#but these coffee sipping faces were just too funny to me

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Not Ready Part 4/12

Part 5 and Part 6 are out on my Patreon!

Readers sister dies in a tragic car accident, leaving reader and her boyfriend Ruben in the urgent custody of her niece and nephew. Readers' life is suddenly flipped upside-down since having children hadn't been the plan for her and Ruben's life together. At least not now, when his football career was reaching great new heights.

Enjoy! 💞

"So you're the children's caregiver now?"

"No, Laleh. I'm still just their aunt." What a waste of your lunch break, you thought. Laleh was grilling you with questions all through your walk in the park. You should have stayed at the office, perhaps snuck up to the roof top and joined the chainsmokers on their lunch break. Lord knows you could use a cigarette right about now.

"But you're the only one caring for them, no?"

"Well, my parents sent me money for the week while the kids are staying with me. But, yes, their dad has gone a bit M.I.A for the moment. I suppose Ruben and I are the only ones caring for the children."

And how does he feel about that?"

"What do you mean?" You stopped before a park bench, behind it a large oak tree where a group of senior citizens were practicing Tai chi.

"Well you've involuntarily made Ruben a father figure now." Laleh said.

"What? No I haven't. The children call him uncle Ruben but that's because my sister and I joked about it once. It kinda stuck, but Ruben knows he is not responsible for the children in any way."

"But you are."

"Yes. I am. So what?"

"I dunno Y/N. It just feels like it can get a bit messy if you and Ruben aren't on the same page."

"Well, we are. The children are leaving tomorrow. Both my parents are coming to London to help clean out the rest of Liza's things. They're taking Emmy and Vale with them to Bournemouth after that, while their father stays back and continues to try and sell the house."

"It's really that bad huh?" Laleh picked up your walk, taking a sip of her coffee. "Does he want all traces of your sister gone?"

You nodded. "But I think it's for the best. There is no need for him and the children to be reminded of her everyday. It would be too painful. "

"And how about you, how are you holding up?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you—"

"Auntie Y/N!"

"Emmy, Vale, what are you two doing here?"

Fallen leaves rustled on the ground as the children came sprinting your way.

"Look what Uncle Ruben got us." Said Vale, waving his melting popsicle. Emmy was nibbling on hers, almost chewing on the stick.

"Ice cream?" You questioned. "In the middle of the day."

"Uncle Ruben said we could have as many as we like."

"Did he now?" You raised your head, watching Ruben as he walked towards you with a football at his feet. You crossed your arms, a smile on your face as he approached. He was supposed to babysit the kids while you were at work, not give them cavities.

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "Hey Laleh." He greeted her while pressing a kiss to your cheek. "How are you?"

"Fine. I see you guys have a full house now."

"More or less." He sighed. A sigh that caused a jab in your stomach.

"Baby, you didn't have to take the kids out to the park. You could have just watched them while you were resting." It was supposed to be Ruben's day off and now you felt guilty for ruining it.

"Yeah, but they got pretty bored of watching TV all day." He said. "I didn't mind taking them to the park. We had pretty fun playing football."

"Uncle Ruben lost." Emmy said, throwing away her popsicle stick in the nearest bin. "I thought you said that he was a professional auntie Y/N?"

"I am." Ruben frowned.

"Could have fooled me." Emmy scoffed and walked off to join her brother that had taken interest in the old people doing a funny dance under the oak tree.

"It was two against one." Ruben assured you.

Laleh laughed.

"Sure it was, baby." You patted his arm.

"It was. And I was tired from a whole week of training."

"Of course you were." You pushed up and pecked his lips, whispering against his mouth, "I hope you're not too tired for tonight. I'm finally off my period."

Ruben's eyes widened with interest, a smirk twitching his lips. "I'll see you at home then."

"See you." You waved, teeth biting down on your lips.

You went back to work that afternoon with mixed feelings. The week had gone by so fast. Your niece and nephew were going back home to live with their dad just when they were starting to come to terms with the fact that their mother was never coming back to them. It will be hard to let them go, not knowing if your parents will pamper them with the same loving affirmation like you have been doing every day for the past week.

"What are you thinking about?"

Ruben's chest vibrated against your face, his voice quiet and deep in the night. The children had gone to bed early while you and Ruben stayed up in your room, finally getting a moment to yourself.

"I'm worried about Emmy and Vale."

"You are? Why?" Ruben's finger drew lazy patterns on the hill of your naked shoulder. He did so, tracing his finger down your arm and then back up again, causing goosebumps to rise.

"My parents..." You sighed. "They're not very good with kids."

"No?"

"No."

Ruben lay quiet, his eyes gazing at the ceiling before stating the obvious. "Didn't they have two of their own?"

You shut your eyes, but shifted so that your chin rested against Ruben's sternum. Your eyes opened and found Ruben watching you, his expression dark but attentive.

"They did have two kids." You nodded. "But my sister and I took care of each other. At least for the most part. It was mainly in our teens that our parents stopped paying attention to us. Almost as if they one day decided that they had done enough for us."

"I see." Ruben removed a strand of hair from your face, letting his hand linger against your cheek.

"It was terrible." You said, remembering your parents' first vacation without you, and then the second one and the third one.... Liza wasn't too bothered by their absence, but that's because she had football. You on the other hand developed some bad attachment issues. Issues that showed themselves in future relationships. Mainly how you handled heartbreak, often blaming yourself. You also put others before you to a point where your own boss found you a replacement to cover your shift at work, only because she knew that you wouldn't dare to ask for a day off on your birthday. That's how much of a people pleaser you were (had become).

"It's a good thing that they have each other, no?"

"Huh?"

Ruben nibbled his fingers at your earlobe. "Emmy and Vale," He said. "I'm sure that they'll be looking after each other."

"Yes, but they shouldn't have to. My parents should—"

There was a crack of the door as it slowly came ajar. "Auntie Y/N?"

"Emmy?" You quickly reached for the bed sheets.

"Auntie Y/N, we can't sleep."

"No?" You couldn't see her where you lay pressed against Ruben's naked chest, the two of you butt naked under the sheets. Nevertheless, the door cracked open some more and you sighed.

"Yes. Me and Vale. Can we sleep in here with you and uncle Ruben?"

"Erm..." Ruben was already reaching for something on the floor. A pair of shorts. "You know what. Why don't you go and wait for me in your room? I'll be right there with you, baby."

"Oh. Okay." Her bare feet were heard scattering away, leaving the bedroom door open.

"Fuck."

You pushed off the mattress, climbing over Ruben, sliding down the bed. You hurried to get dressed, looking back at your boyfriend who was left in bed.

"I'm so sorry. I've got to—"

"It's okay." Ruben smiled. A thin smile. "I'll see you in the morning."

You nodded, closing the door behind you. The apartment lay quiet in the night, the city lights showing you their way towards the guest room. You opened the door with a light knock and was surprised to find Emmy and Vale in bed together with the dog. Iker who squealed and wagged his tail at the sight of you.

Vale was fast asleep while Emmy moved over to make a spot for you in the middle. There you settled with the dog curling up on top of your pillow and Emmy wrapping her arms around your stomach. You draped your arm over her head, pressing her closer to you. That's how you fell asleep, to the sound of the dog's light snores, in unison with the children's. For the split second between sleep and alert, you thought of Ruben and how this was the first time in three years that you slept apart. At least without saying goodnight.

The next morning went by in a flash. By ten o'clock you Ruben and the kids were out of the apartment, on the road back to London.

It wasn't that you were in a rush. It was just that the drive back to Bournemouth would take your parents a few hours. It was best for the children to grab their things as early as possible to save time.

"There they are!"

"Grandma!"

"Grandpa!"

Emmy and Vale scattered out of Ruben's car as it pulled up to your sister's house. Your parents had coincidentally arrived at the sametime you did.

"How are my favorite grandchildren?"

"Grandma, we're your only grandchildren." Emmy and Vale giggled, swept up in your mother's embrace.

"Are you? How could I forget?"

It was all smiles and giggles in the front yard. Your dad and Ruben shook hands, but not much more words were exchanged beyond that. Same thing with your mother. The farthest they had gone to approve of your relationship with Ruben was in the form of an yearly invitation to visit them in Bournemouth in the summer. But only at the sametime as your sister and her children were there. Other than that they left you and Ruben alone. Possibly because they were both radical traditionalists. Your mother once told you when you first started dating Ruben, that a man like him would only string you along as long as you maintained your youth and never upsetted his lifestyle by bearing children. It was a cruel and unfair thing to say, and perhaps your parents being born and raised in Chelsea might have something to do with their resentment towards your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you had learned to live with it and so had Ruben.

"Kids!" Your dad announced with a clap of his hands. "Let's go inside and help your dad with your things. We have a long drive ahead of us once we're done."

"Yay!" Emmy and Vale joyously sprinted into their home, through the door that had been left unlocked.

You and Ruben entered the house behind your parents. But just like them you were struck by the mess in the living room and the kitchen. Boxes lay scattered all over the floor. Boxes containing old books, records and pictures of—"

A heart-wrenching scream shook the house.

"Emmy!" Your heart tied a knot as you sprinted through the house in search of her. You passed the living room and pushed through the door to the office. In that moment an incredible stench hit you like a wall, tearing up your eyes as you regarded the tragic scene before you.

"My dad is dead. My dad is dead!" Emmy cried, and ran to you hiding her face. Vale on the other hand, stood in shock, his mouth left open, watching his father who lay slumped over the desktop his skin pale and gray. However, he wasn't dead. He was just passed out in a pool of his own vomit. Hence the stench. You counted at least four bottles of something strong, whiskey perhaps.

"Y/N?" Ruben appeared behind you in the door, wrinkling his nose once the smell hit him too.

"Oh dear." Your mother gasped. Your dad pushed past her and into the room his eyes wide and his breath shallow. "Valentie." He hissed. "Please, get away from there."

He didn't move, his feet remaining glued to the floor while his body trembled all over.

"Oh dear." Your mother repeated tugging at your arm for you and Emmy to step out of the room. However, you couldn't leave, not without Vale.

"Son, please" Your dad pleaded. Tears were seen streaming down Vale's cheeks but other than that he was unresponsive.

Your mother could no longer bare the tragic scene and disappeared down the hall, dialing 999 on her phone. Meanwhile you and Ruben watched how your dad struggled to get Vale's attention. The boy was simply in shock.

"Vale please." You cried. "Come to me." His sister trembled in your embrace, her arms wrapped around you tightly. So tight that you couldn't move. "Please, Vale."

His tearfilled eyes shifted towards you and the look in them was nothing but dreadful, emptied of all light.

"That's it. Good boy." You encouraged, as his little feet shuffled slowly towards you, or towards Ruben to be exact. He walked past your dad, stretching his arms above his head. And for a moment you saw the hesitation in Ruben's eyes. The fear. But he bent down to pick him up, cradling a sniffling Vale in his embrace.

The ambulance pulled up to the house as you stepped out of it. And just as you thought to see the end of a nightmare, another one had just begun.

Part 5 and Part 6 are out on my Patreon!

[itscooltoskate]

Innocent coffee sip vs...

Sipping his coffee... judgingly

Unrelated but this guy's having 7 years of bad sex

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[cherry-leclerc]

can’t you see ☆ mv1

genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers

req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)

“What a fucking asshole.”

Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething. 

“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”

Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled. 

As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.

Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back. 

“You say that every time.”

Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”

“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.” 

“You’re older than both of us combined.”

“Hey!”

Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost. 

“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.

“Is something funny to you?”

You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”

Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.

“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”

“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”

“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.

“Cute.”

You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”

As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2. 

“Should I be worried about the rain?”

“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”

You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”

It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees  that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction. 

“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”

It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.

Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined. 

“Are you alright?”

Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.

“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.

“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”

Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.

-

“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”

“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”

It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.

“All I wanted was a warm soup.”

A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at  hand.

“Hey.”

Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”

Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.

“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”

After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.

“He so likes her.”

-

“We might have been wrong.”

Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”

Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”

“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”

-

Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.

“I love a good soup!”

Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.

“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”

“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”

“Yeah, well, there’s one-”

“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.

“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”

Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”

The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.

“It’s definitely working.”

He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand. 

“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”

-

Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.

“Watch it!”

Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression. 

“What’s this hostile situation about?”

Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”

“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”

Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.

“You like her!”

“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”

“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”

It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?” 

“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.

“She doesn’t like me.”

Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”

Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.

“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink. 

“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”

-

After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.

“More soup?”

Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-

“Wanna come in?”

Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair. 

“I’ve never hated you.”

You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”

“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”

He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.

But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.

“T-that’s not what I came here for-”

“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie- 

Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.

It’s him.

Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”

“I might need more.”

It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more. 

You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you. 

He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.

“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.

“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”

Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”

“I’m so-”

Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”

A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.

“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”

“Wh-”

“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”

He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.

“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”

And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him. 

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

Simon scores a date with his favorite medic

Or

Simon has to be under her watch after getting a knife to the gut.

"Oi, doc." Simon calls out and you sigh softly, gaze drifting from your patient report to him, his unmasked figure lays on the medical bed, gauze wrapped tightly over his abdomen, keeping his newest injury guarded from anything that could rub on or mess up the stitches.

"Why'd they call you K-9?" One of his thin, eyeblack stained eyebrows lifts as he looks at you, already feeling bored from having to stay still for so long, movement limited by the patched up stab wound on his stomach.

"Long story." You dismiss him, looking back down at the patient report you were writing for him. His medical file was interesting, indicating no pictures of him should ever be taken, as well as additional personal and professional information.

"You got surgery in 2020, what's that about?" You didn't notice any bigger scars whenever he was injured, having already seen his naked torso and part of his legs.

"Curious 'bout me, doc?" His tone is slightly teasing, the smug bastard thinking he's funny by asking that. A single eye roll is enough to get him to speak, a deep, gravelly chuckle escaping his lips before he answers.

"Took a nasty gunshot to the leg, was fadin' fast." He lays back down, gaze drifting towards the ceiling as he thinks about it. He was so close to death himself, only three years ago.

"Thought it'd be more interesting." Your bluntness never fails to make him double take. It's not passive aggressive or mean, just... way too honest. More than he's used to.

"I'll get a proper grand injury just for you, lass." You roll your eyes again, taking a sip from your coffee to hide the way the corners of your lips are tugging up. It's amusing, really, to find out how much Simon has changed throughout the years. Price told you he used to be much more quiet, though after 4 years of working with the task force, he was able to open up, getting more and more used to interacting with a team rather than being a lone wolf.

"That's not necessary, I can give it to you myself if you'd like." Your gloved hand presses on the scalpel on your white coat before going back to writing his medical report, tone laced with subtle humor.

"She can joke." He taunts, trying to sit up before a sharp hiss of pain escapes his lips. You frown, the report taking way too long to finish because you keep getting interrupted.

"Hold on." You walk up to him, hands holding onto his strong back before you try to help the behemoth of a man sit up. His calloused hands hold onto your forearms, a few low, deep groans escaping his lips at the strain his flexing muscles are causing to the fresh injury.

"Fuckin' hell." He mutters and you look up, eyes focusing on his pained expression for a second too long. Simon isn't ugly, really, but when his face is all scrunched up in pain, sweat gathering in the form of clear specks all over his eyeblack stained skin? He looks almost majestic. You get your head out of the gutter, placing some soft pillows behind his back to help keep him up without much strain.

"You should be healed up soon enough, got lucky the bastard didn't stab that deep." You shrug, looking back at the tiny coffee maker in your office before you look back up at him, his brown eyes already staring back at you, pupils blown, as usual.

"Want some coffee?" He shakes his head politely, eyes closing in pain as he tries to get into a more comfortable position.

"A cuppa would be nice." You flick his forehead softly, tired eyes drifting towards the clock on the wall. 0100, yet you simply nod and grab your phone from the desk.

"Try not to die while I'm gone." The door closes behind you before he can reply, brown eyes closing as he sighs when you're gone. He doesn't even know how it all started. Simon is a man of discipline, a soldier, a Ghost, yet the way his heart quickens and his cock hardens whenever he's with you is something he can't control, as if a parasite made home in his brain and is using his body as a vessel, ridding him completely of any self-control.

You come back 10 minutes later, a tray with a cup of hot tea and food placed on his lap, the almost comforting warmth quickly spreading through his legs and body.

"Thank you." He moves the spoon around the cup of Earl Grey, letting the sugar mix in for a hot minute before he takes a sip from it, nodding his head once in approval. He was starving, really, but he tried his best to eat slowly, ignoring his hungry stomach begging him to wolf it all down. His eyes drift back to the tray, attention caught by the singular orange left there.

His hands fumble for one of the knives in his clothes, finding all of the straps were removed by you and placed too far away for his injured body to reach. He looks back up at you, admiring you in silence and truly taking you in. The way you lift your glasses every once in a while even before they can slip down the bridge of your nose, the way your hand fiddles with the pen and your lips turn into a small pout whenever you're not sure how to describe something in the report, the way you look so angelic under the dim lights of the infirmary—

"What are you lookin' at?" You don't even bother looking back at him, feeling his stare on you for the past two minutes. He has such an intense gaze that makes you feel as if he can see through your soul, yet it never intimidated you.

"Nothin', bird, nothin'. Peeled you an orange."

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Prince Charming

req: Can i request dad!jj x mom!reader when she breastfeeding in public BC I geniusly want to know how he would react, possessive ? goofy ?

Warnings: breastfeeding, DAMN KARENS, protective jj <33, dad!jayj, fluff

“Aw shit.” He grumbled when she started to sob in line, everyone turning to look at them. “What? Never heard a baby cry before?” He told them, you hitting his shoulder. But it worked, they all turned back around, embarrassed that the Maybank boy would call them out.

You sighed, picking her up, and checking her diaper real quick. That wasn’t the problem. So you started to cradle her, shushing her gently and rocking her in your arms. Her sobs still hadn’t quieted. You glanced around the cafe, turning back to JJ.

“Go sit down.” He shrugged, leaning down to the baby in your arms, tickling her and making a funny face in attempt to make her smile or laugh.

It made her laugh for a moment, but when he stopped, her sobs were right back. You gave him a small smile, as a thank you for the attempt.

“I got it. I remember your order. It’s a-“

“I know you do.” You giggled, shaking your head at the boy and grabbing the stroller with one hand , walking to the nearest corner as quickly as you could.

You sat her down in your lap, and began to look for anything to cover yourself, since your baby hated the nursing cover. You couldn’t find anything and she had began to tug on your shirt, so you huffed and just pulled it up, not caring at this point.

JJ came back with your drinks and food rather quick, sitting next to you, giving you a small smile and setting it onto the table.

Your baby latched onto your nipple, and you already knew people would be staring. They always did.

JJ glanced around, scooting closer to you when he noticed a specific man staring a little too concentrated. JJ glared at the man, making direct eye contact with him.

The man turned away, swallowing the lump in his throat. JJ smiled victoriously, turning back to you. That’s when he noticed more stares, from younger kids and others, who you could care less about.

“These fucking people need to mind their business.” He grumbled out, sipping on the coffee he had in front of him.

“They always stare.” You shrugged. “I give up on caring at this point.”

“It’s like they’ve never seen a pair of tits in their life.” He snorted, you turning to face him and raising your eyebrow at him.

“What? I’m just saying the truth.” He murmured, putting an arm on your chair and around you.

“Sometimes I wonder how I let myself get knocked up by you.”

“Fair enough.” He tilted his head to the side. Everything was fine for a little. You were drinking your water, Jj was content with drinking his coffee, rambling on, and she was still drinking your milk. That was until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You both turned, looking at the older woman who stared down at you. You knew when she had a Karen haircut, that she would be saying some shit.

“Uhm, excuse me. That is extremely inappropriate, and you shouldn’t be doing it in a public place.”

JJ had a scowl on his face at her words, you looking at the woman confused and anger beginning to bubble in your stomach.

“I’m sorry?” You scoffed, glancing down at your baby.

“My husband is at the table, and we both find it difficult to eat when we’re distracted by…” she motioned to your baby with her hands.

You had to laugh. You laughed in her face, her making a disgusted face.

“Yeah, I think your husband is distracted for a different reason, lady.” JJ glanced at the man sitting at the table. He waved, the man staring at him. “I know, she’s got tits, crazy, woo fucking hoo. Can you leave us alone?” He exclaimed.

“It is disgusting, why not go into the bathroom or something and do… that?”

You were going to open your mouth before JJ spoke for you.

“Oh my god, mind your business. The baby’s hungry, why is that so weird and disgusting? It’s not.”

She huffed, immediately going over to the workers, demanding a manager. JJ scoffed, pulling you both closer towards him, glancing at the lady’s husband.

“Your girlfriend could be a bit more… modest.” He spoke.

“And you could go fuck yourself.” JJ retorted before turning back to you.

“Thank you.” You murmured to him.

“Don’t thank me. Gotta keep my girls safe, don’t I?”

“Oh, Prince Charming.” You retorted. “What would I do without you?”

“You would die without me.”

“I probably would.” You smiled, the manager walking over to your table, the woman standing next to him.

“What seems to be the problem?” He sighed out, not seeming so amused by the lady.

You shrugged, JJ just still glaring at the lady. “I’m just trying to feed her.” You murmured.

“She’s doing it in public! Where anyone- a child can see… all her stuff!”

JJ’s jaw tightened, the manager taking notice. “Okay- okay, can we, like, calm down?” He told the woman.

“Kick them out and then I will!”

JJ was struggling to keep his composure, you knew it. You turned to him, laying a hand on his arm and shaking your head.

“They’re not doing anything wrong.” The manager spoke to the lady. “There’s nothing I can do. But you’re causing a disruption, and I’m afraid if it continues, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” He told her, her face falling. She shook her head, grabbing her purse and stuff, then both leaning while shouting.

The manager sighed, going over to the table, wiping it down and picking up cups, stopping at your table again.

“Sorry about that. My wife used to breastfeed, and I can’t tell you how annoying it is when people like that exist.” He laughed, you smiling and laughing along. “How old is she?”

“6 months.” You smiled, glancing down at her before turning back to the man.

“That’s lovely. Miss them when they’re that young. Mines is 14 now.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You told him, he smiled and shrugged.

“Yeah.” You could just tell the fondness he had for them, in his eyes and the way he spoke. “Well, you two have a good day, alright?”

“You too.” JJ gave him a small smile, nodding his head, before turning back to you. You moved to unlatch her, once you felt like she had enough. JJ pulled down your shirt, and you sat her down and finally began to eat in peace.

“Oh my God.” He suddenly spoke, you turning to him with furrowed eyebrows. “What? What?” You asked him.

“I’m gonna teach her how to cuss at people.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. So when you don’t have me, your Prince Charming, you have her just going ‘fwuck you!’ It’s perfect.”

“Yeah, well, that’s if she doesn’t pick your sailors mouth before you can even teach her.”

“Hey, you cuss just as much as me, ma’am.”

“I’m not saying ‘fuck, shit, or piss’ every 20 minutes though.”

He thought for a moment, before nodding. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.”

[mothhball]

Positive Reinforcement

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged

Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.

Words | 6.2k

Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol

Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.

Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.

But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?

Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.

But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.

“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.

The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.

A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.

“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”

You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.

“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”

“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”

This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?

“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.

“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”

Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.

Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.

"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"

His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.

"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"No. Because I know what you'll choose."

"Then I'm not doing it."

Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.

"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.

"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.

Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”

Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?

“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.

“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”

The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.

Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.

“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”

“But I need to. You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.

“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”

“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.

“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”

Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”

The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.

“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.

“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”

“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.

“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”

“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.

“I mean it.”

He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.

 “Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.

“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.

Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.

“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.

“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.

Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.

You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.

“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.

“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.

“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”

You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.

After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.

“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”

You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.

“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”

You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.

Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.

“You okay?”

“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.

“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.

Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.

“What?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.

“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”

He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.

“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”

It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.

“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”

“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.

“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.

“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.

You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.

His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.

“Jonathan…”

For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.

“Fuck – “

“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.

Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.

Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.

“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”

Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.

Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”

You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.

Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.

You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.

“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“C… can you – “

“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”

You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.

“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”

Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”

You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.

“There we go… stretched open so well.”

You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.

Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.

"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.

"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."

Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.

"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"

You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.

"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."

You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.

The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.

“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.

“N… no…” you whine

“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”

“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.

“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”

“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “

“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”

And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.

“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.

For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.

“I love you…”

“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”

[erwinsvow]

introducing... bitchy reader!

rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.

so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.

you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.

“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”

“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”

“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.

“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth. 

you nearly sound like rafe.

“that is so rude-”

“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”

“what truth?” his sister questions.

“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”

rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter. 

“hey! i’m not bored-”

“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”

“he has other hobbies! like-”

“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”

“shut up.”

“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing. 

“i’m not gonna change my mind-”

“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.

“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”

“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”

“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.

“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.

“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.

“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”

blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.

“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.

“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”

“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.

“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.

“no. no, i-”

“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”

“hey, kid, i-”

“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.

“so have you?” you pause, turning again.

“have i what?” “made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”

“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

“that’s not an answer.”

“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.

“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.

“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.

rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.

[chaosandmarigolds]

Before we begin. I would like to remind you all that Caleb is a fictional character, he cannot be hurt- but so is Simon Riley so do with that information what you will :)

“Garrick.”

Johnny clears his throat before speaking, the commotion of the station loud through the phone, “Ya n the missus still in th’ country?”

To that Kyle frowned, moving carry on bag to sit down on the chair, “We’re just gettin back from Las Vegas, Becca got-“

“Ollie is gone.”

well. That sent a shock through his system, with a quick straighten of the posture Kyle speaks again, “An’ Simon doesn’t-“

“Some bullshit happenin’ makin it look like he helped his girl with kidnappin em from da dad, dad’s takin em …”a breath, “Si doesn’t know Ollie is gone yet. He’s been in questionin for five hours kno.”

Kyle looks down at his boots for a moment, meanwhile his wife gives him a confused stare, “Jesus- fuck, you need me?”

“I dunnae ye. Probably, ya got a ETA?”

Kyle shrugged and then looks at Rebecca, who had her luggage stolen so they were waiting on the security to do their work. “Si’s kid is missin.”

She stares up at him in disbelief for a moment, “How?”

“Bio-dad bullshit.” Kyle puts the phone to his ear again, “Hows Cap holding up?”

“Pissed off. But we all are.”

“Ya seen LT yet?”

“Nah, got her’ two hours go.”

-

If he were being honest, he wanted to simply take the gun and shoot the detective- it would finally make that man shut his mouth. However, Simon was showing self restraint, yet that task grew harder with each moment. So as he sat in the empty room, he was mainly focusing on keeping his breathing even, and temper in check.

About ten minutes went by before someone came to let him go, and to no one surprise Price was behind the door with the officer.

“I need you to be-“

“Where’s Ollie? Where is she?”

Price tried to keep his expression neutral, “Caleb had temporary rights-“

“The fuck does that mean? Where is MY SON?” Okay, so temper wasn’t in check but he was doing his best.

“He’s going to Las Vegas.”

—

Rebecca sipped her coffee as she sat in the airport lounge, after talking the security and as Kyle gave out the description of the small boy. She was currently going through Caleb’s social media, as someone had gone through a lot of trouble to edit photos where Simon had been in and replace them with himself, somehow editing the timestamps as well. Which was funny, because normally she was the phone taking the family photos.

With a frown she turns her phone over and looks around the bustling airport.

That’s when she spots Caleb. Hoodie pulled up to cover his face and quickly walking through the terminals.

Some part of her knew she needed to tell Kyle, and to not rush after him. And she knew he probably could’ve over powered her/ but it was so easy to just use that book she had grabbed as she went after him to take him down.

He probably could’ve thrown her off but instead he let her pin him down, panicked eyes and heaved breathing. “I swear! I didn’t- it wasn’t my idea! They-I owed the em money! I had to!”

“Where is Oliver?”

“They had me hand him off-off to some lady! I don’t know! Russian, tall, I don’t know!”

Rebecca looks down at him, her heart beginning to race as the security began to come over and to grab them, and she slowly turned as Kyle pulls her away. “I don’t…I don’t think is about Ollie. I don’t think this is about him at all.”

-

Ollie stares at the ground of the small plane, having a cup of water and a little baggie of goldfish in front of him. His eyes red with tears.

“Oh, come now little man, eat up. Get strong.” The woman coax’s, her voice muffled by the accent but her smile sweet, “Your father does not want to see you hurt.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I know. But you cannot go right now, your father- he owes us a debt.”

—-

Tee…tee hee 🤍🤍

(Am I getting carried away? Yes obviously. But I am having too much fun to stop)

[luveline]

whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 

He looks the same. 

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 

"That's for you," you say. 

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 

"You think I've changed?" he asks. 

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 

"I remember everything." 

"Right. Your photographic memory." 

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 

You stare at his book. 

"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 

"I don't really remember." 

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 

You glare at him. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 

"Deal." 

[loveharlow]

Headcannon for JJ 😍

Bsf!JJ taking care of drunk reader after a party and she’s being like super difficult and annoying but he still looks after her and they end up cuddling in bed 🫶

i feel like she act like a whiny child honestly, just pouts and hundreds of "nooo"'s and "get awayyy"'s

underage drinking, swearing

"It's hot in hereeee." You whined, falling limply onto the couch in John B's living room as everyone stumbled inside. Every one of you was some form of intoxicated, states ranging from buzzed to completely wasted.

Needless to say you were on the far end of that spectrum.

"Probably because you have on my hoodie." JJ's voice met your ears, the boy sitting next to your feet as the others scattered.

"I'm gonna be sick..." Kie groaned as she locked herself in the bathroom.

"Please don't throw up on the bathmat, it's new!" A barely tipsy John B called as he kicked the front door shut, carrying a giggly Sarah into his room, sighing as he let the girl fall to the mattress and put the covers over her.

"You're all irresponsible and I'm not playing nurse when you reap the consequences in the morning." Pope said simply, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge — pulling out a water and walking out onto the patio.

You giggled mindlessly, head rolling side to side. "You're all so funny..." You wheezed.

"Okay, Tequila Princess. Let's get you situated..." JJ advised, attempting to sit you up straight as two of his hands went under your back, but you offered no support, your frame hanging lifeless in his arms. "C'mon, Munchkin." He groaned, using all his strength to prop you up against the couch properly. "There we go."

The blonde lifted your arms, threading them backwards through the arm holes to get the piece of clothing off of you.

"Nooo, what're you doin'?" You moaned, weakly slapping his arms away.

"Thought you said you were hot..." He paused in his movements, cocking an eyebrow at you.

In your drunken state, you managed to reel your neck back at his statement, a look of suspicion on your face before a small smirk emerged. "...You think I'm hot?"

He just giggled, slightly buzzed himself. "You want the hoodie off or not?"

"Yes-"

"Okay then." He told you, moving to pull your other arm out.

"But then I'll be cold!" You reprimanded, snatching your other arm away as the boy sighed.

"Then I'll tuck you in." He said, voice a bit short as he knew you'd be difficult until you started to doze off.

"But what if the covers come off-"

"Then I will cuddle with you, alright?" He said firmly. "I'll hold you so tight you won't be able to move a muscle, okay? Now, give me your arm."

You didn't respond, just pouted drunkenly as you allowed your best friend to take the hoodie off of you, pulling it over your head and knocking strands of hair into your vision as he tossed it to the side and stood up, heading towards the fridge.

You tried to remove the annoying pieces of keratin out of your face and unwind them from your lashes and unstick them from your lips as you heard the clanking of glass in the kitchen before the blonde was returning, a glass of water in his hand.

"Here, drink this." He said, handing you the glass, stopping you as you reached for it with one hand. "Use both hands." Doing as he said, you brought the glass to your lips as he knelt down in front of you, taking off your shoes.

"Eugh!-" You gagged, pulling the glass from your lips as you took your first sip. "What is this?"

"...It's water, princess."

"Ngh...why is it warm?" You cringed, leaning forward to put the glass on the coffee table as JJ removed your other shoe.

"Because if I put ice in it, you'd drink it too fast and get a headache." He said, standing up straight and looming above you and holding both of his hands out. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

You slapped your hands into his, allowing the blonde to help you up off the couch and lead you into the guest room. "Ooh! Can we sleep on the beach tonight? Like last time?" You asked, pupils wide as JJ laid you down and tucked you in.

"No, we cannot." He said, shaking his head and laughing as a frown immediately replaced your giddy expression.

"Why not?" You asked, tone grumpy as the boy climbed in bed behind you, you shuffling to face him.

"Because, like last time, you'll run out into the water and I'll have to catch you."

"Hmph." You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Whatever..."

You could feel the boy huff out of laughter as his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you closer into him as yours went around his waist.

"...Night, Munchkin."

"...'Night, J."

©loveharlow.

[sukirichi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐔𝐍)𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎

+ contains fluff, banters, choji kinda chokes sakura, and cursing. fluff !! fem reader. shy! togame (divider from @/enchanthings)

+ wc. 1.5k

Togame sat in the bustling café with Sakura and Choji on his sides. They’d gathered around the small, circular table cluttered with coffee cups and dessert plates. Outside, the early evening lights of the city flickered to life, highlighting their faces as they all sat – hunched, heads nearly bumping into each other and speaking with hushed voices. They were talking about an issue of most importance, after all. Extremely confidential, according to Sakura, but more like extremely impossible, according to Togame.

“So, Togame,” Choji started, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “We’ve been talking, and we think YN likes you.”

Togame, who had been sipping his latte, nearly choked. He coughed, setting the cup down hastily. “What? No way,” he said, shaking his head with a nervous chuckle. “She doesn’t like me like that.”

Sure, you looked at him often, and even rewarded him with the prettiest smiles, but Togame wasn’t stupid. You were just nice like that – smiling and waving at everyone.

He wasn’t special… right?

Sakura rolled his eyes, exasperated. Choji had been the one insisting that you liked him back, but Sakura had been the greatest ‘witness.’ Said he would dye his hair completely black if Togame remained blind to the way you stumbled over your words whenever Togame was involved. “Come on, Togame. She’s always laughing at your jokes, even the terrible ones. And she goes out of her way to spend time with you. It’s pretty obvious. Plus, you’re not that fucking funny, y’know?”

“Right,” Choji nods his agreement. “You don’t laugh at someone’s shitty jokes unless you like them.”

Togame felt a blush creeping up his neck, thankful that the collar of his jacket hid it. “That doesn’t mean anything,” he protested. “She’s just nice to everyone. Besides, I’m sure she’s not interested in me that way.”

Unbeknownst to Togame, you had just entered the café with the plans to join them. Choji had sent you a quick text half an hour ago that he needed your help with something, but never specified with. Still, you came as fast as you could. It wasn’t every day that Choji requested for anything, and honestly, after introducing you to Togame – your crush – you kind of owed him a favor.

Until you heard bits and pieces of their conversation, your name thrown in, and you stopped short in your tracks. You quickly stepped back and hid behind a nearby plant. Your heart raced as you listened it, uncaring of the ache in your thighs at the uncomfortable squatting position. There was just no way you’d miss a word of what they said.

“Togame, you’re clueless,” Choji laughed. “She’s always finding excuses to be near you. Remember that time she showed up at the park, ‘coincidentally’ when you were there? And the countless study sessions she insists on having, even though she’s a total genius and doesn’t need help? Hell, she’s smarter than you. The hell does she need you to tutor her on?”

Togame scratched the back of his head, feeling increasingly embarrassed. He did remember that. There were times you came up to him, a pout on your pretty face as you told him your struggles on math problems. Not that Jo could count for shit, but he didn’t want to turn you down. Or worse, to appear stupid in front of you. “I thought she just wanted to hang out. We’re friends, that’s all.”

Sakura sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “You’re so dense, Togame. It’s obvious to everyone but you. She’s into you, trust me.”

Still hidden behind the plant, you felt your heart swell. You bite your lip to suppress your smile, a whirlwind of happiness and nervous swirling in your belly. You’d liked Togame for a long time, but you’d always been too shy to say anything. He was the Togame Jo, second of Shishitoren. Talks of his strength and greatness were shared across the streets. Compared to him, you weren’t particularly special. You had always assumed he only treated you kindly because you were Choji’s friend, and whoever Choji liked, Togame did, too.

It just never would’ve occurred in your wildest dreams that he liked you like that. So hearing his friends insist that Togame was so oblivious to your feelings were both amusing and endearing.

Togame shook his head, trying to stay composed. “Even if that were true, which I doubt, why would she like me? I’m just... me.”

“Exactly,” Choji said, as if that explained everything. “You’re funny, kind, and you’ve got that whole devil-may-care attitude going on. Girls dig that. I know she does.”

Sakura hums in agreement. “Plus, you’re always there for her. You care about her, and she knows it. Maybe she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

Togame felt his face grow hot, his mind racing with the implications of what they were saying. Could it be true? Did you actually like him? He shook his head again, more to clear his thoughts than to disagree. As much as he fancied (he dreamt of it happening everyday) the idea of having his feelings reciprocated, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Besides, you had a great friendship with one another. He couldn’t – didn’t  want – to ruin that.

“I just... I don’t see it. I mean, she’s amazing, but I’m not sure she feels the same way.”

Hearing the hesitance and self-doubt in his voice made your heart ache.

You couldn’t stay hidden any longer. With your heart pounding in your chest, you stepped out from behind the plant, your eyes fixed on Togame’s fresh undercut. Sakura and Choji were the ones to find you, the former’s eyes widening, while Choji’s face lit up in a mischievous smirk.

“Oh shit–” Sakura exclaimed, nudging Togame in what was a failed attempt of being discreet.

Togame turned to see you standing there, looking both nervous and determined. He felt his stomach drop, a mixture of panic and anticipation swirling within him. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, did you? At least he hoped you didn’t, because he could barely muster a genuine smile right now.

“Oh... hey,” he stammered, his voice betraying his surprise. Underneath the table, Togame kicked Choji in the shin when the shorter man giggled.

You took a deep breath, your gaze. “I heard what you were talking about,” you begin, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “And I just wanted to say... your friends are right, Togame.”

Togame blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. “What?”

You smiled softly, stepping closer. “I like you, Togame. I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t know if you felt the same way. I was too scared to tell you.”

The café seemed to fall silent around the two of you, the moment stretching into eternity. Togame’s face flushed a deep red, his heart racing as your words sank in. Sakura and Choji watched with bated breath, their eyes wide with anticipation. They’d made a bet before arriving at the café on who would confess first – a bet Sakura was losing miserably. With a low groan, he fisted his five hundred yen and shoved it to Choji’s waiting hands.

“You... you like me? Is that right?” Togame repeated, hardly daring to believe it.

You nodded, you smile widening. “Yes, I do. A lot.”

Togame’s mind raced, replaying every interaction you’d ever had, seeing them in a new light. The times you laughed at his jokes, the study sessions, the ‘coincidental’ meetings – all of it made sense now. He felt a rush of emotions – relief, joy, disbelief – overwhelm him.

“I’ll be damned,” he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really thought these two–” he gestured to his friends, “–were messing with me.”

Your smile brightened. “Well, now you know,” you said softly.

Before they could say more, Choji erupted into cheers, breaking the spell. He nearly knocked over Sakura when he slung an arm around his neck, dragging him down to mockingly point a finger in Togame’s direction. “We told you!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “Finally, you both admit it! I thought my hair would turn grey before either of you said a thing!”

Sakura sighed, and fought against Choji’s choking hold. “Yes, yes, we get it. They’re perfect for each other. Now stop lying and admit you’re just happy because you won the bet.”

“Of course I would,” Choji scoffed, “I’ve known Togame a long time. You really think that cool bravado of his means he actually has the balls to confess? Nah, it’s all for show. I knew YN had more guts than him.”

You and Togame were both flustered, but you couldn’t stop smiling. The café buzzed with excitement as the four of you celebrated the not-so unexpected confessions. And Togame? A sense of warmth settled over him, knowing that the person he’d secretly admired for so long felt the same way about him.

As Choji and Sakura bantered back and forth, Togame dared to reach out and slip his hands into yours under the table. The first contact made you jolt, heat creeping up your neck. It takes a few moments, and Togame’s equally shy smile, before you squeezed his hand in return. And for the first time in a long while, Togame felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[cherriesformatt]

a day || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: what would a typical day as Matt's girlfriend would look like

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,6k

a/n: idk let me know how I did English is not my first language but I am working on it

🍒

I was on my way from a long, Friday, morning meeting and all I was thinking about was going back to bed and never leaving it again. My week started with my car breaking down out of nowhere, then I got my period (which is not as bad when you think about it because it would be worse if I didn't get it), and then I had an actual meeting, in an actual office, with actual people (I usually work from home in my pajamas). 

I had to drive my boyfriend's car to the meeting downtown. I am glad that I could, but let me tell you one thing, my boyfriend's car is giant and to park this lady downtown I needed to leave 30 minutes early. 

chris 🦋:

waiting for u outside thx for picking me up kid ❤️

"oh fuck" I said to myself as I quickly did a U-turn before it was too late. Was it safe? No. Did everyone survive? Yes.

I totally forgot that I was supposed to pick up Chris from his own meeting since Matt couldn't because I had their car. I dialed Chrise's number.

"hi, ur okay?" he asked. 

"yes, I just might or might not forgot to pick you up so I'll be there in 15 okay? I'm sorry I had a rough morning..." 

"Bro no worries I'll pick up some coffee while I wait and you drive safe okay?" I smiled because wasn't he the best? He doesn't even drink coffee. 

"Okay I'll see you there"

I ended the call and typed Chris's location. It wasn't that bad with the traffic so I was there in less than 15 minutes. 

I was able to park where he was waiting so he got into the passenger seat and smiled at me while I started driving again. I really want to be home. 

"I would say good morning but I'll keep that to myself. Got you an americano and banana bread" He put my coffee in the cup holder and threw his backpack on the back seat. 

"Thank you, that's really sweet, I am literally half dead so that will help" I laughed and took a sip of my coffee. 

"I still think that my brother is dating a weirdo, how can you even drink it black and unsweetened?" Chris looks at me with a disgusted face. 

"You are all literally bunch of weirdos so I just matched the energy you know" I blinked at him and stopped on the red. 

"How was your meeting? New fresh love is gonna be fire. I got the drafts in my mail this morning. Did not change a thing. You and the team did great" I said and smiled at him. 

I was a graphic designer and helped Chris at the beginning of his brand, but I did not really want to work for him so I just help sometimes if it's needed. I am really happy that he still likes to know what I think about the projects tho. I also used to work for Laura but not anymore. That's basically how we all met. I quit after me and Matt started to be a thing. 

"I know right? Well, I knew you will love it. The meeting was great, we should be able to make everything work by the end of the month. And guess what... I actually got samples and I have a pink set for you kid" 

"Honestly... made my day, I am going to wear it for everything now" I laughed.

"Just don't post it yet" He said and started to click things on the car's screen.

"Just use my phone for music" I gave him my phone and he typed my code and put our favorite song by lil skies on. 

"Still can't believe I memorized Niall Horan's birthday just to get to your phone" 

I blinked at him and started rapping with the song. I loved make a toast. Music taste is probably one of the things that made my and Chris's bond strong. Don't get me wrong I love Nick as much as I do Chris, but he just always gets me and we were best friends since day one. The funny thing is that me and Matt did not really liked each other at first. 

The ride home made my mood better. We sang and laugh, I wasn't tired of my life that much anymore. I took my shoes off while holding all of my stuff. Matt was on the couch watching something while we made our way up the stairs. 

"Hi baby... How was it?" He asked as soon as he saw me.

"Crap, I am going to call Laura to take me back" I laughed and put my stuff on the table and went to wash my hands in the kitchen sink. I then walked up to Matt and just threw myself next to him to cuddle his side. 

He kissed my forehead and started to rub my back. 

"I am going to take a nice nap, you kids have fun but not too much" Chris waved at us and went back down the stairs to his room. 

Matt rolled his eyes and kissed my head again. 

"How about we do something nice together? Nick is going to come home with Madi soon, I think, and that means laud. We could go to that beach you like and just get food and watch the sunset later" He asked.

All I was thinking about was his cold hand on my back and how much I just loved that man. He knew exactly what I needed.

"Yes, please. I just need to change. I wore a bra man, can you believe this?" I sit back up. 

He laughed at me and shook his head. 

"Go then," He said patting my thigh. 

I went to put my new fresh love set in Matt's bedroom, used the bathroom and when I was ready we went out.

"Wow, so it's your car now, huh?" Matt started to change the mirrors and seat but he also raised his eyebrows looking at my stuff next to the shift gear. 

"Baby it's only essentials to drive, okay?" I smiled and got comfortable in the passenger seat. 

We drove to get food and dessert. The weather was perfect to just spend an entire afternoon on the beach. Boys did not have any work plans today so I knew Matt was all mine for the rest of the day.

We sat on the beach, had our food, and just talked or cuddled in comfortable silence. That's what I mostly love about spending time with Matt. We could just sit the whole day without a word and be alright with it, but also we could talk for hours and we would always have something to talk about.

"I love you Matty, thanks for taking me to the beach. This new project sucks but I know it's going to be better after that. I really needed just you today" 

I kissed his sweet lips. He tasted like the cherry Pepsi that we just had. He pulled me into his lap and slid his hands under my hoodie while he kissed me back. 

I rested my forehead on his as I pulled away and smiled. 

"Anything for my girl, I love you kid" He kissed my nose and I just wrapped myself around his body.

"I am not moving, you might as well carry me to your car like this" I said into his neck. 

He laughed at that and hugged me back.

"Or we can just stay here" He lay back down on the blanket. 

"I promised your brother that we are going to watch Criminal Minds with him tho" I said.

"Sometimes I just wish you and Chris weren't the same person y/n..." He joked and looked at his phone, holding it above my head.

"Let's go back after sunset in that case baby"

We did watch the sunset, my favorite part of the day. We came back home and spent time with his brothers as I had promised Chris. 

"Spend the night?" Matt whispered in my ear while the last episode for tonight ended. 

I smiled and nodded. I was off tomorrow and did not want him to drive me home that late anyway.

We said goodnight and went to his room. 

"I will go take a shower" I said and opened his drawer to take a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. 

"Go ahead, I went shopping while you were gone. I did restock your basket under the sink. I hope I did it right" He scratched his neck looking at me.

I had my stuff here, but I usually did the restock. Especially my period stuff under the sink.

"Matt...you did not have to do that, thank you, baby" I said pouting my lips.

"I wanted to, I want you to feel comfortable here. Not only you tho, all our girlfriends that come to our house. It's great that you did the basket and stuff" He smiled and I kissed his cheek.

"You are too sweet Matthew"

I went to the bathroom, when I was done he went to take a shower while I waited in his bed scrolling on TikTok.

When Matt came back from the bathroom I looked at him. He was wearing just his pajama pants. 

"Should I just say what all of the girls in my books would say? Matthew, you are such a tease" I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

"Oh my god, would you stop?" He got into bed laughing at what I said. 

"You love me for that" I put my phone on the nightstand and rested my head on his chest.

"Goodnight Matt" I closed my eyes.

He turned the lights off and tucked us in with the blanket. 

"Goodnight sweet girl" He kissed my head while I was already half asleep after this long day.

The best way to end the day is knowing that I will wake up in his arms the next morning. 

[haveihitanerve]

Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had been holding in a laugh for the past ten minutes, which was dangerous under any circumstances, and downright fatal if it was an explosive, loud and hearty laugh, which this one was. Especially considering that no one else seemed to be as tickled as he was, and if he did laugh, he would be laughing at the Batman. The thing was, that Batman had brought his own coffee mug and thermos to the Watchtower (because apparently their coffee wasn't good enough, or something, as batman hadn't exactly offered an explanation) and both had phrases on them that would be amusing belonging to anyone, and were downright hilarious due to the fact that they belonged to Batman. The thermos said “I’m not saying I’m Batman, I’m just saying you’ll never see me and Batman in the same room together” which, sadly, no one else seemed to have even looked twice at, and his mug, which had a large black bat on it, which said “We’re a Batty little family”. Both items were very much not helping Oliver to win his fight with his mirth, when Batman caught his eye. “Oh shit.” he muttered when the Bat began to move towards him. Well, he was bound to die anyway. “Nice mug.” Oliver greeted the second Batman got close. To his surprise, Batmans lips twitched upward. “Thank you. My children got it for me. I’m surprised you're the first to mention it.” Oliver looked at him in surprise. “Oh my freaking gods.” Batman, the Batman, wanted people to comment on his mug. He was proud of it. Oliver finally released his cackle, and Batmans smile grew marginally in delight. “Oh man that is priceless.” Oliver chuckled when he had finally gotten himself under control. “But hey, kids are like that. I mean, mine got me a shirt with two arrows pointing up, with a bow that was sideways beneath it to make a simile face.” Oliver sketched on his own shirt with his finger to display the image. Batman chuckled lightly. “Thats… quite funny.” “Yeah.” Oliver agreed, thinking back with a smile how often he wore it, and Roy’s delight every time. “My kids,” Batman added, drawing Oliver out of his thoughts. “Got me a tie that says, uh, “Worlds Best Dad In Gotham. Which… o-k i guess..” Oliver stared at him agape before absolutely losing it at the tone with which Batman had quoted his tie. “That is… brilliant.” Oliver wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow.” Oliver smiled with relish. “I love that.” Batman smiled back. “I do too.” “Uh, green arrow? Whats so funny?” Green Lantern called over. “Oh nothing, nothing.” Oliver called back. “Just some uh.. Dad jokes.” Hal made a noise of confusion, but Batman chuckled lightly. “Dad jokes?” Green Lantern asked, utterly befuddled. Batman and Green Arrow grinned at each other.  

Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had a meeting in Gotham today, which was always long and boring, especially since he usually only dealt with the lower members of Wayne Enterprises. Not that he had anything against status, not really, it was only that they were always such a drag, and it was clear they wanted a higher lifestyle. But, to his surprise, when Oliver walked into the meeting room, the CEO of WE was actually present, sitting at the head of the table in deep discussion with a man Oliver vaguely remembered was named something Fox. Lucy? “Ah, Ollie, so good of you to meet with us!” Boomed a voice and Oliver turned in surprise to see Bruce Wayne. “Bruce? Hey man! I didn't know you’d be here!” Oliver grinned in surprised delight, offering the other man a quick hug. Bruce shrugged, sipping some coffee. “I’m just here as a chauffeur. I’m taking Timmy out after this, but I’ll be a part of the meeting if you want some decent conversation.” He winked and Oliver laughed. “Not that my son isn't a good conversationalist.” He added. Oliver waved a hand, moving to his seat and offering the kid a quick smile. Tim glanced over, offering a wave before returning to his heated debate. “Naw I know he is. Wasn't expecting you guys to be here. Glad you are though.” Oliver sighed in relief. Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, taking a seat next to him. “Well I’m glad to see you too Ollie, theres, actually something I want to tell you.” At that, his son finally looked over for more than a second, something gleaming in his eyes. “Oh?” Oliver asked intrigued, leaning forward. That was when he saw it. Tucked just barely beneath the lapel of Bruces suit jacket…. A tie. A tie that said “Worlds Best Dad in Gotham. Which… O-k I guess..” Oliver sat back like electrocuted. Bruce and Tim watched him carefully, and Fox gave a very good impression of looking out the window. “You- uh- you're.” Oliver cleared his throat and Bruce leaned in intently. “Yes?” “Your tie.” Oliver blurted. “Its… nice. My friend has one too.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Does he?” He lifted his mug, which had a large black bat on it, and sipped. Oliver swallowed. “W-why me? Why now?” Bruce shrugged, glancing over at his son who was now also doing a very good job of admiring the ceiling tiles. “Because I trust you. And because I need a good friend.” Oliver smiled weakly. “Well, you already had that in Brucie.” Bruce smiled softly. “I know. But friendship requires trust. And Batman needs all the friends he can get.” Oliver chuckle lightly. “So… Dad jokes was the way to go huh?” Bruce smiled, pleased, leaning back. “Yep. Dad jokes.” Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen grinned at each other. 

[hanniebaeee]

This man

Best friend Jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: maybe a little swearing, kissing

Genre: idiots to lovers, fluff/suggestive MDNI

Summary: You've loved your best friend, Jeonghan, since forever. You're so obvious, but he's an idiot. The question is, are you an idiot too?

You spot Jeonghan as soon as you step into the cafe. This was one of your most favorite cafes, so many good memories here. He was with Joshua (as usual). You and Jeonghan were best friends since primary school, and he found Joshua during his University years. Two best friends from two different times.

You wave hi and take off your coat, hanging it on the back of your chair before sitting down. Jeonghan looked at what you were wearing and smiled. Somehow you two had managed to dress similarly on one too many occasions. Today he wore a pastel green and white chequered shirt with light blue jeans, while you were dressed in a pastel green dress with little white daisies sprinkled on it.

'So, what was so important that I had to get here asap?' You ask.

'Were you busy?' Joshua asked. 'We could have met later.'

'I was working on something with Ver-' You were cut off by Jeonghan who was placing your order all of a sudden, very loudly.

He knew your regular order from here, so he ordered without even asking you. And you just stare at him (a little starstruck every time, but also with a stab of annoyance this time). Communication wasn't one of Jeonghan's strongest points and miscommunication, on the other hand, his natural self. You knew he was mad about something.

'So you were saying?' Joshua said, taking a sip of his coffee.

'Right. I was with VERNON.' You said, emphasising on your friend's name because you knew this made Jeonghan very jealous.

You didn't even know what it was about Vernon that got to Jeonghan so much. Vernon was one of the coolest people you've ever met. You felt lucky to be working with him since he always had the most creative ideas (and best snacks and the bestest cats!).

'Oh right, how's that new project going?' Joshua asked, ignoring Jeonghan's annoyed sighs.

'Really well!' You reply with a smile and you could sense Jeonghan's eyes bore holes into your head.

'What's the matter Jeonghan?' You ask, giving him an irritated look. 'What are you looking at me like that for?!'

'I'm waiting for you to stop gushing over Vernon for a minute' Jeonghan retorted.

'Yah! I wasn't gushing!' You snap, kicking him under the table.

'Oh real mature, Y/N' he grumbled kicking you back. But his shoe landed on your bare calf, making you gasp.

'That's my leg you idiot!' You say, glaring at him.

He looked to the side as you lift your leg from under the table. His expression changed immediately.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he cooed suddenly, bending down to run his hand over the skin. You feel butterflies in your tummy as his fingers touch your skin.

'It's alright.' You said, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

You sit up straight, only to see Joshua giving you a look.

'What?!' I mouthed to him and he just shook his head with a grin.

Jeonghan straightened as well and said 'You obviously enjoy spending time with him more than with me now.'

'Like you enjoy spending time with Joshua more than with me?' You tease back.

'I don't!' Jeonghan whined.

'Yah!' Joshua had a funny frown on his face.

'Stop bullying me now!' Jeonghan said, taking a bite of his cake.

'Ok ok, so what's the 'thing' you had to tell me?' You ask, digging your fork into Jeonghan's cake.

'So we're having a party at ours this weekend to celebrate the release of my first single album!' Joshua said with a big grin. 'It's doing really well, so we thought we should celebrate. Just some close friends.'

'Oh great!' You said with a smile. 'It's all I see every time I open social media!'

Joshua blushed and said, 'You should bring Vernon too.'

'Of course I will.' You said and you could see Jeonghan rolling his eyes at that.

Jeonghan was mad at you all day. He ignored you and backed out of any conversation you were part of. It made you so mad!.

'Whats the matter babe?' Vernon asked.

'Hannie's being a bitch and I don't even know why!' You muttered, taking his cup from him and sipping his drink.

'Go talk to him' Vernon said with a shrug.

'Right, he runs away every time I try.' You said sadly, sitting next to him, and placing you head on his shoulder. He rested his head on yours and said, 'You two are the biggest idiots I know.'

'What? Why?!' You asked sitting up and looking at him.

'Because, Jeonghan is whipped for you. And you are for him. Two idiots.'

'He's my best friend.' You said with a pout.

'So? Can't best friends love each other? Can't they be a couple?' Vernon asked.

'Yah, don't be loud!' You whispered, touching his hand.

'Well?' He asked. 'I know you love him. Not as a best friend, but as something more.'

'I can't risk it, Vernon. He's not just my friend, he's literally my whole life.' You said sadly. 'I would rather be his friend than going and ruining it all for more.'

'Darling, he feels the same way' he said. 'You should see the way he looks at you and the way he's glaring at me right now' Vernon laughed.

'Stop it!' You said, slapping his hand. 'Oh God, help me!'

'Go for it!' Vernon hyped you up. 'Please, so that he would stop giving me those death stares'.

'He does not!' You said, not believing your own words since you knew how he felt about your friendship with Vernon.

'Please turn around' Vernon said, and you did slowly.

Jeonghan had a drink in hand and he leaned against the door to the kitchen. He WAS actually glaring at you both. You have never seen such a look on Jeonghan. He wasn't a hot head. He actually never got that mad - he was more into solving his problems strategically than with his fists.

'You should go.' Vernon said again, nudging you with his elbow.

'I think I should' You agree and stand up. Taking a deep breath, you walk towards Jeonghan. Seeing you, he pushed himself off the door and started walking away. You run, blocking his way.

'Hey!' You said, 'I want to talk.'

'I don't' he said, trying to step away. He was way taller than you, so it wasn't that hard for him to escape.

'Hannie please!', You said in a small voice, head hung. The only voice you knew would get him. You were right because he froze and turned to look at you. Taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, he raised your face up.

'What's wrong?' He asked, his voice laced with worry.

'We have to talk' You said, and he nodded, taking your hand and leading you to his bedroom. He shut the door behind you. Folding his hands against his chest, he said 'Go on'

You squirmed under his gaze. He was just looking and you were falling apart.

'Um' Your voice and vocabulary decided to say goodbye at the very moment and you stood gaping at the gorgeous man in front of you. His beautiful brown eyes set on you and his dark hair falling over his forehead, almost over his eyes. His black round neck T-shirt and light blue jeans looked perfect on him. You thought he was way too beautiful for someone like you.

You felt the soft material of your navy blue dress crumble under your tight grip.

'What's it sweetheart?' He asked softly. 'Since when do you need all this time and formality to tell me anything, hm?

'Since I'm an idiot and a little bit greedy at this point.' You said, blushing.

'What do you mean?' He asked.

You couldn't look at him. You were embarrassed of yourself, and your pathetic attempt to tell this gorgeous human being that you have been in love with him for a good 10 years. You wanted to cry and you wanted him to just understand already. But Hannie's a tease. Even if he knew he wouldn't say anything.

You sigh and said, 'Sorry I wasted your time, Hannie. You should get back to your party.'

He looked way too shocked to even move. And the look on his face scared you to death.

'You've gotta be kidding me!' He said, his eyes wide.

'Whaat?!' You whine.

'You should try not to tease a man like that!' He growled. 'I just want to spank you for all the times you bring it this far and brush me off!'

'Oh woah woah woah!' You say, holding your hands up. 'Me?! I AM THE TEASE NOW?!'

'Of course you are!! Every single time I think that it's about to happen you pull away! You FUCKING pull away and leave me hanging!'

'I've NEVER brushed you off!' You said, your body shaking. 'Why would I ?!'

'Why don't you tell me that?' Jeonghan snapped.

'Why don't you?'

'You first'

'Jeonghan!' You let out a frustrated sigh.

'I won't let you out of this room until you give me an honest answer.' Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

'Oh right, we'll see about that!' You snap and walk towards the door.

He was there first with his bloody long legs. He blocked your way, locked the door and pressed his back to it.

'Move.' You said as seriously as youbcould. 'Now.'

'I'm sorry, can't do that'

'Why Jeonghan, pray tell!' You said, trying to pry him off the door.

'You know why sweetheart' he said, his voice low and menacing.

'I don't! I can't think why, ok?' You lied, even though could see it now. Vernon was right. THIS MAN!

'Oh you know.' jeonghan teased. 'I can see it on your face.'

'I could just kill you right now!' You mutter, taking your hands off him.

'You naughty girl. Brining Vernon here even though you know that it makes me so mad.' He said, taking a step towards you.

'Hannie. Stop.' You said, putting your hands against his chest to hold him back. 'Vernon is my friend. You know that.'

'Really? Just a friend?' Jeonghan asked, his voice anything but innocent.

'Yes' You said.

'Doesn't feel like it'

'Wow, sounds like a you problem!'

He took another step forward, you took one back. The back of your legs hit his bed and you lost balance. You plopped down at the edge of the bed, looking up at him. Your heart raced and the butterflies in your tummy did you no good. He just looked at you and he looked absolutely ravishing.

'Jeonghan, stop looking at me like that!' You whine, covering your warm face with your cold hands.

You hear a chuckle before he kneels down in front of you.

'What's wrong baby?' He teased, his hands on your wrists, pulling your hands off your face. 'Don't hide from me.'

'Oh my God!' You were absolutely melting under his gaze.

He laughed, not his usual gremlin laugh, but a more sweeter one.

'Are you shy?' He asked. 'Really? For me?'

'I won't shy away from slapping you if you don't stop teasing me!' You warn him.

'Go on then.' He said, turning his face a bit, showing you his right cheek. 'I don't think I can ever stop.'

And you shocked yourself by pressing a kiss on his soft cheek. And before you could pull back, you felt his hand at the nape of your neck. And his lips against yours. You think you died for a moment there, before he pulled you back to life.

Biting his lip, he watched you. Then he kissed you again. And again. And again.

'Baby why are you crying?' He asked, his forehead pressed to yours.

You didn't even realize that you were crying until he asked that question. Wiping your face quickly with the back of your hands, you said 'I've wanted to do that for so long, Hannie'

'How long?' He asked, tilting his head.

'Um... 10 years?' You said, shy and embarrassed.

'What?!' That incredulous look came back to his face. 'You kept this from me for 10 years?!'

'I was scared!' You said. 'I didn't want to lose you!'

'Did you ever stop to think that maybe I felt it too? Why do you think I never had a girlfriend? Why did I put you first all the time?'

'I thought you had a secret girlfriend because you used to giggle into your phone all the time after you started uni!' You said with a shrug.

'What?! I don't giggle!' He said, squeezing your thigh.

'That's not the point. The point is that I thought you met someone at uni. Until I knew that it was just Joshua. Then I thought you were with Joshua!'

'You DID NOT!' he said, turning beet red.

'I'm sorry, Hannie. I knew that when you brought him home' I said giving him a sheepish smile. 'He wouldn't stop flirting with me, haha'

'Mhm' he said with a smile. 'And?'

'And?'

'You wanted to say something?' He asked, his hand still on your thigh.

'Maybe' you muttered. 'Since you're being a big baby and you won't say it first.'

He didn't say anything, just grinned.

'I love you, Hannie. I'm so in love with you.' You said, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy. 'So so much.'

'Yeah?' He asked, cupping your face with his hands. 'That's good, because I'm in love with you too.'

You squeal like a little girl and throw your arms around him, giggling and kissing his cheek.

'Say it again' you say, holding him close.

'I love you. I love you. I love you.' He said, hugging you tight. He kissed you again, long and deep. His lips are wet and warm on yours. This is simply the bestest kiss ever. Then with one arm around you, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

'Shua's looking for us' he said, putting it back.

'Come on, let's get back to the party. Poor Shua.' You said, standing up.

On your way to the door, you stopped still as you felt his hand land a slap on your butt. Face red and voice shaky, you asked, 'What was that for?!'

'For cuddling up to Vernon before' Jeonghan replied simply.

'I thought we were over that'

'You deserve it for teasing me all day!'

'Says the tease!' You retort and move back quickly as he took big steps towards you, caging you between his body and the door, his arms on either side of you. You grin even though this made your legs go all wobbly.

'You are so hot, oh my god!' You said, hands covering your face again.

He laughed and said 'I'm trying to look intimidating here!'

'Ok, hot and intimidating' You said, as he pulled your hands off your face. Again.

He just leaned forward and delivered another mind blowing kiss. 'And, just so you know, you're hot as fuck too'

You laughed and said, 'I love you Hannie'

'I love more, baby.' he said with a wink.

Joshua and Vernon grinned like idiots as they saw you, but were kind enough to keep the teasing for later. But you knew that you wouldn't hear the end of it for a very long time.

When Jeonghan drove you back home, you asked him if he wanted to go up to your apartment with you.

'And do what?' He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

'Shut up!' You said, turning away to hide your burning cheeks.

He laughed, parking the car and coming up with you. Your roommate was spending the weekend with her boyfriend so you had the house to yourself. Keeping your shoes on the rack near the door, you walked in, for the first time as a couple.

Jeonghan followed you into your bedroom and climbed into your bed. He patted the spot next to him and held out his hand for you. Heart fluttering and legs shaking, you were way too nervous.

Though you have had way too many naughty dreams and fantasies about Jeonghan, seeing him on your bed was a bit scary. You've slept on the same bed so many times over the years, but things are so different and easy when you're just friends.

You put your hand in his, letting him pull you into his arms. Placing your head in his chest and listening to his heartbeats felt surreal. He may have noticed how tense your body was because he kissed your forehead and said 'We don't have to do anything today, ok? I just want to cuddle with you and kiss you for now. We can take it slow.'

'Thank you Hannie' You said, feeling relieved.

You place a soft kiss on his chest. Jeonghan smiled and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. Flush against his toned body, you were trembling a bit.

'Hannie?'

'Yeah?'

'I've only ever dreamed of this...I can't believe you're really here, like this-' You didn't even know what you were saying.

'Yeah? What other dreams do you have? We'll make them all true!' Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

'Don't be so cute!' You said, burying your face in his chest again.

His breathy laughs were the best. Everything about him was just more beautiful now. He's your boyfriend after all.

a/n: I'm in love with these cute dividers by @saradika ❤