#god this was too long and all over the place I'm SORRY

[love-and-monsters]

intrigued by the concept of "harem manager", please tell me more!

Okay, so the idea comes about from looking at species that have harems in real life- specifically ones that have female mimics. The idea is that while an alpha male looks significantly different from females and will drive off other males from mating with them, a beta male looks much more similar to the females. They just kind of insert themselves into the harem and mate with the females (and sometimes the alpha males!) surreptitiously.

My thought was, as the species evolved and moved toward intelligence, it would be harder and harder for the beta males to actually trick the alpha males. As language and communication evolved, there would be a lot more social knowledge about who's in what group, and I just don't think it would be feasible for beta males to fly under the radar forever. Instead, these beta males would make themselves useful to the alpha to avoid getting kicked out.

In the way distant past, beta males would sort of appoint themselves as harem keepers. They would be the ones to make sure the ladies in the harem were taken care of, groomed, fed, and made comfortable. They would also sometimes act as spokesmen for their alpha, talking him up to entice other ladies into the harem. In return, they would be allowed to have children of their own, though typically less often than the alpha. This reproductive strategy ended up allowing alphas to have larger harems, maintain larger swathes of territory, and successfully raise more children, and allowed the beta males to live relatively protected lives with guaranteed children in the future.

In more modern society, beta males (known typically as gynomorphs) are appointed to larger harems as harem managers. Their role is pretty much the same as it was in the past- ensure the happiness and harmony of the harem. Sort out fights, ensure everyone is treated fairly, and make sure the ladies of the harem are kept comfortable. A harem manager often acts as something of a combo between a head servant (in wealthy families, it's his job to manage the servants who interact with the harem, in less wealthy families he might take on the role of a servant himself) and counselor. If any of the ladies in the harem have an issue, they're encouraged to go to him first, so see if he can sort it out.

The gender breakdown is about 60% female, 30% male, and 10% gynomorph, so not every harem has a manager. Gynomorphs as individuals tend to have a lot of individual social mobility (even someone born to a poor family will often live a generally good life, since wealthier people have larger harems and more often need a manager, so any halfway competent gynomorph will often get snapped up into one of these families) but they had no ability to socially move their families. In the specific society I've created, gynomorphs don't take on family names and just take the family name of whatever harem they manage, so they can't elevate family statuses.

Gynomorphs who don't have harems often struggle. They tend toward hospitality positions, since it's considered 'appropriate,' but most of those who take those positions tend to have harems and work on the side to make extra money for their families. The issue is that gynomorphs who don't have harems are seen as either incompetent (they screwed up their job bad enough to get fired, something that's hard to do unless you REALLY fucked up due to the relative rarity of gynomorphs) or deviant (they aren't in a harem so they don't want a harem position, which is typically seen as selfish at best or perverted at worst, if they're engaging in romantic relationships).

Whether or not gynomorphs and males of the same harem are related varies society by society. They often aren't, though it's not uncommon for cousins to be paired up as teenagers in wealthier families. Some societies consider it unusual but not worth remarking on if the gynomorph and male of a harem are siblings. Other societies consider it basically the same as incest.

I could talk more on the physical differences between gynomorphs and males, but I think this is long enough. People can ask if they want more details in that realm! Anyway, I'm just into the dynamics at play here. I think it's cool.

[blbyena]

boyfriend!mark x reader

Fluff - 1,128 words

(Slight cursing )

-

You pretend to flirt with the pizza guy on the phone...

Inspired by this tiktok

It’s one of those perfect nights where all you want to do is stay in with Mark, relax, and enjoy a quiet evening. The week’s been long, and the idea of ordering pizza and watching a movie together sounds like the perfect plan.

You're lying next to mark mindlessly playing with his fingers when suddenly he breaks the silence.

“Baby, can you order the pizza tonight? I’m feeling lazy,” Mark says, his voice a little raspy from rehearsals.

You smile, grabbing your phone with a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you pretend to dial the pizza place, you can already feel the fun bubbling inside you. Mark is sprawled out on his bed, and goes back to scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of what you’re about to do.

After a few seconds, simulating to wait for the ringtones , you put on your most playful tone. “Hi! I’d like to place an order for delivery, please,” you say, sounding sweet and casual.

You start listing the pizzas, but can’t help yourself. “Oh, and can you add a little extra cheese? I love it when people go the extra mile,” you ask sweetly, glancing over at Mark, who’s starting to look a little suspicious.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. “Why are you talking like that?” His voice is low, almost whispering.

You keep it casual, trying to act like nothing’s wrong. “What? I'm just ordering,” you say annoyed and go back to pretending a conversation between you and the pizza guy.

“Oh my god, yes this is her. How did you remember me?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, and his body shifts as he straightens on the bed. His tone goes from calm to something a little more annoyed. “Are you talking to a friend?”

You smirk, enjoying his jealous reaction way too much. “Yeah the employee there, he’s nice to me. Told me I have a cute laugh last time I ordered,” you tease. “He even offered me free pizzas last time!”

Mark gets closer now, his gaze becoming sharper as his jealousy grows. “He said that?” His voice is laced with an edge, and you can see the possessiveness taking over.

You can’t resist pushing it further, your voice getting even more giggly. “Yeah, it's been a while, still with my boyfriend” you add with a cheeky smile, glancing at Mark to see how he’s reacting.

Mark’s face goes from confused to full-on jealousy. He walks over to you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something else. “What do you mean "still with my boyfriend"? He asks about that???”

You giggle, loving every second of this, but then you drop the bomb. “Oh, sorry, it’s just my brother bothering me again,” you say casually, as if nothing’s wrong, then continue with a laugh, “He’s always annoying me.”

Mark freezes, his eyes going wide as he stares at you. “Wait—your brother?” he repeats, disbelief in his voice.

That’s when he snaps. In one quick move, he snatches the phone out of your hand, his jealousy and frustration boiling over. “Who the fuck are you telling that I'm your brother ” he asks, voice tight with both confusion and disbelief.

He brings the phone closer to his ear, ready to argue with whoever was flirting with you....but the line is silent.

Mark looks at you confused before everything clocks in.

You can’t hold back your laughter any longer and start giggling uncontrollably. “You should have seen your face!” you say, still laughing at the expression on his face.

Mark glares at you, jaw clenched. “I was seriously gonna go crazy” he mutters, looking a little hurt, but mostly relieved. His voice softens. “You’re so mean…” he says pouting.

You pull him into a hug, feeling a little guilty now, but you’re still laughing. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” you say, but he’s not having it.

But Mark doesn’t respond right away. He’s still sulking, avoiding eye contact, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. You can tell he’s upset, and it’s kind of cute in an annoying way.

You decide to keep playing around, your playful nature taking over. You lie down next to him, resting your head on his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Come on, baby, don’t be mad,” you say, planting small, teasing kisses on his neck and cheek.

Mark tries to ignore you, but you can feel him smiling as you kiss him. “Stop it,” he mutters, pushing you away. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

You giggle and shift, moving closer, planting another kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself,” you tease, giving him one more kiss before nuzzling your face against his chest.

Mark groans in frustration, trying to push you away, but you keep crawling closer, your lips pressing against his neck as you whisper, “Come on, don’t be mad at me anymore. You know I’m just teasing.”

He sighs dramatically, clearly not able to resist your affection. “You’re lucky I love you,” he mutters, a little grin tugging at his lips as you continue to kiss him, determined to make him smile.

Mark shakes his head, but you can tell the sulking is finally over. “You better not prank me again,” he warns, his voice still a little gruff, but there’s a playful sparkle in his eyes now.

“Promise,” you say, wrapping your arms around him tightly, knowing full well you’ll probably think of another prank to tease him with soon.

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' LONGING ,,

|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warnings: hurt/comfort, this is so self indulgent

|| word count: 0.8k

It had been around 2 weeks since Keigo left for his mission. He had told you that he was coming back in a week and a half. You were worried sick for him, pacing around your shared living room as you constantly checked your phone. Though, you knew Keigo wasn't allowed to use his phone on these missions, it'd be too much of a risk. Undercover missions, y'know?

It didn't make it easier, of course it didn't. When the two of you got married, you knew what you were signing up for. You knew that he'd be gone for weeks on end. That his hero work wouldn't be sympathetic towards your relationship.

He'd come home at late hours of the day, leave when daylight barely breaks. It was heart wrenching. And you didn't know what to do but worry. Ah, well, let's hope he'll be home by tomorrow. It was already 2 AM, if he was home he'd probably kill you if he knew you were up at that time. That damn hypocrite.

You changed into your pajama's, it was the matching set that Keigo INSISTED on getting. It was the stupid, childish pj's that had llama prints on the bottoms while the top had some cheesey llama pun. God, it was so stupid.

You climbed into bed, hiding underneath the fluffy comforter that Keigo had hated, yet you absolutely loved it. He claimed his wings were warm enough, which was true. But now that he was out, you needed the comforter. Yet all you could think of was the fact you wanted that stupid fucking bird man to wrap his arms and wings around you.

You closed your eyes, hugging your fluffy pillow, nuzzling your face into it. Pretending as if it was Keigo. God, what did that man do to you?

.

.

.

You had drifted to sleep, your dreams filled of nothing but a dark void as a small creak came from your balcony. Heavy boots against the smooth tile as Keigo made his way through the living room. He hadn't received terrible injuries, thankfully, only a few cuts and bruises, allowing him to fly home, quick and easy. He threw off his jacket on the couch and kicked his boots. He'll deal with your lecturing tomorrow.

Silently, Keigo made his way through the hall up to your shared bedroom. As much as he hated being in his hero costume, he desperately needed to cuddle with you in bed. He'll change in the morning. He needed his spouse.

He climbed into bed, pushing the comforter away and pushing your back flush against his chest. His wing over the both of you, acting as a blanket. Keigo let out a small sigh as he pushed his face into your hair, memorizing your smell. Oh, how he missed this.

"Kei?" Your voice felt like a whisper in the wind. Something that couldn't be heard even by the sharpest of ears.

"Shit, I'm sorry for waking you, baby" You turned to face him. A small smile on your face as you put your forehead against his own. Your hand reaching up to feel his scratchy stubble.

"Don't apologize for waking me up.."

"I'm sorry, love"

He placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. A small smile spreading on his face when he did. How sweet you were, your lips as sweet as honey and as soft as a cloud that Keigo would fly in. Oh, how he would trade the skies to kiss you a million times over. He'd trade everything just to stay with you everyday.

"How was-"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Keigo pushed his face into your hand, placing gentle kisses on your hands. "just wanna be with you.. Don't wanna think about-"

You placed another kiss on his lips, your eyes filled with love and affection as he looked over at you. What was he even talking about?

"It's okay, love," You reached over and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling him close, as if you were trying to meld yourself to him. "I'm glad you're home, I've missed you."

With a shakey breath, Keigo wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into you as his grip on your shirt tightened. The days he would come home were always the best, yet also the worst. He could have prevented the hurt, the longing, if he had stayed home. If he had stayed with you.

"I missed you so much, my love, God.. All I thought about was you.." His voice was barely above a whisper as you hugged him. At these times, he acted as if you were a precious treasure that he desperately did not want to let go of. Well, you were a precious treasure. To him, at least. "I'll stay home tomorrow. I promise, my songbird, I promise, I-"

You pushed his face away from you, his face cupped between your hands as you gave a soft smile. "It's okay, Keigo.. I promise, I'm okay."

"I love you."

You let out a small chuckle.

"I love you too, Keigo"

|| chat idk wtf came over me but i was feeling sad and i wanted keigo SIGH!

[konigsluv]

SMITTEN!Higuruma x Reader

Smitten!Higuruma loves all the moles over your body, so he spends each night kissing them- no matter how long it takes or how sleepy you are...

contains: fem!reader, affectionate kisses, body worship, m!masturbation, tired reader

"tired tonight?" your husband asks, lazily running his hand up your forearm. You manage a small nod against the pillow, lifting your hand and running your fingers through his soft black hair.

"yeah, long day at work," you mumbled, and he hummed in response, his dark eyes flickering over your face before moving to your neck.

Hiromi leaned his face forward, his lips pressing against a mole on your neck, "so beautiful..." he murmurs against your skin before trailing his lips down to the base of your neck.

"not tonight Hiromi," you sigh, brows pulling together as you grab his locks and pull his head away from your neck. He looks up to your face and cocks his slightly, despite your exhaustion a familiar hot feeling stirs in your stomach. It was his eyes, it was always his eyes. Downturned, and so sexy when he looks up at you...

"I won't, just let me kiss you," he responded, a slight pout on his face as he slides your hand off of his head, "you know I love you," he slides his hand onto your waist before slowly moving your shirt up.

Of course, you almost forgot about this nightly routine of him kissing the little moles scattered all over your body.

"make it quick, or i'm kicking you to the couch," you nab and a quick huff of laughter came from his nose. His nose, you liked that too. Probably your favorite feature of his apart from his eyes. So big, and hooked. God, you loved riding it-

No- not tonight, you needed sleep.

"fine, as long as I get to worship you," Hiromi hums before lowering his head and pressing light kisses to your stomach. A light pink dust coated your cheeks when he spoke and kissed you like that.

Your hand met his hair again and he closed his eyes, reveling in your touch and his lips kissed each little dot on your stomach before moving up your torso. You also close your eyes, your exhaustion finally hitting your body with his relaxing touches.

Hiromi kisses between your breasts, up to your collarbone, then over your shoulder. His hair brushed against your skin, tickling you and making goosebumps flood your skin. Hiromi simply rubs them away gently with his warm hands.

He brushes his nose against your skin as he trails his lips down your arm, "perfect," he whispers against your skin and a soft breath left your lips, "everything about you is perfect," your heart swelled by his words.

He moved down on the bed, grabbing your ankles and spreading your legs. Your eyes open and you shot him a warning glare.

"i'm only admiring, dear," he reminds you, almost cockily as he lowers his head and presses more kisses to your calf before moving to your inner thighs.

You ignore the repeated heat that overcomes your lower abdomen and lean your head back into the pillow.

Hiromi knew what he was doing to you though. It was so obvious from the cute twitch or spasm of your thigh muscles when he got a little too close to your panty line.

Before he knew it his tongue flicked out, tasting your skin right at the junction of your thigh.

"mm," your eyebrow twitched and your stomach sucked in slightly, "I told you, i'm too tired," you whine and he sighs, his hot breath fanning across your covered-up core.

"m'sorry, got carried away," he replies lazily, not even sounding sorry, "I won't go further, so just lay there and look pretty for me hm?"

Confused but too lazy to wonder what he was going on about now, you just lay there with your eyes closed as he kissed the moles down your thigh again.

Though, you heard a slight hitch in his breath and it gradually got heavier over the course of a minute before you lift your head and open your eyes.

By then, one of his hands had wrapped around your thighs, holding it in place as he brushed his soft lips over your skin. Now he had his cock out, his hand moving up and down his throbbing shaft.

"'romi?.." you blink, still slightly confused as his eyes glance up at you, even more sunken and slightly narrowed. Shit, you could feel wetness pooling in your underwear.

"not-not touching you," he managed to get out with a strained voice before groaning softly right after. He squeezed his cock before lowering his hips and pressing it against the sheets, "shit," he breathed, pressing his cheek against your leg and closing his eyes.

"I love you, I love you, ngh, so much," Hiromi breathed, rutting the tip of his cock against the mattress while quickening the pace in which he jerked off.

"I love you too..." you mumble, your eyes trained on his cock as it leaked pre-cum onto the sheets.

"ah, again, tell me again," he blubbers quickly, pressing his face harder into your thigh as his hand moved- desperate for release.

"I love you, baby," you said quietly, reaching down and running a hand through his hair, pushing it back so you could see his eyes more clearly. Hiromi looks up at you again before his eyes fluttered shut, "feels good, l-love you,"

"...yeah," you were too zoned out on his face to actually process his words and before you knew it he was trembling. Hiromi's face contorted as he clenched his teeth, his eyebrows knitting together and shutting his eyes tightly. A guttural grunt came from his throat as his hips faltered against the mattress.

"ugh, y-yes," his jaw hung slack, drool dribbling from his lips onto your leg as he came, white ropes of his cum shooting out and staining the sheets. With a couple more strokes his cock finally stopped twitching and he slumped between your legs.

"that was... intense," you said, propping yourself up on your elbow and looking down at the mess he made.

Hiromi lifts his head, "i'm tired," he mumbled, moving to lay down beside you and you then glare at him, "don't think your going to bed like this-" you snap, pointing to the cum on the sheets, "-clean it up, now!"

He frowns but of course, rolled you over and stripped off the sheets. You closed your eyes, cheeks flushed and still fuming, but the anger was mixed with arousal,

and you couldn't deny it.

Masterlist

please do not post on any platform without my permission

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED

[quitealotofsodapop]

Lmk au idea.

Wukong isn't MK's teacher. At least, not in the same way he is in the show.

In this idea I had randomly pop into my head I'm thinking that Wukong had gone above and beyond simply vanishing for 500 years and hiding out on FFM. He straight up changed his identity and went into hiding as a mortal. He says fuck off to being a demon god, fuck off to all the gods and celestials and all his titles. He retires, fully and completely, passing his crown off to his Stalwarts and just becomes a wanderer traveling around, doing odd jobs and never staying in one place too long.

At some point over the centuries he ends up back in the village that he left his staff in, or rather, whay it became. A sprawling metropolis of a city that a person trying to disappear can easily do so. He set up shop, having had many hats over the years he's able to easily pick up a humble job nobody would blink twice at. Mechanics are always sorely needed in large cities after all.

One day at his shop a hauntingly familiar fave appears at his doorstep. Pigsy's truck had broken down while he was out with baby MK on a supply run and Wukong's shop had been the closest mechanic they could find. Wukong could sense something was special about MK, but not what or why and after he fixed up the truck he spent the next hour or so reminding himself that he is not Sun Wukong anymore, he is not part of that life anymore. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wukong's mechanic work was something Pigsy liked, a lot. The truck was running smoother than if ever did before and the price was a steal! Wukong quickly became the favorite mechanic shop for Pigsy's Noodles and MK began to show up more often at the mechanic shop (he crashed a lot of stuff ok). Wukong ends up becoming the cool mechanic dude who helped teach MK how to mod his hoverboard and would often drop cryptic but helpful advice to the kid, Wukong having settled with the idea that he can look after the kid at least since it doesn't look like Zu Baijie's decendant or the kid were going to go away anytime soon. This led to meeting Tang and Mei, which were... experiences. And Wukong just ends up being a family friend to the Noodle Gang who likes cold vegetarian noodles.

Then a Hero is Born happens. Wukong hadn't been there for that experience. He was "on a supply run" when DBK was freed, he was in a different town entirely. So he wasnt physically present when MK became the Monkie Kid. It doesn't mean he wasn't completely uninvolved, though. Wukong isn't stupid, he knows DBK would eventually be freed, and he also knew it was possible someone else would pick up his staff. Afterall the staff had chosen him, not the other way around. It isn't unfeasable to imagine it'd pick another now that it's owner has put it down. Plus it isn't entirely impossible to imagine whoever it is would seek him out, he was the last known person to wield the Ruyi Jingu Bang after all.

He left a series of visions and astral projected recordings in his cave. The first being triggered should anyone breach his cave, the vision MK first sees when he enters Water Curtain Cave, only it doesn't stop at Wukong just running off. The projection speaks.

Wukong's recording. Looking as laid back and amused as can be: If you're seeing this, congrats! You got past my unstoppable barrier! Unfortunately I'm afraid that you won't be able to find me, as I would have been long gone from this place and am retired! So if your here for an autograph I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave.

MK: WHAT!?

Wukong's recording, becoming serious and almost sad: If you are a friend, however. I want to say I'm sorry, but please don't go seeking me out. I am hanging up my crown and title as the Great Sage and the Monkey King, and I don't not wish to be disturbed. Over the centuries I've come to realize my whole life I've done nothing but hurt the people I care about, so... for everyone's sake... I'm disappearing so that I can't hurt anyone again. Ever. And if you find my staff, I'm sorry I can't be there to help you. But I'll give you a piece of advice I learned, believe in yourself. Even just a smidge can make all the difference.

MK is gobsmacked at the thought that Sun Wukong had just up and left like that, that he's been gone for a long time and won't be able to help. He decides if Wukong wasn't there to be a hero anymore, he'd do it for him. Just a smidge makes a difference, right?

And so the Monkie Kid becomes the Monkie Kid. Over the next season or so he struggles a lot with his powers, not having a proper mentor. See, unlike the rest of the Noodle Gang, since Wukong wasn't physically present when MK became the town hero he isn't ever explicitly told it's MK. MK literally just forgets to mention it to him, but he does his best to help where he can. Giving advice where he can.

Most everything else was done without his input, altho MK did find it weird that the Calabash seemed to think his mechanic friend was the Monkey King. It's the first hint he ever has that Wukong was not as he seemed, but he write it off as him simply thinking of Wukong as a mentor figure since he's always been supportive and gave helpful advice and the Calabash substituting the Monkey King for Wukong.

Even the Macaque episode was done mostly without his input, altho a certain black furred monkey was not happy that his attempt to lure Wukong out didn't work at all. Wukong had been busy with renovations to expand the shop at the time, thus where the "step into the strike" advice came from since MK had been helping Wukong with tearing down the wall.

The big reveal about Wukong being the Monkey King only happens during Revenge of the Spider Queen, when Wukong has no choice but to step in as the Monkey King. And believe me, he is absolutely not happy about the matter. He doesn't run away once everything is done and over, but it's very clear that he is upset by the way he avoids everyone and jsut sits curled up on the rooftop. When asked why he never told them, especially knowing MK was using his staff, he first points out MK had never explicitly told him about the whole Monkie Kid business so he had no reason to "know" anything about it. Then he jsut points to the destroyed city.

Wukong: This is what happens everytime the Monkey King appears. Destruction, death, and chaos. I didn't want to be that anymore.

This spun off from a convo on how Wukong likely felt abandoned by his mentor(s), beginning with Subodhi, the allies he made in Heaven before the war, Guanyin, and even Tripitaka when the monk passed.

Wukong, going by just "Wu", drifting along the centuries living a mortal life. Packs up and leaves whenever conflict or war breaks out, or when people start to get suspicious.

His number one rule? Never get attached. Never again...

He becomes a mechanic (a real "grease monkey" if you will). Although he loves medicine and herbalism, it simply has too many paper trails. Also cars are fun to tinker with and don't talk back most of the time. Less likely to make a connection.

He eventually returns to the village where he lay his Staff down for good. Just seemed right coming up to the 500 year anniversary of one of his biggest regrets. The village has since become a sprawling mega-city, open to humans and demons alike. There he plants his roots.

The biggest shock of his life comes when he sees his brothers faces and souls all over again. Three in new bodies, and one in the same. A certain fish demon had pretended he didnt recognise him, and Wu returned the courtesy - seems he wasn't the only one from the old days to retire.

He wonders if it was the right decision to settle in Megapolis...

Until the day Pigsy knocks on Wu's shop, breathless and carrying a wiggly baby human (?). His food truck had given up the ghost and the cook desperately needed repairs asap! Wu simply couldn't turn him away.

Through the conversation and the repair process, the wiggly baby maybe-human had stared at the monkey demon with absolute wonder. Wu isn't sure why until he overhears the cub blabble something into his father's ear.

MK: "Mon-ken." Pigsy, fond sigh: "No MK, that's not the Monkey King. He just looks like the drawing in your Baba's book." Wu, nearly drops the truck on himself: "Eh?" Pigsy, little embarassed: "Oh! Sorry. The piglet is convinced that you're the Monkey King. My partner researches mythology and stuff, and he fills the kid's head with all sorts of ideas." Wu, rolls out from under the truck with a cheeky smile: "It's no problem. You'd be surprised how often I get mistaken for him! Think its the fur." (*Wu shares a glance at MK, the baby human is still staring at him unconvinced. Wukong makes a unsubtle shush motion and winks - causing the little human to wiggle once more with joy. Pigsy sighs fondly once more, knowing that the boy will most definitely hold this moment dear throughout his childhood*)

With that one chance meeting, Wukong breaks his number one rule; Never get attached.

It's not his fault he fixed the truck so good that Pigsy became a loyal customer! And the pig demon began tipping him with free cold vegetarian noodles. And that the scholar at the shop and him started info-dumping together! And that the little human began seeing him as a beloved uncle...

Oh yeah. Wu is in too deep. Hopefully nothing too chaotic happens within the next few years or so >:3

You can say a certain monkey demon nearly had a heart attack when he learned that someone had finally taken up his Staff - and that it was his little buddy!! Also Sandy is back in the gang, so they can't pretend that they dont know each other for long.

Wu would *like* to step up and reveal himself as the Monkey King to MK - but he feels that would just make things so much worse. The kid's trust in him would shatter immediately. So it's better to leave his projections on FFM to do the physical training, and for Uncle Wu to provide him with much-needed emotional guidance.

Sharing this dm you sent in particular based on the "Macaque" episode cus it's a tasty piece of dialogue:

MK: "Is it really better to focus your power into every attack?" Wu: "Hm, that's a lonely way of thinking. And dangerous. Look at this hammer I use for example, it's strong but if I'm not careful an just bang away at metal, it'd hit hard but it'd cause more damage to myself and the people around me. But if I were to... step into the swing so to speak and not depend on the hammer but rather my own strength, it's easier to control and has less risk of hurting myself."

He had been doing renovations on the wall to expand his business at the time, thus why he was banging at the wall with a hammer.

Eventually the episode ends with Macaque calling desperately out to the battlefield - almost begging for his king to reappear. The shadow monkey is so occupied in his despair and anger that MK manages to slip free and reclaim his power.

MK promptly bullies Macaque into actually mentoring him. Macaque chuckles at the nerve of this kid, and agrees - but only as a truce until Wukong returns. After that, Macaque expects a rematch.

Unironically loving this AU

[deeisace]

..

[moe-broey]

Does anybody wanna grab me by the hair and smash my head into the wall and smash my head into the wall and smash my head into the wall and smash my head into the walland . I could use a little help hwre.

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[softbabybelle]

CORRUPTION𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron 003.

rafe cameron x shy!reader

 𝜗𝜚 summary : rafe has been trying to get you alone for far too long and now that he finally has, he won't give the moment up for anything.

𝜗𝜚 words : 2.3k

𝜗𝜚 c!w : smut, humping, thigh riding, public!sex, finger sucking, risk of being caught, praise kink, kinda degradation kink.

part 1, part 2.

days had passed since the incident with rafe cameron and the boy who's name you didn't wish to remember.

this time, you hadn't gone out of your way to avoid the boy but instead went back to normal, almost as if nothing had happened between you two at all. you sat on the couch of tannyhill, giggling at something on sarah's phone with your legs crossed.

now, that simply wouldn't do.

rafe had been eager for a minute alone with you which seemed almost impossible when his sister was hanging off your side every minute you spent at tannyhill.

he was sitting on the living room couch, the one across from you both, scrolling on his own phone, a finger to his mouth as he gnawed at the completely bitten down nail.

his eyes kept travelling over to you, skimpy little summers dress clinging to your form while the skirt part began to ride up your thighs as you moved against the couch.

dirty thoughts swarmed his head, thoughts that shouldn't be repeated out loud. thoughts that shouldn't have been in his head to begin with.

he thought he was sure to be damned to hell for the things he was thinking.

and then, ironically enough, the gods seemed to smile down on him. it was as if all of his prayers had been answered and every beg and grovel had finally been listened to by an angel.

the angel who's name was wheezie, standing in the living room door frame. "sarah." wheezies hair was a mess, thrown into a bun with loose strands of hair sticking out every which way, she looked tired, so awfully tired and dreadful as she stared forward at her sister who's head instantly snapped up. "please help me. i'm trying clean out my wardrobe but it's too much."

a laugh fell from sarah's mouth. "no way. it's your mess, clean it yourself."

but that was when wheezie's arms crossed over her chest, cocking a brow. "I'm sorry, who covered for you and topper last night?"

"wheezie!" sarah exasperated, glancing out into the hallway. ward and rose were upstairs but sarah still didn't wish for them to hear about the late night activities she'd been getting up to with her boyfriend.

defeated, she turned her head back to you, who was sitting so sweetly on the couch, that same sickly sweet smile crawling up on your features. you liked watching the cameron siblings interact, even if it wasn't always so pleasant, there was something oddly homely about it. "'s okay, sarah, 'm fine down here."

"okay." she sighed, getting up from the couch. "okay, you just―just hang out for a while and i'll be down soon, okay?" she watched you nod. "okay, come on, let's get this over with."

and suddenly, tension ran thick through the air.

it was you and rafe, alone.

his legs were spread apart on the armchair he was seated on, eyes running up and down your body. you seemed to notice your dress riding up and instantly tugged it down with pink cheeks. you swallowed thickly. "I, uhm―i wanted to say thank you." your eyes finally looked up to reach his.

the minute he heard your voice, his phone was turned off and tossed away. his head cocked to the side. "what for?" teasing. for he knew exactly what for.

you squirmed in your place. "for everything you did with max."

"didn't seem too grateful when you ran away, hm?" he didn't mean the bitter words that slipped from his lips. he watched the way you hung your head low, eyes glassing over. instantly, a kind of guilt washed over him and he leaned back further into the chair. "c'mere." and he patted his thigh, watching your eyes flicker down. you glanced out to the hallway and he had to roll his eyes. "'s okay, nobody'll see you. they're all too busy."

you did as you were told, crossing the room and landing in his lap.

there was something so sensational about being in his lap again.

memories flooded your head, pictures and images of you and he, in this same predicament inside his bedroom, his lips tainting yours. you couldn't help but latch your eyes onto his lips.

"you wanna tell me why you keep runnin' away, hm?" you don't answer, eyes searching anywhere but his face. he doesn't allow it, turning you slowly towards him once again. "asked you a question, sweetheart."

you fought words inside your mouth, all threatening to come tumbling out. "was scared." is all he's met with.

"scared of what?" his head dips, his eyes trying to reach yours, trying to look in and gauge your emotions. "scared of me?"

you shook your head, fingers reaching out to trail across the fabric of his sweater. "i... liked it when you kissed me." you admitted and he watched as a blush fell across your face, red reaching the tips of your ears. "i liked it a lot but 'was scared that sarah would find out 'n i don't―"

"sarah doesn't need to know anything." he answers quickly. "besides, who you kiss..." his fingers trailed across your bottom lip, sucking in his own bottom one between his teeth as he gazed down at them, sweet like honey. "is none of her business, yeah?"

you nodded too quickly, too eagerly, too convinced by his words too quickly. "'m sorry, rafe, 'm really sorry."

"think i know how you can make it up t'me." his fingers left your lips and placed themselves against your hips. "you wanna make it up to me?"

"yes, please." came out too swiftly.

he couldn't help but smirk at your eagerness. "'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" and suddenly, you could feel heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. he leaned in, his breaths falling hot against your face, his scent filling your senses. and just as his lips brushed against your own, he whispered. "you gotta promise me something first, 'kay?"

you licked your wet lips. "anything." wanting nothing more than for rafe to lean in and seal the kiss. you'd do anything he ever asked.

"no runnin' away this time." his fingers pinched at your jaw, holding it so your eyes could reach his. "you want this? you take it 'n you don't go pushin' me away again, alright?" a curt nod. "words, princess."

"promise." you spoke quickly. "promise, rafe, please."

his lips quirked.

but he didn't keep you waiting.

when his lips crashed into yours, you were very aware of the fact that you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, the living room door wide open. all it took was for ward or sarah to come down the stairs and they'd see what you'd been up to.

they'd see that you weren't such a good girl after all.

but you couldn't seem to care.

you were too focused on his hot hot lips, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss, hands pinching at your waist, holding you in place.

your mind began to unravel, all you could think about was him. rafe cameron. you were sitting on his lap, kissing him, again. and you swore it was a feeling unlike any feeling you'd ever felt in your entire life. it was making you so desperate, so messy, so wet.

and you were sure he could feel it too. he tugged on your waist, rolling your hips against him.

you let a whimper be swallowed by his mouth.

his lips finally broke from yours for air but he didn't allow himself enough to fully regain his breath before they were latched beneath your jaw, sucking and kissing harshly.

again, he rolled your hips. you weren't sure if it was him moving you or you doing it by yourself now. you could feel him growing hard beneath you, you could feel him pressing himself up against your clothed pussy and all you could think about was how much you needed everything off.

you needed to feel him, skin to skin.

it seemed so close yet stretched so far away.

his hands ran up the skin of your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up as he went. "r-rafe." you whimpered out, head turning to the door. "someone could see―"

"'s what you asked for, isn't it?" his hands were rough against you, tugging the dress upwards, not caring for the family who remained upstairs. "isn't it?"

you swallowed thickly. "yes." you stammered out. "b-but―"

"you still wanna make it up to me, don't you?" his brows knitted together in this false sense of sadness, as if you'd done something awful to the poor man. you'd felt suddenly guilty for even suggesting that you stop.

you felt yourself ease against him, your own brows pinching together. "'m sorry, rafe, swear 'm sorry. i'll do anything, jus' please don't be angry―"

"'m not angry." he assures you, fingers brushing up and down your thighs, inching too high. "jus' need you to do something f'me, can you do that, sweetheart?" you were nodding like a puppy, eager to do anything he would ask of you. he maneuvered you so you were situated on one of his spread thighs and not his lap anymore. "y'gonna rub yourself on my thigh like the pathetic good girl you are, okay?"

you'd never done anything like this before.

suddenly you began to panic. "rafe, someone'll hear 'n―"

"nobody'll hear you, baby, jus' gotta be nice 'n quiet, yeah?" you still looked hesitant, top teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. "would make me feel so good, princess 'n you jus' wanna make me feel good, isn't that right? yeah, baby, jus' wanna make rafe feel good, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

and you don't know how, why, or when but suddenly, you're doing just what he told you.

your hips are stuttering as they move against his jeans, you can feel your panties growing wetter and wetter with every jolt of movement.

rafe doesn't appear to be doing much, hands skillfully moving your hips while he leans back against the armchair.

"there you go, good girl." his cock twitched in his jeans, watching your hesitant, shy face as you moved oh so slowly on his jeans. "lift your hips f'me, sweetheart." you did as you were told, pausing to lift yourself up from his thigh. his hand moved beneath you, tugging your panties to the side and rubbing gentle circles against your clit.

"oh." fell so sweetly from your lips that to anybody else, it would have appeared almost innocent. but rafe was well aware of how dirty you really were.

he landed you back on his thigh, letting you rub yourself against him, this time, it was your bare pussy that ran up and down his jean-clad thigh.

he groaned at the sight of you, free hand coming down to fix his situation that was suddenly growing in his pants. he pulled at the jeans slightly, trying to make his growing bulge less noticeable but there was simply too much to hide.

your eyes cast down to his hand, then to the bulge and you found a little whimper leaving your mouth.

his eyes studied your face, watching you lick your already wet lips and rubbing yourself against him a little quicker. sweet, poor, innocent, you was so turned on by his growing dick. and he could feel it by the dampness of his jeans turning wet hot

you really were filthy.

a particularly loud whine left your lips and rafe realised that perhaps it wasn't a smart idea to start this whole thing off while his whole family was home.

but he couldn't stop now. that'd be cruel. especially seeing how worked up he'd gotten you.

he trailed his fingers up to your lips and tapped on your chin.

you didn't even need to be told, you simply opened up. he stuck his digits right in, feeling your flat tongue against them and spit coating them.

"so filthy, baby." he uttered so softly, as if he were complimenting you. "what'll we do with you, huh?" you only whimpered around his fingers. "'s okay, sweetheart, gonna get that pussy stuffed jus' like you want. just gotta be patient, yeah? can you do that f'me?"

and you're sloppy against his thigh, sloppy against his fingers. you can feel juices rubbing against his jeans and dribble forming at the gaps between your lips and all you can do is not so dumbly.

a stutter of your hips.

a grin on his lips.

"you gonna cum, already, huh?" it didn't take long, but you were already approaching your orgasm. he wished now more than ever that he could take pictures with his mind. that he could frame this moment and pull it out every time his dick got hard. he slipped his fingers out from your mouth. "gotta ask like a good girl before you cum."

your hands pawed at his shoulders. "please, rafe." your mind was turned to mush. "please, please, please."

he shrugged so cruelly. "'m hearin' a lot of beggin' but i don't hear you asking me yet."

"p-please, can i cum?" your face was red hot, embarrassment flooding your features quickly. "please?"

he smirked, leaning back against the armchair and removing his hands from your waist. you were a big girl, you could finish yourself off. "go on, princess."

he watched as your hands pawed at him, hips stuttering and eyes rolling backwards, mouth falling open. it was such a pronographic, filthy scene. and yet, he knew by tomorrow, you'd be prancing around in the same little dress and everyone would see you as the same lovely good little girl that you pretended to be.

and rafe thought that was enough to make him cum in his own pants.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

You’re My Baby Too

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.

First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.

You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.

You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.

"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.

"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.

"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."

“Thank you.” You glared at him.

He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.

When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.

You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.

"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.

"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"

"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."

"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.

"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.

"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."

And boy oh boy was it painful.

When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.

You were sweating.

Crying.

Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.

You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.

"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."

He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.

He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.

Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.

"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.

"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."

When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.

"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.

"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."

"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.

"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"

Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.

He was so perfect. So worth it.

Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.

Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.

He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.

"Lan?"

"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"

"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."

"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."

You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.

"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"

"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"

"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."

"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"

"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."

"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."

"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."

"Lan.." You chuckled.

"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "

"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"

"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.

"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.

"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.

You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.

[acid-ixx]

'cause you're takin' it like a champ, sweetheart !

(nsfw) romantic! yandere conner kent x gn! reader

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ; leaked sex tape post ; other post !

a/n: mdni. purely nsfw. inspired off of @luludeluluramblings. the reader here is gender neutral but is a bottom, so interpret them as any gender as you will! mentions of breeding, oral (giving &. receiving), and overstimulation.

i'm sorry but i just read about the sex tape thing and now i'm shitposting you guys. what if instead of making chapter 6 for my series angsty, i make conner and you have kinky, sloppy, sweat-drenched sex after your first date? what if instead of the batfamily stripping you away of your freedom, conner strips you naked right before one of the secret cameras placed inside the room you're both in, that he's sure records every single passionate movement you both make in bed?

what if instead of you crying from the pain of all the negligence, you writhe and mewl like an overstimulated pornstar as he pounds away all your worries instead??? and if the footage unknowingly gets leaked? holy shit, not only do you possess the title of bruce wayne's infamous bastard child, but you're now also known as a kryptonian monsterfucker who definitely possesses the energy of a bull if it means you could handle bed-breaking sex to the point you're sure anyone from a mile away could hear your bated, snappy breaths and conner's sporadic, non-stop humping into the most pleasurable parts of your body.

cause even if he's half-human, that doesn't take away the fact that he is half-human. he sports features that aren't typical in normal anatomy. this just translates to: less energy is consumed when fucking you, so he could go on and on and on eating his love out, leaving marks for hours whilst simultaneously ensuring that you're probably well-bred (and i hc that it's probably almost exclusive to kryptonians that they cum, a lot) and dripping and feeling full by the end of the night (or day, heaven knows just how long he could go off worshipping your body).

and yes, the leaked sex tape piqued the interest of most curious eyes and it's probably going to be the spectacle for most researchers curious about kryptonian anatomy- but consider this. conner's not the only man obsessed with you. there're some romantic interests out there seething with rage, at the same time nutting and touching themselves to the video and playing it on repeat cause you're taking it like a champ.

unfortunately for them though, you've already been too addicted to the feel of conner spearing you down that you just can't fathom anyone else holding you the same way he does. you love the dichotomy he puts you through (to the point you ignore the red glinting lenses above your body) when he's possessively pinning you to the any fucking surface with his strong arms wrapped around your waist, with no chance of escape, the sensation of his dick penetration in and out in a hasty, yet rhythmic beat. yet despite the harsh thrusts, his hand still find itself to your sweaty forehead to wipe away stray hair, his lips taking its sweet time softly pressing kisses from the crown of your head all the way to your lips.

"good j-job takin' me whole, sweetheart— ah! god, i love you..." he whispers praises with his parched throat on your ears, every syllable enunciated with the thrum of his hips, your legs nearly resting over his shoulder. if not for his breaths hitting the inside of your ears, goosebumps spreading throughout your body, you wouldn't have picked up on the bass of his voice complimenting you.

your grip on his body only tightens, eyes shutting deeper into the near zenith. with just how much you're humping back despite the soreness in your muscles, tears escaping your eyes from pure, unfiltered pleasure, it's as if you're putting on a performance for the whole world to see.

"i— AH! i love you, t-too, kon– baby!" your reply came in the form of a squeal after another of his particularly harsh thrusts from waiting for your response. god, your throat hurts, it's more sore than conner's, taking him in your mouth fully felt like a fever dream, but you could remember the shape of his tip puncturing the back of your throat that it has your body reeling for another mind-blowing orgasm.

the glass of water on the stand beside you both is empty, it's been empty for hours. yet conner's still thirsty, how else would he be quenched from his urge when his previous ministrations of eating you out whilst prepping you to take his dick makes him even hornier? there's something about your body that makes the kryptonian want to memorize every single detail from how you writhe when the piercing in his tongue penetrates a sensitive part of you, and oh, the salty taste of your sweat and tears is heaven for a starving man like him.

shit, the thought of sloppily devouring you whole after he fills you up time and time again would be the cherry on top. overstimulation works pleasures on his sweetheart's body like a charm. he loves seeing the more desperate parts of you begging for more yet telling him to stop at the same time, as your hands still tangle harshly on his hair to keep him in place.

... but for now, he's got to focus on the lack of love marks on the expanse of your body, his vision nitpicking all the places in your skin that he's going to suck hickeys on. it'll definitely be his final piece of the puzzle to show all your other admirers his claim on you.

and the whole world can only bear witness to the artwork he's creating with you.

welp, guess it's just going to be you and conner alone in the room for a while, satiating both your hunger for each other, haha...

— oh, and don't forget the hundreds of cameras placed strategically to record all angles of your bodied fucking like animals!

[cherryheairt]

Hidden Truths pt.2

Cregan x wife!reader

named reader no description, from house Glover

masterlist

part 1

thank y'all so much for the kind words and eagerness to see this part. Please forgive me for not replying to all asks being sent to inbox, you'll understand with the chap lol. The pressure was so real I had planned to write other things between pt 1 and 2 but I dropped everything to do this between work and sleep lol

changed the og ending because so many people thought it would be more fitting and I agreed lol

anon pointed out my mistake on glover and bolton im so sorry for that confusion yall it is meant to be glover originally. i made too many mistakes im a mess rn

Ernest makes it to Cregan's solar first, Ron not far on his heels. Panting, the younger speaks up first when Cregan Stark shoots them a bewildered look whilst hunched over his oak desk.

"Was Lady Stark due for some business today, My Lord?" He asked, catching his breath as Cregan sat up in his seat, attention fully on the guards.

"Not any that I'm aware of. Where is my wife?" He asked, glancing outside of his small window to the blistering storm outside. There was no way she would be anywhere except her chambers—not after he caught her soothing Brandon to sleep. The sight had melted his heart immediately, glad to see his wife finally finding it in her to go see him, to give him a chance.

Though, he could not blame her, of course. He could still remember the day he brought the Stark babe home, and how he dreaded the meet throughout his months of journeying home to Winterfell.

Aelys had been on the forefront of his mind, even through the slimy politicking of King's Landing. The wait was only made ever longer by the fact that the party Cregan traveled North with had to wait until Brandon was old enough to travel, too. Moons went by painstakingly slow, and Cregan moved to load the carriage for the boy as soon as the Maester gave his word that Bran would not be suseptible to the outdoors during long durations on the road.

Cregan dismounted his grey mare, patting her on the neck in thanks before the stable boy guided her back to her designated place. With a tense sigh, he rolled his shoulders and opened the carriage door that held Brandon and his new wet nurse. Sara, his older sister, would join the family in a few short weeks while she continued her stay at the Blackwood's. He wished she was here to console his wife in the coming days. Gods know that he cannot, not when the news of his betrayal had to come from his own mouth. As he promised himself it should be. The sinner should say his own penance, no one else. A Stark is a slave to his oaths.

Thanking Greya kindly, Cregan picked up Bran in his arms. His onyx black curls shifted against the crook of his arm as he shifted the babe to be held better. The four moon-old babe fussed as he was removed from the woman's comforting hold. As if was, Cregan was more of a stranger to the young babe than his wet nurse was. Unfortunately, the Lord had not spent the amount of time with him as he knew he should have. The thoughts and guilt racked up in his mind and burned at the back of his throat every day, leaving Cregan to promise himself that in Winterfell he would spend more time with him.

Another promise for the list.

Cregan stepped through the courtyard's archway, holding his breath as he watched his beautiful wife standing by the Keep's doors, shivering but still insisting that she come out to meet her husband. Her smile was as lovely and bright as he remembered, a much more contented and relieved smile than she had sent him off to battle with. That day, she could hardly stifle her tears back as she hugged him 'goodbye'. He felt quite the same. Cregan would never leave for Southern business again, not in his lifetime. Once had been enough to last generations, though he was sure the Stark family would not go too long before being summoned again.

Her face shifted from joy to confusion in a matter of seconds. As Cregan continued straight towards her, Bran bundled up in so many wools and pelts that it entirely engulfed the babe. She lifted her skirts to step down to meet him. Originally, Cregan had wished to scoop her up in his arms and place a sweet kiss on her cold lips, but the bundle between them prevented such things. He could not greet her so sweetly and then present the bastard to her. Ripping the bandage off a fresh wound, Cregan would not be deceitful for longer than he had been during his moons of silence in the South.

"Husband," She smiled, reaching out to touch his chilled face, pink in the cheeks and ears from exposure. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." She was antsy on her feet, eager to get inside to proper reunite with her husband, no bystanders gawking.

Speaking of bystanders—Cregan's entire party had separated and dispersed around the courtyard. They met their own wives, parents, or children as they laughed and conversed. Though, the loud and joyous clamor soon died down when whispers had been spread around by those who already knew of Cregan's boy. Wives that knew Aelys well stared in pity, clutching their shawls to their chests and shaking their heads quietly at their Lord.

He fought the urge to hang his head.

She had not yet seen the babe, only the cloth surrounding him.

"Cregan?" She whispered, tilting her head with concerned eyes. "What is wrong?" His sweet, sweet wife. Her first priority had been him over anything since the days of their honeymoon—the days she had confessed to be extremely anxious about during their courtship. She was a Northern woman herself, hardened and shaped like an ice sculpture but retaining her warm heart and spirit. Cregan had intimidated her greatly, according to her giggling confession, and she had feared he may be a cruel and selfish man since he could easily do as he wished to his Lady wife. He proved her wrong, apparently, getting to know his wife throughout their private honeymoon. They had a bond like no other, always at each other's side and filling in for the weaknesses of the other during their duties as leaders.

Cregan's brow furrowed deep, blinking away as he felt his nose start to sting.

Only then, when his glossy eyes met hers silently, did she glance down to the cloths. Slowly reaching up a shaky, gloved hand adjusted the pelts so she could peer past them. Gasping at the pale babe, Aelys' eyes sharply met his. A million thoughts raced through her head, clearly showing in her facial expressions. Not assuming the worst, as she probably should have done, Aelys asked, "has one of your men died? Is this babe an orphan?" Always so trusting of her Lord husband, something Cregan had admired and was eternally grateful for throughout their marriage.

"Aelys..." He cleared his throat when his voice came out much too quiet and hoarse. "This is my son." He declared to her, and to the onlooking crowd who did not bother hiding scandalized gasps.

Her eyes blinked in rapid succession, shaking her head lightly and smiling. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son."

His silence met her words. When he did not cave and admit to messing with his wife, Aelys shook her head more firmly. "No." She said, whispering. Her eyes clamped shut as she breathed in and out deeply, only opening to glance down at the babe, scrutinizing its appearing and comparing every freckle to Cregan's. "Don't do this to me, please. You would never do this to me." Her words were nearly lost to the air.

"It was one time, I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan told her.

"On your name?" She harshly bit, stepping away from Cregan as if he had burned her. "Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods. Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—" She gasped out, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and clutching her stomach. A choking sob rippled through her, and Greya stepped forward to gingerly take Brandon from Cregan's grasp. His arms fell to his side, clenching as he stopped himself from holding his wife in comfort. She could find no solace in the man who hurt her so.

"I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too. Was it just not me you wanted a family with?" She asked, cranking her neck up to look at her shameful husband.

"Aelys, I did—I do!" He started, stepping forward to wipe a hot tear from her cheek.

Flinching away from his touch, she looked up at him with the same mistrust and solemn acceptance that he found in a dying prey's eyes. Suddenly, Aelys looked to become aware of the crowd. Glancing around self-consciously, she straightened herself upright like the people expected of a Lady Stark. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." She loudly adressed the weary party and their families, who awkwardly moved to shuffle inside the dining hall. With a final glance past Cregan's shoulder to the wet nurse, Aelys was gone.

Seeing the shared glances of horror between the two, Cregan cleared his throat. "Where is my wife, boys?"

Ernest swallowed harshly, not daring to look him in the eye. "She—she said that she 'ad business in Winter Town. That you approved of it, I swear!"

Ron nodded so quickly that his head of curls messed about and framed his face further. The snow still on their heads and shoulders had now melted in the warmth of the Great Keep, reminding Cregan of the harsh weather the guards had to bear all day. They were trained and honed for such conditions, Aelys was not.

"Yes, Lord Stark! We couldn't disobey our Lady's words." He insisted.

"You think I'd make my wife go settle business in Winter Town during a blizzard?" He growled out, standing from his seat and storming between them to his doorway, where he turned on them and saw them both flinch in shock. "Which way did she go?"

"Uhm..." they shared another glance. "She said Winter Town, Lord Stark. What other way would she have gone?"

Cursing, Cregan grabbed Ice and lifted the great sword to his shoulder. He left without another word to anybody, knowing every second counted when it came to finding her. "Bloody fools." He scoffed to himself, mind turning and thinking of places she might head to.

Clearly, not Winter Town. She had no business there, not that he knew of, and although they had not been speaking these past moons he still oversaw all of her duties as Lady. Though, her reports of dealings and responsibilities was done through the Maester rather than her own mouth. A middleman, the poor elder had become. Cregan endured the silence without complaint, knowing his own actions brought it upon him.

His actions brought her further away from him than he perhaps estimated. He knew the babe would tear a rift in their relationship, and knew it would take a long time before they could even begin to mend it—but he never wanted it to go this far.

Back to her childhood home, to the Glovers in the Motte? Or, perhaps she found a secret lover that would meet her in the storm like a destined and tragic fairytale. He would not blame her for seeking love in another, though his never faded.

His quickened pace was only interrupted by Sara. "What is the rush for, brother?" The elder woman asked, dark brows furrowed with concern. Other the past four moons she had gained her strength back, looking the picture of health now that she was back home and recovering. Cregan could barely meet her gaze, looking between her and the doors ahead.

"My wife is gone." He told her honestly, shifting impaitiently in place. "I don't know where to, but I'm going to search for her."

Sara's dark eyes saddened, face scrunching up in grief. "This is my fault. I should have—"

Cregan stopped her immediately, taking her firmly by the shoulders and dipping his neck down to level himself. "No. It is mine alone. I made the choice to do this, I shall face the consequences of my actions."

"Cregan..." she sniffed, but did not allow tears to fall so easily.

"I'll be back." He promised. "With my wife."

Was she running away?

Cregan swung open the Great Keep's door, blinking staggardly at the wind gust that slammed into him. Not bothing to close it behind him, Cregan stormed to the stables and tacked his horse up. In a matter of minutes he was off and out of Winterfell's expansive walls.

His only option was to head towards Glover territory. It was a two days ride normally, but the storm would make it double or perhaps longer. She would not be far ahead, not even two hours ahead of Cregan and unknowing of how close he might be on her trail.

There were not even hoofprints left in her wake. The snow immediately covered all tracks and left only pristine fields of white powdery frost.

He would not know where she was until he spotted her amongst the white. Cobalt, her black stallion, was sure to stand out within close enough distance.

Until he did see her, he could only wait.

And it was exactly that; a waiting game. Cregan took only three days to reach the Deepwood Motte, faster than he anticipated. He was weary and exhausted, but still pumping with adrenaline and awake off sheer will. Here, in the safe walls of Harriston Glover's keep, his mare could finally have more than a few measly hours of rest, as well as food and water.

His fingers and toes burned with the edges of frostbite. Even in his thick protective gear, he was not entirely safe. The few, small fires that he built for himself in the cold nights gave him only a semblance of warmth. Each step felt like five as his vision blurred and weaned in and out. He steadied himself on a pole, waiting for his father-in-law to come downstairs to greet him. And, if luck be on his side, his Lady wife.

He owed more than an apology.

Harriston was a stern man, though not unreasonable. He loved his children and ensured they had only the best; education, caretakers, spouses. His eldest two children married long before Aelys was even of age to be wed, both men marrying Northern girls that they'd grown up with. When it came to his youngest and only girl, the man knew Lord Stark would be a most auspicious match. The Houses had long been friends and allies, and keeping the tradition of partnership thriving through marriage was no strange thing. He'd been even happier when Aelys wrote to him weekly, describing how enchanted she had been with her new husband and thanking him profusely for giving her a blessed match.

Now, the greyed man stood in front of Cregan with a deepset frown and a fierce look in his eyes. "Lord Stark. I thought you'd be busy in Winterfell."

Cregan cleared his throat, focusing on him intently. It made sense that the man was cross with him, especially after he assumed that Aelys had sent him a few lengthy letters telling of Cregan's infidelity. "I came to see my wife, and to bring her back home."

Harriston huffed a sarcastic laugh. "You send her back home, only to come yourself first?" He gestured around with his arms up.

Cregan tensed, "first? Is Aelys not already here?"

Lord Glover matched in his seriousness. "Aelys wrote to me three days ago, informing me that you had sent her here to be away from danger."

"I did not send her anywhere."

"You mean you do not know where my daughter is?" He asked, voice low and firm as he stepped closer. Though Harriston was a fine swordsman and a battle-worn fighter, Cregan did not fear the Lord's wrath, for he could easily best him in combat.

He did, however, have the brains to fear a furious father's vengeance.

His heart nearly beat out of his chest. "And she stated that she was on her way here?"

"I think I know what she said, boy." Lord Glover hissed. "Where is Aelys?"

"She must still be out there," Cregan murmured breathlessly, turning on his heel and running out of the fort's doors and back out to the stables. Cobalt was in none of them, confirmed to him that Lord Glover was not simply lying and hiding his wife away from him.

Cregan decided to take another horse—one well rested and ready to travel in the packed snow, unlike his own weary mare. Guiding it to the doors where Lord Glover had exited and looked at Cregan with a fear unlike the learned man usually expressed, he asked: Where are the kennels?"

When Aelys left to brave the storm alone, she had not anticipated the sheer unforgivable nature of it. Living in the North her whole life, she'd long grown used to cold weather and hunting for herself. Hunts often lasted days or weeks, being times of comraderie and companionship when out in the wilderness with your people. She had not been hunting in years, much less alone.

The snow had slowed her travel significantly and clouded her navigational judgment. North became South, and East became West after so long of walking. With the skies so darkened, it was even harder to tell the time of day. With every stop she made and every fire that burnt out too quickly for her to be fully warm, Aelys had grown desperate.

She found shelter in a half-conscious act to preserve her on life. Now, curled up with only her fur-lined dress and the pelt she had brought from Winterfell, she could not help but begin to accept that she would die in this cave.

Aelys thought of her life in a few curt thoughts.

She had only lived twenty and two years. She grew up with loving parents and two elder brothers who doted on her greatly. She married Lord Stark of Winterfell, someone who took her heart quicker than she'd ever thought possible. She would die here, alone and cold because of him.

She thought of all the things she had wanted from life. Not much, for a Lord's daughter. Aelys had always wanted love and gave love in return. Trusted perhaps too much and did not gain from it. She wished for children, eventually, and could never have them now. She wished to see the warm deserts of Dorne and the lush gardens of Old Town in her retirement.

Aelys Bolton would not see anything but the North, nothing but the cold snow and frost-tippes trees around. They had grown familiar and warm.

Warm.

She was so warm, now.

Aelys closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of better days.

"You do not wish to return home to a babe in the nursery?" Aelys asked, voice low and humming as Cregan lay beneath her on their shared bed. Most men did, misliking the process of pregnacy but loving the outcome, for it could only serve to benefit them.

"We will have plenty of time for babes when I come back to you." He replied, brushing his lips over her the crown of her head. "What kind of husband would I be if I left you to deal with the struggles of pregnancy and birth all alone?"

"I won't be alone. Sara is staying, too. I will have a sister to keep me company and complain all my grievances about my missing husband to her." She said amusedly.

Cregan paused in his rhythmic stoking of her spine. "Sara has asked to come, my heart."

She paused, too, lifting her head from his chest and squinting at him. "Sara can come down to King's Landing with you, but I cannot?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "She will be staying at the Blackwood's residence at Raventree Hall, not King's Landing. I would never endanger either of you by bringing you to the capitol. She has been offered guest housing by her friend, Alysanne Blackwood, during my time down there."

She huffed, conceding to his words and dropping her head back down, listening again to his ever-steady heartbeat. "Must be nice to see the Riverlands." She said lightly. "I hear they have fields of flowers growing year-round."

"And the permanent smell of fish and mildew." Cregan added with a snort. "You're not missing anything, I swear it to you. Sara and I will be gone for a short period of time. I intend to leave as soon as things are settled and put to rest."

Aelys hummed her quiet acknowledgment. There was no argument to be had, not when Cregan was set to leave in the morning. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." She said cheekily, though there was plenty truth to the statement. Alone, she would serve as political head to Winterfell and the temporary 'Warden' while Cregan was missing in action. She had her advisors, consisting of Cregan's trusted councilmen, but the hole that she knew would sink itself into her heart already wore her into her.

Cregan laughed at her words, nodding. "Aye, my love, you will do perfectly. I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I have no doubt you'll do great." He said proudly, kissing her nose. She scrunched it up at the ticklish feeling, allowing a girlish giggle to leave her throat.

"Don't be gone too long, husband. Your wife needs you here." She said, tilting her head up to meet his lips.

"I would never dream of it."

The moons passed by with no reprieve for Aelys. As Winterfell's sole head, her days were busy from dawn til dusk. Letters were exchanged sporadically with her husband while he helped Aegon iii ascend to his place on the iron throne.

Until, one day, his letters ceased. It had already been a full year without Cregan Stark, and Aelys was beginning to grow used to the lack of her husband and sister by her side. Routine had grown to be instinct for her, breezing through her duties like she'd done them all her life. The only thing missing was her lover.

Concerned, Aelys checked in with the resident Maester to ensure Cregan's wellbeing.

When he paused, lips pursed and hands clutching at his cane with a stress unlike the calm elder, he rasped out his own fears. "I, too, have received no word from Lord Stark. Though, no news has come of us death in the capitol, so he must simply be occupied."

Occupied at the end of the war? When Aegon had already been named King and all the men put to trial were either declared guilty or innocent? The brunt of the work was over and done with—told by Cregan himself.

So why was he silent for an entire moon?

It was another fortnite before the Stark wrote back to her. The letter was curt and brief.

My dearest Aelys,

Forgive my abrupt silence these past weeks. Please know that you have been on my mind throughout this entire time.

Sara has grown sick in Raventree Hall, and has not been able to travel with the host of men I have sent back home to the North. We will stay behind for another few moons while she is in recovery. I will return to you soon.

With love,

Cregan Stark.

It was shorter than his other letters by many paragraphs, pages even. Cregan left out no details when describing his miserable times in the capitol. Aelys found herself much enjoying his theatrical melodramatic retelling and was rendered bemused by this letter. Still, she continued to lead with no pause for breaks.

Three more moons later, and Cregan wrote that he was mere days away from Winterfell. Without Sara Snow, unfortunately, as she was still not entirely recovered, but his party could be postponed no longer.

Aelys rushed around Winterfell's Keep in a flurry of excitement. She ordered every room to be cleaned spotless, for rations to be saved for days until a feast could be made for their arrival, for hearths to be extra tended to, and for the courtyard to be prepared to clear the way for the host.

Finally, the days of busy bodies floating around the Great Keep came to a stop. The feast was warm and ready at all available tables. The hearths were warm and ready for sleepy heads to rest within the rooms. The tubs were filled with scalding hot water that would warm by the time they were used. Lady Stark stood for hours at the Great Keep's entry stairs in the courtyard.

She wanted to be there exactly when he walked through the archway. Despite the cold biting at her nose, the Lady stood resiliant and tall.

It was nearly in the afternoon when Cregan's party arrived. He came through first, leading as head of the host as any Lord should. A wheelhouse followed, surrounded by a small league of soliders all around it. She bounced on her heels slightly, seeing Cregan dismount from his ride. Though she found herself bemused and slightly hurt when he glanced at her and made his way towards the wheelhouse instead. Had Sara recovered enough to join and perhaps wanted to surprise her good sister? She hoped so, for she had missed her greatly. After growing up with only brothers, Aelys found a best friend and sister in Sara Snow. The whispers about Lady Stark befriending the bastard of Winterfell followed her around like a dark shadow, but she never paid them any mind.

Bastardry had never bothered Aelys before. Not even when she was a woman of noble birth and was taught that bastards were born inherently lustful, evil, and made of sin.

She waited patiently at the top of the steps for Cregan to fetch Sara.

To her surprise, he only pulled out of the carriage with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Pelts and blankets, it seemed. A plainly-dressed woman from the South stepped out after him but stayed trailing behind. A maid of some sort, though she had no clue as to why a Southern maid would need to follow Cregan back to Winterfell.

As he strided towards her, a strange and unhappy look on his face, she forced her anxiety back down her throat and raced to meet him. "Husband," she greeted with a smile. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." Reaching out to caress his face and simultaneously brush flecks of snow from his loose hair, she couldn't help but stop to admire her husband's handsome features. It had felt like an eternity that they were separated, and she had begun to forget the full details of his frame. Forgot his scent in the room and his side of the bed. Nearly forgot the warmth that he provided simply from standing nearby.

The very warmth he is giving to her now, in the chilly courtyard.

His eyes appeared to gloss, his nose and cheeks pinking even more so than they had already grown in the biting air. Glancing over Cregan, she assessed quickly for signs of fatigue or illness.

"Cregan?" she asked gently. "What is wrong?" She prayed he did not catch whatever Sara had caught, or hid a wound under his mass of leathers and pelts.

When he shiftly lifted the bundle in his arms to gesture for her to look at it, she finally spared a look to the mysterious ball of cloth. She had completely forgotten about it until now, noticing the maid still behind Cregan a few yards back, head tilted down and looking at her slippers. Peeking over a fur pelt, Aelys gasped at the sight. A babe, only a few moons old by the looks of it. Her mind raced with possibilities. Why would Cregan bring a babe back instead of leaving it in more temperate climates like the Riverlands that he stayed in on the way up North?

"Has one of your men died?" She asked in a hushed tone, assuming first that one of his soldiers perhaps fathered a bastard babe before perishing in a battle or falling to sickness. "Is the babe an orphan?" Cregan did always have a soft spot for younglings, showcased clearly by his time spent personally training young squires of Winterfell. He had lost his own younger brother in their youth, and the hole had never filled from that loss of kin.

"Aelys..." he started, meeting her eyes with a soft and sympathetic look. "This is my son." Was said loud and clear for any listeners to hear.

A jest. Cregan had seldom liked to be humorous in front of crowds, or anyone but herself and Sara, but he must have been in good spirits today. Briefly glancing at the surrounding people, she found only pitiful looks from the women and severe looks from the men. Shaking her head, Aelys forced a smile onto her face and a shaky laugh. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son." She emphasized.

He only stared at her back. No words of comfort, no sudden burst of laughter among his men to tell her that the biggest prank in the world had been pulled on her. Just shameless silence.

He had declared her second best in front of all of Winterfell. Her people and his.

"No." She said firmly, shaking her head 'no'. She breathed in and out deeply, trying to clear her blurry eyes and woozy head. Glaring down at the false babe in his arms, she found many similarities that she wished she had not. The same straight brows that Cregan had, the same scattered freckles, the same pale skin. The only difference was the hair color—black as a midnight sky or dragonglass. The mother must be beautiful.

Moving her eyes to the maid behind Cregan, she found that the girl had a mousy blonde color to her tresses. She could not have possibly bore a black-haired babe. She felt sick, like she'd throw up and choke at the same time. "Don't do this to me. You'd never do this to me." She pleaded out, voice small and hoarse.

"It was one time. I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan promised. But every word was like poison, filling her heart with a heavy black liquid and drowning her from the inside out.

"On your name?" She hissed out, uncaring of the onlookers for this one moment. She was allowed to be angry, callous, and spiteful, even. Any self-respecting woman would be. And she'd be damned if she wasn't. Any Stark woman ought to be when ruling over the entire North. Any Glover woman is.

"Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods! Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—?" Words spilled from her mouth before she can think properly. But she did not regret any of them, knowing she was in the right. Bile rose in her throat, pushing itself past the forced down emotions. She swiftly covered her mouth, stilling herself to prevent any more embarrassing. Subconsciously, she clutched at her empty stomach with her free hand, both mourning the fact that she'd have no children and thanking the Gods for not giving her any previously. A cry finally escaped her lips, watching the plain maid take the babe into her arms again as Cregan looked on helplessly to his wife.

Aelys found her voice again, though it was ragged and tired. "I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too." He was a liar, the worst kind of man. "Was it just not me you wanted a family with?"

She'd rather be struck with his hand than his deceitful mouth. It would hurt much less.

"I did, Aelys—I do!" He pleaded, stepping forward to console her. His arms looked like steel traps in her louded mind.

She took a lengthy step back. She would not share his warmth, nor his love. Or his bed, his room, his damned dining room. His children. Not when he had shared it with another woman. Given her his love, his attention, his son.

She could not bear to keep herself calm any longer. Adressing the entire courtyard, who had made themselves the Stark's own personal peanut gallery, she spoke firmly. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." Without a second glance back at the Stark, Aelys excused herself to her chambers, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot until she could only dry-heave nothingness. These chambers had not been used since she arrived in Winterfell, instead choosing to sleep and stay in their marital ones. She would not step foot into those again unless she was dragged kicking and screaming.

Aelys awoke to strong arms lifting her from the stone floor. Groggily, she was stirred from her deep and preserving sleep. How long had she been traveling? How long had she been buried under those pelts? Time was a blur when she was in a near comatose state, dead to the world. Limbs were numbed and her body felt warm after so long in the cold weather.

"I've got you, sweet girl. We're going home." A familiar voice rung in the back of her head. Even the jolting movements of a horse trotting could not fully move her to consciousness as she fell back asleep.

When she fully gained her sense of mind, she could clearly hear the sound of two men arguing. The warmth of a hearth was next to her as she lifted heavy blankets and furs off of her body. Glancing around, Aelys found herself back right where it all started. In Cregan's room, formerly their marital chambers that she had long since moved out of. A large oil painting sat over the heart, depicting a newlywed image of her and Cregan. They both smiled brightly in the photo, much to Cregan's complaint that the painting did not make him look 'serious enough'. She only laughed and tipped the painter extra gold dragons for the accuracy.

She loved that painting more than any others they kept in the Great Keep. Now, the two faces looking down at her only served to remind her of the falsehood she lived every day while Cregan was absent. Taking care of Winterfell and the North all by herself, just to come back and be thanked by his uncouth mistakes.

Shakily standing up, she winced at the feeling coming back to her limbs. Wriggling all twenty of her toes and fingers, she ensured they still all had feeling. Miraculously, she did. The numbess still felt vaguely there, and her throat was extremely dry and achy. But at least she was alive. Even if it was back in Winterfell, she could attempt her return to the Motte as soon as the storm died down.

It had been a dreadful blizzard. Not a rare sight in the North, but usually none lasted so long. Aelys could not help but feel it was the Gods punish Cregan and Aelys for their marital spat. Something like this must be so futile and useless in their eyes and the eyes of the people of the realm, but to Aelys it was her world and her life. No one could help Aelys but herself. She'd leave these spoiled halls even if the Old Gods and the New wished otherwise. If Cregan didn't have to keep oaths, why should she?

Opening the large wooden door, Aelys found the source of the faint yelling. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father in front of Cregan, in all his gruff charm with his silver hair and beard. She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. She stayed at the archway under the door, simply listening in as the men shouted further down the hall. If either turned their heads, they would spot her eavesdropping.

"—cannot even keep her safe during Winter! Am I to expect her to stay safe during a wildling attack, or worse? Or will you be prioritizing the safety of your mistress?" Harriston shouted, veins nearly popping out from his forehead and neck in his fury. Snow still gathered on his pelt coat, meaning he had just arrived recently.

"It is my mistake that she was endangered out there—but I would never let such a thing happen again under my protection. This is her home, I cannot allow her to go back to the Dreadfort. She is a Stark." Cregan emphasized, though had a defensive raised tone.

"Was she a Stark when you bed a whore in King's Landing?"

"The situation is more complicated than that." He responded, clenching his jaw.

"Nothing could ever be more complicated than losing your wit at a brothel, Stark. There is no argument to be had. She is staying with her family, where she was intending." Harriston growled out, a tone of finality to his tone. As he swung on his feet to head down the hall, face set in a worried and seething anger, he finally spotted his daughter.

"Aelys!" He yelled in relief, rushing toward her and scooping her up into his thick arms. "We're going home immediately. We will wash our hands of the Starks once and for all."

"I will not allow that." Cregan spoke from behind. As Aelys hugged her father back just as tightly, it was a battle to keep her tears from flowing in his safe arms. She missed her father more than she knew.

Before Harristone could speak, Aelys nodded. "We will settle this." She said flatly. Her father hesitantly let her go, nodding once firmly after seeing the resolve in his daughter's eyes.

"Very well. I will wait in the dining hall for you." He sighed, walking away.

Aelys shivered in the loss of warmth again. In her bare feet and night gown, she felt the cold of the cobblestone walls and floors start to seep under her skin again. "Here," Cregan murmured, gently shifting his mass of brown wolf pelt over her shoulders and clicking the direwolf emblem into place.

She allowed it, though she did not thank him with words. She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. "I want to separate. Divorce, I mean." She said tiredly.

Cregan flinched, jaw ticking and heavily considering her words. "That is entirely my fault. It is in your right to ask that of me." He said, voice dimmed and not nearly half of his assuredness. "But please, hear me out."

"What could I possibly hear you out with?" She asked, exhaustion clear in her tone. She'd dealt with this situation long enough.

Cregan nudged the door back open, nodding for her to enter. Reluctantly, she led the way in and watched as he gently shut it behind them. "I swore an oath, nearly nine moons ago." Cregan started.

Her brows furrowed, bemused. "To whom?"

Guiltily, he looked down at her, looking much alike to a kicked pup. "My sister."

"To Sara? What ever for?" She grew frustrated, knowing he was beating around the bush.

Taking a deep breath, he told her everything. "Sara stayed with her friend Alysanne Blackwood in Raventree hall for the entire time I was aiding King Aegon. In that time—she fell pregnant."

Aelys' heart dropped to her stomach. The same sick feeling overtaking her. She did not say a word.

"Davos Blackwood and Sara had built a bond, much like we did." He said. "When she told Davos of the news, they both went to Lord Blackwood to plea to marry each other. He refused, not allowing his heir to marry a bastard."

"And you legitimized Brandon as your own in turn?" She hissed.

"Sara begged me to. She lived her life as a bastard—she did not wish the same for her own son. I swore to her that my nephew would never be allowed the same treatment. I knew Aegon would do it." He trailed.

"So you bring him home, and humiliate me instead? You didn't even tell me, your own wife! You chose Sara over me. She is your sister, I know, but she chose to be with Davos Blackwood." She could have taken a tea, or moved to Essos or Dorne where bastards were more accepted. There were other options, but neither Sara nor Cregan used them. "That is cruel, Cregan. It is heartless." She cried.

"I never wished to hurt you, I only wanted to protect her. It was my oath." Cregan pleaded, grabbing her hands in his.

She shivered again, though unknowing if it was in chill or her own anger. Part of her was happy that he never truly took another woman to bed—never picked another other her. Though he still hid the biggest secret in the world from her for moons. Allowed her to suffer in their shared home and withstand the pitious looks of the people and court.

"I can't trust you. Not ever again. You could not trust me with your own kin's truth, and punished me for it." She stated. She could not allow herself to cave in so easily, to fall back into his arms.

"I understand, sweet girl." He muttered, softly stroking the apple of her cheek almost mindlessly. "I will sign whatever the Maester's conjure up. You will be free to marry whoever you wish—someone who will not lie to you."

The Starks were known for their loyalty and devotedness to their oaths. If Cregan Stark had lied to his wife so easily, no lesser man could ever make her happy with faithfulness and loyalty. Aelys had accepted her life to be one of loneliness from the day Brandon was allowed into the home.

"I will stay in Deepwood Motte for the time being. From there, I will see where my path leads." She said vaguely, unknowing now of what her heart desired. "Wish Sara well for me." Aelys asked of him, leaving him behind as she wiped any straying tears from her face.

"I love you, Aelys." He said, calling softly after her.

"I know." She whispered to herself.

In the dining hall, Harriston awaited her arrival. Perking up when she entered, he knowingly took her into his arms. "I'm tired, father."

"Let's go home. Your mother has missed you dearly." He said, planting a fatherly kiss to her temple.

Aelys would not yet send word for a formal separation to the Citadel or to the King. For now, time apart was what she declared best for herself.

divider by - @issysh3ll

tags - @palomavz @emithefrog @karinalight @johnshelbywife @tojisrealwifey @baddielizzy @pearldaisy @brookiecookie @jessicar401 @hardkiddonut @littlelilly27-blog @nayaniasworld @just-mj-or-not @flaneurpastel @unsweetenedpeatea @blucesita09 @maxmegara @deeeeexx @masschotch @janniepark1997 @spongelistener @margaaaa30 @paracii @lovebabe18 @rey26 @damneddamsy @yunnifer @kenzcarson @glqmmywhqmmy @arizonadesert @blumin8 @its-your-girl-savy @dreamygirli3 @aemondloverr @zaranobiyuyu @nsr-15 @oxymakestheworldgoround @isansstuff @high-speed-r

so many tags dont work 🥲 will try to tell in comment sec

ending is ambiguous. Will she decide to divorce or eventually mend their relationship? Up to you!

might make an alt ending where he really is just a shitty guy but this had been my idea from the start (many guessed it and i could not reply to them because of it lmao)

sorry if those two scenes got repetitive, but I wanted to show the 'cregan bringing brandon home' from both of their more detailed perspectives. Cregan's shame and guilt and her humiliation and heartbreak.

so many people guessed so close (to the sara part at least) only saw Jace thoughts tho, but he's already dead long before Cregan's walk down to the South. Would have been much more dramatic, but I think Jace would never allow a child of his to be apart from him. Many people swayed me to lead them to separate instead of stick together, and it does make more sense to have her leave him in the end. Although he did not cheat he still lied and publicly humiliated her, even unintentionally, but he's a grown man who is smart enough to know consequences.

[boowritess]

part 1 hehe

notsobaddasssoldier!reader that is so incredibly under prepared for everything. and the 141 really do forget that you're actually still very green - very new to this life.

especially with things like interrogation.

for once, price is putting you on the sideline BUT you have to interogate the person they have captive for valuable information.

they'll give you whatever things you need in order to pry out any sort of information from the captive. they don't even second guess you asking for a guitar. they get one then they continue on with the mission while you interrogate the person.

their expectation may have been very high. they were betting on all the little fun bloody pain you could potentially do to the captive. seriously,

"knife, they're a knife person" *ghost*

"definitely not. fire. they're definitely using a blowtorch on em as we speak." *soap*

"sod of the both of ya - waterboarding. for sure." *gaz*

"choking." *price shrugs*

obviously, they were excited to come back and see who was right...

it really humbled them to see they were all wrong.

"please make them stop. i'll tell you whatever you want"

*captive yelling that can be barely heard over reader.*

"AHHHHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH AHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH-"

*reader who is loudly strumming the guitar out of tune, screaming in the captives' face over and over again.*

the guys don't know if they should be impressed or concerned. they were gone for nearly 5 hours.

5 hours you had been screaming in the captives' face 'playing' the guitar.

later on you get a lesson from ghost about what interrogations are supposed to be like - it ends with you vomiting and price patting your back and gaz holding a bucket to your mouth.

"what did you think was gonna happen when ghost showed ye what to do?" *soap*

"i don't know... go boo?" *scarred reader*

yeah... you're not allowed to do interrogations anymore or be involved in interrogations- you are also most definitely not allowed to talk to captives or guard them because -

"why're you doing this?" *captive*

"honest to god, i ain't got much goin' for me and i had hella stu-"

*reader's mouth suddenly gets covered, gaz looking at you like an idiot*

"hm? what is your little task force plan, huh? go on and blow the place?" *captive*

"well actually no. they plan too-" *your mouth gets covered just in time and you're getting dragged out the room by a very frustrated price*

you very much get ANOTHER lesson about what NOT TO DO when in the same room as a captive - it's pointless though because you're still not ever allowed in the same room alone with a captive.

HAHAHA

i can't stop thinking of reader who is watching a captive be interrogated for information by getting choked and reader just piping up like

"i don't think they can breathe..."

*ghost, long exhale, continues choking captive*

"that's the point, kid" *price*

"oh..."

*they continue choking the captive, waiting for them to crack-*

"if they can't breathe how are they going to talk-?"

"out." *ghost snaps pointing at the door.*

maybe they do give you a second shot at attempting to interrogate the captive. the 'correct' way this time, though. giving you ALL the necessary tools...

and you are ready, you're pumped. you can do it. you're not going to vomit - you're going to do it right.

you grab the pliers and walk towards the captive who is obviously panicked, very much expecting you to do your worse. which you are.

you grab their mouth and force their mouth open, ready to pull their teeth out - sucking a deep breath in as the captive starts to cry and beg.

but then you start to cry and beg.

"please just tell me the information i don't wanna do this"

"you don't have too!" *captive, crying and begging too*

"i do! i'm sorry..."

"no." *captive*

"yes."

"no" *captive starts screaming, making you start screaming as you pull on their tooth both of you staring at eachother and screaming your heads off.*

"I'M SORRY!"

"STOP!" *captive*

"I CAN'T!" *pulls tooth with pliers* "EW EW EW EW-"

you don't even do it right. you're pulling at their tooth with pliers and you're not strong enough so you're awkwardly just tugging the captives head. but the both of you are too busy screaming and begging to notice...

but you actually manage to successfully get the information - you're still not allowed to do interrogations... only being the very last option.

it does mean that you have to go on missions... even if you're useless omg idea?

*gasp* someone claims reader is a traitor - oop?

more parts, perhaps?

a/n: wrote this while trying to work through an anxiety/panic attack !! xx honestly tho these would be my genuine reaction. btw drink water and try sleep cause i can't xx

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you were accommodated in such a shabby hotel, the last thing you needed was a power outage. and upon learning about one of your colleagues' fear of the dark, you can't bring yourself to not help him

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, spencer is afraid of the dark and the reader comforts him, they comfort each other tbh, elle&morgan my fav duo, glasses reid obvi.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.7k

𝐚/𝐧: these are my official apologies for all the recent stories 🫶🏼 i wanted it to be so much shorter but i just love writing conversations between characters so that's how it turned out. @mggslover i'm so sorry for not adding spencer falling off the bed but i didn't want to ruin that subtle ending :(( maybe next time

"Please, I’m begging you, I’m really begging you—begging in the name of a god I don’t even believe in. Tell me we’ve got the wrong address," Morgan said, squeezing his eyes shut the moment you all crossed the threshold of the motel where you'd been assigned to stay while working on the case in another state.

You noticed Elle’s expression falter as well. From the outside, the place hadn’t looked that bad. Well, perhaps it only seemed that way because the street it was on was so dark you couldn’t make out much of anything. Midnight must have been approaching; the first day of the investigation was officially over.

“We didn’t get it wrong,” Reid declared, stepping inside as the last of you, quickly scanning the interior. “I memorized it perfectly. Besides, there aren’t any other accommodations in the area, so this has to be it.”

“Do you remember that one case,” Elle started, “where the unsub killed women in hotel rooms and decorated the interiors with their intestines?”

You glanced at her, curious—or as curious as you could be under the circumstances. You’d only joined the team fairly recently; this was your third or fourth case at most, and none of them had been quite that… gruesome. Of course, you were well aware cases like that happened. It was only a matter of time before one came your way. Unfortunately.

“This motel totally looks like the kind of place where something like that happens on a daily basis,” Elle continued. “My advice? Don’t look under the beds tonight. Or in the closets, if there even are any.”

“I just hope there’s hot water,” Derek sighed, his voice carrying a tone of resignation. “We once ended up in a place that didn’t have any. I almost handed in my resignation.”

“You deal with gruesome murders every day, but no hot water is too much for you, Princess?” you raised an eyebrow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye as you made your way toward the reception desk to pick up your room keys. The motel’s walls were yellow—not the cheerful sunflower or sunny kind of yellow, but more like dried-up cat pee yellow.

“He’s got a point, though,” Elle chimed in, taking the key from an elderly woman at the reception desk. “Think about it. You come back after a long, grueling day, from dawn to midnight, just like today. You’re exhausted, barely standing, and you can’t even take a hot shower.”

Morgan pointed at her and nodded in agreement. You shrugged.

“Cold isn’t that bad,” you muttered. Honestly, you hadn’t expected anything luxurious from the place you’d been sent to. It was just a few days, after all.

“Oh, are you one of those people practicing that millionaire morning routine?” Derek teased. “You know—waking up at three, cold shower, steak for breakfast, daily planning, self-help book…”

I just grew up poor, you thought to yourself, but aloud you only let out a short laugh.

“I’d kill to have time to read a book before work. Any book. Not to be yanked out of bed by Hotch at five, like today, and scrambling to get out the door.”

Elle and Morgan exchanged a very brief look, almost secretive. You narrowed your eyes, suspicion suddenly welling up inside you. Before you could ask about it, someone else spoke up.

“He called me at half past six,” Reid said, tilting his head in mild confusion.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the others silencing him with a look.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you stopped in your tracks, demanding an explanation. “He called me half an hour earlier than the rest of you?”

“You live farther away.”

“We’re practically neighbors, Elle Greenaway.”

“I’m about to drop,” Derek suddenly interjected with theatrical exhaustion. A change of subject. A not-so-subtle change of subject. “If I don’t lie down soon, I’ll fall asleep standing up. See you all tomorrow, folks.”

“You’re absolutely right—sleep well.”

With that, he and Elle headed up the stairs to the third floor, where they’d been assigned rooms. You and, as it turned out, Reid were staying on the second floor.

You turned to him slowly, arms crossed over your chest.

You didn’t even need to say anything—your stern gaze alone made it clear you were waiting for an explanation. Reid looked like he was about to throw his hands up in a defensive gesture, clearly regretting that he’d brought up the topic at all.

“Okay,” he sighed nervously. “What I’m about to say is not meant to offend you in any way, not even the slightest…”

“Offend?” you repeated, furrowing your brow. “Jesus Christ, Reid, don’t look at me like that—I’m not about to punch you in the face…”

“It’s just…” he began, a little calmer now. “All of us, including Hotch, I assume, are aware of the fact that, occasionally—just sometimes—you have a slight tendency to…run a bit late to work.”

He looked at you, and a telling silence fell between you.

"Yesterday, you were fourteen and a half minutes late."

"Fifteen minutes doesn't count as being late. And have you heard of a grace period? It's allowed to arrive within that time frame, without any consequences."

"Fine. What about two days ago, twenty-one minutes and seventeen..."

"Metro malfunction. I had no control over that."

"And six days ago, on Tuesday? Twenty-four minutes and..."

"I don’t remember such a situation, because, Mr. Big Brain, not all of us have such a memory. But I assume there was a reason..."

"Alright, fine," Reid interrupted you calmly. "I’m not saying there wasn’t a reason. But still... it happens quite often, and that's a fact. So it’s no surprise that Hotch, when the situation especially calls for it, prefers to call you a little earlier than the rest. Just out of caution."

You sighed, no longer able to argue about it. Maybe he was right; you did sometimes lose track of time in the mornings or fail to wake up to the sound of your alarm, closing your eyes for an extra five minutes... which resulted in small delays. You had never been directly reprimanded for it, so you were unaware that it had become such a big issue. Slightly embarrassed, you pressed your lips together.

"As usual, I guess you're right. And by the way, I’m heading to my room. I had thirty minutes less sleep than all of you, I’m exhausted," you said in a lighter, joking tone. A brief smile crossed Reid’s face. "Good night, wise guy.”

"Good night. And don’t look under the bed."

"Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it!"

With those words, you both disappeared into rooms directly opposite each other. The sounds of doors closing synchronized. You started your usual evening routine, placing your suitcase in the corner of the room. It was really small, narrow, and rectangular. The walls had that same awful color, the light was too bright, causing a headache. So you decided to just turn on the night lamp on the shabby nightstand next to the single bed.

It turned out that the only bathroom was in the hallway. You almost cried; you didn't want to take all your things with you and then come back with them. You remembered that you'd taken a proper shower that morning, so maybe a repeat wasn’t absolutely necessary. You were too sleepy for it, so you just set the alarm for fifteen minutes earlier to do it in the morning. After changing into comfortable clothes, you immediately lay down on the bed. Following Elle’s advice, and then Reid’s too, you didn’t check what might be hiding under it.

You weren’t hiding it, you were a terrible sleeper. Falling asleep in new places usually wasn’t a problem for you, even if it was a place that looked like a dive where someone could stab you in your sleep. But that night, something was bothering you. After giving it some thought, you realized it was Reid’s words.

Of course, it wasn’t that you held it against him. He was just stating facts; he had no intention of offending you, as he assured. And you didn’t even feel offended. More like unpleasantly confronted with a certain fact. You had only been part of the BAU for a short time. Well, just a week ago Derek stopped calling you the new girl. Although on the outside, you came across as very confident, on the inside, you were preoccupied with the team’s opinion of you and what they might think about you. Mainly because they were all older and more experienced.

You were especially worried about the fact that your tardiness and chaos had drawn the boss’s attention. Being on good terms with your superior was incredibly important, in case something ever happened, in case you made a more serious mistake…those small things could influence how the rest of your career would unfold, and the decisions made about you.

But above all, you wanted everyone to like you. Simply like you. So you wouldn’t walk around every day with your heart in your throat, praying for the day to end, constantly overwhelmed by a sense of misfit and loneliness.

You turned to your side, not sure how long you had been lying there, thinking. Suddenly, you realized you had to pee.

With great reluctance and sleepiness, you reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on and go to the bathroom. However, when you tugged at the cord, it... didn’t turn on. The room remained shrouded in darkness. You tried once more, then blindly made your way to the light switch in the room. You pressed it, and nothing.

What was going on, a power outage?

You shook your head in confusion. Whatever was going on, it didn’t change the fact that you had to go to the bathroom. You remembered the flashlight in your jacket pocket, and in the darkness, it took you a while to find it. When you finally had it in your hand, you felt ready to complete the mission. To pee, that is.

The moment you stepped out into the hallway, a light source flared up right before your eyes. You let out a muffled exclamation, partly from surprise, partly from being almost blinded.

“Damn, sorry…” Reid hissed, equally confused, turning his flashlight downward, away from your face.

You rubbed your eyelids, turning off your flashlight. Two light sources were unnecessary.

“Is there no power for you too?” you asked.

Reid nodded. It was only then that you really looked at him—he was wearing very loose pajama pants and...

“Cute,” you clicked your tongue, pointing at his white sweater with a bear wearing glasses. He had them too, worn very low on his nose. He must have put them on absentmindedly, in the dark, right after getting out of bed.

“I got it from Penelope for my birthday,” he said in a tone as if he were giving a statement. His hand briefly touched the fabric, right at the center of the brown bear’s face. “It’s really comfortable and soft. Perfect for sleeping...Anyway, I was heading to the reception to find out what the issue is and whether anything can be done about it. You too?”

"No, I just really need to pee. Do you really want to go there at this hour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, outages happen, and they'll have to fix it, but it's the middle of the night. We don't really need the lights right now, and if you want to go to the bathroom, you have a flashlight, as I can see."

You kept your gaze on him, realizing that since he noticed the lack of light, he must have been either heading somewhere himself or keeping the light on. Or maybe he had been sleeping with the light on. He did seem a bit tense. One of his hands was still resting on the half-open door, nervously gripping it. The other was pressed tightly to his body, his chest rising in an odd rhythm. Not a quickened pace, like with a panic attack, but more unnatural, like he was trying to control it.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" the question slipped out of you directly. After a moment, you realized it might have been a little too blunt. You had asked it carelessly, suspecting there might be another reason behind his behavior. For some reason, fear of the dark didn’t seem to fit his rational character.

Reid quickly shook his head, firmly denying it.

"No. No, of course not. I was just... reading when the light went out."

Oh, you didn’t even need to be a profiler to see right away that he was lying. You crossed your arms, a little amused by how stubbornly he was denying it.

"You were reading? At this hour? When we’re back to the investigation first thing tomorrow morning?"

He shrugged, shaking his head again.

"I couldn’t sleep."

You sighed. In the end, neither his fear nor his shame were your concern, so you didn’t see the point in interrogating him any further. You signaled that you were dropping the subject, and some expression passed across his face. Gratitude. Gratitude for not pushing the issue or mocking him. You felt a bit offended that he had even thought you might do that.

“If you still plan on going to the reception, wait for me, I’ll go with you. I just need to quickly stop by the bathroom.”

Reid opened his mouth, clearly surprised by your suggestion.

“Well, what?” you replied with a shrug. “I can’t let something eat you on the way. A demonic hand emerging from the darkness…”

“Very funny,” he commented, rolling his eyes. However, the corner of his mouth twitched, and his breathing seemed calmer.

“…The ghost of Richard Ramirez haunting the walls of this hotel. Or some other bloodthirsty maniac.“

"Didn't you really have to pee badly?"

"The team wouldn’t recover from losing you, Reid!" You threw that line over your shoulder as you walked toward the bathroom.

Of course, there was no light there either, so you had to use your flashlight. He was waiting for you, and together, in silence, you headed down the stairs toward the reception. Given how small the motel was, it wasn’t open 24/7. You had to wait a while before someone came to assist you.

“That happens sometimes,” the employee shrugged. “We’re not sure where the problem is exactly, but someone’s supposed to come check it out tomorrow…”

“Can’t anything be done about it now?” Reid asked, a trace of frustration in his voice that he was trying to mask—especially when he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Maybe it’s just a simple overload? Where are the fuse boxes…?”

“Reid,” you said gently, placing a hand on his elbow to draw his full attention. He turned his head toward you, surprised by the tone of your voice. You gave the employee a discreet signal that you didn’t have any further questions and he could leave.

“You’re not fixing the electricity in some rundown motel. That would just be… ridiculous.”

“I’m not talking about fixing it,” he clarified quickly, though it was clear he hadn’t let go of the idea. “But in most cases, it’s just a simple short circuit. I could just take a look—”

“—Or you could just sleep in my room.”

The words left your mouth, surprising not only him but also yourself. Yet, it wasn’t as though you regretted them or wanted to take back the offer. On the contrary, the moment you said it out loud, it felt even more fitting. When you were a little kid—like most children, probably—you’d also been afraid of the dark, and running to someone else’s room always helped. Curling up beside someone, just knowing someone was there, made all the difference.

You watched his reaction, the way he shook his head slightly from side to side, a small frown creasing his forehead.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all. Come on.” You grabbed him by the wrist—the hand not holding the flashlight—and pulled him along. He moved hesitantly, but he seemed too caught off guard to plant his feet and stay put.

He stopped only when you reached the door to your room, pulling his hand free from your grasp.

"How do you even imagine this working? There's... there's only one bed in there."

"If that bothers you, grab the mattress and some bedding from your room. You’ll hardly notice the difference—those beds are unbearably uncomfortable anyway."

He lowered the flashlight slightly, letting the surrounding darkness of the hallway creep over his face. It was barely visible now, but the hesitation etched on it was unmistakable. Standing across from him, you held his gaze without saying a word, silently reinforcing the fact that you weren’t joking.

The thought of him struggling to fall asleep for the rest of the night and then suffering through another day made you feel genuinely sorry for him. Besides, even though you hadn’t known each other long, you already considered him a sort of friend. If there was anything you could do to help, you wanted to do it.

"It's no big deal, Spencer," you reassured him one last time, hoping the words would finally sink in. "Really. And if you want... we don't ever have to talk about this again. Tomorrow, or ever."

His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath.

"Th-thank you," he said at last, cautiously, as though he'd packed so many thoughts into the single word that saying it out loud was an effort.

You smiled gently and understandingly. Before stepping into the room, you briefly placed a hand on his arm.

"Oh God, that sweater really is soft..."

He let out a short laugh, perhaps releasing a bit of the embarrassment he’d been holding back. You both disappeared into your respective rooms, and you lay down in bed, waiting for him to show up. Well, the moment dragged on a little too long.

You were almost certain he’d only agreed to your suggestion to get you off his back and had no intention of actually following through. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you debated whether to go to his room and drag him over or just let it go. They say you shouldn’t force help on others. Maybe there was some truth to that.

Shortly after that thought, your door creaked open slowly. You heard it but couldn’t see much—the room was too dark, and he wasn’t using his flashlight. Perhaps he assumed you were already asleep and didn’t want to risk waking you.

Either way, he moved around your bed to lay down a pillow and blanket on the floor, skipping the effort of hauling over an entire mattress. 

"Your back is going to hurt," you remarked softly, your voice adjusting to the rhythm of the night, blending with the surrounding darkness.

You lay on your side, facing the spot where he had set up his makeshift bed. All you could see was the outline of his figure, his hands clasped loosely over his stomach, head resting on the pillow. You even caught the slight shrug of his shoulders in response to your comment.

"Actually, sleeping on the floor can have health benefits. It helps maintain a neutral spine position," he replied.

“Seriously?” you scoffed. “Do you really have to come up with a counterargument for everything I say?”

“Such a curse of mine. If you don’t like it, well, you invited me here.”

“Annoying bastard. I guess it’s too late to kick you out?” you wondered aloud, of course, rhetorically. But you quickly added, worried that he might take it seriously, “Sleep well. You and your spine.”

An amused sigh escaped him.

 “You… and your spine too.”

Well, you guessed that's enough of the chit-chat. You felt a bit disappointed, but you had brought him here for a reason. To let him sleep, not to entertain you with conversation. To your surprise, you didn’t feel sleepy, even though you had struggled with it earlier. You had been thinking about... hard to even pinpoint what, there were a few things. The little worries typical of the night, suddenly growing to some huge proportions.

You were still lying in the same position, some time had passed. Your cheek was almost touching the edge of the bed, on the same side where Reid slept. Well, actually, he wasn’t sleeping. You could see a faint, barely noticeable gleam of his open eyes. They were cast downward, trying not to stare into the empty blackness above his head.

“Have you always been afraid of the dark?” you decided to ask, with no sarcasm.

“I’m not afraid,” he replied, though he could always pretend to be asleep. But the answer came out automatically.

“Alright, brave guy.” You didn’t even scoff, you just said it calmly and accepting. Maybe later he’ll tell you, when he stops being so embarrassed about it. “So, I guess you came here to get to know me better. And you know, I think you’ve got the chance. Could you... could you tell me something? Just honestly?”

"Me?" he asked, surprised, even sitting up slightly. "I mean... sure. But what?"

You suddenly sighed, regretting even bringing up the topic. God, that was so stupid...

"Just remember, honestly. Do you think the rest of the team likes me?"

Reid was silent, a strange feeling gathered in your stomach. Instead of answering negatively, he propped himself up on both elbows, and you saw a slight movement of his head. A nod.

"Are you asking this completely seriously?"

You shrugged, not sure if he noticed, so you confirmed out loud in a slightly hoarse voice. And then, to your absolute surprise, he just laughed.

"I don’t get it," he confessed after a short moment during which you stared in silence at his silhouette. "How... how could you think it could be any different? You’re always joking with Derek and Elle, and... we get along well too, I hope..."

"You’re right. But... but that’s not what I meant, I just... ugh, seriously, I can’t explain it. Fine, you know what, never mind."

You turned onto your back, as if that would completely sever the conversation. The one you’d stupidly started. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it to anyone. Another stupid thought, after all, he wasn’t like that.

Silence again, broken only by breaths. A new sound joined them, a slight rustle of the sheets. When Reid spoke again, his voice sounded somehow higher, and you were sure he was sitting on the floor as he said it.

"It might be a little surprising, but when I was a kid, I wasn't afraid of the dark," he began, completely changing the tone of his voice. He wasn't surprised like before; it was lower, gentler, despite the topic he was addressing. "I mean, I wasn't afraid of it more than any other kid my age. That... that serious fear, the real fear, started later. I don't want to say it was when I started working for the BAU because that wouldn't be entirely true. But it was around the time I started taking everything seriously. Seeing it with my own eyes, every day."

You didn't even realize when you had turned back onto your side, just to look at him, listening to his words.

"Do you have nightmares?" you asked.

"Sometimes. Actually..." he sighed, swallowing. "All of it, the fear and the nightmares, it's like they don't exist when I'm in a place I know. A place I trust. I can sleep just fine with the lights off in my apartment, the same in a jet. Everything starts in places like this. “

There was silence from your side, and you felt a bit… touched that he decided to tell you this. No beating around the bush, no lying, and, most importantly, no overwhelming embarrassment. It was a normal topic after all; everyone has their fears.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you have nightmares?"

In the first few days after starting the job, you did. Then they stopped. That’s just how things go, you suppose.

"Not anymore," you admitted, letting out a small laugh. "But that doesn’t mean I sleep well. Now I just worry at night."

"About whether the team likes you?"

"Okay, I know it sounds childish, but it’s really been bothering me lately. They might… they might seem to like me, but deep down, they might not think that highly of me. I… I'm new, not that experienced, I’m always late, and I don’t think I’m bringing anything new to the table..."

"Of course, you’re bringing something," he interrupted you. You hadn’t noticed when, but you were both sitting up now. Your voices weren’t sleepy whispers anymore, you were having a real conversation. "Each of us brings something different, something characteristic of ourselves. That's how it works in a team. That’s why you’re here. Without you… okay, you might not know this, but since you’ve been here, these last four cases have gone much more smoothly."

"Do you really think so?" 

"Well, you asked me to be honest. Completely honest."

You've always had a bit of imposter syndrome, doubting your abilities, and approaching others' positive comments about you or your achievements with skepticism. 

Something in the way he spoke, his quick words, his engagement in them... made you believe him, somehow.

"Reid," you began, surprised to find that there was less weight in your chest, in your body. "I know, I just know, that you'll refuse, but still, I'll ask. Do you want to lie down with me?"

You didn't even know what exactly prompted the question. Caring about your back, you could answer. But was that really all it was?

For a moment, he was silent, thinking you were joking, but when it dawned on him that you weren't, he scoffed.

"Well, you were right, I'll refuse..."

"Sorry, but I doubt you'll fall asleep any other way. I was watching you, as creepy as that sounds. You were lying there with your eyes open, you were scared."

"I'm an adult man who's afraid of the dark. That's pathetic on its own, without being tucked to sleep by a coworker."

"I never mentioned anything about tucking you in."

He hesitated, embarrassed. 

"You took the least important part of my statement..."

"I took what I wanted. The rest is nonsense. Your age doesn't determine what you can or can't be afraid of. I'm a grown woman, and I'm afraid my colleagues don't like me. Which sounds more pathetic, huh? Fear of the dark or that?"

“I think it’s a point we could argue about for hours.”

“Which we don’t have. It’s late, we should go to sleep. Quick question, are you lying down with me, or are you fooling yourself into thinking you’ll fall asleep without it?”

A heavy, resigned sigh escaped him. Without adding anything else to his words, you turned onto your side, your back to him. You heard the rustling of the sheets, and for a moment, you froze, surprised. But no, he hadn’t joined you. 

You weren’t sure how you felt. Disappointed seemed like too strong a word. It wasn’t as though he had refused some incredibly important request of yours. It was just… perhaps the best explanation would be that, once you had convinced him to sleep in the same room for the sake of helping him, you wanted him to take something comforting from that night. You wanted it to be one of those good nights, like the ones he had in his apartment or in the jet, the ones he had mentioned. Not one of the others, filled with fear.

But then, the mattress beside you dipped, as someone else settled onto it.

You turned to the other side, and suddenly your faces were right across from each other. Reid swallowed, almost nervously. He seemed to be adjusting to the situation, to the sudden closeness, the small space you shared. You propped your hand under your head, observing him discreetly. It hit you that he always had a bit of an issue with contact with others. A doubt crossed your mind: had you made him uncomfortable?

Minutes passed, though, and his body seemed to sink more comfortably into the bed. His arms were no longer stiff, his hands resting freely, no longer clasped tightly across his chest. You could also hear his breath, and the more peaceful it became, the calmer you felt too.

And even though no words seemed necessary anymore, he decided to speak once again.

"Thank you."

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella

[wileys-russo]

the good partner test II l.williamson

the good partner test II l.williamson

"but how do i know if they're worth the hassle? dating sucks!" steph groaned impatiently, swearing as her head thumped against the wall where she'd thrown it back.

"oo someone get steffy a helmet!" kyra mocked, sprinting out of the change rooms at the evil look sent to her by your fellow matildas teammate.

"well first of all you make sure they're not like kyra." beth chimed in with a snicker as she laced up her boots. "hey i think someone with energy could be good for her." lia defended as steph simply sighed, rubbing the back of her head with a wince.

"she needs a boyfriend not a man child!" "and who said energy means a man child?" "have you met kyra?" "she is not dating kyra!" "she needs someone calm, someone reliable." "you can be reliable and fun! she needs someone fun."

"i think she needs the two of you to stop talking about her and her love life like she isn't right here listening." you chimed in over the top of them, both girls falling silent as steph chuckled and squeezed your knee in appreciation.

"how many dates have you been on with this new guy now?" you asked curiously as steph paused to think. "mm three? but theres also bakery man and finance bro." steph retorted, the way she'd nicknamed her current escapades making you grin.

"can't forget tesco twat." beth added on as steph grimaced. "he is not on the roster, we called him that for a reason." the older girl rolled her eyes as you laughed again. "the roster? god you need to stop hanging out with kyra." you shook your head as the brunette shoved you playfully.

"it can't be considered hanging out if she invites herself over to see calvin and eat my food!" "stephanie i told you to change your locks, she had a key made for mine and leahs place too, the little freeloader."

"but, if you're not sure which of these guys to pursue seriously, and if thats something you're ready for. theres always the good partner test!" you shrugged as all three girls gave you a perplexed look.

"what? none of you have ever heard of that?" "no?"

"how do you think i have this?" you grinned holding up your hand, the rock of an engagement ring shining prettily on your finger, quickly lowering your hand with a wince at the glare sent your way by lia.

"sorry stephy." you apologized sheepishly, having been there for her the very day she'd handed back her own engagement ring to her now ex fiancé. "its fine! its been a few months now, and i know i'm better off." the brunette nodded to herself as the three of you quickly agreed.

"so, good partner tests?" "yes! they're just simple little things you can use on someone to see if they're a good fit for you or not. you know like ask them to peel an orange for you, see if they hold a door open for you? or you can present them with a problem where you know what the solution should be, and see if they come to that conclusion on their own." you explained.

"is that like an australian thing? because i have never heard of it." beth frowned as lia nodded along in agreeance making your eyes roll. "no! but it does work. i tested leah after we'd been on a few dates, she passed with flying colours and look at us now!" you held up your ring again as lia winced on your behalf at the gesture.

"you've been doing it for that long?" steph asked in disbelief as you nodded seriously. "since like, high school? dodged a few bullets here and there with it, trust me." you promised, the others looking on skeptically.

"you remember blake?" you questioned steph who shook her head as you sighed. "rat teeth?" you tried again quietly as immediately she perked up. "oh her! from when you played at victory? yeah yeah." the girl waved you to continue.

"well she failed the partner test, guess where she is now?" "with more teeth missing?" "ha ha. no, she's serving 5-10 for stealing money from her boss! bullet? dodged."

"i distinctly remember tell you to break up with her anyway?" "besides the point! if she hadn't failed, i could still be with her." you shrugged, all three girls still clearly unsure of your method.

"you don't believe me? fine! how about i test leah again and you'll see how it works. then you can try it on some of your roster?" you offered up, sarcasm dripping in the last word as steph pinched you.

"so which test is first?"

"lee!" you called across the change rooms, your fiancé lost in her own world as she glanced off into the distance clearly disassociating. "leah!" you tried again, frida glancing up and shaking her lightly as you shot her a smile and the defender raised an eyebrow in your direction.

"i forgot my socks, can i borrow your spares please?" you questioned, a lie of course but you had a point to prove. "my spares are my spares, what if i need them?" the girl retorted back and you were a little caught off guard by the unexpected response.

"but, you don't need them?" "well not yet, but if i did and i'd given them to you, i wouldn't have them. would i?" "so i can't use them?" you scoffed, the taller girl standing with a shrug and rolling out a kink in her neck.

"should pack your own spares babe, like i've been telling you to." and with a teasing honk of your nose she was striding off across the room and leaving you with your mouth wide open in shock.

"well, do we call that strike one?" beth snickered as you looked up at her with a glare, reaching out to smack her as she darted out of the way.

"here." you looked up at a tap on your shoulder, a kind smile and a pair of socks held out your way. "thanks less." you accepted them gratefully despite not needing them, not wanting to explain leahs failure to another person.

"theres more tests! you'll see they work." you huffed grumpily at the amused looks on steph and lias faces, hurrying to get ready as to not make yourself late.

~

"right. watch this!" you tugged on stephs training bib to get her attention, a break called mid session as everyone headed over to get a drink and stretch.

arriving beside your fiancé you held your hand out expectantly for the water bottle in hers, leah giving you an odd look. "what?" the blonde questioned bluntly once she'd swallowed the water in her mouth. "i'm thirsty." you reached for her bottle as she quickly took a step back.

"so get some water? its right there." her foot pointed toward the other bottles as you frowned. "babe just give me a drink." you tried for her bottle again as she held it out of reach.

"no! get your own, muppet." her spare hand pushed at your forehead as she turned away from you to talk to stina, once more leaving you stunned at the unexpected reaction as steph whistled with a pitiful smile.

huffing you tapped on the blondes shoulder who turned around, raising an eyebrow. "yes?" "can you get me a water please?" you asked with a hopeful smile, your fiancé staring at you silently for a moment. "love are you concussed?" she questioned with furrowed eyebrows, a hand pressed against your head as you pushed it off.

"no! i'm thirsty." you again tried for her bottle as she stepped back and moved it. "well as i said, theres water right there. so drink some!" leah gulped another mouthful before tossing her bottle down on the used pile and jogging off back to the pitch.

"that was painful." beths arm slung over your shoulder with a whistle and a shake of her head. "get off! theres more tests, its just...an accident." you tried to excuse your fiances thus far horrible scores as beth held her hands up defensively.

once more you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning as yet again alessia stood there with a new bottle of water offered to you. "thanks less." you sighed with a smile, accepting it gratefully and falling into conversation with the striker until the whistle blew for training to recommence.

~

"look! this is an easy one." you interrupted steph mid sentence as the pair of you filed back toward the doors, most of the team already inside and very hungrily headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

hurrying ahead a little you waited by the now closed door, leah trudging toward you deep in conversation with one of the physios, sure enough pulling it open but you quickly ran right back into it as she pulled it closed after her.

"shit are you alright?" steph asked with wide eyes as you clutched your throbbing nose, though it was your pride which felt most wounded as steph hurried to pull the door open for the two of you, assuring her you were fine as you both headed for lunch.

by the time you'd collected your tray of food your hands were full and so were most of the tables, you and steph headed for your usual spots where sure enough it seemed as though your fiancé had saved you one next to her.

steph took a seat beside lia who pulled her chair out for her given both of you were laden down with your trays, however when you arrived expecting leah to do the same, she was too busy talking vic's ear off across the other table to even notice you arrived.

you cleared your throat, just loud enough for her to hear though it did nothing to deter her as she glanced up to flash you a smile before turning right back to continue almost yelling across the room in conversation.

of course someone else helped you out, alessia leaning over to push your chair out best she could from the awkward angle as you sat down, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment at the look of glee on beths face and the obvious pity on steph and lias.

still you were determined to continue, but now much more so for your own research than stephs.

which is why a short while later when leah was finally present enough to kiss your cheek hello, you nudged her and engaged in the next test, something she'd done a hundred times over and surely couldn't fail.

"baby can you peel this for me please?" you held out an orange toward the defender who frowned. "you're nearly twenty seven years old and you can't peel your own orange?" leah snickered, the usually playful comment doing nothing to amuse you.

"i got my nails done yesterday lee, can you just do it for me? please?" you remained composed, pushing it a little more toward her. "wouldn't the nails help you peel it more effectively?" she questioned as you caught beths eye who mouthed 'strike three' and made an out gesture with her hands before lia shoved them back down.

"oh forget about it." you huffed, placing it back down on your tray as leah shrugged, picking up her final piece of toast and turning to talk to kim who was sat on her other side.

"give it here." alessia chuckled, snatching your orange and starting to peel it, ignoring your protests you could do it with a wave of her hand and within seconds it was placed back down, the younger girl even getting up to dispose of the peels as she took her empty tray and headed off.

the final nail in the coffin was when leah stood to take her tray back and you held up yours, this time out of instinct and not even intended as a test.

"what your arms broken?" the blonde snickered, taking off and leaving your tray in your hands as you watched on, speechless and now defeated to say the least.

"do they have a strike five in baseball? or six? maybe even seven?" beth pondered as you slumped down into your seat. "she failed. every. single. test." you stared blankly at the table, head swimming with a pool of insecurity.

"hey but they're not real tests! she loves you more than anything, you know that." steph quickly moved to sit beside you, arm draped supportively over your shoulder.

"yeah if those tests were real all they showed us was you should be dating lessi, not leah." beth snickered, whining as lia pinched her harshly and mumbled something about being supportive.

"oi cheer up! look at that rock on your finger, would you have that if leah wasn't a good partner? would you have put up with her all these years if she wasn't? through the dirty dishes, the unfolded laundry, the lack of any culinary skills whatsoever, the-" again both lia and steph winced as beth started strong but very quickly began to fly downhill.

"i think i have to break up with her." you decided with a nod, pushing your chair back and grabbing your tray. "i-you what!" steph scrambled to follow after you as you only nodded and repeated the words.

"you're joking right? tell me this is a joke?" steph questioned as you shrugged, head still ablaze with disbelief at how poorly your own fiancé had done.

as you made your way to the media room for the final part of the day to study this weekends opponents, it seemed even steph was determined to give leah some credit as the two of you took your seats.

despite having left before you the blonde arrived after you, chattering away to lotte as you were too lost in your own bleak world to even pay her any attention.

"leah! do you wanna sit here? with your fiancé? i can move!" steph intervened, standing and offering her chair to the english woman who gave her an odd look. "nah you're fine steph, i see enough of her home." and with a chuckle off she went, taking now stephs final hopes along with her.

"jesus mate maybe you should break up with her." the older girl whispered causing a smile to tug at your lips as you knocked your knee into hers, renée calling for everyone's attention as the last of the chatter faded out and the lights dimmed.

if leah clocked anything was wrong between the two of you on the stoically silent drive home, she made no move to show it as she simply turned the radio up louder and sang along, barely glancing at you despite the simmering anger which was starting to radiate off of you with each road closer to home.

"babe should we get takeout for din-" "i want a divorce leah."

with those words you unbuckled yourself, grabbing your bag from the back and storming off inside, leaving the girl in the car behind you with her mouth hung wide open and your voice echoing in her ears.

coming to her senses at the slam of the front door she scrambled after you, leaving her bag behind and not even locking the car as you heard her fly inside and frantic footsteps pound against the floor as she called out for you.

"what the fuck do you mean you want a divorce? we're not even married yet!" leah came hurtling into the bedroom a hundred mile an hour, finding you sat on the bed unlacing your trainers.

"right well i want to break off the engagement then. get out! dickhead." you hurled a shoe at her which she barely ducked, flopping down into bed and rolling over to show her your back.

"excuse me would you mind telling me whats happened between us having sex in that bed this morning to you now slumped over in it wanting a divorce or an annulment whatever the fuck its called!" leah spat, crossing her arms over her chest and you could feel her eyes bore into you.

"you happened! you failed every single test today and do you know how embarrassing that is? we were engaged leah!" you sat up to huff at her with an evil look before flopping down with your back to her again.

"um last time i checked prior to you losing your actual fucking mind we are engaged! not were, are!" you felt the bed dip as she leaned over you and grabbed your hand, hold it up beside hers so both of your rings were visible.

"fine!" you sat up again, pushing away from her and stalking toward the front door. "what are you doing?" leah groaned dragging her hands down her face. "i'm taking off your engagement ring and its going in the dirt!" you announced, tugging it off your finger and holding it up with a sarcastic smile.

"oh no you're not!" you yelped as hands grabbed at you, pulling you away from the bedroom door as leahs leg shot out to kick it closed and she dragged you back to the bed.

"what. is. wrong. with. you?" the blonde grunted as the two of you wrestled on the mattress, you trying to get away and her trying to wrap you in some sort of death grip so you couldn't.

"let me go!" "no!" "you're an asshole!" "and you're crazy!" "get off me leah! right now!" you ordered, trying to wriggle down the bed before she moved to sit her full bodyweight on top of you, effectively pinning your flailing limbs beneath her knees.

"not until you tell me what the hells going on and why you're acting like this!" the blonde demanded with a glare as suddenly everything building up hit its tipping point and you went limp beneath her.

"why wouldn't you peel an orange for me leah! or share your water! or your socks! or open a door for me! or take my tray! you're supposed to be my fiancé!" you shouted up at her, voice cracking as leah looked down in bewilderment and you went limp beneath her.

"thats what this is about?" leah questioned as you groaned loudly, tugging your hands free to cover your face. "yes leah!"

"tests i failed...those were all tests? to what? see if i'm marriage material?" the english woman moved off of you as you both sat up in bed, a deep sigh leaving you as shook your head.

"steph is dating a bunch of guys and wasn't sure how to tell if any of them are worth the effort. so i was telling her an easy way to find out is a good partner test. like asking someone to peel an orange, or seeing if they open a door for you, or share socks, or their stupid fucking water bottle!" you smacked your fiances arm several times before she caught your hands in hers.

"i tested you years ago and you were the most kind hearted, funny, chivalrous, thoughtful person i'd ever met. so of course when steph didn't believe me that the tests work, i said i'd test you again to show they did." you continued to explain as leahs face paled.

"only you failed them! because you're a stupid selfish dickhead!" you grunted trying to pull your hands free though knowing it was to no doubt smack her again leah held on tightly.

"baby. you can't seriously think a few tests can determine something like that?" leah asked in disbelief as you rolled your eyes. "well apparently not leah because if they did then today showed i should be dating less. not engaged to you!" you pulled your hands free and turned away from her with a scowl.

"leah if you laugh right now i will turn around and punch you in the mouth." you grumbled in warning, hearing an ever so slight chuckle from the blonde beside you.

"you know i think i fell in love with your australian charm, its just so...aggressive. its quite hot!" leah hummed as you felt her lay down, nudging you with her knee when you didn't respond.

"my love. the love of my life. the most beautiful girl i've ever met and the most wonderful woman i get to call my wife soon...hopefully?" leah started as you continued to face away from her glaring at the wall.

"i am very very very sorry for not sharing with you or peeling your oranges and temporarily forgetting how lucky i am to have you. whats mine is yours and clearly i had some sort of brain aneurism today to forget that." leah continued, warily wrapping an arm around your torso, shuffling herself closer when you didn't push her away.

"come on my girl. do you want me to beg? i'm not above begging for forgiveness." you felt her lips gently kiss at your neck as her hand rubbed up and down your side. "it would be a start." you muttered honestly, and within seconds she was knelt down on the floor in front of you.

"please please please please please. will you continue our engagement?" she held up your ring she snagged from the floor where it had fallen, having to resist the urge to smile at her theatrics.

"fine." you gave in with a sigh, offering your hand as leah grinned and slid the ring back onto your finger, quickly trailing kisses all the way up your arm as you couldn't help but laugh.

"get off! idiot." you yanked your arm back as the defender puckered her lips expectantly and you raised an eyebrow.

"i want chinese for dinner, and a back massage." "done!" "and that massage is so be proper, not half assed where you poke me a few times then demand its your turn." "done!" "you do all the laundry on monday." "done!"

"and no watching the golf or the darts for a week." "alright now you're pushing it woman." your fiancé warned as you grinned.

"no golf or darts for three days and you go and make me a cup of tea while i order dinner?" "done. earl grey or english breakfast?" you looked up at her with a slack jaw before she smirked.

"only joking! english breakfast." she flicked your ear and took off out of the bedroom as you sat bolt upright.

"its earl grey leah!"

[angellcherry]

— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.