#but... but this support and acceptance from her... it matters to me a lot and makes a huge difference.

[thrashkink-coven]

I get the thing of wanting to be as harmless and uncontroversial as possible in your craft. I understand white witches trying their best not to encroach on closed practices or cultural appropriation. I understand wanting to cancel problematic occultists and generally push the witchy community away from its history with white supremacy and racism. I get it, I really do.

and I say this with love and try to come across as gently as possible.

Some of you, though your intentions may be pure, don’t seem to recognize the difference between genuine caution and concern and blatant white saviourtism. I promise you that people of color don’t need white witches to speak for them. I promise you that it is not your responsibility to be the saviour that enforces what is and isn’t problematic, especially when you yourself are so clueless about the issue at hand.

People who don’t know even the first thing about Judaism shouldn’t be trying to herd all of their white friends away from Lilith or dictate why you shouldn’t use magick with a k. It’s frustrating because the original message gets completely lost every single time.

Jew witches will say “hey guys maybe don’t work with Lilith if you don’t understand her origins because she’s not just a girl boss mother of demons but also has a lot of history in our culture as an extremely violent and chaotic energy that actively victimizes women and children”

But all that tumblr heard was “Lilith is associated with Judaism and that means she’s a religious figure and can’t be worked with by non-jews” without having even the slightest clue what her role in Judaism was and why people advise caution. Saying that Lilith is a religious figure to Judaism tells me that you’ve never even met a Jewish person in real life.

People will say “hey Crowley was actually a piece of shit and shouldn’t be idolized as a wise practitioner when he was literally just an extremely racist heroine addict who tricked a lot of women into having sex with him for rituals”

But all that tumblr hears is “Crowley bad. Anything associated with Crowley also bad. If you do anything that was associated with Crowley you are also bad.”

Indigenous witches will say “Hey white sage is an extremely sacred herb that is being heinously over harvested by corporations selling the witchcraft equivalent of fast fashion and it’s causing severe harm to indigenous businesses and communities, please stop supporting them”

but all that tumblr heard was “White sage shouldn’t be harvested. If you get white sage from anywhere, even indigenous people themselves, you are racist.”

and in retaliation to that super hard stance you have witches who have decided they don’t care about respecting closed practices in general and purposely buy from non indigenous sources out of spite

“I don’t know enough about this topic to have an intelligent stance on it” is ALSO a perfectly acceptable position. You don’t have to be opinionated about things you don’t understand. You’re more than welcome to just avoid the things you know would make you uncomfortable to participate in without pushing blatant misinformation.

Most occult spaces have some sort of historical tie to icky stuff like racism, misogyny, ablism, etc. You’re not a bad person for recognizing that and wanting to stay away from them. I’m happy you care.

But you are not an authority on things you’re uneducated about. When you pretend to be you only muddy the words of the people you’re supposed to be helping.

Saying shit like “using magick with a k is just as antisemitic as using a swastika” completely waters down what real antisemitism is, and makes the matter less serious than it actually is.

Saying “working with Lilith is just as antisemitic as working with the Tetragrammaton” is just a complete slap in the face to practicing jews, and you don’t know why because you don’t understand Judaism or the people who created it. You can’t understand it because you’re so busy talking over them that you never took the opportunity to listen.

Before you make the decision to run these mass cancelation events, take a second to consider if you’re doing this because it’s actually important and something you truly understand, or if you’re just doing so to feel morally pure and accepted by your fellow politically correct white peers.

[minettas-ploy]

/

[springrls]

Ughhhhh ever since I woke up from my nap I've been in such a bad mooddddd

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[elysiansparadise]

My experience with some synastry aspects/overlays

🩶His Moon in my 7th house (#1): I still remember it sometimes, that way a smile would appear on my face at his mere presence. I perceived him as eccentric as he was very different from me, but he had a certain charm. He awakened a warm side in me that at the time I did not know how to understand or handle. But what I did know is that I wanted his happiness, whether it was with me or not. We both loved each other very much, I would dare to say that in the purest way that I have ever loved someone and although there were ups and downs and it did not turn out as planned, I will always wish him the best and I will remember him with warmth in my chest.

🩶Her Moon in my 7th house (#2): She was a sweetheart, she had a light charm and charisma that enchanted many people no matter how different they were from her. Her company made me feel comfortable and she was someone who spoke about her emotions in a balanced and even tender way. I felt very protective of her and that she felt okay in every way, I even remember putting off some tasks to spend time with her because I genuinely appreciated spending time with her. One of my closest bestfriends.

🩶Her stellium (Sun, Mars, Mercury & Venus) in my 12th house: I feel very lucky to have met her in this life, she became my safe place and someone I know I can count on regardless of distance or other factors. I think we reflect a lot on a subconscious level and I see in her aspects of my personality [obviously linked to the signs in which her stellium is]. She makes me feel seen and accepted, I know she will never judge me and she has shown me with actions that I can rely on her. I feel like we connect a lot and can understand each other deeply. She is without a doubt one of my best friends and knows that whenever she needs me I can offer her comfort, advice or support. 

🩶His Venus in my 12th house: It was a bit tense, mostly because he has very tense aspects in his chart. Throughout this connection I knew that he loved me the way he knew how to love, although that did not mean that he loved me well or how I wanted him to love me. The energy of the 12th house makes me understand things, even empathize, but it does not mean that they are justified. It was conjunct to my Rising, and I experienced this seeing how he prioritized me a lot and despite being someone who was not affectionate, he was affectionate with me. However, many times because of this difference in ways of loving, I felt his absence. 

🩶Their Mars in my 3rd house: I have to admit... debating with them [I have experienced this overlay several times] was stimulating and even a bit exciting at times. There was a certain tension between us and I never experienced big arguments with them, everything remained a playful banter. They told me that they were very attracted to the way I spoke, from my voice to mannerisms. They put a lot of emphasis on my knowledge about what I liked and how my voice caught their attention. 

🩶His Jupiter in my 7th house: Husband material. It is the most summarized way of explaining it, but I saw this man as someone I would have liked to marry in the future, beyond feelings (which there were) it was a matter of admiration and looking up at him, his ideals, his way of acting. It felt more like a decision than a whim or impulse to want to be with him.

🩶Her Mars in my 10th house: She was my crush [platonic love?]. I truly adored her very much. The way she carried herself and her strong, reliable and reserved appearance that she portrayed attractive to me. I really like the confidence with which she carries herself and she always behaved very nice and kind to me, becoming protective. She had a tendency to baby me though and being incredibly sweet to me [perhaps her Venus in my 4th house]. A strong attraction and support. [Scorpio + Leo energy]

🩶His Mars conjunct my Moon: He was the first person I liked. I would say that it was a strong attraction since we met, although it was not always easy. We used to clash at times, him being more irascible and me being more lighthearted. What was very present is that we always wanted to be close to each other, we used to spend a lot of time together and could be very possessive of each other [and his Moon in Scorpio + lots of tense aspects didn't help much either]. 

🩶Her Mars square my Mars: There was some tension between us, I think she was much more impulsive than me and reacted defensively. She was very direct with me, with her affection, attraction and even when there were differences or she disagreed, being a positive point. It was very intense and we were definitely very different. She was never aggressive or disrespectful to me, but she had very intense ways of reacting when she got angry with other people and of course, I didn't like that. It should be added that she also had the Moon in Scorpio and afflicted.

🩶Her Saturn trine my Venus: She was always loyal and constant with me. She wasn't very verbal but she gave me gifts and details. Her way of showing affection or pampering me was with things she knew I liked or fulfilling whims I had. She was capable of spending hours searching for the perfect gift for me and more than once offered to help me pay for large expenses that I had to make. Definitely a lot of provider energy.

🩶Her Saturn conjunct my Moon: She is one of my best friends, I always tell her that she helps me know how to better manage my emotional crises, that she gives me comfort and security and she tells me that I give her warmth. I believe that we bring a lot of positivity to each other, there is no judgment between us and we help each other as much as we can. We have been friends for several years now and sometimes we forget that there is an age gap between us. I have always thought that she is rather practical and straight to the point, and that is one of the reasons why I feel safe with her. I have always wanted to provide her with emotional support and comfort. 

🩶His Jupiter conjunct my Rising: One of the funny things with him is that he usually does things behind my back to help me, but when we are together we basically tease/argue with each other, most likely because this conjunction happens while his Jupiter falls in my 12th house. He has done a lot of good things for me, from opportunities for professional internships to even inviting me out to hang out or taking me to my favorite places. We always make each other laugh, especially me whenever I’m in the mood. And I've noticed that no matter how tense we are, we can forget a little about it when we chat or spend time together.

🩶Her Moon conjunct my Sun: She has always been very protective of me, always looking out for my well-being when we are together and making sure I am comfortable and happy. We have been friends for more than 10 years and she lets me talk about my emotions when I feel low, or even if what I say is something trivial. She is very gentle with me and likes to 'nurture' my independence and self-expression. There is a strong emotional bond between us, even from the first moment. We used to be inseparable when we lived nearby and even after I moved away, I usually go visit her.

🩶His Moon conjunct my Uranus: He's a good friend of mine, we tend to have a lot of fun, we've been on some crazy adventures together and we've even traveled together [we even missed a flight once]. We are quite different, while he is more given to creating connections everywhere, I am rather independent and even a bit of a hermit sometimes. Despite that, we love each other a lot and provide emotional support if necessary. I have noticed that we compensate each other, if one is being more emotional, the other behaves rationally [even blurting out truths in a very cold manner]. We can go days without speaking [up to weeks] and when we see each other we catch up and talk as if nothing happened.

🩶His Mars opposite my Saturn: I feel that on many occasions he tries to behave when he is with me, many times I am even the one who has a cool head when he explodes or when he is being irascible. When we have to work together we are a great team, we even organize ourselves quite well and we have similar ethics. However, the problem comes when we hang out for a long time, since I perceive him as someone who does not want to change and someone who is generally difficult to live with. His impulsive nature and the way he behaves makes me put some distance between us, even if we can keep things cordial.

[its-avalon-08]

Hi! Could you please write something where reader and Lando have been together for a while and the hate never got to her until she saw a comment about her using Lando’s money and Lando never had a problem with it. But reader starts using her own money but she doesn’t have a lot of it and one day she misses a call from the bank and Lando answers it and finds out her funds are low and he put it together. Happy needing though where Lando reassures her that he loves her using his money.

what's mine is yours (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - gold digger tweets, money problems, tears, fluff

Lando and Y/N had always had an easygoing relationship. From the moment they met, things just clicked. They’d been inseparable for years, growing through the ups and downs of the racing world together. She was his anchor, and he was her biggest supporter. Despite the scrutiny from the public eye, their relationship was grounded in mutual respect and understanding. Lando always made sure she felt cherished, often indulging her with gifts, fancy dinners, and trips—but none of that ever really mattered to Y/N. She loved Lando, not his lifestyle.

Still, there was always an undercurrent of judgment from certain corners of social media, as there often is for the partners of famous athletes. Y/N had long trained herself to tune out the negative noise. But today was different.

Sitting on the couch while Lando was out at a sponsorship event, she scrolled through Twitter. It had been a typical day, filled with photos of the two of them that fans had posted, some sweet comments and, as usual, some not-so-sweet ones. She should’ve stopped scrolling when she saw a thread discussing her. But instead, her eyes caught on one tweet.

@SpeedyPaddock: "Does Y/N ever spend a single dollar of her own? I swear all I see is Lando footing the bill. She’s just another gold digger… probably why Lando doesn’t mind either, right? He’s got the money to throw around."

Her heart sank. Y/N stared at the screen, feeling her chest tighten. She had never thought of it that way—sure, Lando loved spoiling her, and she’d accepted his generosity because it made him happy. But was she really taking advantage of him?

She shook her head, trying to clear the heaviness settling in her chest. No, Lando would never think that. Yet, the words echoed in her mind, twisting her perception. What if other people thought the same thing? What if they saw her as nothing more than someone who used Lando’s wealth to get by?

I can't do this anymore, she decided. She wasn’t going to be seen that way. From now on, she'd stop using any of Lando’s money. She wouldn’t tell him—it wasn’t his fault, and she didn’t want to burden him with her insecurities.

Y/N sighed, putting her phone away, her mind already racing with ways to distance herself from his lavish spending. This wasn't about them, it was about her.

time skip

The shift was subtle at first. Y/N stopped suggesting they go out to fancy dinners or buy anything extravagant. She even started paying for smaller things—coffee, groceries, or an Uber here and there. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to their favorite restaurants or enjoy the life they’d built together, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the assumptions people were making online. Every time Lando offered to cover something, she’d smile and politely insist on taking care of it herself.

Lando, oblivious to what was going on in her head, didn’t think much of it at first. He’d tease her with a grin, “Trying to outdo me, are you?” And she’d laugh it off, hiding the unease in her heart.

But as the weeks passed, the strain began to show. Y/N wasn’t rich—not by Lando’s standards, not by any stretch. Her savings weren’t endless, and the more she tried to maintain this facade of independence, the more she found herself running low on funds. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up, but the thought of being seen as a "gold digger" kept pushing her forward.

One afternoon, as Lando was lounging on the couch, Y/N’s phone rang. She was out picking up some last-minute groceries, and without thinking, Lando picked it up when he saw the caller ID—her bank.

"Hello, this is Lando. I’m answering for Y/N."

The bank representative, not knowing any different, politely responded, "Hello, sir. We were just calling to inform Ms. Y/L/N that her account balance is quite low, and we’ve noticed a few declined transactions recently. We recommend a transfer or deposit soon to avoid further issues."

Lando’s face dropped, confusion swirling through his mind. "Uh, okay. I’ll let her know. Thank you." He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, piecing things together.

When Y/N returned home, she found Lando sitting on the edge of the couch, her phone in his hand, a serious expression on his face.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asked, setting the groceries down.

He looked up, his blue eyes soft but concerned. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Y/N froze. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Tell you what?"

"The bank called. They said your account’s low… and that there have been some declined transactions. Y/N, why are you doing this?" His voice was gentle but filled with worry.

Her heart sank. "Lando, I—" She trailed off, not sure how to explain. The tweet flashed in her mind again, and she could feel the walls closing in.

Lando stood up and walked over to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Talk to me. Please."

She exhaled slowly, her voice trembling. "I saw a comment a few weeks ago… someone said I was just using your money. That I’m a gold digger and that you don’t care because you can afford it. It got to me, Lando. I didn’t want people to think that I’m only with you for your money. So, I started using my own… but I didn’t realize how fast it would run out."

Lando’s expression softened even more, his brow furrowing as he pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Y/N…"

She buried her face into his chest, feeling the weight of her decision catch up with her. "I didn’t want to tell you because it wasn’t your fault. It’s just stupid people online. But I didn’t want to be seen that way."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. "Listen to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re with me because you love me, and I love you. It’s never been about money, and it never will be."

"But—" she started, but he cut her off gently.

"No, but. I want to spoil you. I want to take you to nice places, buy you things, and make you happy. That’s what people do when they love each other. It doesn’t mean you’re using me. You’re not a gold digger, Y/N. You’ve never been." He kissed her forehead softly. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness, but from relief. She’d been carrying this burden for so long, and now, hearing Lando say those words, it felt like the weight had been lifted. "I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you."

"I know you, Y/N," he whispered. "You could never do that. I love you, and I love sharing my life with you. That includes my money, okay? We’re a team. Whatever’s mine is yours."

Y/N nodded, tears spilling over as she smiled softly. "I love you too, Lando. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner."

He wiped her tears away with his thumb, smiling back. "Don’t be. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked.

"Promise me you won’t listen to those idiots online. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we have."

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "I promise."

Lando grinned, pulling her into another tight hug. "Good. Now, let’s go out tonight. My treat. And before you say anything, it always will be."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, the tension finally easing between them. "Fine. But I’m picking the place."

"Deal."

[punkshort]

The Holiday in Vermont

Thank you anon for this prompt!

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: A much needed escape after a brutal breakup to Woodstock, Vermont gives you much more than you ever bargained for when you meet Dave York.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), oral f!receiving, unprotected piv sex, one little spank, mentions of infidelity, angst, food and alcohol consumption, heartbreak

WC: 8.1K

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

A/N: inspired by the movie The Holiday - if you're a fan you'll notice some very familiar lines ❤️

"Yes, okay? I slept with her."

The words still echoed loudly inside your head.

"She's in love with me, I'm sorry!"

You couldn't remember storming down the stairs and yelling in your ex-boyfriend's face in the middle of your driveway, but you did remember clocking him square across the jaw. Twice.

He tried to blame you, tried to blame your long working hours. But you refused to accept it. He was the one who encouraged his receptionist's flirty behavior. He was the one who took her to fancy hotels when you were working late. Not you. Him.

However, he had a point. You worked a lot. Probably too much, but you loved what you did. Was it so much to ask for a partner who supported and understood your dreams and goals?

Alright. Maybe you should have planned more date nights or something.

It didn't matter. Things were over. Finished. Kaput. But you couldn't stand the thought of being by yourself during Christmas in your cold, lonely penthouse apartment in Chicago. So with a quick, spur of the moment google search, you found yourself renting an Airbnb in the quaint little town of Woodstock, Vermont.

Known for its idyllic shops and gorgeous winter landscapes, you figured, why not? A week away from the chaos of your job and pain of a failed relationship. Your boss was stunned to hear you wanted to take a vacation, the first since you had started six years ago, but he was quick to approve your time off request knowing full well the company couldn't run without you.

Five days before Christmas, you sat in a sweet little cabin just a short walk from town. You were in the woods, just you and a stack of books you promised yourself to at least try to take a crack at, in front of a cozy fireplace. You must have dozed off because you jolted upright with your heart racing when you heard a key being worked rather roughly at the front door.

"Oh, shit. Oh, fuck," you whispered, tossing the fuzzy blanket off you and racing to the fireplace. With a poker in hand, you swiveled around right as the door swung open.

You heard a man's voice grumbling under his breath and your grip on the poker tightened. When he flicked the lights on, you gave him your best scowl and tried to look as fearsome as possible.

"I've already called the police, I suggest you be on your way," you lied.

But all he did was frown and close the door behind him, leaving the blustery, snowy weather outside where it belonged.

"Who are you?" he asked with a sharpness to his voice. You scoffed, offended.

"Me? I'm renting this place from the owner, Sandy. And who should I tell the cops broke in?"

The man smirked and shrugged off his coat, completely unphased by your weapon.

"I'm Dave. Sandy's brother."

You stumbled backwards as he hurried over to the fireplace to warm his hands. It was then you got a good look at him. Strong, cut jaw. Clean shaven. Dark brown hair with eyes to match, but there was a softness to them you couldn't deny. And when he leaned forward to throw another log onto the fire, you noticed the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his sweater.

"And what are you doing here, 'Dave, Sandy's brother'?"

He chuckled and sat back on his heels to look up at you, the reflection from the fire making his dark eyes sparkle.

"Well, on the rare occasion I find myself having too much fun at the local bar, Sandy lets me spend the night here. My place is a good half hour away and she worries about me driving. You know how sisters are," he said with a small smile. The iciness to his voice was gone as he slowly searched your face. "Want to tell me your name now?"

You wanted to stay rigid but the way he looked at you caused you to fold. You told him your name and explained you were staying through Christmas to get away from... things.

He nodded and leaned back into the couch you had fallen asleep on just a few hours earlier, stretching his arms wide across the back and spreading his legs while gazing up at you.

"So no husband, then?"

You swallowed and kept your eyes locked on his face. Why was he asking?

"No. No husband. Be a little strange to be attached to someone and not be with them during Christmas, don't you think?" you asked with an arched brow.

Dave smirked and let his eyes drop to stare at the fire.

"Imagine so."

Silence stretched on for another minute and you lowered yourself onto the couch.

"So you can't drive?" you asked. Dave pushed air through his lips and shook his head.

"But I can call an uber or something. I didn't know she rented out the place."

You glanced around the small cabin, weighing your options. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already, right?

"Or you could stay," you offered. His eyes snapped up to yours in surprise. "I mean, if you wanted. Since you're already here and all."

"You sure?"

You nodded and pressed your lips together.

"Mhm," you hummed as you looked around. "There's probably a spare pillow somewhere."

Dave's lips curled into a slow smile as he watched you fumble around for a pillow.

"Mind if I ask why you're here spending Christmas alone?"

You froze, scanning your brain for a lie until you realized it didn't really matter if this man knew your story, you would never see him again, anyway.

"I, uh, broke up with someone," you said, finally finding a pillow and thick blanket in a cabinet behind the television. "I wanted to get away from the city to distract myself and... well, so far it's not really working," you admitted with a wry chuckle. You turned to hand him the bedding, fingers brushing against his and sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes locked with Dave and you felt your heart flutter before you forced yourself to take a breath and snap out of it.

"Sorry to hear that," Dave said softly. Then the corner of his mouth twitched when he added, "Maybe I could help distract you?"

"Excuse me?" you snapped, crossing your arms. Dave set the bedding down next to him and waved his hands in surrender.

"Sorry. Not appropriate."

"No, it wasn't."

"Sorry," he said again. You swallowed tightly, anger and excitement battling it out inside you. Part of you wanted to kick him out in the snow and book the first flight out of there. But another much louder part of you wanted to consider his offer. What better way to move on from your ex than to hook up with an admittedly very attractive man who you would never see again?

It's not something you'd ever done before, but did that make it so wrong? Could you not just enjoy yourself for one night?

Dave had stood to spread out his blanket across the couch, ignoring your internal conflict behind him. Once he had everything set, he finally turned to look at you.

"Well... good night."

Your heart was already racing in your chest from your decision made seconds prior, but when he stepped forward to give you a peck on the cheek, an action no doubt fueled by the alcohol in his veins, your blood pumped even faster. At the last second, you turned your head and captured his lips with yours.

The kiss was a bit stiff. Both of you paused in surprise but lingered a few moments before he pulled away and looked down at you curiously.

"I thought-"

"I changed my mind," you said before grabbing his thick sweater in your fist and pulling him down for another kiss. That one was less than polite. His hands flew up to cup your face while his tongue pried open your mouth and licked past your teeth. You knew your bedroom was somewhere behind you, but Dave knew the layout of the cabin much better. He began to walk you backwards while your hands pawed desperately at his shoulders, and only once you both collapsed into bed did you even break away for air.

"I never do this," you panted while tearing off your shirt. Dave was working on his belt, ripping open the leather in a frenzy.

"That's okay," he responded while kicking off his pants.

"It's just - I caught my ex cheating on me with his receptionist," you continued, clothes falling off you one by one. "And the thought of hooking up with a guy I'll never see again is weirdly turning me on right now."

Dave laughed and tugged his sweater over his head, revealing his strong chest and thick arms.

"He sounds like an asshole."

"He is," you breathed right before Dave crawled on top of you for another deep kiss. You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping a little when you felt his already hard cock press between your bodies.

"Relax," he whispered, then gave you one more quick kiss before dragging his mouth down your throat. His hands greedily squeezed at your hips and his tongue darted out to lick and bite gently at your breasts as he continued his way down, not stopping until his shoulders were wedged between your thighs and his mouth was hovering over your glistening cunt.

Dave didn't waste any time teasing you. He buried his face between your legs, lapping up your seam a few times before prodding further. His tongue swirled at your entrance with a muffled groan while you squirmed and gasped in his hold. You tried to subconsciously inch away, body already too sensitive, but his arms pinned down each of your legs, holding you flat and open so he could eat at you freely.

Curses left your lips in soft whimpers as he pushed you higher and higher with his mouth. Your fingers grabbed weakly at his disheveled hair, drawing his eyes open. He was transfixed when he watched you, chest heaving and head twisting this way and that as you struggled to find your high.

Either he wasn't the kind of guy that liked to tease women or he was too eager to fuck you because his lips latched around your clit, sending your back arching off the mattress with a broken cry. With just a few flicks of his tongue, he sent you hurtling over the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as your orgasm rolled through you, hips rocking up to meet his mouth until your legs grew shaky and your heart felt like it might beat right out of your chest.

"Oh, fuck - oh, my god," you gasped, dragging in huge gulps of air while Dave peppered kisses over your hips and up your stomach until he was pressing his body against yours.

"Need a minute?" he asked with a cocky lilt to his voice. His lips tugged into a smile against your throat and you had a feeling he noticed the tremor in your hands as they raked through his hair.

"No, I'm fine," you replied defiantly. Dave propped himself up on his forearms, smirking down at you with his lips still wet from your climax.

"Yeah? You think you're ready to take me, baby?"

His knee nudged yours aside, opening your legs even wider so he could reach down and fist his cock. You nodded but he caught the way your breath hitched when he dragged just the tip through your folds.

"Shit," you whispered, eyes already fluttered closed.

"Hey," he said with a sharp little bite to your chin. Your eyelids popped open, slightly annoyed. "Keep 'em open. Eyes on me."

"You're bossy in bed," you told him. He just chuckled and lined himself up.

"I just know what I like."

You were about to say something back, probably something snippy to try and knock his arrogance down a peg, but at that very same moment he pushed himself inside you, every thick, hard inch in one go, and whatever words you had queued up died in your throat.

Now you understood why he wanted you to look at him. He wanted to see the way your eyes changed when he entered you. He wanted to see that initial shock followed by that rush of pleasure. He wanted to see your eyes soften when you grew used to his girth and fill with need when he took too long to move. You knew all of this because it was exactly what you saw reflected in his own eyes as he stared down at you.

"Dave," you whispered with your eyebrows still pinched together. He was so fucking thick that the stretch stung a little, but in the best way possible. "Dave... fuck me. Please fu-"

You gasped and threw your head back into your pillow when he dragged himself out a few inches just so he could slam back into you.

"Oh, god, yes!" you cried out, his hips snapping against you faster. He kept one hand tangled in your hair and the other firmly planted on your hip. Each time he pounded into you, he yanked your hips upwards, driving himself as deep as possible while you fought for breath because every devastating stroke punched the air straight from your lungs.

You had never been with a man like Dave before. He had swagger but he had the goods to back it up. He was rough with the way he fucked you, but so soft when his mouth connected with yours, muffling your cries and his grunts.

His hips suddenly slowed and your eyes popped open in surprise. Your lips were still locked with his but he was fucking you slower now and then you realized he was matching pace with the way he was kissing you. Soft and deep and with purpose. You closed your eyes and felt a sigh shake loose in your chest, then your arms wrapped around his neck and you melted into his embrace. You weren't sure what caused the sudden change but it felt good. It was sweet and intimate and lo-

No. No, this was not why you came all the way to Vermont. You refused to fall for another man who would end up breaking your heart. You told Dave you just wanted a one-night stand, but the way he was pressing his body against yours and the way his tongue was mapping your mouth like he was trying to commit you to memory had you pulling away. You gave his chest a hard shove and his eyes fluttered open in confusion.

"What are you-"

"Move," you said, pushing him once again. He frowned but did as you asked, leaning back to give you space so you could pull yourself up onto your elbows. When you squirmed away, his cock slipped out of you and you swore you heard him whimper, but you pushed it from your mind.

"Did I do something?" he asked, but then you flipped onto your hands and knees and looked at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

"Want you to fuck me like this," you said, wiggling your ass in the air. His eyes darkened and his hands greedily found your waist, and all traces of that softness he had just shown you vanished. You sighed and rested the side of your head on the bed with your arms stretched out above you while you waited.

"Such a pretty sight, baby," he murmured before cracking the palm of his hand across one cheek. You gasped and jumped forward but he quickly dragged you back, impaling you on his cock once again.

Just as you had hoped, Dave began to fuck you harder. His fingers dug into your hips, pushing and pulling you in rhythm with his thrusts. Every stroke was so deep and powerful that it had tears burning the backs of your eyes. It was absolutely perfect. Your mind was blissfully blank. Every thought and memory and worry from the past week flew out of your brain while Dave fucked you like it was his last day on earth.

As if he could read your mind, he said, "This what you needed, isn't it? Needed someone to fuck you properly for once?"

Tears leaked out of your eyes and soaked into the bedding.

"Yes," you gasped. "So good - you feel so fucking good -"

"Did he used to fuck you like this?"

For the life of you, you couldn't figure out what he was talking about. Not when his cock kept splitting you open like it was. Your legs were getting shaky and you felt that crest beginning to rapidly rise with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass.

"W-who?"

Dave chuckled and fell forward. His palms were pressed flat on either side of your head and you wailed when somehow the shift had forced his cock even deeper inside you.

"Your ex, baby. What was his name?"

You sobbed and shook your head, hands grabbing to push against the headboard he was quickly fucking you into.

"Don't remember his name?" Dave panted in your ear. "Ouch. Poor bastard. Bet you know my name, though, don't you?"

"Yes!" you screamed out when two of his fingers reached underneath and began to press fast circles against your clit. "Dave! Dave! D - ah, fuck! - I -"

It hit you all at once. Tears streamed down your face when you came, gushing all around his cock as he continued to pummel into you. He was saying something, you were sure of it, but you couldn't hear a word. The ringing in your ears was too loud. Your muscles were jumping and spasming with every wave of your orgasm, pussy squeezing and fluttering around his shaft and pulling his own release to the surface with you.

Right when you were beginning to regain your senses, you heard him groan your name repeatedly. He grabbed at your hip again, abandoning your clit when he sensed it was too much, and yanked you back so your ass was flush against him as he spilled his seed inside of you. Every burst had him softly groaning and pulling until he exhaled shakily and collapsed, slipping out of you and knocking you off your knees to lay flat on the bed with him.

"How's that for a distraction?" he murmured. You grinned and pushed the hair away from your face.

"Not bad."

Dave huffed and rolled onto his side, facing you.

"You couldn't remember your ex's damn name. I think it was a little better than that." He reached out to gently caress your cheek and you felt that softness creeping back up again, but that time you couldn't fight it. You were too exhausted, so you closed your eyes and gave in.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you would remind him it was a one time thing and that you were not interested in anything else. But for that one night, you let him pull you close with his bare chest pressed against your back and soundly fell asleep wrapped in his strong arms.

The next morning you had dragged yourself out of bed, fighting against every cell in your body that begged you to remain warm and cozy under the covers next to Dave. As tempting as it was to examine him while he slept so peacefully, you knew yourself. If you weren't careful, you would end up developing feelings for him and you certainly couldn't afford to be put in a position where you would be disappointed by yet another man.

That was why you found yourself an hour later fiddling with the coffee maker and cursing under your breath when the damn thing wouldn't turn on.

"Morning," his deep voice rumbled from the doorway. You whipped around and gave him a polite smile. He was wearing the same clothes as the night before but his hair was still a little unkept and his gaze was drifting appreciatively over your frame, making your smile widen against your will.

"Morning. I was trying to make you some coffee but this stupid thing-"

"-needs to be plugged in," he finished for you with a smirk. You furrowed your brow and twisted back around to examine the machine when suddenly he had sidled up behind you. "Not much of a coffee drinker, I take it?" he asked, stretching an arm around you to plug in the machine and flip the switch. You could feel his exhale on the back of your neck as memories from the night before flooded your mind.

"Uh, no, not really," you admitted while stepping to the side to create a little more distance. You picked up a glass filled with a store bought smoothie, forgoing the freshly made smoothies you were used to buying every morning back in Chicago since the small town of Woodstock didn't afford many options. Dave's face twisted into a look of disgust when he saw you take a sip.

"That looks like lawn clippings in a glass."

"It's not that bad - want to try a little?"

He shook his head and turned to open a cabinet. "I'll wait for the good stuff, but thanks," he said after placing a coffee mug on the counter.

You sat at the small kitchen table, tugging your oversized sweatshirt tighter around your neck as you sipped your smoothie and watched Dave maneuver around the room, completely comfortable and in his element while he dug around for something to eat and fixed his coffee to his liking.

It felt very domestic. Too domestic. So you cleared your throat, deciding you needed to clarify your intentions before you were pulled even further under his spell, but Dave spoke first.

"Are you busy today? I had some errands to run in town. Thought you might wanna tag along. I could show you around, maybe get some lunch-"

He had turned around with his mug clutched in his hands when you cut him off.

"Uh, I don't think that's such a good idea," you said. "I'm not really looking for anything more than, you know... what we did-"

"Just using me for a quick fuck?" he asked, but when your eyes snapped up to his in surprise, you could tell he was teasing you.

"Well..."

Dave chuckled and sat down across from you.

"Don't worry, I'm not looking for anything serious, either," he assured you. You watched his tongue dart out to lick his lip, catching a drop of coffee that hung there, and your thighs squeezed together.

"Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way."

"So, you wanna come to town with me or what? I gotta pick up my car, I can drop you off after."

You blinked and shifted in your chair. Dave watched your gaze flicker uncomfortably out the window and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to fall in love with you over a few errands," he said, tone flat. "Just thought you'd want to check out the town."

"Yeah, okay, you're right," you relented. There was no harm in killing a little time with him, right? You both were on the same page and you didn't even have a chance to explore the town yet on your own.

"Great," he said with a grin, then tipped his head back and downed the rest of his coffee. Your eyes locked onto his throat and immediately noticed the marks you had left the night before. You stood quickly and told him you were going to get ready, telling yourself the same thing over and over.

He's just a rebound, it doesn't mean anything.

Woodstock, Vermont was absolutely adorable. You could see why so many people flocked there during the holidays. Everywhere you looked you saw something straight out of a Nancy Meyers movie. Wreathes, trees, twinkle lights, and garlands covered every single house and shop along the Main Street of town. There was a dusting of snow that lingered from the night before, adding to the beauty around you. There were even covered bridges draped in garland and lights. Had you ever even seen a covered bridge in real life before? Probably not.

The further you walked into town, the more you became convinced it was a literal Christmas wonderland.

"Is this place serious? A horse drawn carriage?" you exclaimed when a wagon pulled by a massive brown and white horse with blinders on trotted on by, kicking up snow with it's hooves.

"Yeah, they do Christmas big around here," Dave chuckled.

You readjusted your scarf and wrapped your arms around yourself as you continued to walk with Dave up the sidewalk. Everyone you passed was friendly, giving you both warm smiles and murmurs of good morning. You were beginning to understand why people preferred to live in small towns. Everything moved slower and afforded you the chance to simply take a breath and enjoy the little things.

"My car's just up the street. The bar is right on the corner," Dave pointed with a gloved hand. "But you mind if we stop a couple places first? I have a Christmas present I need to pick up."

"Yeah, sure," you shrugged as you followed him into the first shop. A little bell rang above your heads when you stepped inside. As you were tapping the excess snow off your boots, you breathed in deep the scent of cinnamon and looked around. It was a boutique of some kind and looked like it was marketed primarily for women. Blouses, scarves, gloves, hair accessories, purses and makeup adorned each rack and shelf.

"I placed an order last week, just gotta pick it up at the counter," he explained, taking off his gloves and instinctually grabbing for your hand. It took you by surprise and he must have sensed it because a moment later he let your hand drop and cleared his throat.

You shook it off and shoved your hand in your coat pocket, slowly trailing after him. You lingered at a display of sunglasses and hummed softly to the Christmas carols that were playing quietly through the overhead speakers.

Dave greeted the cashier and gave his name for the order, only half listening to him as you tried on different sunglasses a few feet away.

"You got the last one, you have good taste," the older lady behind the counter told him happily as she handed over a pre-wrapped gift. "It looks like-" she glanced at the tag and smiled, "Alice will have a very lovely Christmas."

Alice? You had just assumed Dave was picking up something for Sandy. He wouldn't be taking you around town to shop for another woman, would he?

When he turned around with the bag, you noticed he avoided your eye and you couldn't help but wonder if it was out of shame.

Whatever. You both said you weren't interested in anything serious. But was that because he was already in a serious relationship? The thought hadn't occurred to you until that moment and it left you feeling unsettled.

"You ready?" he asked. You set your sunglasses down and nodded, immediately picking up on the tension radiating from him after the cashier mentioned another woman's name. And even though you were dying from curiosity, you let it go because it didn't matter. He was a rebound.

After walking another block and waiting for Dave after he popped into the post office for a quick moment, you stopped in front of a quaint looking bookshop.

"Do you mind?" you asked, pointing towards the door. Dave looked up and shrugged before stepping forward and holding open the door for you.

The smell of paper, ink, and leather hit you all at once, making you sigh and smile wide.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," you said excitedly over your shoulder. Dave grinned at the way you moved from genre to genre, picking up a book here or there and turning it over in your hands before deciding whether or not to tuck it under your arm to purchase.

"Big reader?" he asked as he watched you flip through the pages of a historical romance.

"Yeah, but I hardly have the time," you confessed. "I have a huge stack back at the cabin but I think I'm an addict, I just can't stop myself from buying more whenever I see a bookshop."

"Addict, huh? Guess there's worse things to be addicted to," he said, setting down his bag so he could look through a book of his own. He read a few paragraphs and snorted as if he wasn't impressed, but out of the corner of your eye you noticed him get drawn in and continued to read the page.

"You like that one?"

His eyes flicked up to you and he straightened his spine.

"Nah. Just caught my attention for a second..."

His eyes dropped back down to the page and you giggled, tilting the cover up so you could see the title.

"I have this book. Back at the cabin. You can have it," you told him before putting your own book back and moving on down the aisle.

"I can't take your book," he protested behind you.

"I already read it, it's fine. Besides, I like to do it. Read a book and hand it off to someone else. Books are meant to be read and enjoyed, not stared at on a shelf for all of eternity," you told him as you made your way to the counter.

"Well, at least let me buy you lunch then," he said as you cashed out three new books. You swiped your card and arched an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to take me on a date?"

"No, never," Dave replied immediately with fake disgust. You laughed and took your receipt from the cashier, offering your thanks before turning and heading back out into the cold.

"Alright, fine. Where should we have our non-date?"

Dave pointed across the street with a grin.

"How about the bar? Pick up my car right after. Two birds, one stone."

"Ah, yes. No further thought required and hyper-focused on efficiency. Exactly what every woman loves to hear from a man," you joked.

Dave laughed and threw his arm around your shoulder before leading you in the direction of the bar.

"You said this isn't a date, baby."

"And yet you just called me baby."

He laughed again and shook his head but offered no further explanation.

The inside of the, presumably, only bar in town was exactly what you would expect. Dark, the scent of stale beer, various sporting events playing on the televisions scattered above the bar itself. But just like the rest of the town, the owners still jazzed the place up with a Christmas tree in the window, garland strung along the shelves of liquor, and the bartenders all wore Santa hats.

There weren't many people when you walked in, but there were a few men bellied up to the bar with beers watching a football game, along with one or two tables dining off to the side.

"Hey, Dave. Back so soon?" a male bartender asked, then did a double take when he saw you. "Oh, you got a date."

"It isn't a date," Dave said. You immediately heard his voice change. It sounded more high pitched. Like he was nervous or jumpy. You looked at him quizzically, as did the other patrons at the bar. An older man with a long beard whistled low and the other two swiveled in their seats to give you both a once over.

"Holy shit, Dave's got a date."

"It's not-"

"Hey, Sammy! Come check this out! Dave brought a girl!" another one called out into the depths of the bar. Dave's face began to turn pink and his hand fell from your shoulders.

"Vinny, cut it out."

"She's pretty, too!" the third man yelled after Vinny.

"Oh, thank you," you said shyly.

"Jesus Christ," Dave muttered beside you before ushering you over to an empty table. But given the layout of the place, you were still only seated a short distance away from the bar itself.

"Tell us, honey. What's a nice girl like you doing with a schlub like him?" the first man with the beard asked with a lopsided grin.

"Shut up, Dick," Dave snapped over his shoulder, the embarrassment making his shoulders slump forward as if he were trying to disappear into the floor.

"Don't call him a dick," you scolded.

"I'm not. That's his name."

"Oh."

"Holy shit! Thought you were yankin' my chain!" a shorter middle aged man exclaimed when he appeared around the corner. He wiped his hands on his apron and approached your table with a shit eating grin. "Hiya, name's Sammy," he said, offering you his hand. You shook it and told him your name. One of his teeth was capped with gold and the twinkle from the Christmas lights made it sparkle.

"Where you been hidin' this one?" Sammy asked Dave. You grinned and crossed your arms on the table to lean forward, reveling in his discomfort.

"She's just staying at Sandy's cabin through Christmas. Thought I would be neighborly and show her around," Dave grumbled while scanning the menu.

"Neighborly? Ain't your place like, half an hour out?"

"Yeah, that's what he said yesterday," you told Sammy with a nod. "We met last night when he made the mistake of breaking into said cabin after having too much fun with you boys."

"I didn't break in, I have a key."

"You spent the night together, huh?" the unnamed man teased from the bar. Dave squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sounds like it, Hank," Sammy called over.

"But it ain't a date," Vinny said, poorly imitating Dave.

"You think we can eat in peace or should I take her to Cheryl's deli?" Dave snapped. The three men at the bar chuckled and finally turned around to give you some privacy.

"Sorry, honey. Just gotta razz the big guy," Sammy told you with a wink.

"Oh, by all means, I'm enjoying myself immensely," you replied, waggling your eyebrows at Dave when his eyes dragged up from the table. He sighed but you caught the smirk he was trying to hide behind his menu.

You each ordered a burger and mercifully, after Sammy dropped off your drinks, you were left with some peace and quiet.

"Come here a lot, then?" you teased over your soda.

"When I'm in town."

"Ah. Does your job require a lot of travel?" It was then you realized you hadn't ever asked him anything about his job. He seemed like a business man with his clean shaven face. Maybe a banker. But what he said next shocked you.

"Yes. I work for the C.I.A."

"What?" you exclaimed quietly. He nodded, unphased. "What do you do?"

"I'm a field agent. I go where the bad guys are. Report back in to D.C. couple times a month. Even make my way to Chicago pretty often, if you believe it. Got a field office there," he told you, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh... wow," you breathed, your mind racing a mile a minute. "But you're from here?"

"I am," he replied. He was watching you carefully now, his eyes dancing with mischief as you struggled to absorb this new information. You had a million questions and had no idea where to even start, but it didn't matter because his phone ringing on the table cut you off.

Without thinking, your eyes locked onto the screen. Molly.

"Shit," he murmured, standing and picking up his phone. "I gotta take this. Do you mind?"

"No, go right ahead," you said airily, then watched him throw his jacket over his arm and head outside. Your mouth twisted around nervously as you watched him pace back and forth through the window, smiling and laughing while he talked on the phone.

Didn't seem like a work call. So who the hell was Molly?

"Molly... Alice... popular guy," you muttered under your breath.

Didn't matter. It wasn't a date and you were not interested in seeing Dave after the day was over.

Really. You weren't.

"Sorry," he said once he breezed back inside at the exact same time your food arrived.

"Work?" you couldn't help but ask. You kept your eyes on your plate so he wouldn't see your jealousy flaring up unwillingly.

"Uh... no," he said, then quickly changed the subject. "You never told me what you do for work?"

It was a sufficient enough distraction. While you ate, you explained your job in advertising. How the long hours, endless meetings, and greasy takeout were all worth it when you pitched a perfect idea to a client and you saw that look on their face. The one where they were thrilled with your work that would then have them eagerly signing a contract. Every single one pushed you higher and higher up the corporate ladder. You already had a corner office and a penthouse downtown, but you were always looking for the next big sale. You explained to Dave that the money and promotions didn't mean much anymore. It was the thrill and the payoff that made it so rewarding.

"Uh, sorry," you cringed, "I didn't realize I had been talking for so long." Your plates were empty and Dave had been leaning forward with his hand curled in his drink, hanging on your every word.

"Don't be sorry. Sounds like you really love your job."

"I do, but I never get any time for a life," you admitted sadly. You stared down at your glass, swirling the straw around the mostly melted ice. "This was my first vacation in six years."

Dave's eyes widened in shock. "Six years? And you chose to come... here?"

"What? It's cute here!" you protested with a laugh. "I wanted the full Christmas experience."

He huffed and shook his head. "Well, you came to the right place, I guess. There's a parade tomorrow afternoon with Santa and real reindeer-"

He stopped himself short and cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. "I mean, if you wanted to go. Everyone in town kind of goes."

"Are you asking me out on another non-date?" you teased with a grin, but Dave pressed his lips together and swallowed tightly.

"Uh, no. I can't - I - I'm busy."

"But you just said everyone in town goes," you replied, smile slipping from your face.

He sighed and bit the inside of his cheek.

"This is awkward," he began, and a heavy feeling suddenly filled your chest. "I'm going to the parade but... I'm going with someone else."

"Oh," you said softly. He's a rebound, doesn't mean anything. "That's ... fine."

It wasn't fine. It hurt, and you were doing your best to hide it.

"Listen-"

"Why don't we just get going?" you asked with a tight smile. Dave's eyes softened as he scanned your face, desperately trying to come up with the right thing to say. "Seriously, it's fine. We talked about this, remember?" you laughed, then stood up to tug your coat back on. Slowly, Dave rose from his chair to copy you.

The walk back to his car was tense. You had no idea what to say. It shouldn't matter, you made your wishes very clear, yet despite yourself, it still really fucking mattered. And in the short ride back to the cabin, you broke.

"Are you married? Tell me fast," you said completely out of the blue. His mouth fell open in shock but he kept his eyes on the road.

"No. No, I'm not married."

"Girlfriend, then? Or, girlfriends?"

"What?" he hissed, then you tossed your hands up in the air in defeat.

"Alice... Molly... how many are there?" you snapped, voice rising the angrier you got.

Dave took a deep breath and gripped the wheel tightly.

"Alice and Molly are my... daughters," he finally said, voice a little strained. You completely forgot how to breathe. You sat in a stunned silence as he drove the rest of the way down the street and pulled into the driveway of the cabin, and only once he threw the car in park did he look at you.

"Daughters?" you repeated. He nodded.

"They're ten and twelve."

"O-oh, my god," you whispered. "I'm sorry, Jesus Christ why wouldn't you tell me?"

Dave shrugged and looked through the windshield at the empty cabin. When it became apparent he wasn't going to answer, you continued.

"I told you about my ex and about my life - Dave, why wouldn't you just tell me you're divorced? I wouldn't have cared."

"I don't bring women home to them," he said suddenly. You clamped your mouth shut, falling silent and giving him a chance to speak. "And I'm not divorced. I'm... widowed," he added, choking on the last word. His gaze fell down to stare at his lap. "I just try to protect them, you know? I try to keep my private life separate unless I know it's real 'cause they've already been through too much, I can't put them through losing someone else."

He had a point. And you had repeatedly dropped hints throughout the day that you were not interested in anything further with him and nothing you did that afternoon was to be considered a date.

So why was your throat so tight and why did your heart ache so badly in your chest?

Two days passed. Forty-eight hours where you spent pacing around your rented out cabin, trying to distract yourself with books while wrestling with your feelings over Dave.

It was impossible to ignore. You liked him. You couldn't stop thinking about him; the way he held your hand, the private little smiles he reserved just for you, the way he held you close the night you spent together... your thoughts were utterly and completely absorbed with Dave. And you had a feeling he liked you, too. Why else would he have wanted to spend the day with you? You had already fucked. Most men would have hightailed it out of there at first light. And to take you to the bar where he knew his drinking buddies would see you? That must have meant something.

You almost went to the parade just to possibly catch a glimpse of him but you backed out at the last second. Dave said he didn't want to introduce his girls to any women in his life to protect them, and you had to respect that. The last thing you knew you should do was surprise him with his family at the parade. No, that certainly wouldn't have gone over well at all.

Now, it was Christmas Eve. You didn't even have his number to text him Merry Christmas. So, after too many hours overanalyzing every little thing, you came up with a plan: you would go to the bar with the book you had promised him under the guise of wanting to get it to him before you left for Chicago.

As far as plans went, it was a pretty good one. It was feasible and a realistic excuse. But wouldn't he be spending Christmas Eve with his daughters? You shook the thought from your head. You didn't even know where he lived. Short of contacting Sandy and asking, this was your only plan. It had to work. It had to.

After spending over an hour getting ready and trying to quiet your nerves, you slipped on your leather jacket and adjusted your scarf in the mirror to make it look just right. You sighed and snatched the book from the couch, marching to the front door while murmuring under your breath over and over, I can do this.

But when you swung open the door to reveal Dave standing on the other side with his fist poised to knock, all your confidence flew straight out the window.

"Oh," you breathed. He dropped his hand to the side and gave you a small smile.

"Hey."

"Hi," you whispered, still stricken with disbelief that he was standing before you out of nowhere. Then you blinked rapidly a few times and stepped back. "Want to come in?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," he said, slipping off his shoes and coat before his gaze slid down your frame, noticing your outerwear. "You're heading out, I'm sorry. This won't take long."

"No, actually, I'm-"

What? What were you supposed to say? You were very clearly about to walk out the door. You chewed your bottom lip nervously as you shrugged off your scarf and jacket, then rolled your eyes to yourself. Fuck it.

"I was going to try to find you, actually," you blurted out. Dave's eyes shot up to meet yours from his place next to the fire.

"You were?"

You nodded and took a few steps closer. When you remembered you were still holding the book, you held it out for him.

"I promised you this," you said softly. He glanced down at the book and gingerly took it from you. "I was going to see if you were at the bar but then I thought you might be with your girls tonight."

"They're with their grandparents," Dave murmured. He placed the book down gently and looked up at you once again.

"Oh. Right."

A long silence stretched between you, each waiting for the other to speak with only the sound of a crackling fire to fill the air.

You caved first.

"Why did you come here, Dave?"

He exhaled slowly and his shoulders sagged, looking like he had just been through battle.

"I came here because-"

He stopped and took a deep breath. Propping his hands on his hips, he let out a dry laugh and shook his head, like he couldn't believe what he was about to say.

"I know you were very clear about what you wanted," he began. The smile slowly melted as his nerves took over. "And I was, too. But - goddamnit."

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger while you shifted anxiously from foot to foot, hoping and praying he was trying to say what you wanted him to say.

"But you want something more?" you offered timidly. His hand dropped to his side and he nodded sheepishly.

"I can't get you out of my head," he confessed with a pained expression. Your pulse spiked and your fingers fidgeted at your sides. You wanted to run into his arms but you also desperately wanted to hear what he had to say.

"I can't stop thinking about you. I know it's crazy, believe me," Dave scoffed. "And I know you just got out of a relationship. I sure as hell know I have my own baggage. But - I don't know. Is this stupid?"

He looked so adorable, all distraught and standing there in front of your fire wearing dark jeans and an ugly blue sweatshirt with a massive snowflake on it. A smile tugged at your lips.

"Nice sweater."

He blinked and looked down.

"Alice got it for me for Christmas last year."

"Hm. Well, maybe next time I can take her shopping. We've got some nicer stores in Chicago. Find something a little more suited to you," you said playfully. His eyes lit up as he slowly connected the dots. "That is, if you're willing to visit with them sometime," you added quickly.

"Yeah," he breathed, then chuckled before he closed the distance and pulled you in for a deep kiss. You smiled against his lips, feeling elated and confused and still not entirely sure if you were dreaming or not.

"How will this work?" you gasped when he finally pulled away for air. Dave kept his hands firmly planted where they were; cupping your face while gazing down at you in wonder.

"I'm in Chicago a lot," he reminded you before peppering your face with kisses. You giggled and wrapped your arms tighter around his middle. "Maybe you can come here sometimes. It'll work. We'll figure it out."

You wiggled out of his grasp and took his hand. Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you began to slowly walk backwards towards your bedroom, pulling him along with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What are you doing for New Year's?" you asked.

Dave smirked as his free hand found your waist. He slid his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, brushing over the soft skin of your hip when he said, "I have the girls for New Year's."

You tugged him into the bedroom, both of you laughing softly at your enthusiasm. And right before his lips found yours again, you whispered, "Sounds perfect."

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[weird-and-unwell]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[carajilloplz]

bad habit ✮⋆˙ joost klein

SMUT 18+ MDNI

warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, w33d (just a little), lots of teasing omg it's ridiculous, making out, oral!fem receiving because joost is a MUNCH, unprotected p in v, choking kind of?, orgasm denial and overstimulation

i am so sorry

Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder? - You know that's a bad habit right?

Hast du Feuer - Got a lighter?

Inside the venue, the music was ridiculously loud. Your friend had dragged you to a show (Ski Aggu? You had no idea, you were just there to support) and it was a good show and pretty solid music, but not exactly what you would listen to on a daily basis. In the end you ended up enjoying it, loving the antics onstage. Your favorite was that one song, probably his most recognizable because you’d heard it out before, where a tall blond guy wearing a full-on dress shirt with a tie and some funky-looking glasses. 

The show was good, and since your friend had run into some acquaintances, you accepted your fate for the night and gestured to her that you were going out for a smoke. You’d had a few drinks already and just wanted to take a break from that and the overly loud music inside. Stepping outside, you took in the Berlin night cold and cursed yourself for only wearing a thin slip dress, at least covered by the oversized leather jacket with a million pockets. Curiously, somebody stepped out of the bar as well and you recognized him as the blond who was onstage earlier for that one song. 

“Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder?” He spoke, teasingly referring to the box of cigarettes in your hand as you rummaged through your pockets for a lighter.

“Hast du Feuer?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” he says, reaching in his pocket.

You scoffed, shaking your head at yourself. “Is my german actually that bad?”

The man laughs, exposing a set of very charming dimples and a crinkle in his eye hidden by his wide-rim tinted glasses. “No it’s not, you’re just drunk and very clearly not from here.” He reaches out his hand with the lighter in it, and as you go to grab it he snatches it back, smirking and giving you a challenging look. “And what do I get in return?”

You roll your eyes, reaching into your pocket. “Here, you can bum one off me.” The blond nods appreciatively as he grabs a cigarette from you and proceeds to light his own first. He then reaches out with the lighter to yours, holding it up to light your cigarette and you can feel his gaze on you. There was a significant height difference, so you had to crane your neck up quite a bit to speak to him. 

“Thank you…?” you say, prompting him to share his name, playing dumb because you already knew it. 

“Joost” he replies, exhaling smoke and looking down at you, very obviously devouring you with his eyes. Oh so that’s what he’s playing at. “And you are…?”

Immediately your demeanor changed because, hell, he’s quite hot and seemed pretty fun from what you’d seen of him on stage. Might as well. You told him your name and teasingly started inquiring about his stage presence. 

“So you’re friends with Aggu or something right?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a drag and leaning his shoulder against the wall, towering over you. “We’ve been pretty tight since we were openers together once.” You nod understandingly, raising your eyebrows in the most subtly patronizing way to keep teasing him. He catches on. “Why, you listen to him?”

“No, not at all actually. My friends dragged me to this show.” you say, matter-of-factly “Lowkey I thought it would be kind of bad but I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Good,” He’s kind of shocked by your bluntness, but clearly intrigued. “What was your favorite song?”

“The one you sang with him.” You reply, finishing off your cigarette and dropping it to the ground and putting it off with your boot. “I’m going back in, you coming?”

Hurriedly, Joost takes a few last drags and follows you inside, lightly putting his hand on the small of your back as you led the way back to your friends.

“There you are, babe!” your friend replies, dropping the conversation she was having with an acquaintance. She leans closer to you, speaking into your ear over the loud music. “I see why you were gone and I’m not gonna get mad because he’s cute.”

You brushed her off with a wink and a laugh and casually turned back to Joost, “This is Joost, Joost this is my friend Lina that dragged me here.”

She waves, “Big fan.” and turns back to her other conversation. Silently you thanked her to yourself for getting the hint. You turn back to Joost, looking up at him and pointing accusingly.

“You owe me a drink for giving you one of my cigs.” you say, teasingly looking up at him with a smirk. You had to play his game, and at this point you felt like he was catching on too.

“Oh do I?” Joost replies, looking down at you challengingly through half lidded eyes and lightly licking his bottom lip. “You’d still have to owe me one back.”

“I can give you a kiss and we’ll be even.”

He nods, biting his cheek and turning to the bartender and signalling for two more of what he was drinking. Your drinks get served and you stand on your tippy toes, hand on his chest to lean into his ear to say ‘thank you’, and as you pull back he leans in but you quickly dodge him with a playful smirk. He’s very clearly into it and going in for the long run, so he followed you when you grabbed his hand and gestured towards the dancefloor. Even if Aggu’s show was over, the venue was still thumping with music.

Swaying your body rhythmically with the beat, Joost’s hands found themselves comfortably settled on your waist, slowly reaching towards your ass and pulling you closer like that. You kept going though, turning around and staying close to his body, making a point of teasingly moving your hips against him, feeling the light graze of his crotch against you.

This set him off the edge and he kept one of his hands firmly on your hip and reached the other to splay his arm across your shoulders in a light headlock to pull you closer. “And when can we get even?” He says into your ear, his voice an almost growl dripping with desire.

You turn around and look him wantonly in the eyes before reaching to give him a kiss. Joost kisses back firmly, leaning down a little to match you and reaching up his hand to cup your jaw. Immediately in that drunken kiss, you tangle your hand into his hair, complimenting the clashing of teeth and the slow roll of Joost’s tongue in your mouth. You continue to kiss, sloppily grabbing at each other, his hand snaking to grab at your neck and you reaching up to snake your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you closer. He suddenly stopped. 

“Liefde, I have to take you home.” Joost pants, cheeks red and flustered from your passionate kiss. “You’re driving me insane.”

You give him a teasing look. “Look at you, all direct. Don’t seem like the type.”

He scoffs, leaning down towards your ear— “If I weren’t direct I wouldn’t be able to tell you that the though of you makes me hard and I want my head between your legs as soon as possible.”

This comment shuts you up completely, shooting a bolt of electricity down your spine and the mere idea of Joost between your legs makes you squirm pleasurably. You nod, looking up to him still slightly in shock.

“Let’s go to mine, I’m two blocks away and I’ve got weed.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The walk back home for the two of you was excruciatingly long because you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You walked with your hand slipped in the back pocket of Joost’s jeans, and he kept looking down at you as you took another drag from your cigarette. He couldn’t help himself, really, and he pressed you against the nearest wall and gave you a long, deep kiss. You both grabbed at each other as you passionately made out against the wall of some random building on the way to your house. Romantic, huh?

Somehow, you made to your apartment and you discarded your leather jacket at the entrance. This left you in a very thin, almost transparent silk slip that gave Joost a perfect view of the outline of your body behind you, the dress almost translucent because of the light. 

You plopped onto your couch, reaching for the bong on your coffee table as Joost sat next to you. Taking one or two hits, you passed it onto him as you analyzed his face in a different light than where you were before. His eyes were a dashing color blue and his blonde hair was the just right amount of tousled, falling onto his defined face perfectly.

He didn’t finish putting the bong down on your coffee table before you straddled him, looking onto his eyes, almost level to you because of his height, and gave him a profound kiss. His large hands settled on your ass, encouraging you to move your hips backwards and forwards, prompting him to grind back up into you. You continued like this for a while, tongues clashing and hands grabbing at each other, clouded by the substances running through your systems. You worked on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as you continued your kiss, pushing it down and off his body. Joost thought you looked positively angelic as you pulled away, connected still to him with a string of saliva and focusing on rubbing your tangibly wet pussy on his hard crotch. 

Suddenly Joost grabs you from above him and turns you around to lay you on the couch, immediately putting his weight on you and passionately continued your kiss. You felt his bulge on you, hard from all the anticipation and teasing you even more as he continued to slip his tongue in your mouth. He snakes his hand down your side, rreaching down to your thigh and grabbing all over it, clearly enjoying the plush of your soft skin. Slowly, he begins reaching up towards your slip, moving it up slightly so you are more exposed.

“No underwear?” He asks through your kisses, snickering as you whine slightly because of the subjection he’s putting you in. Joost continues, smoothly and teasingly moving his hand on your waist, moving down to your leg, wrapped around him, and reaching up to your ass and giving it a slap. This sends a jolt through your body, extremely turned on but surprised at his harshness. You let out a moan and pulled him even closer. 

“You liked that?” You moan in approval as he begins moving his hand between your thighs and breaks the kiss to start kissing your neck. Joost was literally leaving you speechles with his touches, making you a writhing, whining mess under him. He brings you up towards him to slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders and begins kissing down your chest, making you whine as he starts going lower and lower. Bringing his hand towards your pussy, he slowly traces his fingers up your slick folds until he gets to your clit. He starts to draw small circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, sending shocks through your body and making your back arch, bringing you closer to him. 

As he continues to teasingly and painfully slowly move lower, you tangle your hands in his messy blonde hair. He finally reaches your throbbing pussy, but not even making a single movement that would indicate he would do anything yet with it, focusing on kissing your thighs.

“Fuck Joost, please do something” you moan, arching your back and expecting him to do something, but he just stops his kisses and puts more pressure on your clit. At this rate, you felt like you were coming closer and closer without him doing that much purely from the teasing.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Please eat me out Joost, stop being such a fucking tease.” You reply through another moan, pulling at his hair to get closer.

“Ask nicely and I’ll do it.” He replies, menacingly pressing his thumb even more and looking up at you expectantly. “I want you to beg.”

That alone sent you into a moaning mess, immediately submitting to his touch. “Joost please please eat me out, I need you. Please do something, I can’t stand it.”

He instantly puts his lips to your pussy, lapping at your clit and putting one, two fingers in, hitting just the right spot, making you whimper out when combined with the feeling on your clit. Joost was clearly enjoying himself down there, running his tongue in all the right places and pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rough but pleasurable pace. You felt the familiar build of pressure in you, heightening your sensitivity to every touch and lick. 

“Fuck Joost keep going please” You moan, pulling at his hair and trying to keep your legs from shaking. “I’m gonna come.”

He immediately takes his mouth off of your pussy and climbs back up to your level, leaving you confused  and overstimulated from the lack of touch. He brings his hand up to your neck and grabs you by your jaw to look directly at him.

“You don’t cum until I say so.”

Joost quickly reaches down to unbuckle his belt as he continues kissing you. He was impossibly hard, and you helped him unbutton his jeans and reaching down to palm him through his underwear. He immediately let out a moan of relief at the loss of pressure when he pushed off his jeans, grinding into your hand as you both moaned at the buildup of anticipation. You were still put off from your orgasm and he was ready to shamelessly start fucking you, so you were both clearly on the same page when you reached down to pull down his underwear and release his hard cock. He was huge, you could feel it from making out earlier but seeing it at it’s full length you felt scared but also extremely turned on.

Through moans and clawing at each other, he grabbed his cock and quickly found his way towards your entrance, nudging the head of his cock and rubbing it against your hole.

“Tell me if you can’t take it,” he pants, and you were flattered by the concern but you knew better.

“Just put it in Joost, I need you inside of me.”

This set him off. He instantly started pushing himself inside you with a groan, bottoming out easily because of how wet you are. Joost looked at you to see if you were okay, and continued once you let out a moan and looked up at him. He moved at a painfully slow but strong pace in the beginning as you adjusted to his size, and once you started bringing him closer, he sped up his pace. 

Both of you a mess of moans and groans, you continued to angle yourself towards his pounding thrusts, making him groan more as you started clawing at his back. You felt a mix of pain and pleasure as you felt his length inside you, building up the pressure in your belly once more, this time more intensely. He was bottoming out completely with each thrust now, letting out garbled curses in Dutch and pounding into you as you moaned out. 

“Joost, please can I come.”

“Yes you can schatje, come for me.”

Instantly, you gushed all over his cock, arching your back and seeing stars. You stayed in that state for a minute, relieved from the overstimulation, but he didn’t stop his thrusts. 

“I want you to come again, baby. C’mon get on top” he says, bringing you up as he sat up on the couch. Although you were blissed out from your orgasm, you still couldn’t help but be entranced by his orders, so you gave him a kiss as you straddled him, sinking onto his cock with a whimper. He was the one that continued the pace, hands on your ass, moving your hips back and forth and getting himself off with you. 

You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and one or two hickeys, just like him. He placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around him and made him let out a loud groan as he thrust up against you again. 

“Fuck schatje you feel so good on me.” he groans, continuing to bounce you up and down. Joost loved the way you looked on top of him, a flustered, moaning mess that did everything to reach that second orgasm that he felt was close for you. That pleasurable pressure was growing in you again, and your overstimulation was driving you crazy. You loved the feeling of Joost’s cock inside of you, and in this position it was just hitting the right spot every time.

Joost eventually got sloppier, and started moaning harder, groaning your name hotly in your ear, which combined with his hands on you drove you closer and closer towards your orgasm. 

“Can I come inside you?” he asks, “I’m close liefde, fuck.” You moan at the mere thought.

“Please come inside me Joost I’m so close.” You moan, intensifying your movements for a moment, Joost moving your hips harder, which set you off into a mess of gasps and whimpers, leaving you without air as you felt the flash of your second orgasm. 

Your orgasm set off Joost too, coming at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, and with a deep groan of your name, spilled inside of you. The both of you stayed there for a moment, panting as he leant his head against the back of the couch looking up at you. You looked divine, a blushing, blissed out mess and he was sure he wanted to have that view again. You leant against him, slumping back and putting your head on your shoulder. 

Peppering kisses along your shoulder, he sighed. “Fuck smoking, I don’t know how I’m going to quit you now. ”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a/n: thank you for coming to my tedtalk. i needed to get that out of my system. i'm like speechless at myself because of how horny this is.

[amysteryspot]

A Woman's Worth - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Anthony tries to salvage what's left of his marriage and discovers what his wife is truly worth. (Part one)

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV Show)

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, cheating and lots of angst. English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread.

Word Count: 4648

A/N: After so long, this piece is finally here. Thanks for patiently waiting and thanks @cevansgoodgirl for the help.

There is a mix of a scene with Laurie and Amy in Little Women and another one with Benedict and Tessa (the model/painter in 02x05), just so you know.

He remembers the first time he saw her—really saw her.

The (Y/L/N)s were guests in Aubrey House, and (Y/N) was in the balcony with Benedict while both their mothers and most of their siblings were in the lawn.

Anthony is not even sure what drew his attention when he was passing by, he did not have a habit of eavesdropping, but he got himself held back when his brother commented on (Y/N)’s painting.

"I declare that's rather good." Benedict said making (Y/N) huff.

“We both know that good is not enough, Ben.” She said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Anthony could understand what his brother was talking about. The painting was a rendition of the scene unfolding before them—their siblings playing around while their mothers watched over them. It was rather good, indeed.

"It doesn’t matter, there's no place for me to do art."

Benedict frowned. "That's quite the statement to make at twenty. If you don't think you're good enough you have plenty of time to try some more, do better." He pauses, poking her. "You say that to me all the time."

"Then perhaps inform the academy.” She says, sarcasm dripping in every word. “Although two of the founding members are women, we are still not allowed to enter the classroom. It doesn't matter how much money we do or do not have."

"At least not while clothed." He comments, making (Y/N) throw the rag she was holding at him, which Benedict swiftly catches, changing the subject. "Well, now that you’ve given up all your artistic hopes, what are you going to do with your life?”

“Polish up my other talents and be an ornament to society.”

It was as if Anthony was seeing his sister speak.

“You sound like Eloise.” Benedict took the words out of Anthony’s mouth.

“Maybe she has been rubbing up on me.” (Y/N) smiled.

“You are searching for a husband, then?” Benedict asks, helping her pack her things.

“Yes.” She replies sheepishly.

“That's where Mr Scott comes in, I suppose.”

Anthony had noticed how Mr Scott had taken an interest in (Y/N), he never thought she felt the same.

Benedict continued. “You’ll accept him if he comes down properly on one knee?”

“Most likely, yes.” She said, pausing to look ahead for a moment. “He’s rich, respectable.”

When Benedict stifles a laugh, she lightly slaps his arm and Anthony has to fight back a smile. “Don’t make fun.” (Y/N) reprimands him.

"I’m not, I’m not, I promise.” He pauses. “It does sound odd coming from you.”

"I've always known that I would marry rich. Why should I be ashamed of that?"

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you love him." Benedict answers in a more serious tone.

Once upon a time Anthony would have easily seen himself at his brother's place, talking about love, but not anymore.

"Well, I believe we have some power over who we love, it isn't something that just happens to a person." (Y/N) says, closing the trunk with her paints, pencils and brushes inside.

"I think the poets might disagree." Benedict offers softly.

"Well, I'm not a poet, I'm just a woman.” She reminds him. “And as a woman I have no way to make money, not enough to earn a living and support my family. Even if I had my own money, which I don't, it would belong to my husband the minute we were married. If we had children they would belong to him not me. They would be his property. So don't stand there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it certainly is for me."

For the first time since he stopped to hear the conversation, hiding himself between the curtains, Anthony felt like he had overstepped a boundary, so he made quick work of fleeing the scene, her words echoing inside his head.

Anthony remembers Benedict joking about how him and (Y/N) would make a good match. He listens as his brother tells him about the conversation he had with her and Anthony feigns ignorance to the subject, despite having heard the entire interaction. Benedict’s voice turns into white noise in the background as Anthony is transported back to a conversation he had with Daphne last season.

At the time he didn’t understand his sister’s words—perhaps, he never would. Daphne and (Y/N) shared the same struggles, but his sister had been set in marrying for love, (Y/N), on the other hand, had already resigned herself about having to marry for convenience.

It was then that Anthony recognized that the both of them were, indeed, a good match. (Y/N) was beautiful, well mannered, educated and very good at charming people. She came from a not very rich but respectable family. Anthony knew he was one of the most eligible bachelors of the season, despite his fame as a rake. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice to marry (Y/N), which made making the decision so much easier.

Anthony visited her the next day, explaining his proposal to her.

“You listened to us?” She blinked a couple of times, trying to digest the information.

“Yes,” he confessed, “and I’m terribly sorry for it, but we have to recognize that this might have been for the best.”

He observed as she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, a little frown on her face. She was beautiful this way. Even more than when she was charming half of the ton in the many social events he had seen her.

“If you don’t mind me asking, my lord, why marry now?”

Anthony sighed. “My mom has been forcing my hand since Daphne married. Even before that, if I’m being honest. It’s time to find a good wife, settle down, and fulfill my duties.”

“Don’t take my question as an offense, but why me?”

She seemed unable to quite grasp his words. Anthony wondered if she still hoped, deep down, to marry for love and that her conversation with his brother had been only a fickle attempt to protect herself.

“You’re intelligent, (Y/N),” He kneeled in front of her. “You are beautiful and your family is respectable. If you are serious about your words to my brother, we both want the same thing from such a union.” He paused. “Would it be so bad to be married to me?”

(Y/N) bit her lip and Anthony caught himself observing the action with a little more intent than he should.

“No, my lord, I believe it wouldn’t,” she said.

“Then why not make the best we can from a predicament we can’t escape?”

She averted his gaze, looking out to the balcony where her maid was sitting and reading a book, while watching over them.

Anthony took the opportunity to look at her—hair carefully brushed and pinned up, the way the light contrasted with her silhouette, making it easier to see her nose, her lips, the  curve of her neck…

“If I were to accept your proposition, would you be committed to this relationship?”

He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I know that for our society standards maybe that’s too much to ask, but if I can’t be loved I’d wish to at least be respected.” She looked straight into his eyes and then Anthony understood what she was asking of him.

“You have my word that once we are engaged the only woman in my life will be you.”

Anthony asked her father for permission to court her in the same day, then he got properly down on one knee a second time to ask for her hand in marriage, the two of them married within months. Benedict had been shocked by the whole ordeal, but all he cared about was seeing his brother and his friend at least a little bit happy.

The process of knowing each other had been smooth, a lot easier than what Anthony first anticipated. (Y/N) took her duties as the lady of the house seriously, making a point of listening to Violet quite often. His siblings seemed to adore her even more than they liked him, and although inexperienced, as he knew she was, (Y/N) had proved herself to be a good lover. For all of those reasons, Anthony thought that keeping his promise wouldn’t be such an impossible task.

Then he discovered that Sienna had never left town and Anthony, who always prided himself in being a man of his word, proved himself to be as bad as the rest of the men he was surrounded by.

He fell back into the sheets with Sienna, and not long after that his relationship with (Y/N) became purely a show. At first, Anthony thought his wife was oblivious to his escapades, but he had clearly underestimated (Y/N)’s intelligence.

They never shared a bedroom, but there was no disguising how his visits to her chambers happened less and less, as there was no denying the gossip of the house staff that could only lead her to his broken promises.

Anthony expected a fight, things being thrown at him, screams and hits, but they never came, and that was somewhat worse.

One night when he got home after meeting Sienna, (Y/N) was sitting in the dressing room between their chambers, knitting. She lifted her eyes from her work to bid him good night. It didn’t go unnoticed to him how her smile fell from her face as she took in his disheveled state. Anthony felt ashamed for the first time in years.

(Y/N) didn’t give him time to explain himself for being so late—maybe it was for the best because he honestly didn’t know if he could find a suitable excuse for that—she just got up, leaving her unfinished work resting in the loveseat, and marched to her room.

Anthony sighed, throwing his coat away carelessly. The force knocked out (Y/N)’s knitting to the ground and Anthony groaned before bending down to take it. He furrowed his brow when he recognized the pattern—an onesie.

Maybe Daphne was pregnant again? She would’ve told him, right? Simon would, for sure. Then it hit him. Holding the unfinished piece between his fingers, Anthony realized that that was the reason why (Y/N) had stayed awake waiting for him until that hour—she was pregnant and wanted to tell him the news. Instead of the happiness she must have expected, she only received the sight of an unfaithful husband and a broken marriage.

(Y/N) never mentioned it to him and Anthony pretended as if he didn’t know, waiting for her to make the first move, tell him at her own time. (Y/N) never said it though, but he couldn’t ignore the knowledge, and the more time he passed observing her, the more evident it became to him that his wife was, in fact, expecting their first child.

In no time she distanced herself from him and all came to the point of no return in the night where she had gone through the loss of their child alone while he was rolling in the sheets with Sienna.

Anthony tried to reach out to her, succeeding only one time, a week after that fateful night, but in the following weeks, there hadn’t been much talking between them. (Y/N) would barely answer his greetings or the occasional question he threw her way trying to start a conversation. They had a few events to attend and these were the only occasions where she would grant him more than a couple of words. Anthony knew that that was all pretend for the sake of their reputation.

She refused every attempt he made to apologize or explain himself—not that there was much to explain. He couldn’t blame her, even if he wanted her forgiveness. It was her right to hate him and not want him around after he broke his promise to her.

They had never talked about it. Not until today.

(Y/N) was holding Augie, smiling down at the baby that smiled back at her, barely blinking with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

“This one seems really enchanted by you,” Daphne comments, caressing her son’s little fingers.

“He’s just getting used to me,” (Y/N) answered,  smiling at his sister.

“Well, it’s good training, since I guess you and Anthony will probably have one of your own soon.”

Is as if Anthony’s blood turns to ice. He looks at his wife whose expression turns into shock and then sadness in the blink of an eye. He recognizes the tears pooling in her eyes as she gives the baby back to Daphne and excuses herself, leaving the drawing room too quick not to draw attention.

He hurries back after her. Simon gives him an apologetic look to which Anthony answers with an equally sad smile. It doesn’t take him long to find her, bend down in the windowsill of one of the windows of the library, one hand covering her mouth to muffle her sobbing while the other rested on her belly.

(Y/N) doesn’t hear his approach, but when he touches her as if she was expecting him too. She jumps as far away from him as she can get as if his touch burned her.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t…” she doesn’t finish the sentence but Anthony could hear it loud and clear in his head.

Don’t touch me with the same hands you’ve touched her just a week ago.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Anthony reassures her, raising his hands so she can see them. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me too, but I want to help you.”

“Nobody can help me,” she sobs, hands clutching tightly at her dress.

The sight breaks his heart. Anthony wants nothing more than to take her pain away and make it his, even though he is mourning the loss of their child with her. He knew her pain was fairly worse than his, she did not only lose a child but she had been losing her husband too.

“Why, Anthony? Why us? There are so many couples that don’t love each other and still have children, why can’t we?”

Anthony takes a step forward, then two, and then he’s bringing her into his arms, wrapping her tightly against his chest, his chin resting at the top of her head. She struggles against his touch a little, but she’s so worn out that it doesn’t take much for her to relax into him.

(Y/N) fists the lapels of his waistcoat, resting her forehead against his chest, letting herself cry.

“I wanted them so bad, Anthony,” she whispers between sobs, “so bad.”

Me too, he wants to answer. Me too.

They stay in the library, in silence, for a while. When (Y/N) finally stops crying, exhausted, Anthony takes her home without even saying goodbye to his family, sending a maid to let them know his wife was not feeling well.

Their relationship shifts after that day. (Y/N) appears so exhausted by the recent events that slowly, she starts to let her guard down again. Anthony is careful when dealing with her, his wife is fragile and the sadness in her runs so deep that he is always afraid to say or do something that will put her through more pain.

“You don’t have to worry so much, you know.” She says, making him look up from his papers to see her already staring back at him.

“I always worry.”

“I won’t break if we talk about it,” she guarantees. “We have to talk about it.”

Anthony is not sure if she’s talking about their baby or Sienna. Either way it wasn’t exactly a conversation he was eager to have.

“How are you?” He asks before he can contain himself. Anthony wanted to ask that for a while but never found the opportunity.

“Healing,” she answers, “or trying to.”

He nods, nervously picking at his nails.

“When did you discover?” She asks.

“The onesie.” He looks up at her.

“The onesie,” she scoffs.

“You were… waiting for me?” His question is almost inaudible, full of regret and shame, but Anthony knows that she heard him.

“Yes,” she answers, “I was.” There’s a pause, and then the blow to his face. “Obviously you were occupied with more important matters, my lord.”

“(Y/N)—”

“I know about her,” she confesses. “I’ve always known, just didn’t want to acknowledge it and have to face the fact that my husband, the one that promised to respect me, at least, had so quickly forgotten his own word.”

“It’s not your fault.” He tries to explain but it seems like (Y/N) has had enough of silence.

“Oh, I know, my lord. This is entirely your fault.” She paused. “And hers. Not that it will matter for anyone, I’ll be the one to blame, after all.”

Her words cut through him the same way they did the week after her miscarriage: it’s always the woman’s fault. Hers or Sienna’s, it didn’t matter. Anthony would never understand the full extent of the pain it was to be a woman in their society, he would never fully understand how much he put her through and yet, would never be blamed for it.

There’s no answer to her words, no explanation for his behavior or broken promises. All he can do is watch her swallow the tears that were threatening to fall and take a deep breath. Anthony opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it.

“That night,” she says, “the night I… lost our child. You were with her.”

It wasn’t a question, but Anthony felt the need to answer it anyway, his voice low with shame.

“Yes.”

“I see,” she hums.

“If I could go back—”

“The outcome would have been the same.” She says.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I should have been there for you.”

“Yes, you should have.”

Anthony always knew that, since the moment he put foot inside their house and heard her screams, but hearing her say it had another weight.

“Are you still seeing her?” She asks, looking at him.

“No, it won’t happen again.”

(Y/N) scoffs. “Forgive me if I have trouble believing in it, my lord.”

“I know I haven’t been a good husband. God, I have been barely a good man since we married, but I promise you, I’ll learn from my mistakes and I’ll do better by you. I’ll be a better man, a better husband, one that you deserve and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get close to deserve you.”

The following days, they start to talk more during meals, and the silence that falls between them when they’re both at the drawing room—Anthony working and (Y/N) reading—is not uncomfortable anymore. Each day that passes makes Anthony believe that they can fall back into the friendship they had right after they married.

He doesn’t see Sienna again. Anthony sends her a letter telling her that they should stop seeing each other because he doesn’t want to hurt his wife anymore. Which is the truth. Every time he thinks about the last time he met Sienna, his wife’s cries of pain and sorrow plague his mind and he just can’t see himself hurting her even more than he already had without even realizing it.

Anthony watches her playing with Gregory and Hyacinth in the garden. His younger siblings are fighting for her attention but she doesn’t seem to mind, going back and forth in between the two of them with ease. Then she looks at him, a huge smile on her face that made him smile too. Her attention was quickly snatched from him to his siblings again and Anthony felt a pang of jealousy in his chest—he didn’t want to share her attention.

In the past few weeks, Anthony discovered that his wife was more than the character of the perfect wife that she played for the ton. She was very much real and very much a woman with desires and ambitions. Everything that happened between then made her more bold, she didn’t take his poor excuses anymore, she talked openly about all sorts of things and Anthony caught himself wanting to listen.

“Hum, did you finally realize that you got a diamond in your hands, then?”

Anthony turned his head to look at Benedict, who had a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

His relationship with Benedict was stranded since his brother discovered about Sienna. Anthony didn’t blame Benedict, he was friend’s with his wife since they were kids. He only had himself to blame for being so foolish.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anthony answered, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t observing their siblings with (Y/N).

“Keep lying to yourself then,” Benedict smirked, turning away to leave.

Anthony called after him. “Will you ever forgive me?”

Benedict sighed. “I’m not the one who has to forgive you. I just expected more from my brother.”

“I know,” he agrees. Benedict makes a move to go out the door, and then comes back, pulling Anthony into a hug.

“Look, I could say a thousand things to you, but nothing will undo what’s done.” Benedict says when they part, a hand resting on Anthony’s shoulder. “Just… learn from your mistakes and do better. You’re my brother and I love you, but trust me when I say that you don't deserve (Y/N). Can you imagine what mother would have done to our father if they ever found themselves in the same situation?”

“They loved each other,” Anthony protested to prevent his mind from wandering.

“You are truly oblivious, brother of mine.” Benedict scoffed.

His brother’s word haunted him for the rest of the day and all the way back to their home. Always perceptive, his change in behavior didn’t go unnoticed by (Y/N).

“What happened,” she asked when they were alone in the dressing room.

Anthony hummed, turning around to look at her and trying not to get distracted by her beauty as she braided her own hair after taking off the jewelry.

“Nothing.”

Her reflection raises a brow at him.

“Do better,” she warns, getting up and walking up to him, face softening as she stands in front of him. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

He nods, taking one of her hands and bringing it to his face. Anthony’s eyes close.

“Is it about her?”

The question gets him off guard. His eyes open instantly to look at her and he drops (Y/N)’ hand instantly.

“No,” he answers, “no,” he adds firmly, cradling her face in between his hands. “There is no one else in my life but you. There won’t be no one else in my life but you.”

“Anthony…” She breaths, closing her eyes as her delicate hands take hold of his wrists.

He wants nothing more than to kiss her, but refrains. It’s not the time for that. They’re both healing and he doesn’t want to taint whatever it is they’re creating by getting ahead of himself. Instead, Anthony presses his lips to her hair, inhaling her scent.

“Stay with me tonight,” he pleads, not sure where the urge to stay close to her came from. Anthony expects her to put up a fight, but (Y/N) only nods, murmuring an okay, before guiding him to her room.

It’s the first time since that fateful night that the both of them sleep through it, getting up later than usual the other day.

Their first kiss after everything that threatened to push them apart for good, happens so suddenly that none of them expects it.

(Y/N) had received the news that one of her younger sisters was going to marry the man she loves, her happiness made her throw herself at him and before either of them could realize, they were kissing each other.

It was just a chaste peck on the lips at the beginning. When they realized what had just happened they parted, his wife didn’t bother to step away from him to escape his embrace. They just stared at each other, eyes flicking between their eyes and their lips and then she placed a hand at the back of his neck, bringing him close to seal their lips again.

Anthony responded in kind, his hands on her waist, traveling up her back as he tasted her. It was like he was kissing her for the first time. They were discovering each other again, learning what each other felt like.

Desperately, Anthony wanted to discover what the strange feeling at the pit of his stomach was. Since before they married (Y/N) made him feel different, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He pushed it down to the depths of his mind—the last thing he needed was feeling something other than respect and partnership for his wife.

He protested when (Y/N) parted her lips from his and it took him a second to notice Benedict standing at the door, a smirk on his lips.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to let you know that our mother is waiting for (Y/N) downstairs. Something about the charity?”

“Oh,” his wife exclaimed, “I had forgotten about it,” she said, wriggling herself away from his arms, making Anthony growl in frustration.

If she noticed, (Y/N) made a good job at ignoring it. The same couldn’t be said about his brother.

“I figured,” Benedict smirked.

“Not a word,” (Y/N) warned as she passed him by, slapping his arm playfully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Anthony watched as she turned around, stealing one last glance at him before disappearing and taking his breath away with her.

“Huh,” Benedict hummed, “I see.”

Rolling his eyes, Anthony asked, “And what do you see, dear brother?”

“You love her.”

“Nonsense,” he protested, “we’re just good partners.”

“Good partners don’t kiss like that.”

The ride home was silent, but Anthony’s heart fluttered in his chest when (Y/N) searched for his hand. Could Benedict be right? Did he really fall in love with his wife? He frowned while looking out of the window of the carriage and (Y/N) might have noticed it, because she made a move to take her hand away from him. Anthony didn’t let her.

“What’s going on in your mind?”

“Something Benedict said to me.”

“If it is about the kiss, don’t mind him. It won’t happen again.”

Anthony looked at her exasperated.

“I surely hope you’re not serious about that.”

“Anthony…”

“How can I live without your kisses again is unknown to me.”

“You lived quite well without them all your life,” she smiles, shyly.

“But now that I know them, I can’t anymore.”

Painfully slowly, she moves closer, giving him the chance to meet her halfway and bring their lips together again.

It’s like a breath of fresh air on a hot summer day and Anthony can’t seem to get enough of her. They get so distracted that they don’t even realise the carriage has stopped in front of the house until the door is open.

Recomposing themselves, he observes as (Y/N) giggles at the situation and feels his heart flutter at the image.

As they prepare to retire for the night, Anthony stops for a minute before following her into her room—he has been doing that for quite a few nights.

When she notices that he hasn’t entered the bedroom, (Y/N) looks back at him with a frown.

“Anything’s wrong?”

Anthony smiles, “No, nothing’s wrong,” he answers, as she extends her hand for him to take, and they retire for the night.

[chrisbesitos]

younger reader having parent issues :( so whenever Chris snaps at her it reminds her of when she was younger and her dad yelled at her

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀emails i can't send

( warnings: family issues, argument, angst with fluff at the end.

( synopsis: y/n never had a healthy family and this still affect her.

Y/N parents wasn't the best ones. She had a great childhood, playing outside with her friends, a lot of dolls and colorful toys, but still missing something. Doesn't matter what she said or did, it never was enough for them. Never was enough for them to stop screaming, everything fucking night she could hear from her room. Y/N just cried, hugging her favorite plushie against her chest under the blankets, at least when they were screaming with each other, they didn't scream at her.

Growing up dealing with that shit wasn't easy, but she learned how to survive. Cry in silence in the middle of the night, walk around on tiptoe to not disturb her dad, she also learned who's coming by the sound of the steps. This is not living, but there's nowhere to run, nowhere to go.

Until she met Chris, her lovely boyfriend. Her parents didn't like him, they always said he'll end up cheating on her or breaking up, because she's younger than him. At first, Y/N didn't tell anything about her relationship with her parents to Chris, but he started to ask when he realized she always looks upset when they talk about their families. He and his brothers have a great and supportive family, Y/N feel a little jealousy of them.

She said what's going on in the night she asked Chris if she could spend the night, because her parents were mad at her and she couldn't deal with the screams anymore. Chris was supportive, he cleaned her tears and held her until stop crying. Y/N was nineteen, she could move out, Chris said she could stay with him. At first, she denied, because she didn't want to disturb them, but Y/N ended up accepting, at least for a while until she find a place for her.

Chris promised he'll never scream at her, but he didn't keep his promise.

"So you're gonna keep ignoring me?" Y/N said following Chris until their room, Chris wasn't answering her since they got in the car after leaving a dinner with his friends. "Can you fucking answer me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Chris groans, he turned to Y/N with his arms crossed against the chest and the eyebrows frowned.

"What do i want you to say? You're fucking ignoring me since we left, what's wrong with you?" She stamped her foot on the ground, Chris laughed sarcastically. He sat on the couch, shaking his head. "Damn, stop being so childish!"

"I'm being childish? You're the one who is stamping your feet, because I'm not doing what you want."

"What are you talking about, Chris?!" She said, passing her hands through the hair nervously.

"You don't give me five minutes, because I always have to be around you or you fucking cry about." He said, almost screaming. He groaned when she frowned her eyebrows, trying to understand. "Don't play dumb, Y/N. You can be alone for fucking five minutes, you can't act normal around people? You need to keep grabbing my hands and shit."

"I'm sorry if I don't know how to talk with your friends, they fucking older than me." Y/N crossed her arms, stepping back and hardly holding her tears. She doesn't like arguments, Chris knows this, but he's too angry to think straight.

"There we go again, you and your fucking "oh, chris, they're older than me"" He lifted up from the couch, stepping in Y/N's direction. "You're such a cry baby." He screamed in your face, then he realized he took too far.

Her eyes are filled with tears, hugging her own body. Y/N feel like she was a kid once again, small and defenceless. He took too far, he promised he'll never scream at her, because that's what her father used to do and he screamed. Chris felt so. . . So idiot.

"You think I'm a cry baby?" She asked, her voice cracked and this broke Chris' heart. He wasn't an idiot, he was an asshole. What type of boyfriend is he making his girl cry? Chris shook his head, closing his eyes fighting against his tears. He tried to reach for her hands, but she didn't let he hold them.

"I shouldn't have screamed with you, doll. I'm so sorry." He said, his voice was stuck on his throat. Y/N shook her head, more tears were falling from her pretty eyes. He felt like shit for being horrible with his girlfriend, she didn't deserve this.

She didn't deserve him.

"Do you think I'm a cry baby?" She asked again, Chris shook his head approaching her. Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down. "So why you call me this?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was so blind being selfish that I didn't think, but I don't think you are." Chris said, embracing her shoulders and moving her towards the couch. Y/N sat down and Chris kneeled down on the floor in front of her, he held her hands. "I'm really sorry, doll. I didn't mean to treat you like this. I was acting like a–"

"Asshole." She said, sniffing.

"Asshole, yes." He said, Chris kissed the back of her hands. "I don't think you're a cry baby, neither childish. I disrespect you and I see this now, you're just trying to fit in and I didn't help you, I'm sorry, doll."

"You hurt me with your words, Chris. And you know I don't like screams, you upset me." Y/N said, she use her fingers to clean the tears on Chris' cheeks. "You promised me, Chris."

"I know, doll, and I'm really sorry. I'll never do that again."

"I'm sorry if I was annoying today, I just didn't know how to fit." She said, looking at Chris with her glassy eyes. He lifted the floor and sat by her side, he pulled her to his lap and kissed her forehead.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize, not you." Chris hugged her shoulders, Y/N rested her head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. "I don't know how to fix this, I'm really sorry, Y/N."

"Don't call me Y/N, I'm your doll." Y/N lips leaned in a smile, she lifted her head and looked at Chris. "Never do that again with me, I'm not kidding." She pointed at him and Chris nodded quickly.

"Never again, doll." He smiled, Y/N hugged his neck and Chris caressed her back, giving little kisses on her hair. "I love you, babydoll. Much more than you can think."

"I love you, baby." She whispered. "Now, I know how you can fix this." She gave him a perv smile, Chris laughed caring her to the bed.

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

taglist | masterlist

[ellecdc]

Soooo, I'm not the usual requester of the poly!moonwater x reader, but I fell I love with them and the way you write them!

With that being said, could I request Mia and Monty taking in Regulus and reader, saving them from their cruel families, and the holidays being absolutely hectic with everyone there.

Maybe some Mia and reader bonding?

If not that's fine! All my love,

🦕

*gasps* thank you lovely! I'm so glad you've loved moonwater enough to submit a request!!! sorry this took so long, I had this half finished and couldn't figure out for the life of me how to wrap it up happily, and then I was like "of course! Effie!" - not so much chaos but a lot of hurt/comfort and fluff

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through my older ones~

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

CW: toxic/abusive family dynamics, mentions and insinuations of abuse, your parents suck in this - I'm sorry, but just call me Euphemia Potter because you're all my children now

Remus had to admit that he was getting increasingly worried about you and Regulus the closer it got to the summer holidays. It seemed that no matter how much brighter the weather became outside, clouds were determined to follow the two of you around.

Remus only knew why Regulus would perhaps grow tense at the thought of returning to 12 Grimmauld Place on account of Remus’ years’ long friendship with Sirius. But the youngest Black, since reconciling with his older brother, has staunchly refused to discuss family life. Remus could accept that; he understood the gist.

But you, he was at a loss with. Though, he would admit that your occasional flinch at a raised hand or sudden quick movements by either Regulus or Remus spoke volumes on that end.

So here you all were (being Remus, you, Regulus, Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily) sitting by the Black Lake and enjoying the sun on one of the last few days of the school year, and you and Regulus were nearly comatose in your melancholy. 

Lily and Peter were doing their best to pretend they didn’t notice any tension in the group as they busied themselves with a game of wizarding chess, but James and Sirius had no such qualms and were staring hard between Remus and Regulus. 

“I told you that you could come with me, Reggie.” Sirius said surprisingly softly for the oldest Black. Regulus’ jaw twitched as he stole a fleeting glance at James.

“You told me that a year ago. I wasn’t smart enough to go then, I don’t see why I’d deserve that option now.” He muttered, sounding disturbingly more and more like the aristocratic Pureblood he was raised to be.

“It’s not about deserving, Reg.” Sirius said at the same time Remus said, “of course you do.”

“Honestly,” James interjected, “at this point, my mum would be pissed if you didn’t come live with us.”

Regulus’ face appeared to remain impassive, but Remus knew better; there were signs. His jaw tightened, there was a small movement in his left eyebrow and a subtle glossiness in his eyes.

Suddenly his gaze flit to Remus, his eyes almost begging him to understand something he hadn’t yet voiced. Remus held Regulus’ gaze until his eyes turned to something else; to you.

But it didn’t appear that you had heard any of the conversation going on around you; your eyes pointed to some unmarked point in the horizon, your mind far away.

“I can’t leave her.” Regulus whispered once he knew you wouldn’t hear.

“What’s the point of both of you suffering, Regulus? You can’t help her from Grimmauld Place.” Sirius argued. 

Regulus finally groaned, and Remus’ heart clenched knowing how close he was to frustrated tears. Remus felt just as close, feeling completely helpless in this situation. But his parents struggled enough supporting him alone. He knew that if he asked, his mum would have the two of you in a heartbeat, but the Potter’s had the space and funds to do it far more easily. 

“Y/N can come too.” James said plainly.

“Hm?” You hummed quietly, turning your attention back to the group at the sound of your name.

Regulus grimaced slightly but James, either ignorant to body language or choosing to ignore it carried on. “I was just thinking, we’re inviting Regulus to move in with us for the summer. Perhaps you could join us?”

You stared hard at James without breaking eye contact and Remus grew more and more tense the longer you stayed silent.

“It’s good that Regulus is staying with you.” You commented, sounding nearly robotic.

“You could-” Remus began, but you cut him off.

“Don’t, Remus.”

“Amour.” Regulus pleaded quietly.

“Leave it.” You ordered before standing and walking away. 

Regulus sighed and buried his face in his hands. Remus couldn’t stand it anymore and moved to sit beside him, rubbing soothing swipes up and down his spine.

“Your brother is right, love. You’ll be more help to her if you’re safe at Potter Manor. You need to be brave for the both of you right now.”

“She’s never told me either, you know?” Regulus spoke from inside his hands. “I have no idea what happens when she leaves here.”

Remus fought back the tears that threatened to infiltrate his eyes. “You’ll be more help to her from Potter Manor.” He repeated.

You’d been avoiding the boys, that much was certain. And even if you weren’t avoiding them, it was like you weren’t even there when you were sitting right next to them. Remus hated to think that this was the note you were all leaving on, knowing you’d not see each other again until September first. 

Regulus had agreed to stay with the Potters, though he refused to discuss with anyone what was said to his parents (or, perhaps more importantly, what his parents had said in return). 

So, they stood there in Central Hall with their bags and school trunks; James and Sirius arguing over what they were going to do first when they got to the Manor (in an attempt to hopefully lighten the mood for Reggie's sake) while Remus stared at Regulus’ face without pretending that he wasn’t, as his boyfriend stood painfully rigid.

You appeared then, the strap of your duffle bag thrown over your shoulder and your school trunk trailing behind you. Remus didn’t think he’d ever seen you look so forlorn.

It was like a switch was flipped in Regulus, and he went from a soldier standing at attention to cooing over your shorter frame.

“Let me get this, amour. Did you get everything packed okay?” He asked you softly, pulling your duffle bag gently from your shoulder to throw over his own. You barely nodded in acknowledgment, eyes staring at the ground unseeingly. Remus felt sick to his stomach.

“Okay.” Regulus murmured at you quietly, giving Remus a quick shake of his head as he went to move to you. Remus had this overwhelming urge to pick you up and huddle you under his arm, not letting go until you were all the way to Wales – where your family couldn’t get to you.

But Regulus perhaps understood your mindset better than he did.  

“Can Rem take your trunk for you?” Regulus asked, mostly as a means to invite Remus into the conversation and less trying to get him to be your pack mule.

“No.” You said as firmly as you could manage in this fragile state. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” You said, finally looking up to make eye contact with Remus and Regulus. 

Regulus, for his part, managed to smile sadly at you. Remus was sure his discontent was written all over his face.

“Ready to get this show on the road? Look at me, sounding all muggle.” Sirius called. One would think he sounded indifferent to what was going on, but Remus (and Regulus) could see this for what it truly was: distraction.

“No.” You whispered.

“What is it, lovie?” Remus asked, turning his attention quickly back to you.

“I’m not, I-” you took a few quick breaths, face scrunching up painfully as your eyes filled with tears. “I’m not ready, I can’t. I can’t go. I’m not...”

“Okay.” Regulus said softly.

“I can’t go back, I can’t - I’m not ready.”

“That’s alright.” Sirius offered just as softly. 

You were disturbingly close to hyperventilating – surveying your surroundings like you were looking for a place to run, looking for a way out. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You cried.

“Then don’t, love.” Remus pleaded. And you broke down into sobs. 

Something inside Remus snapped and he made for you, enveloping you in a hug that was probably far too tight, but you nuzzled impossibly further into his chest anyway as if he could perhaps hold your pieces together as you fell apart.

He’d find a way to do it for you if that’s what you truly needed.

As your gasping sobs ceased and your breathing evened into only the occasional hiccup, James let out a theatrical “Phew.”

“What?” Regulus asked, voice somewhat taut from both protectiveness and frayed nerves. 

“I sort of told my mum she was coming to live with us, anyway.”

Remus could have kissed the sod right on the mouth at that moment. He opted to kiss the top of your head instead. 

“I don’t want-”

“-to be in the way. You won’t be, amour.” Regulus interrupted your train of thought, voice far softer than the one he’d used with James.

“Yeah, Regulus is far more inconveniencing than you are, dollface.” Sirius snarked with a wink, earning him a quick stinging jinx from Regulus. 

If Remus had thought that the hard part was over in Central Hall, he was very wrong.

You had settled not too badly as you all rode the wagons to the train station holding onto Remus’ hand like a vice, and Regulus appeared to be far more comfortable now that he was less worried about you. Regulus undeniably had some abandonment issues, and the thought of going to the Potter’s without you left him with the sense that he would somehow be letting you down. Remus supposed that at least before, the two of you could commiserate together knowing that whatever you were going through, so was the other.

But as the group travelled on, some of your own tension returned the closer you got to Kings Cross Station. 

“You don’t have to say anything to them, you can just leave with us.” Sirius said plainly as Remus reached to grab your bags from the overhead compartment.

“That’d be considered kidnapping.” You responded quietly.

You hooked your duffle over your shoulder and stood, looking through the compartment as if you could somehow see your family through the sheets of metal separating you and Platform 9 ¾.

“Would...would you like us to come with you? Stand by your side? How would you like to do this, love?” Remus asked, leaning back slightly so he could see your face directly. 

You seemed to ponder that for a few moments before returning his gaze. “Maybe...maybe you guys could just, stay a little behind me? Not close enough to say anything or for them to say anything to you, just...”

“Close.” Regulus finished for you. You nodded in response.

“Consider it done, dove.” Remus said and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

James and Sirius spotted the Potter’s quickly after exiting the train and brought your bags and trunks to them so that the Potter’s elves could bring them to the Manor. You watched as your trunk disappeared with a pop; there was no going back now. 

“Y/N.” An indifferent tone called, causing you to stand up straighter, though you didn’t seem ready to turn your gaze towards it yet.

“We’re right here, amour. We’re not leaving without you.” Regulus insisted. Remus wanted to touch you, grab your hand, kiss your cheek, but he knew he’d have to wait until you felt safe.

Safe.

Soon you’d be safe.

True to their words, Regulus and Remus followed you towards your parents who stood poised like models in a Victorian Era portrait, staring down at you over their noses, though the two boys paused a good distance away as you had asked them too.

“I hate this.” Regulus murmured as you said hello to your parents. Your mother turned to leave before you asked them to wait.

“We’ll be able to take her home after this.” Remus placated, but it did nothing to soothe his own nerves either. 

“You’re doing what?” He heard your mother ask derisively. 

You repeated yourself, albeit quieter and more meekly than you had before. Remus wanted to hex her for making you feel so small.

“Absolutely not. Get your things.” Your father barked.

You raised your hand carefully, pointing towards the Potter’s to explain that they’ve already brought your things to their house.

“You insolent little witch. How dare you undermine me like this.” Your father spat and took a menacing step towards you. You stepped back quickly with a full body flinch, and that was it for Remus.

“We’re done. Let’s go.” Remus said authoritatively. “Come on, dove.” 

You needn’t be told twice, allowing Reg to steer you towards the Potter’s as Remus cast a quick muffliato around you to spare you from any trailing remarks your parents made. 

Remus and Regulus exchanged a worried glance over your head as you kept your eyes glued to the floor, letting yourself be guided blindly through the platform.

“Ready to go, dearies?” Euphemia Potter asked kindly, softly, as she beamed at the five students in front of her with Fleamont at her side. Even Remus felt like he had whiplash at the difference of atmosphere on this end of the platform; he couldn’t imagine how you or Reg were managing. 

“Hello, cariad!” Remus heard his mother call before any of you could answer Effie’s question. He turned his gaze to see his parents, Hope and Lyall Lupin, move through the crowds towards them.

“Gangs all here now!” Lyall called, and you tightened your hand currently enclosed safely in Remus’. He gave your three quick squeezes in return: a silent promise of safety. 

“This must be Regulus and Y/N!” His mum cheered, looking awfully close to embracing both of you. However, Regulus’ aristocratic upbringing appeared to save the day as he quickly stepped in front of you and stuck his hand out, bowing politely to her.

“Mrs. Lupin, it’s very nice to finally meet you.” He said, posh accent on full display.

Remus gave a pleading look to his family, knowing his mother was the kind to say “oh, I’m really more of a hugger.”

But apparently, one thing motherly love was very good at was reading the room, and his mum accepted the handshake before his dad, Effie and Monty all got one of their own. You nodded politely and exchanged a quiet ‘hello’ but opted to stay glued to Remus’ side.

He couldn’t say he minded that option entirely. 

Euphemia Potter was no stranger to troubled children showing up at her doorstep, but she couldn’t help but admit how different this time was.

Last year, Sirius showed up battered, beaten, bloodied, and bruised, not to mention completely scared out of his mind. And underneath all of that was this horrible fear for his younger brother’s safety, as well as an overwhelming sense of guilt for leaving him behind.

Sirius never really recovered from feeling like a burden, not last summer at least. He remained entirely too polite for Effie’s tastes, full of “thank you, Mrs. Potter”’s or “that really isn’t necessary”’s right up until the day she sent them off to Hogwarts.

“Now boys.” She said, giving the two troublemakers as stern a face as one Euphemia Potter could muster. “Though I would certainly prefer no trouble at all, can we at least promise not to get quite as many detentions this year? And for the love of Merlin – no more broken bones! I like that when people ask me how my sons are, I can at least say ‘well, at least they’ve got their health!’”

Effie was certain that the pressure behind Sirius’ eyes from fighting the tears must have been excruciating, but he held out for as long as he could before he launched himself into her chest. 

“Thank you, Effie.” He finally whispered through tears.

“Please, Sirius.” She whispered as she stroked the boy’s hair. “Call me mum.”

If last year was full of guilt, grief, and fear, this summer seemed to be full of caution, hope, and love.

Where James spent last summer trying to keep Sirius in as high spirits as possible, this year he got to simply play the role of host. Where Sirius spent last summer trying to stay out of the way and convince himself and everyone around him that he was completely fine, this year he got to show his brother what real family looked like.

And though he saw a lot of Sirius in Regulus, there was so much that was so distinctly him.

Regulus’ trauma came out in impeccable table manners, speaking in a manner far more suited to a member of parliament than a teenaged boy at a casual meal, and assessing the atmosphere in the room with the efficacy of a social weather man. 

But his personality was completely contradictory. 

He made jokes and comments that he didn’t seem to realize were funny until people around him laughed, which caused him to blush but let out surprised laughter of his own. Where Sirius’ jokes were performative and always for the sake of amusing the people around him, Regulus’ humour came naturally and unbiddenly. Where Sirius showed his love and excitement as loudly as possible in order to make sure everyone around him got to share in it, Regulus dutifully handed out his love and excitement in carefully curated doses. 

She loved them both beyond measure.

And you...well, Effie could certainly see how you managed to win over not one but two of her favourite young men. Your trauma seemed to come out in the form of fading into the background. Everything you did, you did quietly. You never asked for anything, whether it be for seconds at dinner, something to drink during the day, or to go into town to shop for supplies.

But even though you were clearly struggling, Effie could see how much you cared for those boys both actively and passively. Your body language seemed to change the second either of them entered a room, their presence’s easing any discomfort you may have been feeling nearly immediately; you smiled brighter, made more eye contact, and even contributed to conversations when one of them was around. Right now they were your confidence, your safe space. Effie hoped to get the chance to see it for herself one day, but she felt unbelievably lucky to get to see it in this way too. 

You always showed up with bottles of water when the boys were outside playing quidditch, somehow knowing Regulus was the kind to completely miss any cues his body gave him of thirst and predicting his needs. And you always brought sunblock out unprompted when Remus would fall asleep with a book over his face, ensuring he wouldn’t burn in the sun. 

She loved you so much.

It had been about two weeks since summer holidays started, and Hope and Lyall Lupin were going to be leaving their mini holiday at Potter Manor in a few days when Effie felt that you had made enough progress to broach the subject. 

“Y/N, dearie. Do you have a moment?” She asked as you and the boys walked in the back door after spending some time down at the lake.

Effie noticed a flicker of concern cross your features, though you readily agreed nonetheless. Remus smiled while Regulus promptly stood at attention.

“Hope’s going to be leaving in a few days, and I was thinking perhaps we could get a shopping trip in before she does.”

At this Hope looked over with a beaming smile. “Oh! I’d so love to go shopping! The shops are not nearly as posh in Cardiff.” 

You looked between the two women uncertainly but began nodding your head. “Erm, yes, sure. What...what are we shopping for?”

“Well, I thought we could go shopping for some clothes.”

You looked absolutely horrified at this. “I have clothes! I brought everything I had from school.”

Effie smiled encouragingly at you. “Yes, and what you had packed for school was appropriate for a Scottish autumn and winter, not for a summer in London.”

Sirius, never one to leave very well alone, piped up at this. “I want to go shopping! Can I come?”

Hope chuckled and ruffled the boy’s long hair. “I think it’d be better just us ladies, hm?”

Sirius pouted at that, but Regulus took pity on his brother. “You can come with me and Fleamont, Sirius.”

Sirius stood abruptly and planted a smacking kiss to the younger boy’s cheek. “You’re officially my favourite sibling.” He declared, earning him an indignant ‘oi!’ from James. 

“Get off of me, you sod.” Regulus grumbled, leaning further into Remus’ side. 

You looked at your two boys then; Remus was smiling at you with a look so full of love and pride it nearly rivaled Effie’s, and Regulus was smiling encouragingly and so sweetly, Effie was certain her blood sugar levels spiked just at the sight.

“That...that would be very nice. Thank you, ladies.” You agreed quietly. You nodded your head in decision, mostly to encourage yourself but Effie was thankful for the effort.

It was hard to imagine a time nearly eighteen years ago that Effie and Monty were heartbroken and struggling to finally have a child of their own. If only they’d know that seventeen years later, their lovely, lovely boy would bring home four more for them to love.

She was simultaneously sad for you, Regulus, and Sirius that you had to grow up in homes that didn’t love you the way you ought to have been, but she was so beyond grateful she got the honour to love you properly, now and for the rest of her life.

As long as Euphemia Potter lived, none of you would ever spend a moment being anything but loved.

[daenysx]

I can't stop thinking about modern!aemond with his pregnant wife or with the baby, like him caressing her little bump, or massaging her when she feels tired

i wrote a little drabble for this, i hope it's okay <33

modern!aemond targaryen x pregnant fem!reader , fluff

you wrap your fingers around the cup of herbal tea aemond made for you minutes ago.

he's not sitting here with you, because he needs to make calls and work in his room. you told him it's okay, never liked keeping him away from his job. working is something he needs to do to keep his mind occupied, otherwise you think he'll be worried for you or the baby. it happened before.

your other hand draws absent-minded shapes on your belly. it's grown huge, to the point where you can't see your feet when you're standing up. it feels unbelievable sometimes, the fact that you'll be able to see your baby girl in such a short time. you will hold her in your arms, feed her and kiss her. it's gonna feel like a miracle, you're not familiar with miracles.

you are curious about the details, of course. not the giving birth part, you try to keep your mind away from it these days. but what will she look like? doctors are saying she's healthy and everything's okay. will she have aemond's hair? maybe your eyes? will she read lots of books when she's grown like her dad, or will she like obsessing over fictional characters from tv shows just like you did years ago? she'll be perfect, you know that much. a mix of aemond and you. perfect.

you can't wait to meet her for many reasons but it would also be nice to stop being pregnant and get rid of the aches in your body. it's not easy to carry a baby, no matter how excited you are, physical aspects cannot be ignored for too long. you feel swollen everywhere, it's hard to leave the bed or couch by yourself, and sometimes even your face doesn't feel like your own. you think it's normal to feel that way most times, but- not always. not today.

the couch beneath you is usually comfy, not now, though. it feels like something's digging up your spine, you tilt your head back to the pillows with a low groan. baby girl moves, she's a bit restless today. you want to move your legs, maybe walk a little to relieve the numbness in them. well, you can't leave the couch by yourself. tough luck.

your hero steps in, and you manage to take a nice breath. aemond comes to you, his face is unreadable. he tries not to let work bother him, especially when he needs to be okay for the three of you now, but you sense him feeling stressed over it. it looks like today will be a small disaster for each member of his little targaryen family.

"what's wrong?" aemond asks, the moment he sees your discomfort. "are you hurting anywhere?"

you hand him the tea cup, only took a few sips from it before. "can you help me up, please?"

"of course, my love." he softens immediately. it's time to be a good husband, he's not gonna sulk over business deals just now. "here, let me hold you." he says, supporting your body to lift you up.

it's nice to feel your legs again. you hold aemond's hand, his other arm supports your waist to give you something to lean back. you look up to him to get a kiss. it's needed desperately, and he's quick to give you what you want. your belly gets in the way a bit, but aemond is tall enough to still tower over you, your lips meet just right.

"do you wanna walk with me?" aemond asks. "let's go to kitchen and find something to eat for you."

"a walk would be nice." you say, accepting his lead. "she's moving too much today. it's feels like she's angry at me or something."

"she's just impatient." he defends his girl. "she'll be here soon."

"yes." you say happily, stepping into the kitchen. "we still need to decide a name, though."

you lean against the kitchen counter as aemond takes out some fruits from the fridge. he starts preparing a whole plate of them, pineapples and strawberries. just what you like.

"i mean, at least we have options." he says. "we just decide what feels right when we get to see her."

"mm, okay." you say, not having enough energy to discuss the name thing over again. it's hard to pick it, even harder to stop yourself from thinking another option and trying to decide which will be better.

aemond is done with the fruits, he washes his hands and gets a towel to dry them before reaching for you. "you look like you need to get some sleep." he says with a little smile on his face. he cups your cheeks to kiss your chin.

"but you just made me snacks." you tell him. snacks are important.

"they'll be here when you wake up." aemond reminds you. "i'm done with work today. we can go to bed and wake up at dinner time if you want."

normally it's a shock to hear these words from your husband, he doesn't like spending hours on sleeping during the day. after you started getting more tired though, he tries to stay with you as much as he can. you like having him in bed even when you can't cuddle properly, it's the way he makes you feel safe. also, quality time for your tiny family.

you nod, holding his hand again to go to bed. walking seems a bit harder now, you wrap your free hand around your belly. you're thankful for having aemond's clothes on you, nothing feels restraining at least. you sit on bed and try to find a nice position to lay down.

you don't like having covers on you but aemond still pulls the thin blanket on your legs. he lays down after, keeping his body as close to yours as he can. his hand finds its usual spot on your belly. he's gentle with the way he rubs your skin. you close your eyes, your poor muscles give up.

"why is my girl so restless today, hmm?" he asks softly, leaning to your baby as he talks to her. "you need to give your mommy a break, little love, i don't like seeing her so exhausted."

aemond kisses where your baby's head must be and you feel a sudden comfort spreading all over your body. "keep talking to her, please." you say. you love how he manages to calm both you and your baby.

"you'll be here soon." he says, his fingers meet with her as she moves. "we'll get to choose you a name, and you'll wear your tiny clothes. we need to pick up a teddy bear for you, and decide your favorite color to get you nice dresses. you need to be here to do all that, okay?"

you reach for aemond's hand when you feel sleep taking over you. he keeps talking to your baby, and she finally settles down. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't need to. he can only watch you and stay with you just in case you need anything when you wake up. he gives both of you occasional kisses to remind you of his presence.

[the-offside-rule]

Marcello Hernandez (SNL) - The Tour

Requested: I JUST SAW SOMEONE SAY THEY NEEDED MARCELLO HERNANDEZ IMAGINES AND I AGREE

Prompt: Marcello Hernandez x singer!reader

Warnings: nope

The atmosphere was electric as the sun began to set over the city, casting a warm glow over the arena. Y/N’s opening night was finally here, and Marcello could hardly contain his excitement. He stood backstage, a bundle of nerves and pride, knowing that his girlfriend was about to take the stage. As Y/N warmed up her vocals, Marcello peeked through the curtains, watching her. Her focus and determination radiated from her as she effortlessly hit each note, and he couldn’t help but admire her talent. She was a star, and tonight was her night. "Marcello!" She squealed as she saw him through the mirror. Her camera crew for her tour documentary turned to film him walking towards her. He approached her, heart racing, and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Hey, baby.” He whispered, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. She turned, her eyes lighting up as she smiled. “This is the inspirarion behidn your favourite songs. This face right here.” She beamed as she looked into the camera, turning to plant a kiss on his cheek and leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.” She said as he linked his fingers through hers.

“What made you think that? You literally wrote the whole tracklist about me.” He replied, holding her gaze. “Grammy incoming.” He grinned. They shared a sweet moment, knowing the journey they had both taken to get here. After a few more encouraging words, Marcello reluctantly pulled away, knowing she had to get ready. “I’ll be in the tent.” He said, feeling a mix of anticipation and pride. “Okay, I love you.”

As he made his way to the VIP area, he was greeted by fans excited to see him. “Marcello! Can we give you something?” A group of enthusiastic fans handed him colourful friendship bracelets, each one more vibrant than the last. Others offered him small gifts; handwritten notes, a keychain, and even a little plushie. He accepted them graciously, touched by their kindness. “Thank you so much! This means a lot.” He said, flashing them his trademark smile. Their support for Y/N, and their kindness to him made him really settle in. There were a lot of fans who didn't think Marcello and Y/N were a good pairing, no matter how much she sang about him,no how how much she posted about him, no matter how she said she loved him, they didn't like it, but it was moments like this; getting these gifts that made it all go away.

Settling into the VIP tent, Marcello’s heart raced as the lights dimmed. The crowd erupted into cheers, and he could barely contain his own excitement as Y/N stepped onto the stage, glowing under the spotlight. The music kicked in, and he found himself captivated by her performance. All throughout the show, he felt eyes on him, fans recording his every reaction. He watched her sing her heart out, and every time she pointed to him, a rush of warmth spread through him, turning his cheeks a shade of crimson. He couldn’t help but smile; their connection was palpable, and the audience could see it. Despite whispers and opinions from those who thought she could do better, it didn’t matter. Y/N was happy, and that was all he cared about.

As the concert neared its climax, Marcello’s heart raced with excitement and nerves. He knew he wanted to be right there for her when she finished. Just before the final song, he slipped out of the VIP tent and made his way to the side stage, wanting to be ready to catch her when she came off. The final song ended, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Y/N took a moment, soaking it all in, and then, with her heart full, she spotted him. Their eyes locked, and the world around them faded away. She ran off the stage, a beaming smile on her face, and Marcello opened his arms wide.

As she reached him, they embraced tightly, the adrenaline of the night still coursing through them. “You were incredible!” He exclaimed, holding her close. “I couldn’t see you in the tent for that last song! I got so worried!” She said, pulling back to look into his eyes, her expression filled with gratitude and love.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the stage together, the cheers of her fans echoing behind them. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They were happy, and they had each other.

[rebelliousneferut]

love's public debut | jude bellingham x secret girlfriend!reader

summary; your private Instagram is your fortress, protecting your relationship from the public eye. but jude's friends and teammates follow you, and the internet is starting to catch on.

genre; smau

face claim: gracie abrams

note; english is not my friend language

request! masterlist!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

footballwags

liked by Judewife, fansofjude, username and others

footballwags real madrid star jude bellingham, who everyone thought was single, was seen so close to an unknown girl. also, in his last game, after scoring the winning goal, he pointed to the stands. is our golden boy already taken?

view comments

judewife i refuse for this to be real

fansofjude that should be me... 💔

username does anyone already know who the girl is?

footballwags we have some suspicions

username is not he allowed to have friends?

username i don't think this is just a friend

username he seems to be very private so don't overwhelm him girls, i'm sure he'll announce it when it's time ❤️

🔒yourusername

lo

liked by judebellingham, trentarnold66, vinijr and others

yourusername we had some fun

view comments

judebellingham i do not want this to ever end

❤️ liked by the author

jobebellingham uh y/n???

yourusername i was talking about our holidays???

vinijr why didn't you invite me?

judebellingham get out

yourusername next time vini!! 🫶🏽

vinijr @yourusername i'll be waiting 🤭

judebellingham it's a couple's holiday 🙄

footballwags

liked by judewife, judebelling05, username and others

footballwags we found the profile of who we think is jude's mystery girl. unfortunately she has her account private but we hope that she will soon accept our request!

view comments

judewife why do you assume is she?

footballwags because not only jude follows her, but also some of his teammates and friends. a lot of coincidence, right?

username if she has her account private it's for a reason, respect her privacy and don't bombard her requests

judefans i need to know what she is hiding in her account 😭😭😭

username fr, i'm so curious now

username will she have unpublished photos of Jude?

username of course she have

username manifesting that she makes her account public ✨✨✨

username you guys are making such a fuss about something we're not even sure about

username shut up

🔒yourusername

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, trentarnold66 and others

yourusername my boy

view comments

judebellingham my girl

❤️ liked by the author

trentarnold66 aww look at them, they make me sick

judebellingham 🙄🙄🙄

yourusername 😂😂😂

vinijr i see why you canceled our guys date

rodrygogoes just a liar

judebellingham get a girlfriend and we'll talk then

yourusername i didn't force him to stay, i swear 😂

rodrygogoes @yourusername don't worry, we know what he is like

seeing all the comments on social media made me reflect on my relationship with jude. we've been dating secretly for a while now, but i know how eager he is to share our love with the world.

i've always been quite private, just like jude. however, there have been times when i've wanted to shout from the rooftops that I'm with jude bellingham.

"do you think it would be wise to make my Instagram public?" i asked him, caught off guard by my own question.

he looked surprised. ‘why are you asking me that? i'd love to tell the world you’re my girlfriend, but if you're not comfortable making your account public, don’t feel pressured to do it.’

‘what if i do want to? maybe it’s time to show everyone you’re taken and put those other girls out of the picture.’

he chuckled and kissed my forehead. ‘i’ll support you no matter what you decide.’

instantly, i posted my first public Instagram post.

i knew that just as good things would come, bad things would also come, but i was willing to face it with Jude.

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, footballwags, judefans and others

yourusername welcome

view comments

judebellingham you are beautiful, have they told you that?

❤️ liked by the author

yourusername my boyfriend usually does it daily

username their interactions 😭

username she is so pretty omg

username I already saw all her posts 💀

username i love her

username do y'all not realize that she only made her account public to attract attention?

username so what?

username it's because of people like you that she had it private in the first place.

username she seems nice and gets along well with jude's teammates, i'm very happy for him 🫶🏽

yourusername posted a story;

[caption; who is this beauty?]

judebellingham you didn't post this...

yourusername sorry my love

vinijr 😂😂😂😂

judefans LMFAO 🤣

username judeee??? 😭

footballwags

liked by judefans, username, y/nandjude and others

footballwags our mystery wag finally made her account public! we wish her and Jude the best 🫶🏽

view comments

username she's not so pretty

username nobody asked you

username can you fight jude???

username how long have they been dating?

username people say that since last year

footballwags that's correct

username we don't know much about her but i already love her

judebellingham posted a story;

[caption; my fan n1]

[thinemoonshine]

୨♡୧ "𝔀𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝔂𝐨𝐮 𝓶𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝓶𝐞?" ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x ot7 content(s): enha are either supportive or not at all, (y/n) accepting the proposals—earning objections, a tinge of jealousy(?), dramatic jake, playful jay, sunghoon is NOT playing type: oneshot(s) word count: 2.3k

this work is based of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚synopsis: (y/n) sees a fan’s marriage proposal and she accepts just for the fun of it but her willingness evokes mixed reactions from her dramatic teammates ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

“sunghoon’s gonna be a bit late because of his schedule so it’s just me and (y/n) for now,” heeseung explains briefly after starting the live with the aforementioned girl.

the two make small random conversations in the meantime and even end up making ramen cups—a permitted late night snack since they have the next day off.

“‘heeseung, you’re so handsome and cute,’” (y/n) reads a comment and turns to him with a smirk when she sees him already wearing a smug grin. she turns back to the camera. “his ego is getting bigger by the day because of you guys.”

heeseung scoffs a retort. “oh, you’re just jealous. engene is just showing love.”

“i never told them to stop,” the other defends, hands raised to her chest. she then stares at the screen again to read comment after comment, some mentally and some verbally when one catches her eye. “‘(y/n), will you marry me?’”

now it’s her turn to wear a smug grin as she gives a knowing look to the lens. with a playful tilt of her head, her rosy lips part in an equally kittenish manner. “sure.”

“ohh~” heeseung sounds while turning to her, a grin forming before he chuckles. “you’re getting married now, huh? you haven’t even told the other members. they’re gonna be upset.”

(y/n) snickers, playing along his script. “i can just get married in secret.”

“oh?” hee sounds and a smirk forms. “i don’t think so. you can’t hide something this big from us.”

“i can, though.”

her stubbornness only ignites his urge to win and he scoffs.

“then, i object.”

“huh?? you can’t object my wedding!” (y/n) argues at his sudden declaration and he only retains his sneaky mien—knowing full well that his opinion and thoughts matter a lot to her since he’s the oldest, even when she doesn’t realise it.

heeseung shrugs languidly and bottom lip sticks out mockingly. “well, if you’re going to do some secret wedding without us then i think it’s going to be a problem. we practically raised you.”

“…tch.”

her little sassy noise makes him stifle a chuckle and he pats her head as if trying to tame an angry kitten.

“you’re not leaving us just yet, (y/n).”

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

(y/n) skips across the stage to go to jongseong, waving ecstatically at the fans who are watching occasionally. jay smiles seeing her hop to his side as he sings his line flawlessly.

when the two aren’t singing, they’re interacting with fans—waving, posing, and even jabbing at one another to show their harmonious relationship with one another.

(y/n) however, spots a very noticeable signboard designed with white frills and even a pair of mini bells stuck on the centre upper page of it. below them, the question, ‘WILL YOU MARRY ME, (Y/N)?’ is bolded and hard to miss.

she laughs at the sight, making the fans scream and cheer as she points at the proposing fan before giving a thumbs up. the fan practically vibrated on their spot at being acknowledged.

“a proposal?” jay then asks after seeing her gestures and (y/n) grins cheekily.

“yeah. look at the sign, they designed it so well,” she admires. both of their mics down to their sides so their conversation remains private.

jay stares at her momentarily, watching as she interacts with more fans before turning to the one who proposed—his arms crossing one another to make an ‘X.’

(y/n) catches and nudges him by the arm. “hey! don’t object my marriage!”

the man chuckles, laughing it off. “no, i’m going to keep going to~ they’ll have to talk with us first if they want to get married with you~”

“this isn’t a serious thing,” she scoffs with amusement at hearing his squeaky, nosy tone he uses at times and shakes her head. “but you’re still going to be the mc for my wedding though, right?”

jongseong stares at her once more, eyes shifting between hers before a grin of mischief forms. “nope.”

this earns him a playful kick to which he runs away to—not without looking back at her ‘fiancée’ and swiping his hand side to side near his throat to gesture a ‘cancel the wedding’ before pointing to a chasing (y/n) to emphasize her aggressive nature.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

(y/n) and jake are having a duo live with him doing most of the talking and the former reacting. it’s nighttime, she’s tired but she can’t just forego the scheduled session.

“yeah, so (y/n)’s room is actually a bit further away from us in the hotel but she’s always lurking around ours and stealing our food,” jake reports with a grin that widens to show his beautiful set of teeth when he sees her shooting him a glare through the screen.

a comfortable silence engulfs them once more as they read the comments flooding the screen.

“‘(y/n), will you marry me?’” jake thoughtlessly reads as it’s an english question, not expecting anything since the subject is too sleepy to even utter a single word.

so when she replies a short, casual, “sure,” his head whips towards her instantly with eyes wide and lips parted. she reciprocates the stare although, not as intense and dramatic as his.

“what?” she asks, brows knit at his prolonged eye contact.

“i didn’t think you’d accept. are you gonna leave me now?” his question falls from his lips sadly, brows angled downwards at the ends as his eyes stare pitiably at her.

she blinks. once. twice.

“huh?” she sounds, missing portions of his questions due to her drowsiness and jake dramatically turns to the screen like he’s in an episode of ‘the office.’

“guys, (y/n) doesn’t wanna be friends with me anymore. she’s actually leaving me,” he says with an exaggerated sniffle and adding more theatrics by wiping his dry eyes with his index finger.

the girl behind can only furrow while shaking her head at the camera and mouthing, “i don’t know what the man’s talking about.”

jake lets out a pained ‘ack!’ as he clutches his shirt covering his chest. “oh, the agony. the agony!!”

“like he hasn’t accepted marriage proposals before right, engene?” (y/n) scoffs and side-eyes the other blatantly. “he even brought a whole ring.”

jake brings his hands up in defense. “but that’s different!”

“so you can do it but i can’t?” she arches a brow and both of them share a staring contest before he suddenly turns to the camera again.

“guys, she’s actually leaving us. my bestfriend doesn’t like me anymore, she wants to leave us.”

“quit changing the narrative!”

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

“‘(y/n), will you marry m—’ no,” sunghoon firmly objects even before reading the whole comment. “she’s young.”

(y/n)’s brows knit and she stifles a laugh. “you make it sound like you’re that much older. we’re around the same age.”

“no,” he rejects sternly again and faces the camera while she watches their live from a tablet. “guys, (y/n)’s still young.”

and as if intentionally teasing him, the fans quickly flood the comment section with facts.

‘but she can already marry tho.’

‘she’s an adult.’

‘she can still have a fiancée.’

‘they say marrying young is better.’

the girl’s already grinning as she reads through them, cognizant of the protective nature of sunghoon, the brother she never had.

and her theory’s proven right when sunghoon subtly yet visibly clicks his tongue to show his displeasure like when ni-ki mispronounced ‘flower princes’ that one time to something…entirely different.

“you’re finding this funny?” sunghoon asks with a disapproving tone when he turns to a giggling (y/n)—which only makes her giggles evolve to laughter.

“whaaat? it’s not like i can’t get married. they’re not wrong at all, y’know?” she adds fuel to his flame and he sighs exasperatedly.

he doesn’t push the matter further after that. in fact, he’s mostly silent throughout the live with face to the ceiling and hands joint in front of his face like a prayer everytime someone comments the word ‘(y/n)’ and ‘marriage’ in the same sentence.

“wah~ it’s like the whole world wants to marry (y/n) suddenly, huh?” he sarcastically says with a smile that belies his internal discontent but his tone surely sends the message.

(y/n) only grins at the camera but quickly drops it when sunghoon whips his head to her with a thick brow arched.

“why are you smiling?”

“oh, come on! first marriage and now smiling’s a problem too??”

⋆˙𐙚 Y.JUNGWON 𐙚˙⋆

“someone’s asking to marry you,” jungwon tells after reading the proposal from a fan.

(y/n) looks up from playing with her hoodie’s trim, a bright grin stretching. “really? you want to marry me?”

jungwon stares at the comment section, watching it flood with people’s abrupt proposals to her suddenly. “wah, there’s a lot.”

“hmm~ let me think about it,” she hums with a finger on her chin. “what do you think, leader-nim?”

“me?” he asks back with brows raised and eyes round. her nod urges him to continue. “um… maybe? i don’t know. but then, how about the other fans that you don’t marry?”

she gasps hysterically, hand flying to her mouth. “you’re right! i love allll engenes~!!”

making finger hearts, she then blows a flying kiss to the screen which calls upon the fawning fans and jungwon chuckles at the effect.

“we love all engenes~” jungwon sings too, joining her as he makes a half heart on his left cheek which automatically makes (y/n) make a half heart on her right. they hold their faces side by side to complete the shape as they giggle.

“i did good, didn’t i?” won then asks quietly while still posing for the camera. (y/n) hums questioningly. “if i let you accept a proposal like that, hoon hyung would’ve given me an earful.”

the two snicker at this which lead to fans making edits with the clip—some trying to crack the puzzle on what they were talking about that’s so funny while some others are shipping them and making groundless romantic assumptions.

at the end of the day, jungwon ends up getting told off by sunghoon anyways.

⋆˙𐙚 K.SUNOO 𐙚˙⋆

sunoo stretches his microphone to (y/n) to let her sing in it while she does the same to him. both of them are smiley and giggly as they perform—radiant even in the dark stadium that’s only being lit up by their stage and the fans’ lightsticks.

as the two walk across the stage to interact with fans, he spots an interesting signboard which makes his clap his hand like a seal. eyes upturned to crescents, he pats the girl’s shoulder before directing her focus to his object of amusement.

‘(y/n), will you marry me?’ is written on a manila card with a cutout of her face next to it and glowsticks stuck to the edge of the page.

the female idol brings her hands to her mouth, acting all surprised and nodding vigorously to which the fan shrieks ecstatically at.

“ya, i better be your best man. i practically brought you guys together,” sunoo says with lips slightly jutted as he eyes her up and down—already accusing her of not going to do so without her even saying anything.

(y/n) cackles at this as she bobs her head again, at sunoo this time. “of course, you are! you can even be the one to help me choose my makeup look.”

he squeals at this before they high-five one another. they then turn to the others—rushing over once they realise they got too immersed in their conversations. hand in hand, they dash with hair flying back like capes in the wind and laughter ringing in each other’s ears even when the in-ears muffle them a tad bit.

the realization of (y/n) one day marrying, of one day separating from him imbues a heaviness in his chest. will that mean there won’t be any more ‘make-up’ fun times? or duo skincare nights?

sunoo’s grip tightens at the thought but still, the smile on his face remains.

he’ll worry about that when they cross that bridge.

⋆˙𐙚 N.RIKI 𐙚˙⋆

ni-ki’s the first to see it—the colourfully decorated board among the crowd with ‘(y/n), will you marry me?’ brightly written on the surface. and his first instinct? make sure (y/n) doesn’t see it.

“ki!” (y/n) calls gleefully as she dashes to him. he smiles that boxy grin of his and a chuckle escapes at seeing her hair jump and wiggle.

riki’s hand pats her head before it gets pushed away by the girl.

“you’ll ruin my hair,” she grumbles and immediately starts smiling and singing to the fans as her line comes in.

slowly rotating in her spot, she makes sure to wave at the audience on every side and that’s when riki realizes she’s going to spot the board. for some reason, he doesn’t want her to.

(y/n) finishes her line and riki’s is next. she turns to him to watch but instead finds herself in a headlock and struggling to get free.

fans scream at their interaction as riki continues to keep her captive in his arm, ignoring her attempts as he happily sings—only letting her go when her back’s turned to the proposal.

“you’re in for it now! hairstylist unnie is going to scold you!” she threatens as she touches her hairdo, making sure it’s still intact. riki snickers, a rectangle grin worn as his brows raise and shoulders shrug.

he emits a prolonged shout, barely raising his voice when she starts chasing after her with her bobby pin in hand.

“ya!! get back here!!” she commands but can’t help letting out a laugh while riki easily slips away with the use of his long legs—eyes glancing at the board before a smirk appears.

‘not today, fan.’

his brief distraction allows her to catch up but his swiftness makes him able to spin just in time for her to crash against his chest.

holding her nose, she hisses before her eyes widen at the faint foundation marks on his shirt. gasping aloud, she clasps her mouth.

“i’m going to get scolded by stylist unnie!” she dreads to which riki snickers at.

as dramatic as it is, riki doesn’t want to hear what her answer to that proposal is. not now, not ever. not when it’s for that fan, anyways.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 this turned out longer than i expected :0 if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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