fucking hell… maybe we should go out to dinner more often hm?”

you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “you’re so cute.. now, wanna join me in the shower? no games this time.”

“waittt.. so this is why you didn’t send anything from your shower today.. let’s go for another round baby. what do you think?” he says, hugging your waist.

“hmmm.. maybeee. if you use those hands of yours again.”

“well, you know you’re in safe hands with me.”

[reidmania]

STILL | spencer reid

summary ; loosing based off still by niall horan. You and spencer broke up and when you see him at a bar a month later everything comes back.

warnings; this is long pure angst with a (?) happy (?) hopeful ending. imma say female reader because there so many little things that indicate that. hella miscommunication, arguing, drinking, jealous spencer, i think its a happy ending idk tbh, let me know if i missed anything

a/n ; this is 4k words. i did not intend that at all, i honestly got so insanely carried away. im so sorry.

You regretted everything, in this moment more than any other. You didn't know how you were possibly stupid enough to be dragged into going out tonight. When your coworkers approached you with the idea of going out for drinks after work as a way to celebrate your promotion, you shouldn't of let yourself get sucked in. It took some convincing till you eventually gave in, but you did -- give in.

Going home to change may not have been the best idea, since it gave you enough time to realise what you were doing and how much you really didn't want to go but you knew your coworkers wouldn't accept your cancelation. So instead you made yourself look presentable, good even.

Things had been difficult to say the least over the last month, while things at work were great, mentally everything was horribly. It had been a month since you and Spencer broke up. A month since the last time the two of you talked.

He had called a few times, but you could never bring yourself to answer despite how badly you wanted to talk to him, some night you would spend hours unable to sleep, staring at his contact, although you never went through will calling him, too scared he wouldn't answer.

Once dressed you left, calling an uber because you knew it was a bad idea to even take your car -- the whole point was to drink, and you would need to drink. As much as you loved your coworkers, you could only handle so much social interaction without liquor in your system.

Arriving, you noticed the group of your coworkers waiting for you outside. You pushed a smile to your lips as you approached them. You had many coworkers of course, but you had your bunch who you worked with closely, the ones here with you now.

Elise was your work best friend, you and her worked side by side everyday. She was the one who convinced you to come out. Ethan was another one who you worked with closely, but weren't nearly as close with. Frank was older, he was almost like the father of your job, and then there was Chelsea who was literally franks daughter, she was nice, easy to get along with.

"Theres they are!!" Elise said excitedly, you appreciated the way they all dressed up. You were met with a bundle of flowers, being held out by Ethan. "We got you these, as a congrats present" He smile.

You're entire face warmed as your chest did too. You were lucky to be surrounded by a group of people who cared as much as they did. "Aw, Thank you guys." You smiled widely as you took the flowers, not knowing what you were going to do with them inside the bar -- but you figured you'd worry about that later.

You followed them inside the bar, instantly finding a table. Everything sunk into place, everyone talking and chatty after ordering drinks and a round of shots, -- it was great.

But there was something missing.

You tried not to think about it as you swirled your straw around your glass, filled with alcohol. "You look bored" You turned your head to face Elise. You pushed a soft chuckle pass your lips, shaking your head.

"Im not bored" You denied, because you weren't. You were just waiting and hoping that the pit of empitiness in your stomach would disapear so you could enjoy yourself. She frowned, "Come on, Lets go get shots" She said, offering her hand which you took gracefully.

As you walked over to the table where your coworkers were sitting at to find out if they also wanted another round of shots or not, Elise grew sidetracked, helping Chelsea out with the zipper of her dress that was breaking.

"Ill come with you" Ethan opted, making you smile gratefully as you thanked him. The two of you wandered through the bar, through the crowd of people before you finally reached the bar.

You and ethan made small talk as you waited for the bartender. When he finally came, Ethan ordered. A round of tequila shots. The bartender nodded, it was busy -- so he was doing everything fast. "I am not drinking tequila!!" You gasped as you looked at Ethan.

"Yeah you are" He smiled back.

The smile stayed on your face, "Tequila makes me sad" You said honestly. He pouted dramatically, although you can tell it was sarcastic. "Well we cant have that" He sighed just as dramatically, "I promise if you do get sad, we will make sure to cheer you up"

You smiled but couldn't help but doubt his words -- you knew what you'd get sad about, and you weren't sure anything he did would cheer you up from a sadness like that. The one you could feel in your whole body, every movement.

"Important night?" The bartender asked, as he poured the shots. You went to deny it, not wanting the attention but Ethan spoke before you could. "Yep" He said popping the P, "Pretty girl here got a promotion" He said, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You forced out a chuckle as the bartender congratulated you. Pretty girl was the nickname your coworkers had given you -- it was teasing at first and it started from Elise, but it kind of just stuck.

You got your shots and walked back through the bar holding the tray carefully, as you returned to the table you immediantly got a bad feeling in your stomach, something was off, something was wrong. You could see it in Elise's face as she looked at you.

"What?" You chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows as you placed the tray down on the table. She looked almost guilty, as she shook her head, brushing it off. "Nothing" She said, reaching out for a shot.

Your concern and confusion only grew. "What?" You asked again, there was obviously something wrong. You noticed Chelsea looking in a certain direction, the same direction Elise's eyes kept drifting over to.

Your eyebrows furrowed deeper as you turned your head to look in the direction they were, despite Elise' protests. You almost wish you listened. You felt your entire heart sink.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him -- Spencer Reid. He was already looking at you when you turned your head. You stomach dropped so far you swore you could feel in in your pinky toe.

You heard your name, but you could hardly pull your eyes away from him. He looked good. So good it made your head spin in a million different directions at once. Hearing your name again you finally pulled your eyes away from his, turning your head to face Elise who had concern lacing her features.

"Oh- Gosh- Are you okay?" She rushed.

You felt like your chest had been stepped on. You didn't say anything, instead reaching for the shot glass that remained, and downing it instantly. "I need to get drunk." You muttered.

"Whos that?" Ethan asked, he wasn't quite as caught up in your love life as Elise and Chelsea were. Chelsea scoffed. "Her ex, He is an ass" She said, Elise was quick to nod in agreement. Frank stood minding his own business, but you knew he was listening, he was always listening.

"He's not" You defened, because he wasn't. If there was an ass in the breakup, it was you. You weren't sure what sucked more.

Before Chelsea or Elise could say anything you spoke first, "Can we go get more drinks-- and move closer to the bar, I think ill be going there a lot" You muttered, grabbing the boquet of flowers you had been given.

Everyone was quick to agree, taking their stuff before finding an empty table closer to the bar.

You did exactly as you thought you would -- 4 drinks later, you were a lot mor tipsy but nothing seemed to take the pressure off your chest or cool the heat that Spencer eyes left on you everytime you looked over to see him already looking.

When everyone was engrossed in coversation you excused yourself to the bar, feeling the need for another drink or ten. When you literally asked for the most alcoholic drink possible, the bartender laughed but agreed.

"Congraulations" You swore your heart dropped at the voice. Your hands froze in place and you could feel the sweat building on the back of your neck. You turned your head, finally facing him.

Your eyes ran over his features -- his hair had grown out, it looked good. You wanted to tell him that but you couldn't. "H-How do you.." You wondered how he knew about your promotion, you were sure it hadn't been posted anywhere.

He rolled his eyes, nudging his head towards the table where your coworkers sat, you turned you head to look at them, noticing Ethan's and Elise's eyes on you and Spencer. "Your boyfriend isn't exactly quiet." He muttered, there was something spiteful about the way he spoke.

You whipped your head around to face Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before the realistion dawned on you -- He had heard Ethan tell the bartender about your promotion earlier. "He isn't my boyfriend--Why do you even care." You huffed.

Spencer scoffed quietly, "Yeah Im sure, The flowers and 'pretty girl' really prove that" His tone was laced with jealously. He was jealous. You shook your head as you pulled your eyes away from his face. "It's been a month" He muttered, quieter.

You frowned at the mention at how long it had been since the two of you broke up. "I am well aware of how long its been" You held back from calling him Spence, it was like muscle memory. "The flowers were from all of them" You defended, although there was no reason you needed to defend nor explain yourself to him. "And pretty girl- its a joke-- they all call me that." You muttered.

"I called you that."

His tone still held so much jealously but sounded so much sadder. It made your stomach clench on nothing but the alcohol you had consumed, you turned your head to face him before looking away again, unable to handle the way his expression pulled on your heartstrings.

"I know" You said just as quietly.

The bartender handed you your drink with an apology of how long it took -- you hadn't even noticed. Drink now in your hands yet you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You could smell Spencer's cologne and it was consuming your senses and making your mind fog.

Spencer ordered his own drink after the bartender asked, before he turned to look at you again. "I called." He said.

You wanted to cry-- you wanted to sink into the pit in your stomach and stay there forever. You felt yourself grow dizzy -- he made you dizzy. "I know" You said quietly, scared if you spoke any louder your voice would give out on you. it broke your heart to be standing here next to him, when he had no idea you loved him, when you had no idea if he ever loved you-- let alone if he still did.

He didn't say anything, you assumed it was because he didn't know what to say. He knew you were actively ignoring his calls-- What was there to say to that.

Spencer got handed his drink, he muttered a quiet thanks, but made no movement to leave his place next to you, you didn't either. Neither of you said anything. You felt as if your feet were glued in place -- although you weren't sure if you wanted to move either. It had been a month since you had seen him, and as much as it gutted you to think about, you didn't want to leave yet just incase this really was the last time.

"He isn't my boyfriend, he- he isn't anything more than a friend." You said again, although you didn't look at him, keeping your head down as you sipped your drink through your straw. You didn't need to push so hard for him to understand -- but the last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you had moved on that quick, it almost offended you that he genuinely believed you did.

He opened his mouth to reply, but felt a hand on his back, cutting him off. He looked behind him to see Derek. "What's taking so long, Reid" He asked, a teasing smile on his face. You looked behind you at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes his smile fell slightly as he realised what was taking Spencer so long.

"Hi derek" You pushed a smile to his lips - of course Spencer was here with his team, you should've realised that. They probably just got back from a case, which explained Spencer's business attire, but he wore that more often then not anyways.

"Hey!! How are you doing!" He smiled back, opening his arms to hug you gently. It was friendly a simple. You were close with a lot of Spencer's friends and team, being his plus one to everything for months. Penelope had reached out after you and Spencer broke up, but just like with Spencer you couldn't bring yourself to reply.

"Im okay, how are you?" You asked. You could feel Spencer's eyes on your face and it left a burning sensation where his eyes laid as you pulled away from Derek's hug. "Im good! We've missed you around shortcake" It was a nickname, because of a strawberry shortcake shirt you had worn one time when out with Spencer.

You just smiled in response. You missed them too, a lot. They were your friends, and you hated how you lost that and Spencer all at once, but they were his friends first. "I'll leave you guys be." You muttered, forcing a smile to your lips as you avoided Spencer's gaze, pushing off the bar.

Spencer said your name and it made your head spin, it felt so natural falling from his lips, like it belonged there. If you had to pick only one person to say your name for the rest of your life, it would be Spencer.

You kept walking none the less, holding your drink in your hand as you approached the table. You put it down gently as Chelsea and Elise were instantly at your side, asking what happened or if you were okay.

"I think Im going to go home" You muttered as you felt the all familiar tingle in the bridge of your nose, matching the lump in your throat and burn in the back of your eyes. It was too much.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Frank asked, the fatherily instincts coming into play when he noticed the look on your face -- there was no convincing you to stay. You just shook your head, "Im okay, Thank you" You muttered, as you began grabbing your stuff.

"I'll walk you out" Ethan offered, but you were quick to shake your head. You didn't need to look to know Spencer's eyes were on you from across the bar, the last thing you wanted was to only deepen his concern by leaving with Ethan. "I really just want to be alone." You said, pushing a half hearted smile to your lips, he frowned but nodded.

You said your goodbyes before pushing through the people in the bar towards the door. Once outside, it dawned on you how hot you were, the cold air giving your flushed cheeks a cooling sensation. You dragged your hand over your face as you tried to process what had just happened without bursting into tears.

You opened the uber app on your phone, wanting to get home to wallow in every emotion you had been pushing down for the last month. You should've known tonight was going to end badly.

"Theres been over 3,900 cases of sexual assult or physical violence from ubers"

You turned your head to see Spencer standing at the door to the bar, not far from you but not close. The street wasn't busy, it was dark and only lit by the streetlights.

"Thats less than one percent" You muttered, pulling your gaze away from him. "Who said I was getting an uber?" You asked, despite the fact that you were, it baffled you how he seemed to know everything all the time.

"You're alone, I cant see your car anywhere and the app is open on your phone" He said as if it was nothing. He was a profiler for godsake, of course he picked up on the tiniest things.

You sighed, closing your phone you placed it in your bag, "So what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest - now that the heat had somewhat worn off the cold air was leaving goosebumps over your arms.

"So, let me drive you home." He said.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, shaking your head. "No. Its fine. I think I can handle less than one percent" You muttered, turning away from him again when the heat began rising to your cheeks again under his gaze.

You could hardly handle standing a foot away from him, you doubted you would be able to last a ten minute drive back to your house in the car next to him, you were sure the tension would suffocate you within seconds.

"Why do you do that" He asked taking a step closer to you. You were already resting with your back against the wall, there was no where for you to back away to even if you wanted to. You furrowed your eyebrows as you met his eyes, he looked sad.

"Do what?" You asked as your voice hitched, the pit in your stomach only deepening the more you looked at him, the closer he got the tighter your chest grew, the more he spoke the more your cheeks heated.

He sighed, "Push me away!" He raised his voice slightly, not in a way of anger but pure frustration. He was so frustrated.

"I don- We broke up Spencer" You reminded.

He rolled his eyes, "I know that. Trust me I know that." He muttered under his breath as he got closer to you. "You did it our entire relationship, pushed me away, held back, and then you broke up with me, why do you do that?" He said, brows furrowed as he genuinely tried to understand.

"You know why we broke up" You muttered quietly.

He threw his arms up in distress. "No- I really don't-" He said, before dragging his hand through his hair, only making it messy. You frowned, shaking your head as you reminded him. "We were both busy -- we hardly saw each other, our heads were in different places" your voice raised to the same level as his

"My head was with you!" He shook his head, "My head was always with you!" He sighed, he wasn't shouting, not really, but it was loud enough to match your level.

Your lips parted but you didn't have anything to say. Your head was spinning at the intensity of the coversation, at him -- so close, his cologne and after shave making your stomach feel sickly.

"I thought-" You ran your hand over your face as tears brimmed your eyes.

"You thought, you didn't ask me-- you just- broke up with me" He was shouting now. You genuinely thought your heart had fallen out of your chest. "You pushed me away, and then left like it meant nothing, like it all meant nothing." His voice was breaking with every word as his voice rasied

"It didn't- i didn't think it meant nothing" You were shouting too, and tears ran down your face -- you were unable to help it, each drop hotter and heavier than the last.

"Just be honest, I just- I just need you to be honest, please" He was on the verge of tears himself, and you hated it. You hated the way his voice was breaking, the way his hand was grabbing his shirt, pressing against his chest as if this conversation was bringing him physical pain-- like it was to you.

"You want me to be honest?" You asked, you were now the one stepping closer to him, you were the one shouting -- not out of anger, but you couldn't better express the way this conversation was all consuming every part of your body, your mind, your stomach, your chest.

"I love you Spencer" Your voice cracked as the words came out, "I love you so much, it hurts. It physically hurts when you are gone, when I was spending everyday worrying you weren't going to come home, I love you so much that I thought me worrying about you was unfair because you love what you do, and I was constantly in the way of that. I love you so much that i thought if i broke up with you, you'd be happier -- I thought the how much I loved you would stop hurting." you were practiclly sobbing, you would have been embarassed if you mind was able to focus on anything other than the boy in front of you.

"It didn't, its actually gotten worse because everyday I wake up and your not there, and I still worry about you just as much -- more, i worry about you more. Everyday I wake up and im completely heartbroken. God everyday I wake up and Im still inlove with you, " You continued on your tangent, "I love you so much Spencer"

You didn't even have time to breath before you felt cold hands on either side of your face and the feeling of his lips on yours, you could taste the alcohol on his lips. It was familiar and safe and warm. Your hands found their way to his face, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss was messy and passionate and everything you had missed so much, it was the sort of kiss that made every thought in your brain disapear, it made your knees feel weak and your toes curl in your way to uncomfortable shoes.

You tried to pull away but his lips chased yours, bring you back into him and you didn't make any movement, only kissing him back until you ran out of air, feeling lightheaded. You stepped out of his grasp as you tried to regain balance.

"Ill teach, its not an issue i've wanted to teach, god ill stop working all together if it means you'll come back" He said out of breath, eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth but he cut you off. "I love you, I've loved you since the day that I met you." he was huffing out words as he stepped back closer to you, invading your space and you couldn't complain.

"I don't- I don't want you to have to do that, you love working." you said breathlessly, shaking your head. You didn't want your relationship to mean him stop doing what he loved.

"I want you" He said, voice cracking. "I love my job but I love you." He said it like he couldn't get enough of finally saying it. "I'll work it out so you can come everytime we have a case, please I love you" He was begging.

"What does this mean Spence" You said, heart beating out of your chest. He just shook his head. "Who cares! I love you, You love me. I will do anything, just.. stay - let me stay." He said, grabbing your hand.

"I love you" You repeated.

"I love you" He said back.

"Where do we go from here?" You ask, looking up at him with squinted eyes, you were sure your makeup was a mess, and you looked horrible but there was so much love and hope in Spencer's eyes you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Let me drive you home." He said. You knew that meant it was the beggining. You knew he meant that he didn't know but he wanted to try. He was begging and there was no way you were going to let him go again.

"Okay."

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @floralemi12 @laviatia-blog @reggieswriter @hazzarules @spencerreidsglasses @notarobotipromise @gghostwriter @taygrls @powerline-valley @october-baby25 @forevermorepassionate

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[barcaatthemoon]

be like water || fridlona rolfo x reader ||

you try to pull away from frido when your feelings become too much to handle.

you didn't think it was possible for you to be so stupid. there had never been a doubt in your mind about following frido and ingrid from wolfsburg to barcelona. they were your best friends, and it made ingrid feel a lot better if she was close enough to really look out for you. what you couldn't believe was how quickly you managed to fall for frido once mapi came into the picture.

in all actuality, you had always had feelings for frido. she was kind, caring, and gorgeous. however, she had always ever spoken about boyfriends. you knew that didn't mean your crush was completely hopeless, but you also had trouble imagining a reality where frido liked you back.

you could think of a million reasons why frido wouldn't have felt the same way about you. there would always be so many things standing in the way of your happy ending. you were fairly certain that frido was straight since she had never shown an interest in any of your other teammates before. if it wasn't that, then the age gap was sure to get you. you had been barely 18 whenever the two of you had met, and it didn't help that ingrid had introduced you as "the baby" of the norweigan team.

'baby norway' was what they had been calling you since your call up to the national team at the tender age of 15. you had been a super sub back then, but it had only taken you a year and a half to become a consistent starter. you'd been blessed with practically no injuries, none that required rehab or surgeries at the very least. however, all of that came crashing down around you at barcelona.

it had started with a little tweak of your ankle during practice. frido cursed herself for not noticing it earlier whenever you went down at the next game. you knew that it wasn't her fault, you had already begun to pull away from her. still, she sat with you in the trainer's room while it got checked out.

"frido, you don't have to stay here," you told her. ingrid was out on the pitch and mapi was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players. you had hoped that frido would have stayed on the pitch, but instead, she had been insistent on coming with you. it was hard for you to avoid your feelings whenever frido openly showed how much she cared for you.

"jona has already subbed me off. am i just supposed to leave you here all by yourself?" frido asked you. you opened your mouth to tell her that was exactly what she should do, but she cut you off first. "don't be ridiculous. you and ingrid were there for me whenever i got hurt. i want to be here for you too."

"frido, please. this is the last thing that i need right now. just, go take a shower and calm down," you said. frido couldn't come up with a reason to argue with you, so she reluctantly left you in the trainer's room. once she was gone, you laid back and took a deep breath. it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest once she was gone, only to be replaced by guilt clawing its way through your throat. frido just wanted to be there for you, but you couldn't get over your stupid feelings for her long enough to let her.

…

"so, tell me again why i'm the one picking you up from the hospital when i know for a fact that frido asked to do this?" ingrid asked you. she had been around countless times when frido offered to take care of you or escort you from appointment to appointment.

"we haven't gotten to spend much time together lately, and i missed you, that's all." it wasn't a complete lie, but ingrid knew that it wasn't the whole truth either. she pulled down a side street and turned her car off. you couldn't get out on your own, so the two of you were trapped there until ingrid got the truth out of you.

"did something happen between the two of you?" ingrid asked. you shook your head as you pulled your good leg up into the seat in front of you. you rested your head against your knee to keep it turned away from ingrid. "you still love her, don't you?"

"of course i love her, she's my best friend. i came all the way from germany for her, ingrid. i just didn't know that i couldn't be around her alone," you confessed. ingrid paused as she took in your words. you had always been adamant that you came for both of your friends, even if ingrid knew otherwise. she knew all about the secret feelings you kept for frido, just like she knew how conflicted frido felt about you.

"mapi is going to kill me for this, but i want you to stay with me for the next week or so, okay? neither frido nor i want you to be alone, but i won't force you to stay with her if you can't handle it," ingrid told you. you thanked her quietly as she started the car up again and drove off towards her apartment.

she didn't tell you about frido already being at your place. ingrid didn't tell you a lot of things, just like she didn't tell frido anything either. she kept both of your secrets until one of you were ready to come out with it. she wanted to help you desperately, but knew that it wasn't her place to put it all out in the open.

…

"i don't get it. did i do something?" frido was practically tearing her hair out as she sat on the couch next to ingrid and aitana. your stay with mapi and ingrid had ended over a week ago, but you were still dodging all of frido's texts and calls.

"it's not you, i promise," ingrid reassured the older woman. "the baby just has some things to work out, that's all. this is a difficult time for her, she's going through a lot."

"but why is she pushing me away? i could help her, but she won't let me." tears sprung to frido's eyes. you had always seemed closer with ingrid because of your shared nationality, but it had never been an issue for frido before. "i need a minute."

"frido, wait!" ingrid shouted. frido was standing, but she didn't make a move to leave her place. "let me drive you to (y/n)'s. i think you two realy need to talk."

"she doesn't want anything to do with me. i'm not you, it's okay," frido said. ingrid sighed and pulled frido outside. the drive from your place was pretty short, usually just a ten minute walk.

ingrid felt bad about blindsiding you, but this conversation couldn't wait any longer. both you and frido were tearing yourselves apart trying to navigate feelings and your friendship. ingrid knew how easy it could be for both of you, and that was all she wanted. she just wanted her friends to be happy, even if the thought of making a move terrified the both of them.

you hadn't expected any visitors, so ingrid and frido's arrival had taken you by surprise. ingrid shoving frido through your front door and closing it for you was an even bigger one. ingrid knew practically everything, and yet, here she was forcing you to be alone with the person who had been giving you so much grief for the past few months.

"i think we need to talk, but i don't know what to say to you," you told frido. you hobbled over to your couch and sat down. frido just stood in front of you and paced around your living room. "fridolina, calm down."

"no, i can't. i am sick and tired of being calm about this. you've got me worried sick. i care about you so much, and i want to help you through whatever this is, but you won't let me. i know that i'm not ingrid, and i'm sorry, but fuck! let me help you." frido's voice grew as she spoke, but she never really got close to shouting at you. "talk to me, please. i miss the way things were in germany, it felt so much easier back then."

"trust me, it was never any easier. we just weren't alone back then like we are now," you told her. frido glanced down at you, a look of confusion on her face. "i don't want you to be ingrid, frido. i love you for you, and that's the problem."

"your problem is that you love me?" frido asked you. you nodded, unable to look up and meet her gaze. you kept your eyes down as you felt her approach you. the couch dipped down as frido sat down next to you. you shuddered when her arm wrapped around you, even though you had been craving her affection since you started to distance yourself. "look at me, (y/n), please."

"i can't," you whispered. frido sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead. "i can't do this. i have to talk to jona. i have to go back to wolfsburg or just somewhere else."

"don't run away from your feelings. just look at me, please," frido pleaded with you. she was on the verge of getting on her knees and begging you to look at her. you didn't know why, but something in her voice compelled you to go against your instincts.

your eyes met tearful blue ones, and you nearly broke because of it. frido gently caressed your cheek, rubbing her thumb along your cheekbone as she stared at you. there was no disgust or pity in frido's eyes, which caught you by surprise. all you could see was relief. your friendship didn't implode on the spot because of your admission, which filled you with a relief that you couldn't even begin to describe.

"i love you too," frido told you. she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against yours. her eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes again. "can i kiss you?"

frido barely managed to finish her sentence before you were lurching forward. she caught your body in her arms, allowing for you to practically lay on top of her as the two of your lips met in a passionate kiss. frido began to push you back a bit to catch her breath. you let out a whine as her lips moved off of yours.

"i've wanted this for so long that i don't ever want to stop," you said quietly. frido smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "i thought you'd hate me if i told you how i felt. i had tried for so long to be cool and casual, but i couldn't. the more time we spent here without ingrid, the harder it became."

"i wish that you had told me how you felt, but i am not sure that i would have accepted it at first. i think we were both going through something, but that's over now. we have each other, and if you're willing to give me a chance, i'd like to see where this goes." frido's words made your heart swell a little with happiness. it was an odd feeling, finally having your feelings reciprocated. you didn't know what to do with yourself. you didn't know where things were going, but you hoped that they flowed as easily and naturally as your friendship with her had.

[sincerlycas]

handle that.

summary: plug eren takes his girl out to the mall after working overtime for the past days but gets into a run in and y/n gets the repercussions.

warning: plug eren, bad bitch y/n, black y/n, drugs, gun, toys, backseat sex, slight rough sex, full nelson, mature scenes, etc.

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

see one thing eren hated more than anything was being away from his girl for too long. it’s not like he wanted to be away from his favorite lady but he has a job and it’s a supply and demand thing. driving towards your apartment eren thought of what he should get you as an apology. not only was he not able to be with you but he was also ignoring your texts.

he was being bombarded with texts from clients and suppliers that he really couldn’t even sit for a second to send you a simple hey. but not today, today he was going to hang out and spoil his girl no matter what.

“hey mamas give me a kiss” leaning forward to give him a quick peck after seating in the passenger seat the turning your body away from him while fixing your skirt. “really y/n?” gripping your face eren turned you to look at him in the eyes. “mamas you know I’ve been working overtime there’s no need to act like this.” rolling your eyes you moved his hand off your face and looked out the window. “so busy you can’t even text a bitch ‘good morning’ ‘how are you’ ‘i love you’ or a simple ‘I won’t be able to text much I’m working overtime’ ?!” turning your head to look at him with a mean mug. you knew he was working so he could be able to spoil you like he always has but you still wanted his attention is that so hard?!

“y/n now you’re acting like a brat because you know damn well I didn’t have the time too so shut this shit down right now before you have sum coming for you. and put on the damn seatbelt imma take you shopping.” starting the car eren shook his head knowing you had every right to act how you acted but he wasn’t putting up with it today. biting your lip you grabbed the seatbelt and buckled up listening to him because quite frankly you loved when he spoke like that.

feeling a hand on your thigh you turn to look down at see eren rubbing between your thighs comfortably. rubbing his hands you look at the tattoos he had on them one specifically being a red inked tattoo of your birthdate located on his middle finger which was sporting your guys matching promise rings. “mamas you know id never deliberately ignore you.” stopping the car in the mall parking lot eren turned to rub the side of your face with his thumb while his hand rubbed the back of your neck.

“mhm” nodding your head you rubbed his arm as you leaned forward over the console and gave him the kiss he wanted. “atta girl” slapping your ass eren pulled back from the kiss and got out the car and helped you out and walked into the mall hand in hand with you.

“where to next ma?” holding bags from Chanel to Gucci eren carried them as he followed you mindlessly to each store you wanted to go to. “hmm how bout Sephora?” turning around to face him catching him staring at your ass you laughed. “nigga are you even listening to me?” looking up at you eren let out a hm? which told you your answer. “I said let’s go Sephora pa” hooking your arm with his you leaned your head on his shoulder as y’all continued walking with each other.

“y/n?! that you?!” turning around to see who called you and spot it was one of the guys you used to hang with but dropped him since he was acting weird. “oh hey jay” waving hi at him then turned on your heel to walk away but was interrupted by Jay stopping you and asking for a hug. you didn’t think nothing of it because you guys did used to hang with each other. giving him a hug as he asked but then you felt a large slap on your ass and two hands gripping it. “damn your ass still fat like I remembered”.

before you could let a word out eren punched the guy right in the face while you were still hugging him causing the guy to fall back while letting you tumble to the side. “eren- .” trying to stop eren by grabbing his shirt to which he moved you aside and grabbed ol boy and slammed him on the wall. “who tf you think you touchin like that huh?” landing another blow to his face eren gripped Jay by the collar not letting up. “m-my bad man I ain’t know” “you ain’t know? you didn’t see her holding onto me the whole time or what?” eren pressed the guy harder into the wall causing any bystanders to be blinded from what he was finna do.

pressing the cold gun against the guy’s abdomen eren looked at him straight in the eye “you gone apologize to her then you gone get tf on and speak nothin of this igh?” nodding frantically Jay moved aside and went to apologize to you then jogged off.

shocked you looked at eren who was grabbing your bags then went and grabbed your hand as well exiting the mall with you and making you guys hop back in the car.

starting the car eren stayed silent while you tried to process what happened. “eren wtf is your issue, I know what that guy did was wrong but you shouldn’t have caused a major scene like that if you were there for a second later you could’ve gotten arrested-“

“y/n does it look like I give a fuck about that shit right now?”

jerking your head back at his words you pushed the side of his head not giving a fuck if he was driving. “nigga remember who the fuck you talking to cuz I’m not the one remember that.” automatically after saying that eren swerved the car around and headed towards a empty parking lot nearby the house and parked. “get in the back y/n.” eren unbuckled his seatbelt and turned towards you waiting for you to talk back to him again, to which you did.

“ion even know why you’re acting like this bruh you’re trippin” rolling your eyes you sat down still. “y/n another man just slapped your ass but I’m supposed to be akeke ajaja? fuck no, let alone the fact you literally hugged his ass knowing why the hell you dropped him in the first place. you’re not fucking innocent so stop fucking playing with and get your ass in the fucking back !!”

staring at eren you saw how angry he seemed and decided to let him win this time because you knew If you kept trying him it would just get worse. “mmcht” sucking your teeth at him you took off your heels and moved into the back. while sitting down with your arms crossed, you stared at eren through the car mirror to which he looked back while lighting a blunt and began speaking while staying in his spot in the drivers seat. “mamas- I buy you shoes, dresses, jewelry, I pay for your nails and hair, I fuck you good, I cater you with everything and all I ask is for you to listen to me without running that spoiled ass mouth of yours and you can’t even do that” taking a inhale from the blunt while leaning his head back.

“that’s fine because that ends today imma teach yo ass a lil sum.”

that lil sum he was referring to was making you go through misery. “keep them legs spread or imma make hold your nut.” currently you were ridded from your skirt and your back leaning against the car door with your legs spread wide and cunt on display. “fuckkk~ eren please~” eren held a black bullet vibrator to your clit on the highest setting while scissoring your hole with two fingers. “please nothing shut that shit up” closing your thighs on his hand while closing your eyes and arching your back off the door shaking from cumming again. “y/n.. I know you didn’t cum without my permission, I’m seeing things right?” slamming your legs back open eren looked down to see you leaking.

“your spoiled slutty ass don’t listen for shit- now look you’re ruining my seats !” taking his fingers out your cunt and sliding them into his mouth while looking at you “you lucky you taste good.” whining you feel eren slide in slowly while putting one of your legs on his shoulder. “f-fuck~ pull some out renn~” pushing his stomach with your hand you teared up from how much pressure was being put on your g-spot and right after your orgasm. “move your hand move your mf hand.” slapping your hand from his stomach and dragging you to lay fully on the seat he wasted no time and thrusting into you harshly while holding onto one of your tits.

“e-erennn~!! give my pussy a breakk~” moaning loudly into his ear as he laid on top of you gripping the car door behind you pounding down into your hole with no chance of slowing down. “don’t act like you can’t take dick mamas, I’ve trained this pussy more than enough for you to be acting like you can’t , so you can stop acting up and take daddy’s dick?” biting your lip while wrapping your legs around him and nodding your head yes.

smiling down at you eren fixed your hair to move it away from you face and kissed you and sucked on your bottom lip “you’re so gorgeous mamas especially when you spread out for me like this.” kissing the side of your face eren leaned up off you and bringing both your legs to rest on one shoulder and started hitting deeper than before while pinching at your clit and occasionally adding the vibrator onto it.

“ohh shittt~!! eren n-no more~!! I can’t take it anymore~” pushing against his chest while squirting up onto his stomach and your thighs. laying there huffing and puffing eren watched as your eyes rolled in the back of your head while you squirted and smiled.

“alright I’ll give you a break ma, but when we get to that house you better be ready”.

fixing his clothes before he got out the car eren made it back to the driver seat but not before he shoved another vibrator into you and tied your hands together with his belt to prevent you from taking it out. the whole ride home all eren heard was muffles of his name and moans and those sounds were better than any song being played in the radio.

upon arriving to the house eren covered you with a blanket and took you out the car and carried you to the room. “t-t-take it out~” laying down on the bed naked and legs spread wide open with the vibrator still buzzing inside you. “why should I? I’m still not done punishing you because I know right after this is over you’re gonna still act like a spoiled bitch.” squeezing at your thighs eren leaned over you and took the belt off you hands and sucked at you nipples. “I p-promise I won’t, I’ll be good~”

chuckling at your words eren licked his lips and tugged at your nipple. “you’ll be good mamas?” “I’ll be good daddy” “that’s nice to hear ma but imma still fuck this pussy of yours up.”

biting your lip and tearing up knowing your pussy is going to be domestically abused.

today eren was feeling a little different so while putting the lit blunt back between his lips he put you in a full nelson and started fucking up into you with no mercy ! “o-o-omggg~!! why are you fucking me like thisss~!!” arching your back off him you squirted yet again while shaking on him. reaching his hand in front of you he quickly rubbed your clit in harsh circles to prolong your orgasm. “don’t act like you don’t know why- fuckkk~ I’m cumming~” gripping onto your neck and jackhammering up into your cunt eren cummed inside then calmed down after. taking the blunt of his mouth and blowing the smoke into your face eren spoke “you gone behave now?” nodding frantically not wanting to continue with your pussy being sore.

“that’s what I thought, try me again and imma handle that.”

commission for: @spaceforher

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Warning ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, child gets hurt (nothing major), unruly mobs, poison, hanging tree

“Daddy!” Cassian Xanthos excitedly exclaimed, running over to Coriolanus as you followed behind him, your belly just starting to swell with your second child so you're still able to keep up with your little blonde rugrat.

“Did Mommy bring you here to help me run the country, Cass?” Your husband asked your son, who was his spitting image at 4 years old. The little boy had the same light platinum blonde curls, the same baby blue eyes, the same prominent nose, long legs, and toothy grin.

A grin that was missing something.

“I finally lost my tooth!” Cassian proudly announced, climbing up onto your husband's lap as he sat at his desk in his presidential office.

“Yeah? Let me see it.” Coriolanus beamed, giving your son a proud smile.

You couldn't help, but to melt at the interaction you were watching unfold before your very eyes. Coriolanus, despite being a cold, callous, stern, calculated, iron-fisted leader, was a very loving husband and father. Around you and your son, he was a different man. A man that let his guard down, let himself have emotions.

Coriolanus presented himself to the public as a hard man and rarely talked about his family. The only ones that knew how much his family meant to him was the presidential mansion staff. And they knew better than to cross their boss. The staff knew that if they wanted to keep breathing and assure that their families didn't wind up banished to the districts that it's best to ignore how soft the cold hearted President Snow was with his family.

“Cass, put your tooth under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will collect your tooth; give you a reward.” Your husband told your son, making the little boy smile and giggle in excitement.

Coriolanus made sure to incorporate all of those little traditions he grew up with. The ones Grandma’am had shared with him when he was a little orphan boy, growing up alone and afraid during a war.

“Last time I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy gived me a gold coin.” Cassian. Xandros chirped.

Coriolanus cringed at hearing his son's improper grammar. Looking down at his boy, your husband corrected him with, “It's the tooth fairy gave me a gold coin, not gived.”

“Okay.” Cassian simply smiled.

Looking away from the little boy in his lap and over to you, Coriolanus asked, “Have the maids finished packing our bags for our trip to 12?”

Your husband, being the President, had to take trips to the districts to deal with things. It was mostly meetings with PK commanders and mayors, sometimes a few other things such as productivity at a factory or a mine. But he never went into full details with you about it. You usually just had to deal with him bitching about the incompetent people he had to meet with.

You also got stuck attending dinners with the PK commanders, mayors, and their families. Coryo always brought his family along on his business trips for that very reason. So that his family could smooze with the family of whoever he was stuck meeting with. Your husband was all about networking.

“Yes.” You nodded, leaning against the edge of his desk and resting your hand on your barely there baby bump. “Paloma, placed the bags in the foyer of the living quarters; I think the chauffeur's loading them into the car soon.

“As soon as I'm done with my paperwork we'll head out.” Coriolanus informed you, picking up his pen and resuming his paperwork while letting his son sit on his lap.

“Okay, but why do we have to go to 12? We both hate it there, can't you just send one of your staff to handle whatever mine dispute is going on?”

“Darling, I can't send an assistant. I need to handle this myself because, apparently, the last time I sent an assistant nothing got done.”

“Daddy, why you and Mommy hate 12?” Your son innocently asked your husband.

You narrowed your eyes at Coryo, silently warning him that the story of you two’s past in 12 wasn't fitting for the ears of a 4 year old little boy.

Yea… Telling your son that Coriolanus and you met each other when he was a Peacekeeper (and that he was supposed to be Lucy Gray’s beau), that he paid for an apartment you shared (he was supposed to live in the barracks, but he always seemed to sneak in and out before wakeup call), and brought you back to the Capitol with him wasn't a good idea. He was too young; wouldn't understand.

Hell, you're hoping that Cassian never learns the truth about how you and Coryo got together. It's just too complicated. Maybe even somewhat embarrassing in a way.

Your husband gave your son his old puppy plushie from his childhood. It was a plushie that your son slept with. He had to take it with him during trips, or else he'd be up all night crying without it. Cassian Xandros couldn't sleep without his plushie, Puppers.

And Puppers couldn't be packed in the suitcase. No, your son has to carry that plushie with him when going somewhere. Sticking it in the luggage gives him panic attacks.

And dealing with a 4 year old having a panic attack’s no easy feat. Especially when that child's the carbon copy of Coriolanus Snow. Oh boy…the panic attacks that Cassian would have over thinking his Puppers was lost were on a whole different level.

Like the end of the world, the 2nd apocalypse, and WW4 type of level. The little boy was unconsolable while having one. You would always hold your son and assure him that everything was fine. You'd whisper reassuring words to him and comfort him while your husband would find the puppy plushie and shove it into your son's hands.

Safe to say, it was easier to just let Cassian carry Puppers the puppy plushie onto the train with him then to pack it up.

“Daddy, did you bring Puppers on trips when you was little?” Cassian Xandros asked his father while sitting on his lap, looking out the window of the Presidential train car your family had just boarded half an hour earlier.

“It's when you were little, Cass.” Coriolanus corrected your son’s grammar, like he always did.

You just smiled from your spot on the sofa, eating some fruit while watching your favorite boys. They're two peas in a pod. You know that Cassian Xandros is most likely going to follow in his father's political footsteps when he's older. You can see it already.

“No.” Coryo shook his head. A faraway look appeared in your husband's icy blue eyes as he looked out the window over your son's head of platinum curls. Looking down at the little boy in his lap, a thin line of a smile appeared on his face as he explained, “I didn't go on trips as a little boy because things were scary back then. Panem wasn't safe like it is now.”

Looking at his dad, who was his hero, Cassian asked, “And you make it safe, right daddy? Cause you's President?”

“Yes, your daddy makes the country very safe because he's the president.” You answered Cassian before Coriolanus had the chance to correct his grammar.

And it's true, your husband had put many laws, rules, and regulations in effect when it came to the law and order of the country; to keep Panem safe. To keep the country running smoothly. Your husband had seen many horrors in his short life, more than you and that's something considering that you grew up in the districts. Your husband had an obsessive need for control and order; it showed in his political policies.

You never got into it. As First Lady your job was to just smile, go to charity events, host tea parties, etc. Oh, you also collected gossip for your husband, that he used to make decisions about who he should and shouldn't eliminate. But, as First Lady, your role wasn't as a ruler- that was your husband's job. Coriolanus was the President, he oversaw the country and you’re just his sidekick.

“You're mommy’s right.” Coryo smiled, only to ruffle his son's light blonde curls and correct his grammar, once again, with, “And it's because you're President, not cause you’s President, Cass.”

The trip from Capitol City, Panem to District 12, Panem was a very long and boring journey. Traveling from the Rockies to Appalachia was always a soul sucking experience. You and your husband avoid traveling to District 12 like the plague, but unfortunately it couldn't be avoided. It seems that the route was long and full of nothing to look at, but a few old crumbling ruins of ancient Pre-Panem cities.

Cassian Xandros, being a little boy, was excited when the train passed by the remnants of the ancient places. “Mommy, Daddy, what District that?”

Never looking up from his reports, Coriolanus told your son, “It's not a district son, it's the ancient city of Pittsburgh.”

“What happened?” The little boy, who inherited both his father's looks and thirst for knowledge, asked.

“Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll learn about it when you're older in school.”

“But daddy-” Cassian Xandros began, only for the president to sternly cut him off with, “I told you not to worry about it, Cassian.”

Seeing the dejected look on your son's face paired with his low lip quivering made you decide that your husband needed a talking to. That you're going to straighten him out. So, giving your son a soft smile, you suggested in a sweet and motherly tone, “Why don't you go to the dining car and ask an Avox for some ice cream? Hmm?”

‘Okay, mommy.” Cassian nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before taking off to go get his ice cream. A treat that you knew would make him feel better; would also get him out of the suite long enough for you to tell off your husband.

As soon as the door to the train car closed, you gave your husband a disgruntled look and told him, ‘Coriolanus, I understand that you're tense because we're almost at 12, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at Cassian. He's just curious about why there's ancient ruins outside of the Districts along the train tracks.”

“I need to prepare for my upcoming meetings, darling. I don't have time to conduct history lessons with a 4 year old right now.” Coryo said dismissively, as if everything you just told him wasn't important. As if his goddamn paperwork was more important.

Well it wasn't and you're going to let him know that.

“You're not the only one that's on edge about this visit to 12, Coryo.” Your said, causing your husband to look at you. Shaking your head, you admitted, “I haven't seen my brother Rein since he disowned me; called me a sellout and a whore when I became your girl. Going back there, not knowing how my family's going to react seeing me as your pregnant First Lady; the mother of your son, terrifies me.”

And your estranged family's opinion of you, after all of these years, did have you worried. You didn't part with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, on the best of terms. They made you choose between them and a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, Private Snow. You, in the end, picked Coryo. The man that took care of you while you lived in 12, who took you with him when he got discharged and sent back to the Capitol. The man who married you despite the way his Grandma’am turned her nose down at you.

The last time you saw your brother it was when you were on stage with your husband while he was giving a speech during a presidential campaign tour. Although district citizens can't vote, Capitol citizens and those serving the Capitol in the Peacekeepers can. So, Coryo decided to do a district tour to boost morale and votes of the Peacekeepers. He even made sure to use his background as one along with the fact that his father was General Crassus Snow during the election too.

But that was around the time you discovered you were pregnant, so…

“But I'm not taking it out on Cass; I won't sit back and watch you do that, Coryo.” You told your husband, needing him to know that your son couldn't be an emotional punching bag.

Setting his paperwork aside, Coryo stood up and sighed, “You're brother, Rein, and that ratty whore of his are idiots.” Going over to the sofa and taking a seat next to you, your husband snaked an arm around you, bringing you to lean your head against his chest. “I'm sorry that being with me caused such a rift between you and your family; you should've told me you've been feeling apprehensive about this trip.”

“Coryo, you know that I get over emotional from pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to bother you with my feelings about this trip.” You told Coriolanus, feeling like you're ready to burst into tears at any second.

At that very moment, your son walked back into the train car with an ice cream cone in his hand. Seeing you so sad and his daddy trying to make you feel better, Cassian Xandros went over to Coriolanus, only to hold his ice cream out and say, “Daddy, mommy’s sad. Give her my ice cream; then she'll be happy.”

“No, you eat it, sweetie.” You told your son while holding your husband's hand; preventing him from taking the ice cream.

You knew that Coryo would take the ice cream under the guise of giving it to you, but would eat it himself once you turned the treat down. Your husband has an odd relationship with free food…

“Do you want Puppers instead? He always makes me feel better.” Cassian asked, licking his chocolate ice cream cone that had every single once covered by chocolate sprinkles. That was definitely something your son got from his Snow genes. The love of chocolate.

“Oh, I'm fine, Cassian. Your baby sister's just making me a little dramatic.”

“But I thought Auntie Tigris said that daddy the drama queen in the family.”

“Looks like visits with Auntie Tigris are coming to an end.” Coriolanus coldly muttered under his breath.

“President Snow, Sir, we’ve arrived.” A Peacekeeper announced, walking into the presidential train car once the train has stopped.

“Thank you.” Your husband nodded, only to stand up and look towards you and your son. “It's time to go meet the mayor.”

“Is it still Mayor Lipp?” You wondered, standing up with your son and going over to Coriolanus.

You haven't set foot in 12 since Coriolanus did a presidential campaign tour years ago, before you had Cassian, so you had no idea what was going on politically in the district. Honestly, you didn't care either. But, you did need to know who the mayor was since that's who was housing your family for your visit.

“Yes, that wretched fool’s still the mayor.”

“Mister President, Sir.” The Peacekeeper acknowledged your husband, only to turn to you and say, “First Lady, Ma’am.”, before stating, “A Peacekeeper, says his name's Smiley, is here to escort you to the barracks.”

A puzzled look appeared on your face. “The barracks? But we're staying with the mayor.”

“According to this Smiley, Ma’am, the Commander here in 12 has made new arrangements for the Presidential family.”

“Smiley’ll tell us what's going on, darling. Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Coriolanus assured you, since he didn't want you to get yourself in a tizzy while in your delicate condition. He was always so protective of you when you're carrying his child.

But there was a need to worry. Unknown to Coriolanus and you, the miners were striking and protesting. And not just a few of them, but all of them. Apparently they were tired of working long hours underground in dangerous circumstances without being properly compensated.

The protests started at the mines, but by the time your train arrived at the depot, the station was swarming with District 12 miners demanding to be treated like human beings instead of slave labor. Peacekeepers were lined up, keeping them at bay with rifles drawn and threats to shoot. It was so bad that the Commander was afraid for the safety of Coriolanus and his family. Honestly, none of you should be there, but it was too late to cancel the meeting between the President, the mining bosses, the mayor, and the Commander of District 12.

So, the Commander sent Smiley to greet President Coriolanus Snow and to inform him of what's going on. To act as a makeshift bodyguard because the two men are friends.

Well, your husband only used his old bunkmate as a contact to keep tabs on District 12, but friend sounded much better.

“Coryo…” You trailed off, looking up at your husband. You were tucked into his side as he had an arm protectively wrapped around you, hand on your round belly. His other arm was holding your son against his chest in a vice tighter than that of a boa constrictor.

Cassian Xandros had his head buried in his father's chest, clutching tightly to his puppy plushie. The loud noise of the crowd of miners and protesters was clearly frightening him. To be honest, it frightened you too.

These people crowding around you were out for blood. You could sense that if the Peacekeepers weren't keeping them at bay, then the crowd would rush you and your family; tear you apart limb by limb- because they're angry at how they're living compared to how your family's living.

“We'll be at the van soon; then we'll go to the base and won't have to deal with the protestors anymore.” Coryo assured you, keeping a stern look on his face as he led the way towards the van as angry miners and their families shouted profanities. Smiley was up ahead, clearing the way, while the personal guards (peacekeepers) that came on the trip from the Presidential Palace flanked you.

It felt so unsettling, this short walk from the depot to the van that'll take your family to the base. To safety.

It should've been easy to get to the van, considering all the presence of the peacekeepers, but it wasn't. Because nothing in your life, in Coriolanus' life, can be easy.

No….

Because right before you reached the Peacekeepers’ van, the unthinkable happened.

“Should’ve stayed in the Capitol, sellout whore!” You heard your older brother's voice yell before feeling spit land on your cheek.

President Coriolanus Snow should've keep walking, guiding his family thru the crowd to the nearby van, but hearing his brother-in-law call his First Lady a sellout whore made him see red. Made him furious.

Motioning to one of the presidential Peacekeeper guards, Coriolanus ordered, “Arrest that man for assaulting my wife, First Lady Y/N Snow.”

The peacekeeper nodded, only to grab your brother (who put up a good struggle) and cuff him. Your brother was cussing up a storm while the crowd was screaming to let him go, that Rein didn't do anything. The protesters screamed that Rein was innocent; was being falsely arrested by the cruel, dictator President Snow.

But you know what Rein did to cause his arrest. He insulted you and spit in your face. In Coryo's eyes was that assault; something unforgivable.

But the crowd of miners and protesters (some of which were rebels and their sympathizers) didn't see it that way. All they saw was an ‘innocent’ man being carted away.

You don't know how it started, but suddenly people broke thru the lines and tried to swarm you, your husband, and your son. Smiley and your Capitol Peacekeeper guards were beating back the crowd so that your husband could whisk his family to the Peacekeepers van.

And you would've made it to the van unscathed to, if it wasn't for the moltov cocktail that somebody threw at your husband as he ushered you towards the van.

You heard the crash of the bottle and smelted the chemicals before your son's cries of pain sounded out. Turning around, as one of the Peacekeepers by the van shoved you into it, you saw flames licking at your son's back and at your husband's arm. A piece of glass from the broken moltov bottle was embedded in your husband's jaw as blood flowed freely from it.

A pair of Peacekeepers rushed over to your husband, patting the flames out of both his arm and your son's back.

“Daddy, it hurts.” Your son cried, referring to his boiled flesh.

‘Radio the hospital on base, I want the best treatment for my son.” President Snow ordered the peacekeeper that was pushing him towards the van, where you were sitting anxiously.

“Mister President, Sir, we'll get him to the hospital on base right away.” The peacekeeper assured your husband as he joined you in the van.

Coriolanus just nodded at the peacekeeper, causing the man to hop into the back of the van. You and Coriolanus tried your best to soothe your son as the peacekeeper sitting next to your husband barked for the driver to get to base; to radio the on base hospital to let them know that President Snow's son is suffering a burn on his back from the mob’s attack.

Of course, the peacekeeper driving to the base did as he was told. So, when your family arrived at PK Base D12 a stretcher with a medic and a doctor was waiting for your son.

Coryo was holding Cassian’s puppy plushie so hard, you thought the thing’s head was going to pop off and the stuffing would fly out, as the two of you were escorted into your son's hospital room by his attending nurse. His burns weren't bad enough for surgery, but they were bad enough that they needed cleaned, treated with ointment, and bandaged. The nurse explained that Cassian Xandros was asleep due to a dose of morphling he was given for the pain.

Despite him being asleep and on pain meds, you and Coryo just had to see him. Had to sit with him. Your baby boy was hurt, you both needed to be by his side.

Coriolanus might've been a lot of things, but he was a very loving and devoted husband; father. Seeing his son hurt because people didn't like him made him furious. He didn't care if somebody went after him, but going after his family was an entirely different thing.

And those District dogs that wanted prime rib instead of the scraps they got for mining coal all damn day are going to pay. They were going to pay dearly for hurting his son.

Because nobody hurts what's his and gets away with it.

Coriolanus canceled his meetings concerning the mine production, only to have the mine bosses rounded up in the middle of the night and thrown into jail. The reason? Well, they allowed their workers to turn into a violent mob; they didn't keep them in line. 

The President ordered the mine bosses to be executed at the hanging tree for being an accessory to the crimes of their mining employees.

Talk about executions…

President Snow had 100 miners rounded up and sent to the gallows as punishment for what happened to your son. It didn't matter that those people weren't the ones that threw the moltov cocktail. They were disgruntled district 12 citizens. They protested and pushed back; causing a rebellion. 

They're rebels.

Rebels! 

So they had to hang to serve as an example; a lesson on what happens when one goes against the Capitol. Dares to bite the hand that feeds it.

And your older brother, Rein. 

Well…

Your husband's currently having a meeting with him in his jail cell. 

“Heard you hung 100 innocent people.” Rein told Coriolanus as the imposing platinum blonde devil took set a thermos down on the table your brother was chained too.

“Those scum were not innocent. Their little rebellious outburst hurt my son and scared my pregnant wife.” Coriolanus told his brother-in-law, who he hasn't seen in a good 5 years, while taking a seat across from him. “I don't play around when it comes to the safety of my family, Mr. Halvir.” The president told the dark haired man, who had broad shoulders due to years of work in the coal mines, while reaching for the thermos. 

Rein narrowed his Seam grey eyes at President Snow. A man he hates for turning you against your kind, against the district that you were born and raised in. Oh, how your brother hates your husband for being your keeper, for turning you into a Capitol puppet.

Unscrewing the thermos’ lid, Coriolanus made the condescending remark of, “You should know that first hand, considering how I moved Y/N out of your shithole hovel in the Seam once she became mine.” 

“You made her choose between you and us when she was too young to even understand the damning consequences of that choice. I hope your kid brings home somebody you hate; somebody that drives a wedge in your perfectly fucked up Presidential First Family.”  Rein snarled at Coriolanus while the platinum blonde man poured some of the hot tea from the thermos into a plastic cup- that also served as a topper for the thermos.

“Mmm…” Your husband hummed, tasting the tea. “Still hot.” He remarked, setting the tea down in front of your older brother. Gesturing to the plastic cup, Coriolanus simply said, “For you.”

Rein looked between the cup and Coriolanus, only to nod and take it. His chains were long enough to make it possible for him to pick up the cup and bring it to his lips, but short enough to ensure that he couldn't lunge across the table to do the president any harm.

“How's your boy?” Rein asked, sipping on the tea. 

“Why do you care? He's just the product of a Capitol snake and a sellout whore, isn't he?” Coriolanus seethed, hate dripping from every word like venom. Leaning forward, eyes watching the miner intently as he sipped on the tea, he asked, “Do you have any little bastards running around?”

“No.” Rein shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “Me and Ashlie decided not to have kids. That it's not worth it, with the risk of reapings and all.”

Coriolanus’ lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Then the Halvir name dies with you.”

Rein's Seam grey eyes flashed with confusion, only for realization to shine in them as he began to feel his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, in a desperate, but useless attempt for air, your brother realized that your husband had poisoned him. He began to feel his blood boil on his body, feel it bubble up from his stomach and travel up his throat. Shaking, he used the last bit of his strength to muster out the word, “Why?”

Coriolanus pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, only to use it to stifle a small, bloody cough. A small side effect of drinking poison, but at least he had taken the antidote prior. He smiled wickedly, a thin layer of crimson staining his teeth, as he told Rein, “Your little stunt caused that crowd to attack me; to hurt my son. Anyone that hurts my family will pay with their lives.” 

Watching the light dim in your brother's eyes as blood pooled uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, your husband leaned over him and whispered, “Snow lands on top.”

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[writersdrug]

You and Konig spend the night drinking and wake up to each other <3

Unsure if we’re hung over or still drunk

König and you being drunk homebodies

Warnings: vomiting/emetophobia trigger warning!! Mentions of sex, drunk reader and König, fluff, König being the caring partner we all crave

A/N: I know exactly who requested this and I'm sorry it took so long 😭 I don't even have an excuse, it just say on the back burner, but here you go! Enjoy~

Photo credit to 661ave

You don't remember much from the night before: just glimpses of this and that.

You and König dressed up for the awards ceremony, a glass of wine in each of your hands, managing to convince him to dance with you... holding some bronze, dark cocktail in your hands as König insists it's the best thing Germany ever made. From there, it only gets worse.

You remember laughter and giggles, promises whispered into your ear, making you blush... König pulling you outside of the event, nearly tripping over your own feet as he dragged you into a taxi... watching as he threw a wad of cash at the angry driver as you both shamelessly made out in the backseat of the car... continuing the fiasco on the loveseat in your home...

And then it goes black.

Last night, you felt like a couple of teenagers escaping a party. Now, you felt like you'd just finished a triathlon.

You groaned. The sunlight peering through the blinds was too bright, your stomach churned, your head was pounding, and there was something heavy and warm draped over your middle. You tried to push it off, to no avail - König made a sound, and his fingers twitched against your side.

"König..."

"... mm..."

"Get off..."

"... m... mh-mm..."

You sighed. You needed water - your mouth was drier than a desert, and every cell in your body screamed for hydration. You could stand to take a bath, too.

You tried turning your head to look at König - which was a mistake. The entire room spun dangerously, and your stomach threatened to empty its contents then and there. You slapped a hand over your mouth and threw Königs arm off of your body with all your might. You stumbled into the bathroom, crashing into the door frame and collapsing on your knees. You barely made it to the toilet in time to spill last night's dinner, gripping the edge of the bowl like it was your lifeline.

God, you thought, when was the last time I was hungover like this? Highschool?

As you were emptying your stomach, you felt a hand scoop your hair back and away from your face. You saw König out of the corner of your eye - he was only in his boxers, sliding down the edge of the tub to sit next to you, his legs splayed out before him. He held his other hand over his eyes as you finished your business.

You panted, pulling the handle to flush and squeezing your eyes shut. Your stomach felt better, but your head was pounding, like you were being stoned. "Thanks..." You mumbled to König, and he grunted in response.

"Better?" He asked, still shielding his eyes from the bathroom light.

You groaned. "Yeah." You sat back on the cool tile, leaning against his chest. "Never trusting any of your recommendations again, by the way."

He exhaled, possibly meant to be a laugh. He let go of your hair and rested his hand on your thigh. Watching his thumb rub soothing circles into your skin made you feel dizzy. To be honest, you couldn't be sure that you weren't still drunk. Between the spinning room and the lightness in your chest, there may have been a bit of drunkenness left in your mind - but that could have also been from vomiting.

"Let's not do that again..." You mumbled.

"Mhm..." he said, his voice hoarse from dehydration. "What was it we did?"

"Idunno. You told me to try a drink - I think I had three- no, four..."

"Jägermeister..." he mumbled in a pained voice.

You both sat there for a few minutes, eyes squeezed shut as you focused on breathing. The feeling of König's breath washing over the crown of your head was soothing, even in your half-dead state. You would have been content to stay like that, sat up against him on the cold, bathroom floor as you recovered from your hangover.

Eventually, König threaded his hands under your armpits and helped you stand, guiding you into the bathrub behind you. He murmured something in your ear about "need to get something", before he turned on the shower and let the cold water hit you. You griped and tried to change it to a warmer setting, but he told you to let it run for a few minutes. "It'll feel better, schatz."

He left the bathroom door open as he trudged - stumbling was a better word - into the living room. Despite the constant fogginess in his mind, and the ache in his legs, he was a man on a mission to take care of his partner (and afterwards, himself). He began picking up all the clothes that he had torn off of you and himself in a hasty desire for drunken sex. He would have gotten hard at the memory of him plowing you into the sofa, and at the sound of your drunken moans and giggles as he struggled to hold himself above you - but his hangover prevented him from having any sort of reaction to said memories. The most he could do was laugh and snatch your panties that were hanging off the corner of the TV.

He piled the clothes next to the washer and dryer, then moved into the kitchen. He fixed two thermouses of water for the both of you, and grabbed an extra glass and an Alka seltzer for him. He carried the items back to the bedroom, peeking into the bathroom as he passed.

You stood in the shower as the freezing water hit your back, hugging yourself and shivering at that point. You eventually gave up waiting for König and turned the knob to the left; you sighed in relief as the warmth seeped into your bones, melting away some of the fogginess in your head and making you feel less grimy. You leaned your forehead against the tile in front of you - your stomach lurched a bit, but you knew there was nothing else to come up.

You heard König slide into the shower behind you, but you kept your head against the tile. He whispered something in German that you were too exhausted to decipher. His hand gently slid onto your forehead as he pulled you back against him. You leaned there, eyes closed as you let his scent wash over you.

"Mein liebling..." he murmured, massaging his fingers into your shoulder muscles.

"Don't call me that." You spoke softly. "You tried to poison me last night."

He chuckled, rubbing a warm, wet cloth over your neck and shoulders. "Almost took myself out, too, didn't I?"

After a moment of standing in the silence with him, feeling drag the cloth softly over your face, you realized that he was replicating your nighttime skincare routine. Except, it was currently one in the afternoon, and you normally don't do it in the shower. You would have told him that he was using the wrong kind of cloth to clean your face, but you decided to keep your mouth shut. Both out of gratitude and the comfort of his touch.

He carefully finished washing your face, then your body, making sure to be gentle and slow. He whispered unintelligible phrases against your scalp as he turned off the water. He pulled you into the center of the bathroom and wiped you down with a towel - you were practically asleep standing up, but he made sure to hold you steady.

After you both brushed your teeth together, he helped you pull on some clothes, before letting you crawl back into the bed. He then went back into the bathroom to finish drying himself off. You kept your eyes closed, listening to the ambiance of König's movements, combined with the sound of the breeze outside.

You looked towards the window and noticed he had cracked it open. You also noticed there was a thermos and a sleeve of crackers on the nightstand, right within your reach. You felt a sudden onslaught of emotions and tears forming in the corners of your eyes; maybe it was because you were hungover (or at this point, possibly still drunk, you couldn't tell), but it finally broke the damn, and you began to cry, quiet sobs and sniffles breaking the near silence in the bedroom.

Instantaneously, you heard König nearly breaking his legs as he floundered over to you. The towel he had held had yet to hit the floor by the time he was kneeling by your side.

"Was? Was ist falsch? Are you ok?" He said, placing a hand on your forehead with a worried expression.

You let out a sob. "Nothing, it's stupid- you're too good to me... you're hungover too- and you- you did all this shit for me- 'n here I am, not doing anything at all for you-" your words melded with your sobs, which had taken over the conversation.

He sighed with relief, petting the crown of your head and planting a kiss there. "Liebling... I'll always take care of you- even when I don't feel gut." he murmured. "You always come first - but I promise I'll take care of myself too, ok? Just for you."

You sniffled again and nodded. "M'kay..." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to stop the flow of tears - you needed all the hydration you could get.

"Although, promise me one thing-"

"Hmm?"

"Let's not to do this again. It's not good for you, and I can't take care of you properly when I'm like this."

You nodded again. You'd rather be in hell than have this bad of a hangover. "Promise."

König placed a satisfied kiss to your forehead again, muttering a quick "Geh schlafen, süßes Mädchen..." into your scalp. He stood back up and headed back to the bathroom, picking up the discarded towel and rubbing it over his hair. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, scoffing at the bags under his eyes. Not what I used to be, eh? He thought.

He headed back into the room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, and lazily tugged them on. He thought about putting on a shirt, but the idea of it made him cringe. He felt overstimulated enough as it was - the shirt would just feel suffocating. He then shuffled over to the bed and climbed in, pulling you against him with an arm wrapped around your waist. He sighed, tucking your head underneath his chin.

"At least we have all weekend, ja?" He said quietly.

You didn't respond, making him crane his neck to look down at you. "Schatz?" He said, holding his hand in front of your nostrils. He knew you were alive, of course - but the feeling of your warm, slow breaths against his fingers granted him peace of mind.

He chuckled, tucking his hand back around your waist as you slumbered on. "Süße Träume, mein liebe." He whispered, curling around you and letting his eyes fall shut.

------------

Bleh I wasn't too confident with this one, but I'm trying to clear out my drafts so I pushed it out. Hope yall like it! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 🥰

[moviecritc]

Pato bestie but you can pick the plot 🧡

kiss me ⋆ pato o'ward

pairing: pato o'ward x reader

summary: after ending second at the indy500, you comfort pato which leads him to confess his feelings for you

word count: 628

warnings:

a/n: i know it's been ages, but i finally came up with this idea, i hope you liked it <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Everyone was on edge when Newgarden overtook Pato less than two corners from the finish line. Pato's chances of winning the race vanished in a matter of seconds, and then Newgarden crossed the finish line with Pato arriving milliseconds later.

Both Elba and Y/N were there when it happened. Pato was thrilled that Y/N had come to the Indy 500 because it was the first time he had a high chance of winning, which made the second place finish even worse.

Seeing him get out of the car crying broke Y/N's heart. She had known Pato since they were 17 years old and had rarely seen him so devastated. When he got to the pits, they hugged for a long time, but couldn't talk much. Y/N let Elba, his sister, talk to him calmly and didn't see him again until they arrived at the hotel.

She was quietly in her room, waiting for news from Elba or Pato in case they still felt like going to the after party. Then someone knocked on her door. Y/N got up immediately, finding Pato on the other side.

"Hey, hi," Y/N went to hug him right away, pulling him into the room. "How are you feeling? Do you want something? We can order room service, they have literally everything." Y/N kept hugging him.

Her concern brought a small smile to Pato's face. "No need. And I'm a little better than before, thanks," he nodded, lowering his gaze.

Y/N knew Pato was embarrassed about how he had reacted after the race.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, right now I just want to be with my best friend, like always," he said, shrugging a little.

"That sounds perfect," Y/N smiled, putting her arms around Pato's shoulders. "There's a dozen little bottles in the minibar, grab them all."

In less than an hour, they had finished all of them. They were sitting on the bed, Y/N with her legs stretched out and leaning on some pillows and Pato in front of her, leaning on his hands. Neither of them was drunk, they had just drunk enough to speak freely.

"I'm going to order more," Y/N said, reaching for the room phone.

To her surprise, Pato stopped her, grabbing her arm. "I want to tell you something."

Y/N frowned, was what he had to say so important that they couldn't order more alcohol?

"You know you can tell me anything, Pato."

"It's just…" Pato was starting to get nervous. "You've been my best friend for too long."

Y/N could only laugh at how little sense Pato's words made.

"Are you drunk?" she said. "I thought you could handle more…"

Pato sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at her in a slightly different way than he had before.

"I'm not drunk, Y/N. I'm confessing."

Y/N took in those words, that thought had also been circling in her mind. She and Pato. Pato and her. They were very close friends, probably the best friendship she had ever had.

"It's just…" Pato continued, still without raising his gaze. "I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N."

The way he pronounced her name was completely different from other times. Something had changed, causing a totally different sensation in her body. Y/N gave a small smile before they shared expectant looks. Pato was fiddling with the cap of one of the bottles and Y/N waited for him to make the first move.

She leaned a little towards him. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Pato didn't waste any time.

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ i ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

author's note: i wont take tags for this im sorry 😭 also, i changed the faceclaim

masterlist.

The room is dimly lit. You didn't like dim lighting. It reminds you of your childhood bedroom. A barely functioning lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, your mother never bothering to change it. You were too short to change it yourself. You asked your neighbor once to do it for you but he had asked for a night with you in exchange so you kicked him out of the house before he could change the light bulb. You chose to study under the sucky light which became the reason behind your poor eyesight today.

You sit on a chair across Atty. Kim Jin Hwang, HAN entertainment's legal representative and one of the best lawyers Seoul has to offer, with a table dividing the two of you. He’s a man in his fifties, quite close to the age of retirement. He’s a veteran and despite his age, his mind is still sharp. 

You refrain yourself from tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. Anxiety does not look good on you and you refuse to show people that you're anxious. Anxiety is weakness so you keep your posture straight and make sure to keep eye contact with Atty. Kim. If you look away first, you're a coward.

“Tell me honestly. Is this you in the pictures?” Atty. Kim Jin Hwang points at the pictures sprawled across the table. They’re blurry and grainy and incredibly zoomed in. You can't even tell it was you from some angles. You look quite different from the person that you were when you were sixteen. HAN Entertainment is particularly fond of investing in their idol’s plastic surgeries and while they only fixed your crooked teeth, removed the hump on your nose bridge, altered your uneven ears, bleached your skin, and plucked your brows—which are quite minor changes—you still hold very little resemblance to the teenage you. 

You grew up well. Thankfully, you inherited only the best parts of your parents. Or at least, the best parts of your Mom. You have no idea what your father looked like, only knowing that he was from Brazil or some country in South America.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, not bothering to lie. What is the point of lying anyway? People have been calling you all sorts of malicious names across different social media platforms and you’re sure Atty. Kim has seen some of them. There’s no point lying to his face and saving your image anymore. Might as well admit that you are exactly the kind of person they’ve been yapping about. An illegal driver. A criminal. 

“Why did you do it?” Atty. Kim asks and truthfully, you did not expect the question. You expected the what and how and where and when but never the why question. You fall into a thoughtful pause.

“I was sixteen,” you shrug your shoulders, almost uncaringly so. “I wanted to leave home as early as I could and to do that, I needed money. Nobody wanted to accept student part-timers and I tried doing stuff like tutoring and doing other people’s assignments but it wasn't enough. I have a friend who joins street races. He’s not a good driver but he’s got a good car. He really wants to win so he cheated and let me drive his car on the condition that if I win, he’ll split me the winner’s money. I did it. I won races in that car, acting as if he was the one driving it.”

Atty. Kim gives you a long look. You don’t know what it means. 

“Alright,” Atty. Kimlifts his chin and rises from his chair. “That concludes our meeting. In the meantime, you lay low. We’ll handle everything.”

You nod, “Okay.”

True to Atty. Kim’s words, HAN entertainment handled everything. They released a statement that you watched one race because you were sixteen and clueless and didn't know you were getting yourself involved in an illegal activity. It helped that you drove under a different name so people were easily convinced of this lie. You knew your friend—the owner of the car— wouldn't even reveal that it was you who’d driven the car. His ego would be bruised once the people discovered that he cheated on the street races and a sixteen-year-old girl with no license and no personal car outperformed him. 

Additionally, HAN announced that you were to depart your group—ORACLE—which absolutely destroyed you because ORACLE had been the place where you felt like you belonged. ORACLE had been your goal. You worked yourself to the bone to the point of collapse because you wanted to be in ORACLE and wanted to remain in ORACLE.

Nevertheless, you accepted your fate easily. There was no point destroying the other members because of your fault alone. 

Your members cried for a whole week after the announcement was made public through HAN Entertainment’s official social media platforms and you spent every single day you could still spend inside the dorm reassuring them, telling them that you’d still be there for them, that you’d be standing behind them in each step to their success. You loved your girls so much. You wouldn't even choose to leave them. If only fate was a bit kinder to you. If only life was less brutal.

Furthermore, HAN made you publish a handwritten apology letter. You couldn't remember what you wrote anymore but you did remember how heavy the pen felt, how your hands trembled as you wrote each sentence, how writing the damn letter took three hours because you kept breaking down midway. They announced your hiatus promptly after. They used the term indefinite hiatus but it might as well be retirement.

You can't believe that you suffered through sixteen years under the same roof as your incredibly abusive mother, left home with only a backpack and a paper bag of cash just as you hit eighteen years old, worked your way in the harsh world by juggling three part-time jobs and a scholarship-shouldered university education until a scout noticed you, undergone the rigorous and borderline suicidal training of a KPop idol to-be, and sacrificed everything you had—mental stability, blood, sweat, and tears—just so you could pass every monthly evaluation and become your company’s darling, only to have everything disappear because someone found pictures of you predebut in an illegal street racing event. Fuck. 

You were fucking sixteen at that time! You didn't know any better. You only wanted money. You didn't have a license. Getting one is too expensive. You borrowed a car from a friend. It's an unregistered car. You drove the car. You won races. You stopped when you turned eighteen. That was it. 

Knetz decided to crucify you for a sin born out of your desperation when you were sixteen. When a dog was hungry, it ate whatever was thrown its way, uncaring if the food thrown at it was good or not because its primary instinct was only to cure its hunger. It was not as if you sexually assaulted someone. It was not as if you bullied someone and involved yourself in school violence. It was not as if you drank alcohol and drove or even involved yourself in gambling. Sure, street racing was illegal but you never even hurt someone! You never even crashed into someone mid-race.

You’re sure you’re going to leave the company and you won't fight their decision if they want you to do so. People spit out their gum when they lose their flavor. That's also what the industry did. You saw it happen too many times to too many idols. They collect pretty faces, push them to their limits until they could be loved by the public and once the public decides they’re not worth loving anymore, they’d spit them out. You are a gum in this story.

You feel like you’re eighteen again. You want to run away from home all over again. You ran away from the house you were born in once and now, you’re going to run away from the house you worked hard to live in. You want to pack your bags and board the next plane to another country even before the light of the rising sun touches the ground. That gnawing feeling of not belonging to a place that’s supposed to be home kept tormenting the cracks of your heart and the only way to seemingly get rid of it albeit only temporarily is to pick up on your feet and run away, never to leave anything behind you. Not ghosts, not traces, not memories—nothing.

But HAN entertainment won't let you. Yoon PD-nim knocked on your door, a contract in hand. He offered you an apartment to live in, a salary, a place in the company, and told you to keep creating songs. HAN Entertainment knew your talent in song making and producing was partly behind the success of ORACLE, their rising girl group. You were too useful to get rid of easily. 

And like that, you spent the last two years making music for every kpop group under HAN Entertainment. You mostly made B-sides for the junior girl groups, AURORA and PRIZMA, and the title tracks for boy groups, HIRA and 1THEBOY. You worked for soloist, Ciel, once for his last comeback before his mandatory military service and worked on half a mini-album’s worth of songs for ORACLE every comeback. Thankfully, the songs gained positive feedback from the general public. That was your ticket to keep staying in HAN entertainment as a ghost producer and ghost song-writer.

Two years. You rotted in your apartment and the studio. This felt no different than the time you lived under your parents’ roof. You felt like a ghost, present but also not quite there. It's quite fitting, you think. You're a ghost producer and a ghost song-writer. 

This was not a life worth living but you’d rather a life not worth living than have nothing at all. 

You empty your fifth cup of coffee for the day—an unhealthy brew of Americano with five shots of espresso—before standing up from the ergonomic chair where you’ve glued your ass on in the last two to three business hours. The demo for Sunset Paradise is almost finished. There are still a few parts that need major adjustments and refinement but you’re confident that you’ll be done by midnight.

Manager-nim enters the studio just as you reach the door. You jump, almost kicking the indoor potted plant inconveniently positioned near the door. The caffeine made you extra jumpy today. Once you get over your tiny shock, you bow your head in greeting. Manager-nim mirrors your actions.

“You're still working?” he asks.

“You're still bald?” 

Manager-nim rolls his eyes at you, smiling. You chuckle. 

Manager-nim, or rather, Song Dan, is ORACLE’s manager. He is a middle-aged man who only came up to your shoulders. He’s shaped like a square with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He treated you and the other members of ORACLE as if you were his daughters. 

“I’m going to go get coffee. You can sit here for a while,” you invite, gesturing to the tiny cream couch. You use your feet to nudge the potted plant and clear Manager-nim’s path.

“No coffee,” Manager-nim stops you, taking a seat. “That's enough coffee for you today. Sit down here. We need to talk.”

“You can't kick me out. I won't give you Ciel’s first post-military mini album and ORACLE’s summer title track if you do.”

Manager-nim’s eyebrows draw together, a vertical wrinkle appearing between them, “What? No. We're not kicking you out.”

Your shoulders sag, relieved.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single.”

At that, your entire body stiffens, eyes going wide as saucers. You let out a noise in disbelief.

“You're joking.”

Manager-nim’s face doesn't shift in the slightest.

“You're actually serious,” you rub your chin with your hand. 

What is Yoon PD-nim trying to pull now? Two years have passed since you’ve disappeared from the limelight. You're certain that you're not returning to the world of flashing lights and stage performance anymore and you’ve already accepted that your career has ended.

“Why?” your voice slightly wavers as you ask. Manager-nim sighs heavily, patting the vacant space beside him.

“Take a seat. We’re going to be talking for a while.”

The girl in the mirror stares back at you. She looks exhausted. She has deep bags underneath her eyes. Her shoulders are bony. They look like they're about to pierce through her pale skin. Her lips, which should be a nice shade of pink, are pale. Her eyes hold emptiness.

You pull your gaze away from your reflection and direct it to the bathroom sink, where a hair brush sits on the white tiles quietly. Fallen hair gathers up in its numerous sharp teeth. At this rate, you’re going to end up like Manager-nim—bald. 

You can't go bald. You have a weirdly shaped head.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single but before the release, he needs you to be in a PR relationship with someone.”

You hiss loudly, slapping a hand on your temple. God, you want to act like Manager-nim never said that. You don't want to remember it.

You? A PR relationship? With someone you don't know? How atrocious. You didn't even need to hear Manager-nim out until the end. You are out. You do not vibe with romantic relationships. They make your skin crawl.

“Listen, [Name]. This might be your only chance to come back again.”

“What if I don't want to come back again?”

“Then why are you still here? Why are you still making music? You're good at leaving so why didn't you?”

The public still terrifies you but you will never tell that to anyone. You can’t even go out and buy groceries without trembling. So many eyes. So many judging eyes. They're all waiting to destroy you again with their stupid eyes and stupid mouths with sharp teeth. A stupid PR relationship won't save you.

But what if it will?

You hold the edges of the sink and lean the majority of your weight against it. Your knuckles slowly turn white. Your knees feel weak. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

Why are you still here? A voice in your head asks.

I just want to be home. You reply.

Do it. This is your ticket to go home. It says.

You open your eyes and gaze into the mirror. 

Do you want to be home?

More than anything.

With a nod, you push yourself away from the sink and exit the bathroom.

Yoon Sang Hyuk, CEO of HAN Entertainment—the black marble desk name plate indicates; the text an intimidating shade of gold. The owner of the name sits behind the table, his legs crossed over the other. His face is sealed with a neutral expression. Suddenly, a satisfied smile works its way across his face and you swear the wrinkles that permeated his entire face doubled in amount.

“I knew you still had it in you,” he says calmly. “That's good.”

“Thank you,” you say, your tone coming out bland. 

“I’ll give you a manager and you are to leave for Singapore tomorrow.”

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Oh and [Name]?”

“Yes, Yoon PD-nim?”

“I know you're smart and you're hardworking and you're strong,” he begins. “I am confident you’ll do well so when you fly out there, don't be intimidated by any of them. You're as powerful as them. Remember the reason why you're there in the first place and do what you think is best.”

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you observe. 

It's questionable; the amount of trust he’s giving you. You already expected that Yoon PD-nim would send out an entire escort team just to make sure that you're not going to mess up again and get yourself involved in a PR nightmare incident. Who knows? Maybe someone will dig up pics of you copying homework from your seatmate in middle school and crucify you for being an academic cheater while you're out there holding hands with your fake boyfriend.

“I know you won't make the same mistake twice.”

You finally catch the underlying message behind his seemingly harmless words.

Focus on coming back and don't make another mistake. 

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Lando Kinder Norris,” you read the name on the folder, brows furrowing. That's a rather unique middle name. “British-Belgian. Born November 13, 1999—” 

It's good that your fake boyfriend and you were born in the same year. You're not very fond of age gaps.

“—in Bristol, England. Currently racing for McLaren. Car number 4. First entry is the Australian Grand Prix.”

Below is a series of long paragraphs detailing his racing history that you’re definitely not reading. Shoving the folder aside, you lean back into the seat and cross your arms over your chest. Your eyes flutter close. Jinnie, a HAN entertainment manager who looks like she’s half white and half Asian, gives you a judging look from her seat. 

“You should read it,” she advises.

“No,” you say.

“I spent hours compiling that information,” Jinnie frowns. 

“You compiled the wrong info,” you tell her, not even bothering to glance towards her. “Nobody will believe we’re real if I only know the things written in Wikipedia. You should have asked his PR team how he likes his coffee, if he prefers brunch dates or dinner dates, if he likes staying in or going out, if he likes the sunny weather or the rain, if he’d rather get food delivery or cook, if he’d like to hold hands and walk side by side or walk ahead of you so he can act like your guard dog. Those things.”

To be loved is to be known.

“You speak as if you have romantic experience.”

“Do poets have to experience the things they write poetry about?” you retort. “Immanuel Kant believed that everything depended on how individuals interpret and respond to his environment based on their personal opinions and feelings. I don't need to experience it to know.”

Recurring observations are your common source of knowledge. Reading is another.

And besides, this isn't your first PR relationship. You like to think that you know exactly what you're doing.

“Tell me something that's not written in the folder, Jinnie-ssi,” you open your eyes and tilt your head so you can lock eyes with her. “For example, why does a distinguished racer need a fake relationship? I can’t be the only one benefiting from this agreement.”

Jinnie purses her lips, “I don't know much.”

“But you know something,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Tell me.”

“There have been rumors that Lando Norris got a girl pregnant. The woman marched into Woking and demanded to see him. Apparently, he got her pregnant when they slept together in a bar,” Jinnie shakes her head. “It's a messy ordeal but McLaren recently proved that Lando wasn't the father. Too bad though, the public isn't believing them.” 

“And they think giving him a girlfriend would somehow make the public love him?”

“They need to show the world that their boy isn't an asshole,” Jinnie says. “That he’s a loving, loyal partner. That he isn't capable of committing fuckboy crimes because he has a girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

You snort. McLaren really decided that you’ll be the best girlfriend? How did they even know your existence? The KPop community and the F1 community are worlds far away from each other. It's easier for them to choose a supermodel, an American actress, or even a pop star. But no, they really decided that a washed-up KPop idol is a good girlfriend for their star boy. You can think of a few reasons why they chose you. 

“Are you sure he really isn't the father?” you ask. Companies can ignore morality for the sake of protecting their golden images. HAN Entertainment is no different. For all you know, you’re going to be fake dating an asshole who made a woman pregnant and refused to take responsibility. He’d be no different from your father who left your pregnant mother.

“Beats me.”

An hour later, the plane lands in the most expensive city in the world, Singapore.

You have three choices: a VAQUERA blue devil sweatshirt, Motel Rock chute trousers, and a Adidas forum low shoes combo, or a varsity baseball jacket, Bonbom rhee cargo pants, and a Curetty C round toe mary janes combo. You went with the varsity jacket-cargo pants-mary janes combo. You put on a bonnet to finish the look. When Jinnie enters the hotel room and sees what you're wearing, she immediately says:

“No. You're definitely not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with this?” you ask, looking down at your fit. This is what you usually wear. They're comfortable and acubi fashion is a trend nowadays. 

“You're a WAG now. Dress like it.”

Your eyebrow arches.

“WAG?”

“Wife and girlfriend,” Jinnie replies. Your confusion isn't absolved, not even the slightest. Your mouth pulls to the side.

“And how does this correlate to my fashion sense? Do race car drivers control their girlfriend’s fashion style?” you genuinely question.

“No,” Jinnie says. “But they’d prefer it if you dress in something befitting for a WAG, you know? Elegance? Classic timely looks?”

You put a finger up, “No.”

Jinnie huffs, “I’m not taking a no for an answer. Wear a satin dress. Wear cotton trousers and silk blouses. Look like you're from an old money family, not some hip hop dancer from the streets. You're no longer your own person, you are an extension of Lando Norris. You have to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way. Your goal is to make Lando Norris look good.”

You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek, annoyed. Your jaw is tense.

“And when Lando Norris looks good, you’ll look good. Good enough that the public will love you again to support your new song. Do you understand?”

She's right.

She's right.

You hate that she's right.

No matter how bitter the truth tastes, you are irrelevant and Lando Norris is your ticket to going back. In any other world, you will never ever allow yourself to become a jewelry for a man to wear. So you grit your teeth, keep the ugly prideful monster within you at bay, and clench your fists. You have nothing and when you have nothing, you need to be resourceful and make use of the people who have the things to push you to the top again.

You let out a sigh, “Jinnie, choose my outfit for me.”

Jinnie nods and leaves the room immediately.

It's three days before the Singapore FP1 2023. Jinnie drives you to meet Lando in his hotel. They organized a lunch gathering with you, Jinnie, Lando, and the other McLaren PR representatives who are responsible for this entire PR scam. 

You're wearing a Versace tweed cardigan and a boucle tweed skirt paired with high heel leather boots and Greca goddess large shoulder bag. All black in color. Jinnie is the one who styled your hair. She insisted on it actually, claiming that your beach waves hair isn't doing it. She flat ironed the hell out of your hair so now, it's straight as a pole. She also sprayed your bangs with strong hold hairspray to keep them in place.

The outside world is nothing but a blur of high-rise buildings and cement pavements as the car runs. You're picking on your nails. They're clean but bare of manicures. Your two pinky nails are a bit too short. You tried to stop yourself from biting them in the airport but you can’t resist.

Two years is a long time. A bit too long in your opinion. You don't remember the things you learned in your etiquette classes anymore—how to stand in the public, how to walk, how to pose in front of the cameras, how to smile, how to greet people, how to look completely in your element despite being anxious of having a thousand eyes staring at you, how to act as if you're not crumbling at the pressure of looking good for everyone. That's the only way they’ll love you. If you look good in their eyes.

“We’re here.”

You blink.

“Come again?”

Jinnie points outside the car window. The car stopped and you didn't notice.

“Sorry,” you mutter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You let out a breath, roll your shoulders back, and push the door open. Your entire face relaxes and you smile politely at the valet when Jinnie hands him the keys of the car. You ignore the starstruck expression on his face as you gesture to Jinnie to lead the way, following after her but not before saying your thanks to the valet. You're polite. You're trained to be.

You keep your shoulders square and your walk confident as you enter the hotel lobby. There aren’t a lot of people inside. There's a family of four in a corner, a group of elderly people sitting in the waiting area, and a group of posh friends chatting near the front desk. You can see a few heads turning in your peripheral vision. You can't blame them. You can be stunning if you try to be.

Your heart begins to ram violently against your rib cage. A million butterflies infest your intestines. Your ankles feel like it’ll snap in half a few minutes later. Your mind chants: DID THEY NOTICE HOW SCARED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE HOW TERRIFIED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE? DID THEY?

You want your ball cap and your sunglasses and your face mask. You want to hide your face.

You have to control your breathing as subtly as you can but you continue walking as if you're the prettiest yet the most down-to-earth creature to ever grace the planet. You fix your hair again once Jinnie and you stop in front of the elevator. Jinnie presses a button and you wait. While waiting, you twist the sole of your boot against the floor. It's better than tapping it against the floor. The elevator dings and the two of you enter the empty box.

When the doors close, your knees give out. You slam your hands against the stainless steel walls to stop yourself from dropping to your knees on the floor. Jinnie’s hands wrap around your waist, supporting as you pull yourself up. Her face contorts in worry.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you lay your palm against your chest, right above your drumming heart. “Thanks.”

You straighten up, tugging the hem of your Versace tweed outfit to smoothen the creases and fixing your hair again. You clear your throat. The elevator dings and the doors open. You step out and your mask slides in place. 

Jinnie leads you to a private dining hall. In the middle of a hall is a table occupied by five people wearing tacky orange-black polo shirts. You recognize one of them to be your fake boyfriend, Lando Norris. 

Jinnie had already shown you what he looked like in her tablet and a few printed pictures but the pictures didn't do him justice. He looks extra charming personally.

He's still not your type.

The entire group rises to a stand just as you and Jinnie reach the table. You give a ninety degree bow, hands flat on the collar of your top so you won't accidentally give the McLaren people a view of your chest. (It's not like they have something to see anyway. Your chest is flatter than a rice field.) The edges of your lips curl upwards in a polite smile. You see Lando, your supposed fake boyfriend, try to imitate the bow, although he doesn't go as deep as you did. Your head tilts slightly at his action. 

Jinnie is the first one who speaks, stretching a hand in front of her to shake hands with the McLaren team. She introduces herself in fluent English, “I’m Jinnie Jo of HAN Entertainment. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is [Name].”

They each introduce themselves one by one. Nicole, Greg, Kyla, and Louis. You try to memorize their faces and their names, drilling it into your brain so you won't forget. You're going to be working closely with them after all.

“Hi,” you greet them. You also shake hands with each of them. It feels weird, shaking hands as greetings. You are more accustomed to bowing. 

“Wow, Jinnie, your accent is good,” Kyla compliments your manager.

“Thank you,” Jinnie smiles pleasantly. “I was born in Chicago. English is my first language.”

“How about her? Does she speak English?” Louis inquires. He's giving you a funny look. You ignore it.

“She does,” you smile at him pleasantly. “I’m very fluent. You don't have to worry.”

Risha, the Canadian member of ORACLE, was the one who helped you master English. You even have a Canadian accent when you speak English because of her. Additionally, you also took language classes when you were a trainee—Japanese, Chinese, English, and you even requested Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Korean sign language. You dabbled a bit on Tagalog, too, because you know how large the ORACLE fanbase is in the Philippines. You continued taking the classes up even after debut, even after all the members of the group had stopped, because you wanted to master the languages for the fans, to be able to hold conversations with them, to connect with them. You only stopped going to the classes after leaving the group two years ago. It's nice to see that your English skills are still in perfect shape.

“Please take a seat,” Nicole invites. You and Jinnie sit down. You place your bag on the empty chair beside you and when you pull your gaze up, you coincidentally meet Lando’s eyes. They're blue and green with flecks of hazel dusted in the middle. It's the first time you've seen someone with eyes wielding three different colors. They're stunning.

You smile at him. He smiles back and then averts his gaze. You turn to Nicole, who’s sitting beside you.

“Now,” she says, putting two folders on the table. She slides them towards you and Jinnie. Jinnie picks them up. You don't. Instead, you stare at them. 

“What are these?” you question, slowly bringing your eyes up and meeting Nicole’s gaze.

“Contracts,” she answers.

“Contracts?” you echo, picking the folder up and opening it. You take your sweet time reading from top to bottom, tilting your head a bit to the side.

“You don't have to read it all. It's all just formalities. Just sign it,” Louis inputs. “Reading can be hard for you since it's not your first language—”

“I read just fine,” you interrupt, not glancing up as your eyes thoughtfully scan through the words printed on the paper. “Thank you for the concern but this is a contract that involves me and my future. I wish to know what I’m agreeing to.”

Louis wisely keeps his mouth shut. You put your hand on your mouth so you can discreetly smirk.

When you finish reading, you slowly set the folder back on the table. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you tap your finger on the wooden surface of the table. 

“This is unfairly written, don't you agree?” you ask. “You're putting rather lots of demands on me but so little on him.”

From beside you, Jinnie thins her lips. You know she's also thinking the same thing. Fucking HAN Entertainment. They didn't even make sure that the contents of the contracts are not disadvantageous towards you. You are disappointed but not surprised. They really just sent you to be devoured by wolves and demanded you to not make a mistake.

McLaren also thinks they can just choose a washed-up KPop idol to cosplay as their golden boy’s trophy girlfriend and make her do all their demands with little benefits and zero complaint. They deliberately chose someone who still holds popularity but little power. Someone who needs them as badly as they need her. They chose you.

Assholes. The two of them.

“What do you want him to do anyway?” Louis sneers. His face is beginning to look a little too annoying. “He's busy building his career. All you have to do is support him and make sure everyone knows it because you have none. That's all. Or is that a little hard for you?”

Louis is getting this all wrong. Jinnie told you that you're going to fix his reputation for him so his career wouldn't be ruined. In exchange, he gives you publicity so you could bring your career back from ruination. This is not a parasitic relationship where only their side gets the benefits. How could you even work on that comeback of yours if you're going to be glued by his side? 

Your jaw ticks with restraint yet you choose to smile, “He’s not the only one building his career.”

You pick up the folder and toss it to Jinnie, who catches it skillfully. 

“Throw that away. We're flying home. I don't need a PR relationship to promote my single that much.”

Satisfaction fills you when their faces grow alarmed. 

Ha.

“Wait,” Kyla stands and she shoots a dirty glance towards Louis. Your eyebrows scrunch a little. “The contracts are open to revisions.”

You clap your hands together, smiling widely.

“Perfect. Jinnie, hand me a pen.”

The team leaves you and Lando alone in the hall to eat, to give you both a chance to get to know each other. 

You allow your eyes to scan the hall. It has a bright spacious ambiance. The windows are stretched from the floor to the ceiling, allowing as much natural light inside. Singapore looks absolutely breathtaking down below. The flooring is made out of natural pine and a crystal chandelier hangs atop the table where you and Lando ate. You keep thinking: what if it'll fall? You shake the thought out of your head and put a fork full of pasta into your mouth.

“Is the pasta good?” Lando asks. You nod, humming and smiling. You don't like it one bit. You're also mildly allergic to shellfish. You're definitely going to get a bad case of rash later. You hope Jinnie is prepared with a medicine kit. You forgot to bring yours.

You wipe your mouth with your table napkin, announcing, “I’m full.”

You have only eaten half the plate.

“Oh you have a…” Lando points at the corner of his lips. You wipe the same area in your face. “No, the other side.”

You wipe the other side, “Is it gone?”

“Allow me,” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table to thumb the stain. 

“Is it gone?” you ask again. Lando nods.

“Yeah, it is.”

He goes back to his seat.

“Thank you,” you smile. “You're already doing great with the whole fake boyfriend act.”

A flustered smile splits Lando’s face, shaking his head.

“I try.”

“By the way,” you begin, leaning a little forward. “Did they also give you a folder with my information?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

“Did they also suck?”

He purses his lips.

“Well….” he drawls.

“You can tell me if it sucks. The one my manager gave me looks like it's copy-pasted from Wikipedia.”

Lando chuckles. 

“I mean, your biography is very…detailed? Too detailed, I think. I didn't remember most of them, sorry. I only remember a few of them. Like your birthday. January 1, 2000.”

“1999.”

“Pardon?”

You wave your hand in a theatrical flourish, “I was born in 1999. The company manipulated my public information.”

Lando’s brows raise in surprise.

“They do that?”

“You’ll be surprised,” you lean back into your chair.

“But why?”

“So every member in ORACLE can be born in 2000. I don't know,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“That seems like an unnecessary change.”

“It is,” you agree. “But HAN wants everything to be perfect. They see a flaw. They fix it to their liking immediately.”

“What are the other things that are a scam in your biography?”

“Scam is a big word,” you tell him, amused. “But I’ll tell you. In exchange, tell me about yourself. Not the info I can read in Wikipedia. In order to make this work, I have to know you.”

To be loved is to be known.

“Alright,” Lando says. “We can take turns asking each other questions.”

“Cool,” you bring a glass of water towards your lips, taking a sip. “I’ll start. How do you like your coffee?”

[damiansgoodgirll]

So girl, I’ve seen Beyonce is your favourite singer and she’s my favourite singer so could you please write Reader where she is a huge fan and she’s part of the judgment day and more like Rhea and Damian, she reacts to the album with them and they can’t understand like the hype or something like that because they are not into that genre and like reader has some crazy reaction.

Please it would be so fun! Thank you so my queen 🐝❤️

please, i always imagined what would their reactions be to beyonce or singers they don’t listen to lol, i’m so happy to make this request!

notes : i love rock music and metal too! i just needed to make reader a beyhive and make her hating metal music (please forgive me), also listen to this masterpiece thank you!

damian priest x reader x rhea ripley (PLATONIC)

cowboys

you always loved sharing car rides and hotel rooms with your teammates, especially damian and rhea. they were the first people to ask you to join them in the judgment day, seeing your potential in nxt and being barely twenty one, they wanted to give you a bigger opportunity and so they took you under their protective wing.

finn and dom were nice too, they helped you growing in your skills in the past year and they all took a liking in you but you had a bigger connection with rhea and damian.

they always pushed you, making you reach goals you thought were impossible and you couldn’t thank them enough.

there was one thing you didn’t like about them.

their favourite type of music.

rock. metal. punk. whatever they were listening to. you just couldn’t handle it. there was just one rock song you liked and it was beyoncé’s “don’t hurt yourself” rock song.

so long car rides with them were always a torture. you tried to make conversation most of the time but when it was a 7 hour ride, eventually you would finish topics and so you had to listen to them singing or more - screaming - to their songs.

they usually let you choose one or two songs, but that was it. and everytime you would choose rihanna or beyonce they would take over it.

finn once told you that metal heads only cared about their favourite music. the rest was trash for them. you didn’t believe him at first, thinking he was only overreacting but in this year you realised how right he was.

it’s like they were allergic to beyonce.

but tonight, oh, tonight it was going to be your night.

you were currently in the same hotel room as they were as rhea wanted to share a room with you all. you knew what was coming at midnight and so you asked multiple times to have a separate room from them, you didn’t give them explanations but rhea wasn’t having it.

so, a huge bedroom with two kings sized bed - one for damian and the other one for rhea and you - and a huge tv with all the apps you needed, spotify included was what you got.

the shock came when the track list dropped a day prior, letting you know that there were going to be 27 songs.

they can barely handle one song, how were they going to react to 27 songs?

you still didn’t ask them, as whatever band rhea was playing on spotify - probably motionless in white - were blasting in the room and you were currently fidgeting with your fingers.

the best guess was probably that they would leave you alone for two hours or so. maybe going at the gym or somewhere else. the worst guess was that they probably would laugh at you and telling you no. that would be the worst because you had been waiting for this album since the announcement day and you were already excited at the thought of a new beyonce album.

fifteen minutes to the album drop and you were already imagining yourself leaving the room to go somewhere else to listen to the album.

“guys!” you called for their attention. you were sitting on the bed next to rhea and damian, who were playing some cards game.

“you okay?” rhea asked and you nodded.

“i have something to ask you…”

“go on” rhea’s curios faced looked at you. rhea always liked the way you got shy around them, even if you had been with them for the past year. she kinda knew what you were going to ask, as you had been fangirling about the album with bianca belair for the past two weeks but still, she wanted to hear you asking them. deep down she knew she couldn’t say no to you.

damian, on the other hand, had no idea and he probably was going to have a heart attack at your request.

“so…i have a request…and for once i would like - uhm…i would like that you would consider my feelings” you struggled at first making rhea slightly chuckle.

“did we do something?” damian’s worried expression looked at you.

“no no no, you didn’t do anything to me…uhm…it came out wrong” you said “so, uhm…i don’t know if you know, probably not, but beyoncé’s new album drops in like ten minutes now and - uhm…since we’ve been listening to metal music all day long and i haven’t complained once - i would like to ask you if you could let me listen the album here? like, i know it’s not your type of music but i would really love to listen it here and not going like in the gym or somewhere else…since we have spotify and stuff…” you asked.

rhea was smirking and damian was very much confused.

“that’s it?” rhea asked and you nodded.

“why were you so scared to ask us that?” damian asked you this time.

“i wasn’t scared…”

“yes you were” he pointed out. he kinda felt bad that you had to ask them such a simple thing. yes, he knew beyonce wasn’t his music but he couldn’t see why it was a thing to ask.

“so?” rhea asked “you kinda looked scared”

“it’s not that. it’s just i know it’s not your type of music and you always act dramatic when finn or i ask if we can listen to something else so i thought it was going to be a problem for you”

“we always let you put your songs on” damian said.

“yes, and then you and rhea talk over it”

“oh” he said “i didn’t mean to do that i promise”

“okay…” you smiled “so you really are going to listen beyonce with me?”

“yeah, i mean, i don’t think 13 or 14 songs could hurt us” rhea joked and damian laughed too.

“actually…it’s 27 songs”

“what!?” the both screamed, making you chuckle.

“you still have five minutes to back up because the album is about to drop” you said as you were searching beyonce on spotify.

you observed the way rhea and damian looked at each others. definitely not ready for the outcome. but rhea couldn’t help but notice how excited you were about the album, and how you were happy with it. just a small thing that made you the happiest she ever saw you.

“here we go!” you almost screamed jumping back on the bed, sat between rhea and damian as you were about to press play when you saw the album popping up on her spotify home “are you ready?”

“wait…is it a country album?” damian asked and you nodded.

“you should have gave us a little more of infos about what kind of death we have to die…” rhea added a little dramatic, making you laugh.

“oh shut up! it’s gonna be great!” you said pressing play.

you were in tears after the first minute of ameriican requiem and now damian and rhea thought you were the dramatic one.

it got worse when beyoncé’s cover of jolene started as you always loved that song growing up.

“so she stealing songs?” damian murmured, earning a side look from rhea and punch in his stomach from you “okay i apologise”

the death of you was when daughter started, you knew beyonce was capable of anything but opera? the italian part? you were a crying mess, and even though neither of them were understanding the hype around beyonce, they couldn’t deny she was a great artist.

they were a little shocked when they saw you crying over her songs and they didn’t know what to do. if they should console you or letting you cry in peace.

“oh she’s doing it again!” you screamed when spaghetti started.

“doing what?” rhea whispered never getting a reply back.

you were crying and then you were not.

they felt like they were babysitting a baby.

damian was trying to stay awake just for you and rhea was kinda amused by the reactions you were having to her songs.

ya ya made you start jumping on the bed, tyrant made you feel like you were a porn star and ii hand ii heaven made you cry all over again.

one hour and a half later the album was over and you couldn’t believe the masterpiece beyonce just dropped.

“so?” you asked them, noticing their confused looks “did you like it?”

they knew they couldn’t say no because you looked too happy and they didn’t want to ruin your mood but they couldn’t say yes because - country? - definitely not their genre.

“i gave up after the jolene cover” damian joked, earning another side look from rhea “joking joking…it was interesting”

“rhea?” you turned to her and now she was speechless.

“uhm…yeah, it was an experience” she smiled at you, making you smile too.

you were happy with their reactions so you went all to bed.

two days later

another car ride. another show. another hotel room to be shared with damian and rhea.

you hit the shower first, tired of the trip you just had, you wanted to relax a bit before going to bed.

“your body laid out on these filthy floors

your bloodstains on my custom coutures

bathroom attendant let me right in

she was a big fan”

came from the bedroom. except it wasn’t spotify.

“they keep saying that i ain’t nothing like my father

but i’m the furthest thing from choir boys and altars

if you cross me i’m just like my father

i am colder than titanic water”

you heard damian singing.

he was singing beyonce. the opera song. they really thought you couldn’t hear them so they kept singing or more like, whispering, but you would catch a someone singing a beyonce song even in the loudest crowd.

rhea joining him too was something else.

you really couldn’t believe that but you pretended nothing happened because you knew you would have ruined their egos.

damian and rhea singing beyonce?

no one would believe that.

but you did.

and that was enough for you.

[kamotecue]

first time trip ✾ a. putellas

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

summary: in which a lovely couple and their only child visit the philippines for the first time. pwnt!reader, real madrid!reader

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you were sitting in the private jet, it would be a few hours till you’d land in the philippines. you looked to the back to see alexia sleeping with ana marie cuddled into her.

ana marie was the exact carbon copy of the two of you. she had your eyes and nose, but she had alexia’s hair and mouth shape. you softly smiled seeing the cute scene, alexia was the one who suggested to visit your home country for the first time.

after all, your daughter is reaching her sixth month. and her grandparents are so excited to see their little heiress, it was decided that ana marie would inherit your parents company.

you protested not wanting her life to be controlled, but your parents had agreed that she could live her life how she wants it. if she wanted to pursue a sport then she could, but she’d also have to run the company at the same time. quite hectic, is it not?

your thoughts were cut out as you heard someone calling you, it was your mother.

“anak, asan na kayo? [child, where are you now?]” your mother asked, as you hummed.

“nasa eroplano pa kami, ma. [we are still on the plane.” your mother hummed.

“tell us when you arrive, ha? susunduin kita. [i will pick you up.]” you softly mumbled underneath your breath.

“ma, it’s not needed po. i can drive there naman.” you talked with your mother for a few moments before she hung up as she had to go to work.

you opened your laptop preparing to do some work, and in that amount of time, the jet has landed. the pilot exited his cockpit, as you stood up packing things away.

“mahal?” you called out, wondering if alexia was awake. she was as she gently carried ana marie in her arms.

“vamos.” alexia said as you chuckled at her behavior, the bags were already placed into your car, as you opened the passenger seat for alexia who gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

the trip to the house wasn’t that long, there would usually would be traffic as you lived in metro manila but for some reason, there wasn’t any which you were thankful for. traffic in the philippines was such a hassle, you didn’t want your child waking up in between.

as you pulled up, you noticed the silhouette of your parents waiting at the porch. alexia was the first one to get out, greeting your parents along with a certain mini you.

while you had gotten the bags from the trunk, you were pulled into a hug as soon as you were in your parent’s view.

“anak, miss ka namin. kamusta naman sa barcelona? [child, we miss you. how is it at barcelona?]” your mother said, as you hummed.

“it’s really great, ma. parehas lang yung weather. [the weather is the same].” your mother hummed as she pulled you all inside.

“ma, i’ll drop the luggage sa room ko.” she gave you a quick nod, as you carried the luggage by its handle, and swung the duffel bag over your shoulder.

you slowly went up the stairs, careful not to trip or fall. it was just as you remembered, the posters filled on the wall.

the medals you won from football tournaments during your studies in the states. you’ve joined your middle school, high school and college varsity team. you also played for a youth team as well.

the different colored medals were on display, the trophies had a specific shelf and the academic awards were also there.

“it’s still the same, huh.” you said, before joining your parents in the living room. alexia was chatting with them, while ana had just woken up from her nap.

the whole time of the trip, you’ve gotten to introduce alexia to the filipino culture, the crusine more specifically dishes like sinigang also known as sour soup, adobo which is braised pork, and etc.

you also visited a few clubs like stallion laguna fc or kaya-iloilo, clubs that your national teammates play in. they were quite surprised when they saw alexia knowing she’s considered as la reina. but it was a notable experience, alexia got to see you coach for the first time. in her words, it was extremely attractive for her.

[supergirl000983]

Going Home

Travis Wheatley x Dutton!Reader

Warning: Smut, Language,

Note: No one ever writes for Travis, so I decided I was going to. Also, he's not a whore in this. lol

The Middle Child

The Youngest Daughter

The Favorite Child

Y/N Dutton…well technically she had been Y/N Wheatley for 8 years now hell she was the only one outta her siblings that seemed to be popping out more than one kid. Then again that was more because even after being together for 15+ years her and Travis still couldn’t keep their hands off each other. That’s actually how they ended up in their position now with her bent over his office desk and him fucking her from behind. “With the bruises you will have on your hips I’m gonna owe you flowers.” Travis said as he leaned down kissing his wife’s neck. “Fuck flowers buy me a fucking horse and fuck me for the rest of our lives.” She said turning her head to give him better access. “God, I fucking love you” he said as he brought his hand around to rub circles on her clit after a few moments they both reached their climaxes. After a few minutes he pulled out and kissed his wife’s shoulder and popped her on the ass. “I’m almost positive that you are pregnant with baby #5 after that.” “Well considering we’ve been fucking like rabbits in heat I would hope so.” Y/N said after they were both dressed. Y/N turned and hugged her husband knowing she had to tell him the real reason she came in here. “We need to go back to my dad’s ranch for a little bit I’m not sure how long. I just know he called and said he needed all of us there for a little bit.” She said looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Ok. We will leave in the morning I’ll have Rayden and Harlow help Stetson and Wren-Leigh pack. If you will go ahead and get our bags packed, I’ll get the SUV read and have Lucas follow behind us with the truck and horse trailer?” He said as he pulled her, so her head was on his chest. They stayed like that for a moment with him rubbing her back before there was a knock on the door then the voice of their oldest child Rayden who was 14 years old. “Mom Aunt Beth’s on the phone she said Uncle Jamie is in deep shit with the rest of the family.” Y/N walked over and opened the door to take the phone and reminding her child to watch his mouth. “Hello?” She asked “God, do you ever answer your fucking phone? I have called your mobile like 4-5 times.” Beth scolded her. Y/N felt bad as she looked over and saw her phone on Travis’s desk. “Sorry I was busy handling something.” “More like busy handling a certain horse trainer.” “What did you call for Bethy?” “Jamie is running for Governor of Montana, and I need my dear sweet sister’s help to take him down.” “We will be on the road first thing in the morning.” Y/N said before disconnecting her son’s phone then handing it back to him and sending him to go pack and help his younger siblings pack. “Holy shit. What the fuck is Jamie thinking. Like Governor? He wants to be governor now?” She said as she crawled into her husband’s lap on the couch of his office. “I don’t know darlin.” He said wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the forehead before standing up with her and carrying her to their bedroom. Sitting her on the bed he started to pack for both of them. “Make sure you pack your green hoodie.” Y/N said as she walked to the bathroom to pack up their bathroom bags. After she got done packing the bathroom bag, she helped Travis finish packing. Then they parted ways with a kiss so he could go start loading bags in the car and she could walk through the house to finish helping the kids pack.

She came to a stop in front of her youngest's room where Harlow was helping Wren pack. "Why don't I finish packing Wren's bag and you take your stuff down to your daddy ok?" Y/N said as she walked up to her daughters. "Ok Mama." Harlow her 10-year-old daughter said as she grabbed her 4-H duffle bag, and walking out the door. "Mama are going to see Grandpa?" Wren her 5-year-old asked looking up at her. "Yeah, baby we are. Mama and Aunt Bethy have to take care of something for grandpa." She said looking down at her blonde headed child that she swore she could have had completely by herself. "Does that mean I get to see Uncle Rippy?" the small child asked as she grabbed her stuffed moose who she took with her everywhere. "Yes, baby that means you get to see Uncle Rippy, and Uncle Kayce, Aunt Monica, and Tate." "TATE?!" Wren screeched as she stopped in front of her dad that had just walked into her room to get whatever was left.

"Wren-Liegh Wheatley inside voice." Travis scolded as he grabbed her 4-h duffle from Y/N. "Sorry daddy I'm just really excited to see Tate." The small child looked a Travis with the same puppy dog eyes her mom uses. Travis gave his youngest a kiss on the head before sending her to go help her siblings feed their horses. "How do feel about leaving late tonight instead? Get there a lot earlier if we do." Travis asked his wife as he set the bag down and brought his hands to rest on her hips. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll let Beth know we will be there earlier." She said leaning up to kiss her husband. As they kissed Travis's hands moved down to grab at her ass, but before it could get to heated, she pushed away a little keeping her hands on his chest. "We will definitely finish this later." She said as she fully pulled away and went to walk past him, but he was quicker, and his hand made contact with her ass. "Yes, we will." He said laughing following her out to the vehicle.

[lovelytsunoda]

proud mary // han lue

summary: now living a quiet life with their daughter, han and y/n reflect on how they got there, and all the good moments that are still yet to come.

pairing: han lue x wife! reader

warnings: this is a big one so listen up: mentions of post pregnancy mental illness, mentions of pregnancy and starting a a family, weddings, ignoring tokyo drift canon because I fucking can, (actually I ignored a lot of canon) han is about to activate a shit ton of daddy issues

I left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day and I never lost one minute of sleeping, I was worrying 'bout the way the things might've been.

big wheel keeps on turning, proud mary keeps on burning. and we’re rolling, rolling, rolling down the river

2009, tokyo, japan.

the garage was dark, lit only by the moonlight and the small lamps atop the workstations. han lue had closed up hours ago, and everyone was gone save for him and his lover.

“han, what are you doing?” y/n laughed, sitting at a table scattered with nail polish bottles and a shellac brisa light. “it looks like a smudge.”

“it’s a drifting car!” han laughed, staring through the large magnifying glass that was allowing him to see the design he was attempting to paint on his lovers thumbnail. “see, there’s the spoiler and those are the headlights!”

friday night manicures had become somewhat of a tradition. y/n hated painting her nails with her non dominant hand, but she also didn’t speak enough japanese to venture out and get her nails professionally done. when she and han started dating, he offered to do it for her, easing the aggravation that sometimes came with doing mail designs yourself.

“well, now that you’ve pointed it out.” she laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

they had been together coming up on two years. two long, wonderful years. she was a mechanic and he was drifter, it was almost meant to be. she stopped him from getting himself killed, and in return, he loved her unconditionally.

they were sympatico like that. she loved his sense of humour, his protectiveness. he loved her smarts and the excited way she talked, animatedly and with hand gestures.

“what do you say we get out of japan for a bit?”

han should have known this question was coming. y/n was a restless spirit, never meant to stay in one place for too long. in a way, han was as well. he could tell that his lover had been more restless than usual, either from missing home or needing a change of scenery.

“a friend of mine, his name is dominic torretto, he’s got this place down in the dominican republic.” han started slowly, unsure of how much he wanted to involved her in. y/n was his whole world, and what dom and mia would be running was far bigger than street racing in shibuya.“he called me the other day wondering if I would run a job with him. but it’s not entirely legal and I don’t blame you if you don’t want any part in it.”

“baby,” she frowned, placing her hand inside the blue light machine. “of course I’ll go with you. I never pass up a chance to go somewhere sunny, and you know that I’d go anywhere with you. what we’re running here with twinkie and sean isn’t exactly legal either, you know. I’m a big girl, seoul-oh. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I just want you to know what you’re getting into. you’re important to me, y/n.”

“I know.” she said softly, running her hand up his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, gently kissing his neck. “so when does our flight leave?”

“whenever you want it to. I haven’t even bought the tickets yet. are you ready for an adventure?”

“fuck yeah.” y/n smiled, pressing her lips to his. “but you have to paint my other nails first.”

han laughed, the kind of laugh that would always set loose the butterflies in y/n’s chest, the kind that reminded her why she fell in love with him in the first place.

“I don’t think I have it in me to paint another drifting car.”

“then what are you going to paint on my thumbnail?” y/n laughed back, looking down at her nails and realizing that her lover had actually done a very good job painting a drifting car manicure.

“I don’t know,” han shrugged. he would deny it if asked, but he actually loved painting y/n’s nails. he thought it brought them closer together, built up intimacy in their relationship.

they were moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“I’ll just do like a checkered flag or something.”

“but you did that on my index finger!”

laughing, y/n turned her head to kiss him. “come on, you big dork. the sooner we get my nails done, she sooner I can model that new lingerie set I bought last weekend.”

“sold!” han laughed, knocking over bottles of gel polish as he searched for the bright pink he had used to paint the car on his girlfriends other hand. “drifting car? f1 car? whatever my gorgeous gorgeous girl wants.”

“I love you, han lue.”

“love you more, pretty girl.”

2010, monte carlo, monaco.

it was set up to be another sleepless night without her lover by her side, and y/n was having none of that as she wandered the deck of the comfortable yacht, looking around at the decorations that the crew had spent the day putting up.

she was just praying that it wasn’t going to rain.

nothing was about to spoil her big day.

she scurried below deck, past a half open door through which she could hear roman pearce’s guttural snores. fingers curled around the door knob, she tried not to make any noise as she eased the door open, slipping into the cabin.

“you couldn’t sleep either?” she laughed, looking at the king size bed where her fiancé lay, phone in his hands as he texted his mother, who the crew was picking up in the harbour in the morning before the ceremony began.

“got a lot on my mind.” han shrugged. “fucking tej won’t shut up about the reception and the playlist and I’ve told him a million times that it’s not going to be some crazy rave kinda thing.” the man sat up, gesturing for his soon-to-be wife to come closer. "it's doing my head in. seriously, he wants to do a club mix of 'i would do anything for love'."

y/n snorted. han thought she looked like an angel in the low cabin light, a halo glowing around her head and shining off her white silk pajamas, the ones with the tiny shorts and 'bride' embroidered on the butt. "how the fuck do you turn the best meat loaf song in existence into a club rave song?"

"the fuck if i know." han shook his head, hands sliding up her thighs as she came to stand in between his legs. "jagi, sarang-hae."

honey, i love you.

"mhm." she hummed, a smile on her lips as she leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "i love it when you speak korean. it's so fucking sexy."

the last year had been stressful. the dominican job had been way more complex than y/n had expected, and it took a while for han's old crew to warm up to her. it took a while, but eventually she managed to crack dom toretto, and two weeks later, han got down on one knee and asked y/n to marry him.

hence why they were on a yacht off the coast of monaco, the entire thing decked out in fairly lights and tulle.

"if you think tej is bad, you try getting in between letty and those large plastic ribbons on the back of the deck chairs." y/n laughed. "who knew letty ortiz was so serious about weddings?"

she was practically sitting on his lap now, head resting comfortably on his shoulder as the boat rocked back and forth.

han seoul-oh was her home. her safe harbour. she always felt safe in his arms, at his side, even when they were plunging into almost certain danger like they had in the dominican.

"i brought you something." y/n hummed, reaching into the pockets of her shorts and withdrawing the small cardboard packet.

"fake nails?"

"help me put them on? for old time's sake." she passed him the glittery white french tips, no doubt chosen to match her dress for the ceremony tomorrow.

"i can't wait to spend my life with you. and believe me, there will be plenty more manicure mondays."

2014, monterrey, california.

"daddy, where's mommy?"

"i don't think she's feeling well, poppy." han lue frowned, looking over at his daughter, who was perched in her little kiddie chair at the kitchen table. "i'm going to go check on her, okay? stay right here."

how do you explain depression to an infant? poppy jae-i han had been one of the best things to have ever happened to han seoul-oh. but in the almost twenty-four months since their bundle of joy had been born, something had felt off about his wife.

everyone hears about the mental health complications that can come with childbirth, but no mother ever thinks it would be her.

every husband fears it, too.

"y/n, jagi?" han tried to keep his voice level as he eased open the bedroom door. the couple had bought a ranch house in monterrey when they learned they were expecting. it was one of the few things they used their ill-gotten gains as a part of dom's crew for. "poppy's asking for you."

it broke his heart to see his wife like this, hair messed and greasy, red splotches under her eyes from where she had been crying.

"am i a bad mother, seoul-oh?" she asked, voice small. she seemed so tiny and fragile underneath the layers of blankets on the queen bed. "she always seems to cry when i'm around, but never with you. poppy loves you more than she loves me."

"what?" it was all han could do to stop himself from crying as he sat on the bed, gently running his fingers through y/n's hair. "sweetheart, what's brought this on? poppy loves you. you're her mom. she needs you."

"mia makes it look so easy." y/n sniffled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. she's lost weight. not a noticeable amount, or even an unhealthy one, but enough that her husband knows. there are many things that you can hide from the man you share your bed with, but han knows. he knows she's not doing well. "and i'm fucking shit at it, han."

"look at me, pretty girl." han encouraged, reaching for her hands. "you are such a good mother. i know you're struggling right now, and i know you're hurting but you need to know that poppy loves you so much. she was asking about you over breakfast, you know."

"i don't know who i am any more. i've lost my sense of self."

han frowned, brushing a few strands of greasy hair away from her forehead before leaning down and gently kissing her hairline.

"listen, i was talking to brian last night-"

"of course you were fucking talking to brian."

"-and he thinks you should talk to mia. they're passing through town today on their way back from dom and letty's, brian and i are going to take the kids out to the zoo or whatever, and you and mia should do something." he suggested, running his hand comfortingly up and down his lover's back. "go to the mall, get a coffee. i think she could really help you. she's been through this before."

y/n inhaled shakily, pulling away from han. "what if something happens to poppy and i'm not there?"

"y/n, everything is going to be okay. i promise. brian will be there, the kids will be in great hands. go do something with mia, darling. find yourself again, yeah?"

"okay." y/n nodded, still clutching his hand like it was her lifeline. "i can do that."

"mommy?" a small voice called. poppy had managed to get herself all the way from the kitchen to the master bedroom, where han had left the door ajar just in case poppy needed them. "are you okay?"

"oh, sweetheart, come here." y/n said, tears beginning to fall.

because how could she ever think that her little bundle of joy didn't love her as much as she did? poppy waddled over to the bed, and han hefted the toddler onto the mattress so that y/n could pull her close.

"you know that mummy loves you, right?"

"yes. i love you too, mommy."

"see." han smiled. "you're going to be okay. we're going to get through this."

2017, monterrey, california.

"i genuinely can't comprehend that roman pearce is getting married."

the family of three was walking down the nail care aisle at walmart, a welcome addition to their weekly shopping trip as y/n scanned the packages on the rack for a set of acrylic nails.

han laughed, one hand around his wife's waist and his chin on her shoulder as he leaned against the shopping cart. "it's not going to last. they may be getting married on saturday but i bet that by christmas roman is going to call and tell us she asked for a divorce."

"don't be so cynical." y/n laughed, kissing her husband softly before holding up a small white box. "do these go with my dress?"

"they'll go with anything, babe." han said, moving to whisper in her ear “they'd look even better wrapped around my c-"

"i want nails like mom's!" poppy han's shout cut him off, the little girl looking at the array of disney princess nails on the lower shelves.

laughing, han knelt down next his daughter, one hand on her shoulder. "which one do you want, princess? do you want frozen, tinker bell? mulan?"

"i want the ariel ones." poppy smiled, reaching for the pack of little mermaid nails. han helped her get them off the hook before lifting her up, carrying the six year old securely against his chest.

"seoul-oh, she's like six, you're spoiling her by carrying her all the time." y/n laughed, dropping both packs of nails in the cart.

"what, she's not heavy, sweetheart." han grins. "besides, i have to stay in shape somehow."

y/n rolls her eyes. "sweetie, it's bold of you to assume that you were ever in shape. but i loved you anyways, didn't i?"

back at home, they settled in the living room, near the large bay window. y/n watched contentedly from the kitchen as han sat at the coffee table across from poppy, delicately brushing nail glue across his daughter's tiny nails, dropping the glittery little mermaid nails on top.

it had taken a while to get to this peaceful, quiet part of their life, but y/n han was so glad that they had made it. that she had seoul-oh and that she had little poppy.

"be careful with your nails, they might come off. now, go get your homework done before we make the pizza, okay?"

poppy scurried off down the hall to her room, and y/n padded across the shag carpet, looping her arms around her husbands neck as she gave him a kiss.

"i'm so lucky, you know that. i'm happy and healthy again, and i have you and poppy. that's everything i could ever ask for." she said softly, resting her head against han's chest as the man tilted his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

of course they both missed the good old days. the days of adrenaline and adventure. but brian and mia had left, and then y/n and han, and soon after was letty and dom. they were moving on with their lives, a chapter of glitz and glamour coming to a close.

"i want another one."

y/n froze, pulling back from her husband. "what?"

"i want another baby. and i know what we went through last time, and i fully understand if you're not willing to take that chance again, but god, y/n, i want a big family with you." han explained, holding his wife's hands. "poppy is growing up. soon she's going to be too cool for dear old dad. and then there will be boys-"

"or she'll be like you," y/n cuts him off with a laugh. "in which case there will be lots and lots of girls."

"god help us all. my little girl is going to break a lot of hearts one day."

"and you want another one?"

"honestly? yeah, i do."

"then i guess we'd better start trying. multiplication isn't that hard, so poppy's gonna be looking for us within the next hour." y/n hummed, kissing her lover softly.

han smiled against her lips, hands slipping into her jeans pockets to cop a feel of his wife's ass. "i only need half that."

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @mignonricciardo @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @monzabee @scuderiamh @daydreamingleclerc @diorleclerc @oconso @cl16version

[captain-joongz]

here's first of the bigger requests that came through during the hard hours, my dear ✨ anonie, i hope you enjoy your piece! <3

LOSE TO WIN

warnings: bdsm dynamics, mistress kink, spanking, humiliation and praise, strap on usage, strap on deep-throating, coming untouched, anal fingering, pegging, rough handling, rough sex, orgasm denial, face slapping, riding

word count: 3.9k

Minho wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to get into trouble. He was smart. Sly. Always had a comeback, always knew how to get himself out of hot water. But he was also impulsive, hot-blooded and stubborn. He knew that about himself, maybe better than anyone else.

And he was incredibly competitive. So maybe that's why his plan was such a bad idea.

I mean, of course his friends would try to persuade him to not go to a casino, unless they were shitty no one would encourage their friend to go gamble, but Minho wouldn't listen - of course he wouldn't.

He didn't begin to understand why it was such a bad idea for him specifically to go until he was sitting at the poker table with a terrible hand of cards and no way to lie himself out of it.

People tend to do stupid things when they get their first big paycheck - buy a car they don't need, spend it on clothes or stupid investments. Going to a casino might be the stupidest though, not that the man would admit that, even as his beginner's luck shifted and the tide turned.

Winning a nice sum in the first few rounds, he felt confident - he should stay, play more - he could double it, triple it, he could go home with three paychecks instead of one. He'd show his friends, he'd be the one laughing at them.

But then he started to lose. And it was not pretty.

He wasn't sure how it worked in casinos, but when he was discreetly offered more chips to have a chance to win his money back, he didn't think to stop and ask where they came from or what the consequences were - he just needed a chance to win and then he'd leave. That was all, just one lucky hand and then this nightmare would be over.

When the last game ended, Minho was in a daze - it took him several long seconds to realise that he'd lost once more, and this time he was in deep shit. Not only his own money was gone, but now he owed someone.

He didn't notice you at all, eyeing him the whole evening and having a private laugh about how cutely clueless he was. It was so obviously his first time gambling, your trained eye could see it the second he stepped in the room. Oh, you'd just eat him up.

And now, watching the man sit there all miserable, head in hands as he came to terms with his situation, it was your prime opportunity to strike.

"First time?"

Minho looked up as soon as he heard the melodious voice, coming face to face with you dressed in a black expensive dress, hair and face all made up. At first glance he could tell you were someone important. And very, very rich.

"Um, y-yeah, sorry if I'm blocking the table." He moved as in to get up and leave, but you stopped him quickly and instead offered him a cigarette. Minho threw a nervous glance at the security guys, but they didn't seem bothered by anything you were doing, so he accepted. Of course, what he didn't know was that as the owner's daughter you had free range to do pretty much anything, and they knew better than to interfere when you were hunting.

"I can pay it for you," you offered easily, playing with the packet in your hands while Minho choked his sorrows with nicotine. He startled and you had to suppress a satisfied smirk. This would be so much fun, you couldn't wait to ruin him.

"N-no, that's fine. I'm fine." So he was still deep in denial, huh. You leaned closer and plucked the cigarette out of his hands, taking a drag yourself. You saw his eyes glued to your lips, shock and interest mixing in his brown irises.

"Look, boy, I'm going to be honest with you," you started, spinning your soft web, "you're fucked, spectacularly so might I add. If you try to leave now, you'll end up in some really mean people's hands. I can pay your debt and trust me, I'm much nicer when it comes to paying back." Minho looked like he didn't trust your words one bit, but that's what's nice about desperation - it makes you do things even if you know you shouldn't.

It was all reflected right there in his eyes. You knew you had him, he only had to stop running away from it.

"What would you want in return?" he asked hesitantly and you grinned. What a smart boy, knowing you weren't after money.

"One night, you listen to my every word," you said confidently, "be a good little toy for me."

You saw him shudder before he attempted to school his features into a look of carefully constructed disgust, but you knew. You really hit jackpot with this one, no pun intended.

He sat there in silence for a little while and you let him. He had to come to terms with reality and realise you were offering him the only way out, you would not interfere with that - he had to do that all on his own.

Minho knew he was stupid and got himself into trouble. For the first time in a really long time he couldn't come up with a way to get out of this - he desperately wracked his brain for any solutions while you sat next to him and inspected your nails like a shark waiting for the fish to crawl up all the way in his mouth.

But really, how bad could it really be? He'd just fuck you and he'd be okay, it was definitely the better option than getting beaten up by loansharks. It would be easy, right? He was pretty good in bed, so he had the confidence he could pleasure you and then you'd let him go and everything would be okay. Easy peasy.

He nodded. You grinned. Bad premonition filled his stomach.

Minho cried out when another hit landed on his exposed thighs, your hand then gently caressing the reddening sensitive skin there. There were tears brimming in his eyes, the burn of the impact turning him needy and whiney.

You didn't waste any time after you dragged him off into a hotel room, immediately ordering him to pull his trousers down and bend over the edge of the bed. You yourself dragged a chair over and sat down, face level with his perky underwear clad ass. He needed a punishment, that's what you said, and he was maybe starting to agree.

"Will this teach you not to be such a dumb boy? Maybe I can fuck some common sense into that pretty head of yours, huh?" You teased and taunted, delivering sharp words after each spank until Minho's head was swimming and he couldn't see through tears, biting his lips to stop all the pitiful whimpers from spilling out of his mouth.

But even though he didn't know what to think of this, his body has made up its mind already - he could feel his cock hanging between his legs, so hard it hurt, but ignored and useless. He attempted to sneakily touch himself a few minutes ago, only to get another hard hit and the sharp words "hands where I can see them, boy!", so now he didn't try anymore.

Everything was kind of fuzzy and he couldn't even tell up from down, but fuck, he didn't want to stop, and that scared him. Right now he'd probably let you do about anything to him.

"What do you think, have you learnt your lesson?" Your condescending words broke him out of his haze, but he could only pitifully whine, realising just how much his knees were shaking, close to buckling under his weight. You'd stopped your punishment, but he still felt the phantom sting of your previous smacks.

"Well alright then. Take off the rest of your clothes and sit down on the bed." Embarrassingly enough, Minho wanted to scramble to follow your order, but his limbs just wouldn't cooperate, so he sluggishly turned and fought his shirt off while you sat in your chair silently and watched.

You waited until he was done and sitting down before you came to him, standing in front of him and taking in the state of him. And what a vision he made with his red eyes, tear tracks over his cheeks and lips bitten raw, all crimson and swollen. The once proud and cocky expression he wore during the game now changed into neediness and desperation. And that's what you liked to see.

His lips in particular caught your attention, and you found yourself tracing them with your thumb, mesmerised.

"Fuck, I kinda really want to fuck your throat..." You only mused that out loud, muttering it into the charged air between you, but the absolutely wrecked needy sound that escaped Minho's mouth surprised you both, judging by the blush suddenly spreading down his neck.

"Oh? You like that? Well, who am I to ruin your fun.."

You walked over to one of the huge built in closets, pulling a big box out and gingerly going through its contents. Minho saw glimpses of various sex toys and other kink related objects, and he decided he really didn't want to know why you had that here. Some things were better left unquestioned. And he wasn't even sure whether you'd like being questioned. He desperately didn't want to displease you.

When you found what you were looking for, you pulled it out with an exclamation of victory and finally let Minho see what he apparently asked for - a harness and a strap on dildo - huge, veiny and deep purple. He shuddered, and though he'd like to lie to himself and say it was apprehension, the way his dick jumped upon seeing it spoke a different story.

You had to take your dress off to put it on, and the vision of you in only your black lacy underwear, black heels and the strap on harness did something to Minho's brain. You just simply gestured to the ground by your feet, face curled into a beastly grin.

"Kneel."

And as simple as that, he was on the ground in front of you so fast he might have had carpet burns. You laughed at him, like he was pathetic. He felt pathetic, with his mouth already watering and filling with drool, jaw clenched because otherwise he'd already have it wide open, and he squirmed under your domineering eyes.

You grabbed him by his chin, gently, turning his face up and guiding his lips towards the tip of your dildo. "If you need to stop, tap my leg twice like this." You demonstrated and he nodded, hesitantly letting his lips kiss the cold silicone.

Minho had tried it with boys before, and he wasn't against it, but he'd never sucked a cock in his life, and he had no idea what to do, so he started slow. You didn't seem to mind, eyes keenly watching him as he licked the toy and kissed along it softly, familiarising himself with the veins and ridges. Your hand stayed on his face, holding him in place and gently guiding him.

But of course your patience would run out at some point, and soon your hand pulled him onto the dick, sliding it between his lips and teasingly always thrusting a little deeper, until it was kissing his throat and making him gag. This repeated a few times - you'd slide in, he'd gag and you'd pull out to give him a little break, until you took matters into your own hands - quite literally.

Grabbing his head, you took control of his movements, guiding him in a smooth motion.

"Don't panic, relax your throat," your words rang out and Minho fought to follow your instructions, eyes full of overwhelmed tears, "breathe through your nose. Deep breaths. There you go."

You felt his his throat relax, sliding in a little further - and Minho choked. But this time it was a good sound, all nicely wrapped up in a tiny moan, and you groaned in answer, thrusting a little harder the next time.

His face screwed into one of pleasure and you saw his thighs clench, mouth suddenly hungrily chasing after you every time you pulled out. You pumped your hips rhythmically, growing breathless as you watched him moan and choke on it, with every thrust taking a little more until his face was pressed into the leather of harness, gurgly moans slipping out.

It was enough to drive a saint mad.

And Minho loved it - you could see it in the way his red cock jumped and twitched, throbbing in his lap like it was about to burst without a single touch. You felt your own pussy, so wet and empty, squeezing and clenching around nothing while you guided Minho's pretty face to choke on your cock.

"Fuck, wish I could feel your throat, bet it's so fucking good," you groaned out breathlessly, picking up pace and roughly slamming in, Minho's eyes rolling back into his skull as he took it, fingers helplessly digging into the meat of your thighs.

You should have seen the warning signs, but truly you didn't think he'd be capable of something like that - when his moans doubled in frequence, growing higher, more desperate, more whimpery, his hips jumping abortedly as his cock throbbed and twitched with rising intensity, you thought nothing of it, enjoying the view of his face covered in tears and drool, cock slipping in and out of his mouth.

You thought nothing of it until suddenly Minho was cumming with a high-pitched raspy moan, cock spurting out thick streaks of jizz all over his stomach and thighs. You pulled out in shock, eyes appreciatively flying over the scene, over his fucked out ruined face and body covered in white as he panted with laboured breaths.

"Mistress..." he rasped out, voice all gone and scratchy, and your pussy throbbed so hard you were worried you might cum too. Instead you steeled yourself and smirked again.

"What a naughty boy you are, did I say you could do that?" Minho didn't seem to have much brain power to come up with an answer and he only whined, tired body winding down. "Get on the bed."

He still faithfully obeyed your commands, dragging himself to the king sized bed and dropping down like he was dead. Crawling in behind him, you signalled for him to turn over on his stomach and he did.

His ass and thighs were still a little red from earlier, and when you touched the skin, he jolted a little, whimpers falling into a pillow.

"Well, Mistress has to punish you now, again" you tsked at him, hand reaching for a bottle of lube and condoms standing on the nightstand. Pulling one over your fingers and warming some of the smooth liquid, you carefully reached down between his cheeks, running softly over the puckered rim and pushing on it. You would have been worried about his reaction, had it not been for the immediate groan tumbling out of his lips as his hips jerked into your fingers, back arching and begging for more.

"What a naughty boy you are indeed," you whispered, giggling in amazement. You truly found a gem tonight.

His hole had a little resistance to it, but with careful smooth movements you quickly slipped in, stretching him out on two fingers. You chose a slow sensual pace, winding him up again, pouring some fire back into his veins. You heard his breathy little sighs, hips moving in a rhythm with your fingers, rolling in little circles and slowly working them in deeper and deeper.

Once they slipped all in and you started up a faster pace, the sighs turned into pleased little moans, those that spoke of a complete satisfaction of having been filled up and fucked open, and you salivated at the prospect of fucking him soon. And when you managed to curl your fingers just right, hitting his prostate and punching out a loud moan out of him, your head almost spun with lust.

Minho took three of your fingers like a champ, rocking back onto them and trying to subtly grind his already hard again cock into the sheets - and you let him, even though he probably thought you didn't know. Soon he wouldn't have such a luxury anyway, so what's a few cheeky rubs now.

"Such a slut, I really had no idea who I stumbled upon, huh?" you teased some more, fucking your fingers in roughly and massaging his walls in a way you knew drove him crazy. His hips never stilled for a moment, chasing his pleasure mindlessly as he drooled into the white bedding.

"Don't worry baby, Mistress will fuck you good," you murmured, pulling out and ignoring his needy panicked whines at losing the stimulation.

Without losing a second you immediately reached over to get another condom, getting your cock all nice and wet and ready. Giving his ass cheek one last smack, you angled your hips and pushed in mercilessly.

The cock went in easy, his hole all nice stretched and covered in lube, and the reaction from Minho was instantaneous. You felt him tense underneath you, a little pained whimper falling out of his lips just as he pushed back hungrily and pulling you deeper inside.

You understood what he wanted perfectly, and wasted no second giving it to him just right. Pulling back, you thrusted back in forcefully, punching out a pained moan out of the man.

You set a ruthless pace, pounding into him and angling your cock just right to smack right into his prostate on every stroke. Minho cried and screamed underneath you, keeping his hips still and presenting for you like a bitch in heat, hungrily taking all the aching pleasure.

"H-hurts...!" he moaned into the pillow even as his hips shook with how much he strained them to be able to take more.

"Hurts? Does it baby?" you entertained him, smirking behind him.

"So- so goo-" he got choked up on a groan, drool shining on his chin, "it's so good! More!"

"Demanding, aren't you baby?" you mused out loud, slowing down so you could pound into him harder, "but you have to be a good boy and not cum until I tell you to."

You felt how his body immediately tensed under yours with the overflow of pleasure, and he sagged into the bed, only letting out content whimpers as you continued the tempo.

You yourself were growing breathless, the fucking taking a toll on you as well - you were better at controlling yourself, but the way the harness pressed into your clit with every movement, sliding with all the slick you produced, your own arousal was slowly growing to crescendo.

Minho shook under you, his whole body taut and hands helplessly grabbing onto anything he could reach.

"Please! I wanna cum! Please!" his voice was all raspy with desperation, hips jumping back into yours. You tsked at him loudly between quiet moans, one hand going to spank him again.

You knew it wasn't fair, especially not when he jerked underneath you with a debauched groan, desperation growing tenfold in him.

"Please! Mistress!" for a few more thrusts those were the only words that slipped out of him, an endless repeat of cries and pleading.

"Can you be a good boy? Can you listen?" you taunted again, sweat rolling down your body, hands slipping on his skin with the perspiration. You were so close, you needed to cum so bad.

"Yes! Yes!" he chanted, and he really took it well. You fucked forward a few more times, aiming to give more pressure on his prostate - and when Minho flailed under you with tortured groans, but still didn't cum, you decided to take mercy on him.

Movements tinged with your own desperation, you quickly pulled out and tore yourself out of the harness, stepping out of your panties as well in the process.

Minho was desperately whining on the bed, hips still in the air and begging for more, but you grabbed him and manhandled him onto his back, in rush putting a condom on for him before you mounted him and sunk on his cock, a pleased sigh leaving your lips while Minho cried with overstimulation and denied pleasure.

You felt how his entire body trembled, freezing every time you moved your hips, eyes wide and wet with tears.

Your lust catching up to you, you couldn't help yourself and ride him with reckless abandon, just chasing your pleasure and using him like your own fuck toy while he thrashed on the bed, hips chasing after your wet heat and inaudible nonsense spilling out of his red lips.

"Go on baby," you gritted out between breathless sighs and groans, "take what you need." You were so close you could almost taste your orgasm on your tongue.

But instead of cumming immeadiately as you expected him to do, Minho only cried harder underneath you, incomprehensible pleading filling the room.

"Hit- hit me! Please Mistress, hit me!"

To say you were shocked would be an understatement, but you couldn't hide how your cunt clenched on his cock at his demands, and you reached behind to caress the back of his thighs again, only to be stopped once more.

Minho grabbed your hand and without any preamble pulled it to his face, big begging eyes watching you bounce on his cock. The groan that spilled out of your mouth was absolutely beastly and you clenched on his cock so hard you both almost came.

But who were you to deny him?

Caressing his cheek briefly, you pulled back and delivered a sharp slap, watching his face screw up with pleasure, cock throbbing almost violently, so close to bursting.

It only took one more before Minho was arching under you, crying out as his cock twitched and throbbed inside you, spilling into the condom.

Watching his face bleed into ecstasy and feeling his orgasm so viscerally, hearing his blissed out cries, you felt yourself clench and then you were cumming on his cock as well, riding out your orgasm on his cock as the pleasure consumed you from inside.

Your bodies jerked together for a few more moments, lust riddled brains savouring every second of the liquid ecstasy flowing through your veins, before you slid down to the bed to his side, attempting to catch your breath.

The last thing Minho remembered were your soft whispers of praises you pressed into his naked skin with gentle kisses.

You smiled and let him, seeing no reason in waking him up. After all, he didn't have to hear you settle everything with the casino, letting them know that there was no debt to settle cause the money he lost was yours all along. He didn't need to know the truth.

When Minho limped home the next day, covered in bruises, back hurting like crazy but muscles slack in a way that only good sex could facilitate, he couldn't even look into his friends' eyes with shame.

Of course they were worried for him - he looked terrible and they could see the little winces he did with every fast movement. He looked like he'd gotten beaten up after losing all his money.

And Minho would let them believe that, until the end of his life. They didn't need to know the truth.

divider by @cafekitsune

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 5

'Twas Past One O'Clock

Summary: You find a ghost in your house. Words: 2.2k

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

T’was past one o’clock and you were ready for some alone time. By the time you got back to the house Simon and Joey would be off to the football and you could just chill out after delivering 250 iced biscuits for a wedding that had taken you all your sanity to get done in time. You knew the two of them would have left the house spotless for you. Simon insisted when he was home he handled the majority of the cleaning and Joey being the fantastic kid that he was always wanted to help.

You desperately needed to lie down. The morning had taken it out of you and you felt run down and a little nauseous from all the running around.

Maybe after you could finish off the album you had been working on for Joey’s birthday. It was all Johnny, the story of who he was and your relationship with him. The more time went on the less scared you got about telling your son about his dad. You couldn’t help but send a quick thought up to wherever Johnny was, a sheepish apology for waiting so long with a promise that you and Simon would make sure his son knew him.

It came as a surprise seeing Joey sitting on the front step rather than at the game. You were out of the car and rushing over when you saw the look on his face, like he had seen a ghost. 

“Are you ok? Are you hurt? Where’s dad?”

You were on your knees checking him over, frowning when you saw he had turned off his hearing aid and rapidly signing your questions instead. He only ever turned it off when he was upset and had very little hearing without it which always worried you. It was valid of him to want quiet when he was having big emotions and you never wanted to force him to keep it on if he didn’t want it, but as a mother you also wanted him to always be as safe as he possibly could be and that meant being able to listen for any danger.

“They were fighting. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

“Who was fighting?”

“Dad.”

“Who was dad fighting with?”

“Dad.”

“What do you mean? Is dad ok?”

You felt your heart squeeze tight. It had been years since Simon had had a bad episode. He still had mild ones now and then, still had nightmares, but he hadn’t hurt himself or anyone else in such a long time. He worked as a trainer now, not spending much time away from home. That had happened 4 years ago when he was offered a promotion up to Captain and chose to instead come out of active duty. Eventually he had told you that it didn’t feel right being anything but a Lieutenant. He never had to say out loud that it was to do with Johnny, but you knew that’s what it came down to. If Johnny couldn’t call him Captain, then he’d stay as LT.

“Which dad? Because they’re both in there. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You searched Joey’s face. He was angry, sad, frustrated. It was in his expression and the way he signed. You tried to understand what he was telling you with your heart pounding and your mouth feeling painfully dry. You didn’t know what to do. Leaving Joey on the step was against your instincts, but now you were terrified for Simon. What on earth was going on? Was he ok?

You jumped when you heard a car door slam and turned to see a very serious looking John Price coming towards you.

“John? What’s going on?”

He looked from you to Joey to the house. 

“Is he here?”

You wanted to ask who he was talking about but Joey beat you to it. The kid was a pro at lip reading.

“He got here when we were about to leave. Punched dad, broke his glasses. I got told to wait outside for mum.”

You didn’t understand what was going on. Who punched Simon? It at least had to be someone he knew, more accurately someone he trusted. He would never have sent Joey to sit outside if not. If someone dangerous was in the house, Simon would have sent Joey straight to the pub down the street that Eyitayo ran. She was a veteran who had worked with Simon before and he trusted her to get you and Joey safe in the event of someone tracking him down. 

The fact that Joey was sat right here meant it wasn’t someone that was a danger to him. But also someone that would punch Simon. And someone that John knew was here. 

“I was going to tell you.”

You knew the look John was giving you. Guilt. It was a look you had become accustomed to from him, a look you got anytime the topic of your deceased husband came up. 

“Going to tell me what John? Who is inside my house?”

You knew. Who else could it be? You looked at John, waiting for him to say something, say anything that meant there was not a ghost in your house. Instead he looked shamed and in pain, knowing as well as you did by this point that your life was about to fall apart again. 

Perhaps a better mother would not have walked into the house and left her son sitting there. You were not better. You loved your son more than anything, but in that moment you felt dissociated from everything and everyone, the only sound the rush of blood pumping around your body which floated forward without your conscious effort. 

You saw Simon first. His glasses were broken, one lens a spiderweb of cracks and the frame warped but still valiantly clinging to him. There was dried blood at his nose, a streak from where he must have wiped it away. The beginnings of a black eye. But it was his eyes. You had loved this man for most of your adult life and you had never seen him look so broken. Not when he came home from a bad deployment needing you to take control. Not when the anniversary of Johnny’s death came and went with each passing year. Not when Joey screamed at him once that he didn’t need to listen to him because he wasn’t even his real dad (God he was so like Johnny with how his temper flared and he picked the most hurtful thing to say that he could before immediately regretting it).

The other man was sat on the sofa, head in hands. His hair was long. He looked older than he should be you thought. There was such a great tension in him that your disconnected body gave a sudden thrum between your legs, remembering what this man turned into when he came home from a bad deployment, angry and violent with nothing to turn it into but aggressive passion. But it was a wasted effort of your biology as your brain processed who was sitting in your living room and your stomach gave an almighty lurch, sending you with a stumble to the small toilet off the side of the living room to empty it.

There was swearing coming from the men. A rough hand brushed your hair away from your face while another rubbed your back. 

“Cap told me tae stay put but ye know me. Should’ve warned ye rather than scaring ye like this. I just… I couldnae wait bonnie. I just wanted tae see ye.”

He sounded like himself but not. His accent was a bit twisted now, something slightly wrong about the tone, something more Slavic now. But my God it was him. Older, harder, a little worse for wear, but it was your Johnny. Your John MacTavish. There was a hand on his face, fingers shakily tracing the changes. It took you a moment to realise it was your hand. He leaned into it, his eyes intense on yours. It had been a decade and this man still burned for you the way he had before he died. 

How you wished that he didn’t feel so strange despite it all. But then, who wouldn’t become a stranger after a decade apart?

“You… you died…”

“I’m so sorry. It wisnae supposed tae be so long. A few months, just tae make the world a safe place for our family.”

You couldn’t think properly. You felt so ill and so tired and it was overwhelming. You looked through the open doorway and tried to find Simon but even if he was there you weren’t sure you could get your vision to focus enough to tell. Your eyes were swimming you realised, tears blurring everything. 

“Did he know?”

“Aye.”

Your heart had barely broken before Johnny was making a choked sort of noise and pressing his forehead to yours.

“Fuck. He didnae know. Simon never knew. I shouldnae have said that, I just… you’re married to him.”

You didn’t think you would have survived if Simon knew this whole time. It was too severe a wound to ever hope for recovery. It was so like your Johnny, that knee jerk reaction when he was hurt that he immediately regretted. You were so unused to it now. Simon wasn’t like that, he was careful with what he said even when he was angry or hurt. Honestly you had wished sometimes he was a little more like Johnny because it made it hard to even tell that he was angry or hurt when he so rarely let it show. 

“You died. You died and I wanted to die with you.”

“I’m here now. It’s going tae be ok bonnie, I’m right here. We can move wherever ye want, ye liked it up North eh? Start again.”

It was like your consciousness all slammed back into your body at once. The bone deep exhaustion was tempered only by the sudden alarm at his words. 

“I- no, I… Johnny, I have a family.”

Oh, you had not meant for those to be the words you gave him. You had not meant for it to cause him to look like he had been shot. Although you supposed Simon must already know what that actually looked like. You wanted to throw up again. His hand on your shoulder gripped tighter, almost painful. When you flinched his face fell and he let go, backing up out of your space with his hand going to tug on his own hair. 

“I ken… I couldnae expect… if it was anyone else I’d be happy for ye. Naw him bonnie. It cannae be him.”

“But it is.”

You tried to wordlessly plead with your first husband, to have him understand. You could no sooner stop being entirely in love with Simon Riley than you could stop your own heart beating. Your solid and steadfast Simon who was outside comforting your son, who left you with the first love of your life because of course he would. He had been firm with you long ago in his belief that you would never leave one another, not with how tangled up you were. You had split up once and that had ended within 12 hours with you being fucked in the neighbours shed at a party for the cup final. How could you ever live without him?

It was as incomprehensible an idea as living without Johnny had been once upon a time. 

“Is everything ok?”

You saw the hurt in Johnny when you relaxed at hearing Simon coming back in. 

“Joey?”

“Gaz came to pick him up. He’s… as ok as he can be.”

He eyed Johnny warily as he pushed into the bathroom to gently help you up. You were so tired and you let your weight sag against him. 

“She needs to get cleaned up and rest a bit.”

“Aye I’m naw fucking blind Si.”

“Could’ve fooled me MacTavish given that you had her on the floor.”

“Fuck all the way off Riley!”

He was alive. He was alive and here and him and his best friend were at each other's throats. It was your fault wasn’t it? If you hadn’t fallen in love with Simon this miracle could have been met with only happiness. God you wanted to sleep. You wanted to be clean and to brush your teeth and sleep. You wanted to wake up and be able to hold Johnny, to prove to yourself he was here and real and alive. 

“P-please…” you choked out, not entirely sure what you were asking for. 

There was silence for a moment and you could only stare at the floor, swaying a little with how woozy you felt.

“...ye have that hippie tea?”

“Top right cupboard, I’ll…”

“Aye. Don’t you worry bonnie, I’ll have it hot and ready for ye.”

He ran a hand over your head, bringing it to your cheek and then your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. 

“I love you. So much” he said, voice rough with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked away. 

You barely remembered the shower. All you knew was that you were tucked into bed with your favourite tea and your exhaustion took you under fast enough that you couldn’t follow the conversation happening outside of your bedroom.