#happy birthday big toe

[handfulofnickels]

Happy Birthday to Reese “Big Toe” Worthington 🫰❤️ You are the ideal Tsukasa Tenma in my eyes 😊😊😊

[mamawaffle]

if theres one thing i wish i could go back and tell pre-25 simon it would be to just not fuck up your toes at all

[slowdivinqs]

Golden

Summary: A Sunday afternoon on your farm with Joel.

WC: 4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Soft, dorky Joel. We pretend Abby and Joel chatted it out. Joel and JJ moments. Breeding ( ? ) kink. Oral sex f! receiving. PinV. Joel doing physical labor…yeah. Can imagine Pedro or game Joel. Reader can paint!

A/N: I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you for all the love, kind words and support on Magnetism! You all melt my heart. Thank you! I’m not so happy with the smut in this but whatever :,)

The Sade record crackles before your favorite song on the album begins drifting through the air. The birthday gift Joel gave you last year that made hot tears fall out of your eyes, just like him when you gave him a painting of Sarah and Ellie for his birthday that hangs in his woodworking space. Your birthday last year ended with 8 hours spent in the sheets, passed out by the end of it, Joel with a sore back for a week - yet claims it was worth it.

You look up at him right now, peering outside the large kitchen windows and spotting him pulling out carrots, in a tight shirt and his work jeans, arms flexing at the particularly stubborn ones. Banjo following along and sniffing inside Joel’s wicker basket filled with vegetables, his tail smacking into Joel’s side. Rosie and Posie bleating in the distance, their fuzzy woolen coats glowing in the sun, seeming to also take an interest in watching Joel work, just like you.

You hear Banjo’s excited barks before Joel closes the dog's mouth shut with his hand playfully, shaking Banjo’s head side to side lightly, riling him up. The sun starts to set behind them, past the fence surrounding your ranch, behind the tall Wyoming mountains. Orange, pink, and yellow, exploding in waves. The bees returning to their hives from the flower box in front of the kitchen windows．

You laugh when Banjo manages to knock Joel over lightly, the two tumbling onto the grass. Joel laughs too, holding the border collie back with his forearm as he tries to lick Joel’s face with all his might.

You smile to yourself as you get back to work, just as Sade starts singing about ‘his hands’ and ‘the way the mountains look’. Lost in the haze of measuring out ingredients, 2 and 3 quarter cups flour, a quarter cup of sugar. Feeling the weight of the ingredients slide into the bowl. Just as you see Joel slowly walk towards the chicken coup, Banjo waiting in the grass - knowing he’s not allowed there.

Milk and salt are next, and you drift over to the fridge to grab the milk, your long white skirt, embraced with abstract flowery patterns flows against your bare ankles as your toes feel the comforting wooden floors of your warm farm home that Joel made sure to install after you mindlessly talked about your love for warm wooden accents. Sat a 20-minute walk outside the walls of Jackson, a small distance away from Ellie’s farm, closer to the lush woods atop the hills.

As you settle back by the kitchen counter, lit up by warm - almost honey-colored rays of sunlight, you try to spot Joel amongst the chickens, but he seems to have vanished, Banjo too.

You glance around surprised for a moment, your eyes flitting from the coup to the vegetable patches, to the flower beds he planted for you, the fairy garden that he denies he took part in yet carved all of the little toadstool homes for you, and Ellie to paint, and even to Old Beardy grazing in the distance, yet Joel is nowhere to be found.

You even turn to the back door, yet there’s no sign of your man. How can a big teddy bear like him disappear in less than a minute?

You jump and let out an embarrassing squeak as a sudden flash of salt and pepper pops up right on the other side of the window pane. You clutch a hand over your chest as Joel’s face comes into view, his cheeky smile and scruffy beard. Utterly pleased with himself at his success in startling you.

You glare at him half-heartedly, trying to hide the smile that’s inching up your face.

He reaches into one of the large pockets in his jeans, and your attempt at hiding your smile fails when he pulls out a little yellow chick. He lifts it to your view, the little fluff ball wiggling and chirping, looking tiny in Joel’s large, dirty palms. His smile grows wider and tender as he sees you beam at the sight through the window.

He scratches the chick’s head with one of his fingers before walking back to reunite the yellow baby with its mama.

You laugh to yourself at his antics. At a grown, grizzly man, surprising you with a baby chicken. He’s a dork and doesn’t deny the allegations when they’re thrown his way.

Banjo runs circles around the vegetable garden just as the back door opens, closing softly with a click. Joel’s heavy footfall, accentuated by his boots, sounds behind you, getting softer as he heads to the guest bathroom. The house creaks and groans as the water turns on. You’re back to baking.

“Smells real good.”

He hums, his, now soft, footfall appearing once again as he approaches from behind you, burying his face in your neck and sniffling dramatically, you feel his wet beard and hair drip onto your neck, giving you goosies. He’s splashed his face and washed his hands, probably so he can distract you without your scolding.

“Me or the food, old man?” You ask with a smile, continuing to knead the dough.

“‘Mm, both.” He hums, rubbing his facial hair against your neck like a cat. You suspect he might start purring soon. It’s not unlike him, even though he ignores you when you tell him that he basically purrs while snuggling against your chest as you read whatever novel you two have picked aloud to him in the evenings.

“Cinnamon rolls, bread’s in the often.” You hum, tilting your head to the side so he can keep giving you his beard scratches. He starts nibbling too now. You sway your hips slightly to the music, and the way his hands fall to your hips tells you all you need to know.

“Cinnamon rolls.” He repeats amused, smiling against your skin, nibbling again to make you tut at him, grinning when you do.

“Ellie and Dina are comin’ over later.” You say as you grab the jar of cinnamon on the shelf, leaving Joel to step back and watch.

“They bringin’ JJ?” Joel asks, voice loosing his husky tiredness and instead replaced with a lighter sound.

“Yes baby, they’re bringing JJ.” You say with a soft smile, looking back at him only to find he’s disappeared once more. That man is silent as a mouse usually - a habit you suppose. Although, whenever he walks into the house, he does three stomps of his boots - just to make sure you know it’s him. He may have gone soft, but there are some things time will never strip away entirely. His knack for safety is one of them.

Just as you’re finished adding all the wet ingredients to your dry ones, you hear Joel in the living room lowering a box, a few things spilling out. An obnoxious squeak of a toy - you think it’s banjo’s plastic chicken that Joel hid away after the noise drove Joel so insane he accidentally beheaded a cowboy carving he was working on for a month. You catch Banjo’s head shoot up as if he got a sense that his long-lost soulmate is near. Joel hides the chicken away again quickly.

He’s brought out the small bundle of toys you two own - JJ’s toy box - Joel calls it, even made one of those shape sorters and toy soldiers for the little boy to play with, and asked you to paint them when he was done, as he does most of his carvings.

This is the one thing Joel doesn’t try to hide his excitement about. Whenever he sees JJ, or ‘potato’ as Ellie calls him, they might as well be the only people in the world. You think it’s the sweetest thing, makes you want to beg him to have a potato of your own, your body going into overdrive imagining how he’d look at your child while putting them to sleep, how he’d kiss their forehead softly.

Joel begins to organize the toys, placing the few dinosaurs, soldiers, and stuffed animals in a battle scene. The soldiers are apparently no match for the fluffy bear, as he’s flung them around in defeat.

Never did you think you’d see the day that Joel Miller would organize a battle scene between stuffed animals and wooden soldiers, just to see JJ’s face light up in excitement - like the little boy's face doesn’t already do that when he just sees Joel as the front door opens.

You manage to pull your eyes away and start folding your dough. Smiling to yourself at your sweet sweet man. Your stomach swoops the more you think, kneading the dough mindlessly as you’re painfully reminded how badly you want it. How badly you want him to pump you full, make you swell. You don’t even notice how your eyes have gone hazy, kneading the dough harder and harder until you jump at Joel’s big hands cupping your wrists from behind, pulling them upwards slightly to relax them. His beard tickles the fly always at the back of your neck as he kisses the soft skin there.

“What’s got my lady all worked up, hm?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing down the side and inhaling, almost like he wants to brand himself with you.

“You.” You whisper shakily, squeezing the dough slightly like an anchor. You feel his cheeky, boyish smile against your skin, only for a moment before he replaces that smirk with a nibble.

“Me?” He asked softly, planting his chin over your shoulder to watch as you ‘work’, definitely not to watch the way his calloused hands cup over your tits. The dough between your palms is the only thing keeping you stable right now.

“Yes, you.” It’s a breathy whisper, and although he doesn’t see it - Joel already knows your eyes are drooping when you tip your head back slightly, able to breathe in that perfect scent of him after he’s spent the day working in the sun. The musk that is uniquely Joel, that screams man man man.

“Don’t know what you mean, honey bee.” He hums, his mouth ghosting over your earlobe just as his thumbs circle over where your nipples are unfortunately hidden away from him. He knows exactly what you mean.

“Why don’t you head South and find out then, cowboy?” You tease, expecting a playful slap and pinch of your ass before he wanders off to the shower, but instead, you find his hands, then his whole self sliding down down down until his knees plant themselves on the floor.

“Gonna let me spoil my desert?” He hums, his hands sliding slowly up from your ankles, bringing your skirt with them, until he can see the little cotton-lace panties that are hidden underneath. He bites the soft swell of your right asscheek that the cotton doesn’t cover.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip softly as you arch your back slightly, leaning your weight on the dough, squeezing harder as the soft caress of your thighs leaves you dripping - more so than before.

“You know I’d let you do anything.” You whisper to him, and it’s all he needs before you feel his calloused fingers on your lower back, sinking into your underwear before dragging them down, burying his head under your skirt.

He throws your panties somewhere, with a proper flick of his wrist. You can see them land somewhere in your periphery, the white lace discarded, very Joel-like in the most crude matter possible.

“Joel!-“ you begin to exclaim before his warm tongue parts your slick folds with an obscene sound. Slurping up the wetness he’s found as his calloused hands grip the front of your thighs. Squeezing tightly like it’ll let him get his tongue deeper into your pussy.

You almost want to laugh at what it must look like: his head buried under your long white skirt, like a ghost he probably dressed up as for Halloween. But fortunately for him, you can’t laugh when his mouth has sealed around the hood of your clit, when it’s hot hot hot and wet.

“Oh, Joel-” you moan in a breathless gasp, your head falling back and then forward as his tongue licks the underside of your clit, making you squeeze the poor dough for it’s life.

He groans into your pussy, tongue leaving your clit to lick side to side, sliding down your cunt until it’s breaching your drenched hole. His hands grip your ass-cheeks tightly, eating at you like it’s his last meal.

He pushes two of those thick fingers inside you, instantly curling forward so deliciously you think you might die. You lose your voice, moaning hoarsely as you clench around the intrusion. He starts moving his hand faster, paired with the suckling of his hot mouth on your clit, you’re not going to last much longer.

“Give it t’me baby- let me have it.” He whispers against you, and it’s his words that do it, as well as that final crook of his fingers that hit you right where you need him. You’re cumming with an intensity only he can give you. He slurps up all the wetness he can until you’re whining at him that it's ‘too much, too much’ and he stands. Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before kissing you deeply. Guiding his tongue into your mouth just as he had done your pussy.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, and your chest blooms, blinking up at him as he looks into your eyes with a calm tenderness like you’re exactly what he always dreamed of - like he lay awake at night as a little boy getting giddy at the thought that one day you might be real, and now you are, more importantly: you’re his, and he’s yours.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, kissing him once more before he’s once again lifting your hands from the dough, which now looks positively mixed from your absent-minded squeezing.

“‘M gonna go shower, baby.” He says softly, stepping back from you just as you turn to look at him.

“You’re gonna deny a woman her fun?” You ask with a raise of your eyebrow, looking down as he re-adjusts his jeans. His hands glancing at your ass before smirking at something you don’t see yet.

“You’ll get your fun later, baby.” He says with an amused smile, before he’s turning and heading upstairs. You sigh and look around the kitchen, laughing brightly as you see your panties dangling on the hook by the back door, how he flung them so far, you’ll never know.

There’s a knock at the door at 5pm sharp, and Joel bounds down the stairs before walking to the door, the creak of it sweet before the sounds of ‘hello!’ and ‘how’s it going, old man?’ ring through the house. You move away from the kitchen to great Dina and Ellie as they walk in, JJ already cooing excitedly in Joel’s arms as he hugs Dina, then Ellie from the side. Smiling widely at the little boy.

“Hey Els, Dina.” You say softly as Ellie gives you a tight squeeze, her mullet brushed neatly, most likely done by Dina. The Ellie you know would let her hair stick in every direction like the wild child she is and always will be.

“Smells good.” Ellie says softly, a hand on the small of Dina’s back before she’s walking to the kitchen to inspect what you’ve made. You see Ollie - JJ’s favorite toy elephant that Ellie won in the Jackson Fair at 19 - hanging out of her back pocket. You smile at the similarities between Joel and Ellie, clear that he raised her in subtle ways. The most obvious being her recent taking for boots, jeans and flannels. She goes over to Joel and JJ after that, crouching behind Joel who’s sat on the carpet by his battle scene, giving him a bear hug from behind.

The afternoon is spent chatting away with Dina, Ellie occasionally chiming in, yet all three of you mainly watch Joel and JJ playing on the living room rug. Your home is filled with the delighted laughter of a child. Ellie joins in soon too, taking on the role of the toy dinosaurs which makes JJ shriek with laughter as they attack Joel’s stuffed bear, then Joel himself.

Everything is warm.

You all eat together. Roasted Venison with salad and bread, cinnamon rolls later that JJ tries to devour whole while sitting on Joel’s lap - similarly to Ellie who sneaks an extra two with Joel in the kitchen when they think their respective partners aren’t looking.

They stay in the small cottage outside which Joel made sure was perfect before their arrival. JJ and Dina fast asleep as you, Ellie and Joel find place on the couch watching some cheesy action movie that Ellie picked. Just like old times when she was a young teenager. She still leans against Joel’s shoulder all the same. Both of his girls in his arms as lights flash across the screen. You glance up at his face once, and smile when seeing he looks as happy as can be.

He deserves this, he deserves to be happy. Even if he might not believe it, you do, and you’ll let hell freeze over before you stop trying to make him happy.

Ellie bids you goodnight before going to curl up in bed with Dina and JJ. Similarly to the way Joel follows up the stairs behind you as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Smirking at the twinkle in his eye you see as you pull out his favorite night dress of yours

You’ve just finished up in the bathroom when you walk back into your shared bedroom. Joel shucking off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. You admire his broad back in the low light of the bedroom. The shadows dusting along his muscles like rivers.

You float up behind him this time, your nose pressed to the line down his back, hands wrapped around his stomach.

“I want one.” You whisper into the quiet night, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. He turns to face you - you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Want what, darlin’?” He whispers softly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek as he breaths softly. You can hear his heart beating, in sync with yours.

“A baby.” You whisper, and it’s so silent, so quiet. His eyes glimmer and brighten, his breath bated as he looks down at you.

“You want that with me, sweet girl?” He whispers, his voice suddenly hoarse and thick.

“More than anything.”

He kisses you deeply, his hand burying at the hair on the back of your head. Cupping the bowl of your skull so tenderly you can feel his love for you pulse through your veins. Your arms wrap rest on his broad shoulders.

“Me too, baby. Me too.” He whispers, and emotion wraps around your throat, as you can tell it does his when you see the shine in his sweet eyes.

You fall to the bed together, his boxers discarded as he makes quick work of your night gown. Kissing along your breasts until you’re driven so positively crazy you need him to soothe it with his mouth.

Your hand wraps around his shaft and you gaze into his eyes as they flutter slightly at the sensation of your fingers, his own meet you there, guiding him inside you until you both gasp softly at the sensation. He lets his hips push in all the way moments after. Your walls grip around him, the thick, hot - length of him, pushing its way through you until he fits into the space he’s made for himself within you. The noise of your wetness clenching around his girth as he holds himself over you on his strong forearms is nothing short of one of Joel’s favorite erotic sound.

“I love you, I love you so damn much.” He whispers, his large - paw like hand cupping your skull as he grinds his pelvis against your pulsing clit, listening to the soft shk shk shk as his cock twitches inside you, pushing up against that spot inside you that turns you stupid.

“I love you too.” You whimper, barely able to think past the way your eyes are rolling. He hasn’t even thrusted yet. You don’t catch the way he’s gazing down at you, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like you own every part of his heart and soul, like you might as well be living and breathing within his ribcage : as if you’re the sole thing causing that glow he seems to have.

He starts moving, slow, deep slaps of his hips against yours. Holding you against him as you arch your back slightly, making sure he digs against that spot that drives you wild.

Your fingers dig red lines down his broad back. His head falling forward as he groans so deep and roughly you think you might die from being overly aroused. This man does things to you that you can’t even explain with words, your cries of pleasure seem to communicate it well enough though. Everything is hot and wet and sticky as he whispers into your ear.

“You’re gon’ be such a good mama- fuck darlin’ - take it, yeah-“ he groans into your ear, and your whole body shivers. You clench tighter around him, making him gasp slightly as his hand finds your clit. “Got me achin’ f’you all day baby-“ he whines - whines - into your ear, the soft skin of his balls drags against the curve of your ass, just like his tip dragging through your walls, taking you higher and higher until you can’t even hear the noises you’re making.

He rubs your clit harder, round and round on that pulsing nub until you open your eyes and see his disheveled face. Skin flushed, hair a mess, and his gaze fluttering as he moves his hips against you- his big strong body shining with sweat.

You’re done for.

You dig your heel into the soft flesh of his ass, pulling him closer and locking your legs around him, trapping him deep inside of you.

“Please cum inside me-“ you whimper, gazing into his eyes as he fights with all his might to make sure you cum first, his hand doesn’t let up on your clit, and you clench. “Please let me have it-“

His groan breaks into a soft whine as he drops onto his forearms, face right in front of yours, his nose bumping into your own. You can feel his harsh breaths against your swollen lips.

When you feel him start to fill you up on a slamming thrust, you cum with him, clenching tighter every time you feel one of his thick, sticky ropes shoot inside you while his cock twitches wildly inside you - his moans even sweeter than the sensation.

“Oh god, I love you-“ he whimpers, his moan cracking as you push him impossibly closer with your heel, his hands gripping the sheets next to your head for dear life. He kisses you messily, tiredly as you both lie there - sweaty and catching your breaths.

“I love you.” You whisper back to him, your hand running through his messy hair as you litter kisses along his damp forehead. He nuzzles into you like a big bear still inside you as he softens.

“You need somethin’?” He asks once he’s found his thoughts again, sitting up slightly before you pull him back down with an ‘oof ’.

“Just you.” You whisper back sleepily, your eyes closing shut as you bask in the feeling and love he gives you. You feel a soft kiss to your jaw. His hand splaying over your tummy.

“You got me, baby. Always.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading ! ♡ please lmk if you enjoyed it and reblog if you did ◡̈

[januaryembrs]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but think he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?

Length: 8k

Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.

main masterlist.

author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!

He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression. 

He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul. 

Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl. 

Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.

“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”

She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek. 

She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.

Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal. 

“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie. 

“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not. 

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before. 

“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his. 

“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,” 

She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them. 

“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”

She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,” 

But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t. 

“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word. 

Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him. 

“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,” 

Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.  

Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.

–

Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together. 

Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice. 

Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.

Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning. 

“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”

He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask. 

“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee. 

“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her. 

“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,” 

“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore. 

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable. 

“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating. 

Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel. 

Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue. 

“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question. 

His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?” 

Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly. 

“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him. 

“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair. 

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror. 

“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy. 

“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her. 

“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her. 

“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague. 

“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”

He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that. 

He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.

And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor. 

The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning. 

-

They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive. 

“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house. 

The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“ 

“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?” 

“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud. 

But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features. 

“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole. 

Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified. 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it. 

“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,” 

“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified. 

She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window. 

“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?” 

He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would. 

He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.

Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.

“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”

“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.

“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you���d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”

Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it. 

“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”

“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.

“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”

“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”

“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”

“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”

She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.

–

They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of. 

And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.

She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.

“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”

“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.

She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.

“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”

“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies. 

She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face. 

“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.

“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.

“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”

Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”

“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love. 

“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”

JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.

Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”

She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.

The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.

“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.

“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”

Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.

But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.

He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.

—

It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.

In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.

It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.

“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.

“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,” 

Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.

“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”

“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”

And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.

They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?

Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.

She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft. 

“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.

“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.

“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too. 

Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.

“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.

“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”

He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response. 

“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.

“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”

“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months. 

Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”

“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.

“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem. 

Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him. 

“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time. 

He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world. 

“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”

“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips. 

“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,” 

“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”

Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.

“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.

He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground. 

“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”

She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped. 

“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?” 

He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?” 

She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.

“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?” 

He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.

“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.  

“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”

Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right. 

He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.

He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.

He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.

“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”

Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.

“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.

And she believed him.

--

[nativegirltapes]

drew didn’t like to make a big deal out of his birthday, but unfortunately (fortunately) for him, he’s dating angel, the girl who makes it her life mission to celebrate his birthday !

notes — small birthday blurb for my babydaddyyyy <3 nothing that special.

you knew it was dangerous when drew gave you a copy of his key for his apartment. coming to steal his clothes and dig in his snacks was fun and sneaky, but planning a surprise party for him while he was away all day was definitely at the top of the list.

“i want everything to be perfect! we need to rehearse one more time!” you shouted. “everyone get in position!”

“really?” JD complained, although he was definitely speaking for everyone involved in the surprise. this was your 6th time making everyone rehearse for when drew got home. “yes. really. now get in position.” you rebutted, everyone ultimately listened and got into position. they knew how much this meant to you. they knew how much drew meant to you.

“wait!” your eyes shot open at the noise of drew stomping down the hallway. “he’s actually here! everyone positions now! for real this time!” you took your spot standing a few feet from the door, holding the fresh flowers you bought for drew.

your stomach did flips as you heard drew fiddling with the lock, you just wanted everything to be perfect for him. and more importantly you just wanted him to like it.

“SURPRISE!” everyone shouted as drew opened the door. a huge grin took over his face as he set his bag on the floor, immediately coming to embrace you.

you heard mumbled ‘happy birthday drew’s’ being yelled by everyone as he hugged you. he left kisses all along your ear and cheeks, “happy birthday drew.” you said softly, pulling away from the hug and giving drew his flowers. you were surrounded by dozens of people but still this moment felt so intimate. “thank you baby.” drew kissed you before making his way to his other friends and guests that you’d managed to all round up on the same day, all to celebrate him.

⋆˚࿔ 🎂 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

after a few hours of socializing with drew’s friends and castmates, some of who you loved and some of which you couldn’t stand, you’d finally gotten drew alone upstairs in his room for a bit.

“you did all this for me?” drew wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to him. a small smirk took over his face as he looked down at you. you looked absolutely stunning. you couldve gotten him nothing and he’d still be happy just being able to come home to you.

“yes.” you batted your lashes, your soft voice giving him butterflies. “there isn’t anyone else i would want to do it for.” you stood on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “you mean that?” drew teased, his hands making there way down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“do you want to find out?” you pulled him by the collar of his shirt back to the bed. drew wasn’t the only one getting what he wanted for his birthday.

[4rafe]

rafe cameron

setting down the perfect shade of a baby pink louis vuitton backpack onto rafes messy bed. he had got you a full set of louis vuitton luggage for your birthday just a couple of weeks ago, personalized it with such a beautiful pink and your name embroidered on.

opening your bag, mindlessly going through the couple of pairs of brandy melville pajama sets you packed with you and choosing which one you wanted to wear more. choosing between one and the other was so complicated but when all else fails, you can always rely on the opinion from a man with the name, rafe cameron!

you picked up both sets, making sure the cute design showed perfectly with a huge giggly smile on your face. the sounds of your feet hitting the wood floor as you were walking up to him to ask the big question, "rafey, which one" you smiled big, only your eyes peeking over the pj sets as you held them up for his decision. even though you gave him two options, there was one you 'picked out' in specific. insisting he answer 'correctly' with the tone in your voice.

he turned around to look at you when you called his name following with a question. his eyebrows furrowed from the petty little design that covered the sets of your clothing. raising his pointer finger to choose which set even as the words came out of his mouth, "that one, bunny." he answered as his phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket to answer.

you squealed to yourself with a big happy smile on your face, you were ecstatic that he choose the one you wanted him to even though you knew either one would have been just.. fine. you thought to yourself about your silliness to ask whenever you knew what you wanted to wear but it was much better having rafey pick for you.

when he choose, you stood up on your tippy toes as far as you could to reach rafes cheek as he held his phone up to his ear on the other side, giving him a sloppy kiss for his decision before having to come back down as you couldn't stand on them for very long. being in a talking stage with a man who stood at 6'1" came with its many different challenges, romantic ones included but, in all ends, you really liked it.

making your way back to rafes bed where your backpack still laid you heard him mumble something to you. hearing his mumbles made you turn back around, looking at him, "hm?" you questioned. notifying to rafe that you don't know what he had asked of you the first time but now he had your attention.

rafe brought his hand up to chin, rubbing slowly as if he was in a trance of thought, "why do you bring that backpack with you every time you stay, princess?" he had asked of you. you turned around to face him, placing the backpack onto the ground after all decisions were made. "its my spend-the-night bag!" you smiled big at him and giggled in response.

"what the hell is a spend-the-night bag, that's fuckin stupid." he said to you and your smile dropped instantly which was so weird because you knew how rafe was, mean. but he never really meant it "mean" towards you it still doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

he saw as your smile dropped, knowing his words hurt you tremendously. he waved his hand at you, telling you to come to him. he took a seat on the bench that was placed in his room, as you walked towards him. as you stood in front of him, he wrapped his fingers around your thigh, pulling you forward as he guided your legs around his. as you sat down on his lap you let down your head, feeling embarrassed that he saw his words effect you so much. he brought his hand up to your chin, feeling his cold golden rings on your skin, lifting it up so you were looking at his eyes and he started to explain to you,

"bunny.. all im saying is, everyone in this shitty town knows you're mine. there's no need to keep bringing your stuff back and forth. just move all your stuff in with me." hearing his sweet words made a big smile appear on your face again which made rafey smile as well. he made you so happy, it was silly, you were head over heels for him and you wanted everyone to know it.

later that week, you were all moved in. so so in love.

[tothosewhoyearnforit]

am i yours or are you mine - chaewon

-im back. might edit this later

-trying to finish my drafts so maybe have hope im posting more.

-2373 words. student-teacher relationship. daddy kink. oral. deepthroat. pussyeating. unprotected sex. breeding? creampie. happy bday chae chae !

Am I yours or are you mine?

Chaewon asked that question right before she was bobbing her head up and down on your length, a mixture of drool and precum trailing, dripping down onto her skirt.

You look at the neatly decorated bed, the work of none other than you. Illegal as it is for a professor to be in a student’s dorm room without any prior permission, any risk is worth fucking Chaewon. It's even riskier considering the fact that her roommate, Yunjin, shares the same room as her, could waltz in at anytime.

But you know she won’t tell. After all, you're dicking her down too. Gosh, her lips, so meant for dick sucking.

You look at the gorgeous slut squatting for you obscenely, her legs spread as she slobbered over your meat, dressed in her school girl outfit, feeding even more to your ill desires.

Was it really her birthday? Or was this “present” for you?

She unsheathes your raging erection, and rests your cock on her right cheek, stroking your length while staring at you.

The sheer size of your cock against her face was feeding into your size kink way too much, it was almost like one of those porno pairings where a burly buff dude fucks the brains out of the tiniest pornstar.

“Aren’t you unusually hard today professor?”

“I- You’re just so hot today Chaewon…”

“It’s the student outfit isn’t it, you sick pervert.”

She chuckles at your stammering.

“Looks like my reward is about to be a big one.”

And with that, she goes back down on your length, this time wrapping your arms around the underside of your thighs and increasing the pace at which she gobbles your length up. The amount of sticky, viscous liquid that's dripping down from her chin secretes at an even greater rate and your mind is practically going wild at the mere sight of your student slutting herself.

“Oh, fuck, Chaewon…”

Toes curling, head thrown back, it’s only been a week since you both last fucked, yet it felt like forever.

“Are you close daddy?”, she asks as she takes your shaft out to take a breath. Her pearly round eyes stare up at you and you realize the innocence you're destroying. She then sucks on your tip for a good few seconds, that tongue of hers being used to lick so accurately at your slit that you feel a prickly sensation rush down to your toes and fingertips. Then, she pushes her head down all the way and hollows her cheeks out, her tongue now making lazy, sloppy movements on the underside of your length. Her hands peel yours off from your awfully tight grip on the bedsheets and place it at the back of her head, gesturing for you to push her head down.

“Fuck, Chaewon, gonna shoot my load so deep down your throat…”

You push her head down till you feel her tiny nose on your pelvis and your balls rest on her chin. She’s so ready to choke on your cock. So ready to accept your load. In her warmth, your cock is throbbing like mad.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking cumming down your throat Chae!”

Her hands tighten their grip on your legs as she braces for your load. And as if saying a prayer, all your lips mumble out are feeble mentions of her name.

One spurt.

After another.

And another, as she slowly removes herself from your cock, her suction never ending.

She opens her mouth while cum is still spurting out of your tip and a splash of the pearly white liquid lands on her cheek. Inside her mouth, a pool of potential kids get sloshed around by her playful tongue before she gulps it down and savors the taste with a resounding “ahh”.

“Thanks for the thick, warm load daddy.”

She uses her finger to swipe the cum on her cheek into your mouth.

“But I’m going to need a rough fucking tonight.”

She peels her thin black thong off and places it in your palm. It's full of moisture and warmth, the naughty student is oh so ready for her private tutoring.

After climbing out of her shirt and skirt, she lies on the bed and spreads her legs and with two fingers, spreads her pussy lips. She’s inviting you in, like a deer on a barren flowery field and you’re the wolf, ready to pounce.

“Come give your favorite student a nice hands on lesson, professod.”

“Such a disobedient student, always teasing the professor.”

You climb onto the bed, and dive your head right between her inviting legs. Her legs instinctively close up on you, like those of a Venus flytrap, but you use your hands and push them away, spreading her legs even further than they were before.

“I just shaved yesterday, just for you, sir.”

“Such a good girl, but a bit of hair isn't against school rules you know…”

You place gentle loving kisses on her inner thigh before running your tongue against her slickening heat.

“I’ve missed my favorite student's top tier pussy so much…”

“Oh, fuck…That’s it daddy. Ravage my pussy.”

Chaewon is just like how you were not too long ago, a whimpering mess, at the mercy of the one giving head.

She tastes so good, a complete diorama of flavors hitting your palate at once. Sweet like a sakura with a hinge of bitterness reminding you how lewd and taboo this very act of eating out your own student is.

You feel the vibrations she sends as her hands are unable to support her anymore as you probe your tongue deeper and deeper into her slick, causing her to lie back onto the hotel bed while her hands find your head, her fingers running through your hair.

Looking up at her, you can see her toned body, her abs, her perky tits, it seems like basketball is doing its magic in keeping her fit. You look at her hard nipples heaving up and down as a result of her heavy breaths and you can't resist bringing your hands up and giving those nubs a pinch.

“Fuck, wait, sir. I’m so sensitive right now.”

She’s moaning more and more now. The walls of the dorm room might not be thick enough, and a professor leaving the student dorms so late at night? Surely someone is going to suspect something.

The next dorm room definitely won't say anything, that's for sure. It belongs to another two of your cock slave students, the Japanese duo of Kazuha and Sakura.

Heck, you’re even banging the milfy dorm keeper, Tiffany.

Maybe to escape, you’d just have to fuck your way out of the dorm building.

You’re probing your tongue even deeper now, sucking on her clit as well. Every drop getting past your lips is so damn addictive that you can't detach yourself for anything other than to inhale.

“Fuck, daddy! I’m gonna fucking-!”

Her back arches further than it ever has, as she climaxes. Her body convulses due to the stimulation she’s received, and instinctively, her legs close around you, thighs squeezing your head shut, the flytrap of Venus herself secreting the sweet substance for the poor fly (you) to be devoured by.

Akin to the fly, you're sucking in all the precious Chaewon juice, her little “ahhs” and tiny aftershocks showing how good of a job you're doing.

“Oh… That felt so good.”

She’s heaving sighs of relief, slowly calming down from her high. But you. You fucking rock hard, as if you didn’t just shoot a pent up load down her throat.

You flip her over to doggy style in a horny hurry and she yelps in surprise.

Running your finger between her pussy lips, you trace your way up to her puckered asshole.

“Since it's your special day, I let you choose which hole gets destroyed first. Your tight little pussy getting a fresh load shot straight into your womb? Or this tight fuckhole that’s sure to leave you unable to sit properly?”

She looks back at you.

Both are new options to her. She hasn't felt a warm load all the way in her womb since you always keep a pack of condoms in your drawer at the staff room. And anal always requires lube which neither of you want to bring around.

“I’m feeling dangerous today, prof. How bout I take the pill tomorrow morning, but you empty all the cum you have into your favorite student pussy?”

“I would love nothing more, my top slut.”

Lining yourself up behind her, you give that perky little butt a cheeky slap.

“Such a cute butt, always teasing me as you walk into class.”

“Is it really teasing if you pound it senselessly afterward?”

Chaewon deprives you of the chance to savor the initial penetration, slowly pressing her hips into your pelvis as your tip parts her folds. Your hands find their way onto each respective ass cheek, holding on for stability as you inch your way into her tight pussy.

“Always so fucking tight and warm for me. Feels exactly like a virgin’s pussy. That’s why you're my favorite cocksleeve.”

“Thank you professor. Kazuha kept saying you liked her pussy more. I found that so hard to believe.”

“In terms of folding her into the lewdest positions possible, nobody is beating her. But your pussy is so tight that you don't need any positions.”

The way her walls of muscles wrap around your cock makes you dreamy as you pick up the pace and thrust your hips even more in her.

“Ah, fuck! So fucking big daddy!”

Soon, your hips are donning a mind of their own, thrusting mercilessly and harshly as the slapping of skin on skin becomes more and more frequent. Your mind is sending messages to your mouth, but all you can make out is “fuck” and “ohh”.

When she looks back at you, she has a face full of bliss and lust, a small indication that you can go faster, destroy her pussy with less hesitation.

It really begs the question again.

Am I yours or are you mine?

You give her right ass cheek another slap. The red hand print becomes more and more prominent, just like how loud her screams are becoming with each slap. There’s no need to worry if she’s feeling hurt or not, because you know for sure that her mind is in a state of only euphoria, drunk on your cock moving in and out of her pussy faster than she can think.

“Such a good slut. Willing to spend her birthday with her perverted professor rather than her friends.”

“Nothing beats your cock daddy. Nothing.”

Those words fuel your engine even more, giving you renewed energy to go faster.

“DADDY!”

She screams ever so obscenely. Anybody studying or sleeping would be sure to be in a state of shock.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum so hard over daddy’s dick.”

You put both her hands together behind her back, handcuffing them with one hand of your own, then pulling her towards you till your face is buried in her neck and you can whisper against her neck.

You can feel the sweat that has collected on your two bodies, a result of your hot, intense lovemaking session.

“Then cum baby girl. Cum as much as you want.”

You make your thrusts as fast as you can possibly go, and the sounds she makes sound like a jackhammer go ham on the ground.

“Yes, daddy, yes, yes, yes, yes. Fuck your slut stupid daddy so you can teach me all again.”

You feel her muscles tense up for that brief moment as she finally cums. Her core is no longer even trying to keep her in that kneeling position. She is squealing, squirting, spraying her slick juices onto the walls and onto your cock as you hold onto her to keep her upright.

But your thrusts never cease, as you can feel the throbbing of your cock once again, a huge climax on the nigh.

“Cum in me please daddy. Shoot your load deep in me daddy.”

You’re so fucking close.

“Think about how you might get your favorite student pregnant, sir. We could become fuck partners for life.”

And that about does it for you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, you growl, the intensity of your voice matching how hard your hips are thrusting, smacking her butt.

You don't even make it back in fully before the cum starts shooting.

Your thrusts are now timed according to your spurts of cum, Chaewon moaning with each lazy thrust of warm semen that she feels getting pumped to her womb.

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoumylittleslutstudent” is all you can muster into the crook of her neck while Chaewon replies with whimpers and heavy pants.

The throbbing finally subsides, and every fiber of your being finally registers how vigorous you have been fucking your student and fatigue kicks in. You let go of your grip on her hands and let her slump on her bed, before you eventually join her.

“Feels so fucking warm daddy…”, she mutters in between heavy breaths.

She sits up as you stay lying down, body completely exhausted. She gets into the same position she did when she first got onto the bed and spreads her pussy lips for you again. The fresh, warm cum that you just deposited, slowly spilling onto the sheets.

Chaewon pushes two fingers into her creampied pussy and scoops some baby batter up and licks it off her fingers, before scooping any spillage and pushing it back into her pussy.

It’s such a lewd sight that you feel your cock twitching back to life.

“You might have just knocked me up, professor.”

She looks briefly at the digital clock on the wall.

“It’s Thursday, meaning I have no lessons tomorrow.”

Climbing over you, facing away from you such that her ass is staring right at you, she spreads her cheeks apart, showing you her asshole clench and release. She looks back and smiles.

“You’ve completed just 2 out of 3 of the lesson module daddy. Time for the final teaching right daddy?”

It’s bout to be a long fucking night.

[fallingformatt]

BIRTHDAY SEX M.S.

bestfriend!Matt x fem!reader

summary: Matt can’t control himself seeing you in your black, little dress you’re wearing for your birthday, so he gifts himself to you.

warnings: THIS IS PURE FILTH!!! Fingering (f receiving) oral (m receiving) unprotected sex

word count: 3.4k

a/n: This one’s long, but I’ve had this scenario in my head for so long, I promise you won’t regret reading this. not proofread.

➽───────────────❥

It was my 20th birthday today, I didn’t want to do much for my birthday as I didn’t want to deal with the planning of everything. I decided that I was going to buy myself a cake and just celebrate by myself.

It’s almost 6 pm and it’s starting to get dark outside, I decided to blow out my birthday candles so I quickly got ready to be pretty for myself, I decided to leave on my pink silk robe after taking a shower and decided not to change into anything special. I put on some makeup and put rollers in my hair. A true housewife birthday. I sat down on the floor at my living room coffee table ready to light up the candles when I heard a knock at my door. Confused I get up to see who it is, I open the door and it’s Matt.

“Hey birthday girl! Happy birthday!” He says happily with a huge smile on his face as he gives me a tight hug.

“Matt, what are you doing here?” I ask confused by his unexpected arrival.

I scan him head to toe getting even more confused. He’s wearing oversized jeans that are only held on by his belt and a black t-shirt “Why aren’t you in sweatpants? Are you going somewhere?” I ask confused.

“No silly WE are going somewhere. Did you really think I was going to forget your birthday? That’s what best friends are for. C'mon get dressed, everyone is already there” Matt said keeping the big smile on his face. My confusion wasn’t cleared up not even a bit, why was he here, where are we going, and why is everyone already there?

Without saying anything he enters my apartment and walks to the living room plopping into my white, big couch. “Aw how sweet, you were gonna blow out your birthday candles, the cake can wait, get dressed,” he said as he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his oversized jeans. Still confused I walk past him and into my room to get dressed leaving a small part of my door open so I can hear him.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going” I shout from my room as I strip down from my pink robe walking over to my dresser to find a bra and panties. I pull out a matching black set. A sheer black mesh part for the bra with a small pink bow in the middle of the bra and the same cute little bow on the back of the thong.

“You’ll find out when we get there, get dressed quickly,” he says.

“Well I don’t know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going” I angrily said and looked at the door as I put on my lingerie and was now headed to my closet.

Suddenly I hear fast footsteps coming towards my room and the next second Matt is in my room looking at me only in my lingerie. My eyes widen as he looks at me, staring me down and a smirk creeps on his lips.

“Well you know what lingerie to wear I think you’ll figure out what to wear,” he says teasingly.

I grab a pillow from my bed and throw it at him “Get out Matt” I shout.

He puts up his hands on either side of his chest making a ‘I didn’t do anything wrong’ face before leaving my room and once again sitting down on the white couch.

“Wear that little black dress you got, the one that shows off your ass every time you take a step” he shouts in a low voice from the living room.

My eyes widen as I hear the words coming from the living room “Matthew are you constantly looking at my ass?!” I shout angrily while sifting through my closet to find something to wear.

“You can’t blame me, you do look hot in that little black dress,” he answers.

'That's it, you know what Matt? I will wear that dress, just to tease you and get revenge for walking in on me changing' I thought to myself.

I quickly searched through my closet and my eyes lit up when I saw the dress Matt was talking about. It really was a small black dress, which I had worn maybe like 3 times total. The dress bearly covered my ass and the top of the dress was finished with a small lace trim. I quickly put on the dress and walked to the mirror which is located above my dresser. While looking at the mirror I take out the rollers from my hair giving me the perfect blowout look. I put in my favorite gold earrings, and touch up my lips with some lip liner and lip gloss, I put on my favorite kitten heels and finally spray on some perfume, which made me and the room smell like coffee and vanilla. I took a last look in the mirror and I was feeling myself, 'I look so good, good thing I did my makeup and put my hair in rollers' I thought to myself.

I walk out of my room and see Matt's head turning to look at me, his cheerful, innocent gaze turning dark as a lustful smile creeps on his face as he stares me down leaving his gaze on my legs and my ass.

"You look so good princess," he says as he gets up from the couch walking closer to me. "You ready to go beautiful?" he asks.

"Yeah let's go” I say as I walk past him heading for the door as I grab my little black channel bag that the triplets got me as a gift for my last birthday. It goes perfectly with my outfit.

Matt follows me outside and I lock the door behind me and we head to his car. We both get in and Matt pulls out of the parking lot. He starts driving and puts on some music as he drives. The inside of the car is dark and the only light is coming from the street lights but I still can see Matt if I look at him.

Im looking outside the window admiring the view as we pull up to a fancy restaurant. “We’re here,” Matt says and I turn to look at him and see him staring at my thighs while licking his lips. I turn my head to look back outside the window as I smirk to myself that my plan is working. I open the car door to get to out and purposely pop out my butt while getting out. Matt also gets out the car and locks it.

We walk to the entrance of the restaurant and Matt holds the door open for me. As I walk past him I nod my head as a ‘thank you’. While walking in further I feel Matt’s hand on my lower back guiding me to where we should go. We get to this big round table in the middle of the restaurant and everyone is sitting around the fancy set up table. I smile as I look at everyone and wave.

“I brought the birthday girl” Matt says cheerfully and pulls me closer to his side. Everyone wishes me a happy birthday and we sit down at the table and the only free seats were next to each other.

We all enjoy each other’s company and the delicious food while talking with each other. Through out the whole dinner I was ignoring Matt and not paying any attention to him, talking with everyone but him.

“Did you like the surprise?” Chris asks while sitting across the table from me. I continue the conversation, when suddenly I feel a cold hand creeping its way on my thigh under the table. My eyes widen and my head instantly shoots to look at Matt. He slowly turns to look at me and has a smirk plastered across his face his blue eyes growing dark with dirty intentions. I try to brush his hand off of my thigh but he wraps his hand tighter around my thigh as his cold rings dig in to my skin. I give up and try not to draw any attention to whats going on.

As the evening continues, I continue to ignore him, ‘if he wants to leave his hand on my thigh he can, but he’s not getting any of my attention’ I think to myself.

While I’m talking with Madi, Matt notices that I don’t care about his hand on my thigh. Mid sentence, I feel his hand sliding up closer to my core and my breath hitches. “Are you okay?” Madi asks with concerned expression. “Yeah I’m fine, where were we?” I respond still continuing to ignore Matt and not giving into his touch.

Suddenly I feel Matt’s hand moving even further, his fingers reaching and tracing my clothed clit. I squeeze my thighs together and let out a heavy breath, feeling myself getting wet. “Are you really okay?” Nick now asks me. I know this won’t end and I don’t want anyone to catch us so I had to lie, I try to gather myself so I can answer Nick. “I’m not sure, I think I need to lay down” I answer. “Oh, that’s not good,” Nick says, making a sad expression before continuing, “Matt could you take her home, and see if she’s alr-“ before Nick even got to finish his sentence Matt removes his hand from my thigh completely before he quickly gets up and nods to Nick. I also get up, “thank you everyone, this was such a great surprise, I’m so sorry it has to end this way” I say as I push the chair I was sitting in to the table. “It’s okay, get well soon” Madi said, I said bye to everyone and we left.

I rushed out of the restaurant heading to the car. Matt unlocked the car and I quickly got in. Matt also gets in and starts the car. “What was that” I say with an angry tone, “We could’ve been caught” I continue and look outside the window as the car starts to move. “Looks like the birthday girl knows how to get away with a lie. I know what you were doing, I love that little black dress” Matt says, his voice filled with lust. “We can’t be doing this, this is a bad idea, you’re my best friend, what if everyone finds out?” I answer with a question, still looking outside of the window. “It doesn’t matter, you’re the birthday girl” Matt answers.

The car was silent, I continued to stare outside the window when the thought of Matt’s hand on my thigh crosses my mind. I feel myself getting wet again and I bite my bottom lip as I look in the window seeing Matts reflection, I see his smirk as he continues to drive focusing on the road. As I was about to turn my head, I feel his cold hand on my thigh once again. I let out a small moan as I sink deeper into the seat. His hand moving closer and closer until reaching my heat, his thumb started rubbing circles on my clit. I let out a moan as I turn my head to look at him. Matt however does not take his eyes off the road, smirk still stuck on his face. I’ve never seen Matt like this, but thats why it’s turning me on even more, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels so good.

He moves my thong to the side with his two fingers in one quick motion then proceeds to move his fingers up and down my heat before pushing two fingers in to me, I let out a loud moan throwing back my head, my hand reaching for the seatbelt so that I have something to hold on to. He moves his fingers in and out of me curling them giving me unimaginable pleasure. He continues to pump his fingers in to me, slowly increasing the speed. “Ohh fuck Matt, it feels so good” I moan out as I switch out the seatbelt for his arm to hold on.

I start to move my hips back and forth as I hold on to him. My breathing gets uneasy as I feel my orgasm coming. “Please Matt, don’t stop, your fingers feel so good” I moan. Matt still ignoring me and keeping his eyes on the road. “Matt I’m so close” I moan out and the next moment he pulls his fingers out of me. I let out a frustrated moan from the loss of contact. He’s still not looking at me, he’s ignoring me. “Please Matt, I need you” I say with a frustrated tone. No answer. “Please, I need you, I’m so close” I beg as I grind my hips against the leather car seat trying to release the pressure built up in my stomach. Silence fills the car as we stop at a red light. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I really nee-“ I almost cry out looking at him, but before I even get to finish Matt turns his head, his eyes staring right in to mine and his fingers sharply enter me once more. I moan out but I don’t take my eyes off of his. He curls his fingers in me and his speed quickens. I quickly feel my climax coming and I put my hand on his pushing his fingers deeper. Two more thrusts and I feel the tension in my stomach releasing. I let a loud almost scream like moan still looking in his eyes, now both of my hands holding on to his arm as I ride out my high. I pant heavily and Matt once again turns his head to look at the road as the red light turns green.

I try to calm down my breathing as we pull into my apartment’s parking lot. I quickly get out, Matt following quickly after. I grab his hand and lead him to my front door as fast as I can. I unlock my front door and yank him in. He closes the door and with one swift motion he turns me around and presses my back against the door smashing his lips on to mine. He licks my lips asking for entrance and then his tongue explores my mouth. His hands running over my body moving from my waist to my ass to the bottom hem of my dress. He breaks the kiss and looks down at my dress “Oh god how I love that little, black dress,” Matt says in a dark but quiet tone.

His lips pushing onto mine again, my hands creep around, one stopping to rest on his chest as the other moves to the nape of his head. His hands travel to my ass once again, giving me a quick slap before grabbing and pulling on it signaling me to jump. I do just that and his hands move to hold my ass as I wrap my legs around his waist.

Continuing the kiss, Matt turns around and starts walking to the living room. He lays me down on the couch breaking the kiss. He looks to his side and a smirk creeps up on him as he stands up and quickly shuffles through his pockets pulling out a lighter. He lights the candles on the cake and I get off the couch and kneel so that I’m able to blow out the candles. “Make a wish, birthday girl,” Matts says his voice dark with a hint of pure filth. I close my eyes as I make a wish. I blow out the candles and open my eyes looking up at Matt. I see his smirk as he looks down at me licking his lips.

He reaches for the cake and brushes his thumb over the icing. He moves his thumb and pushes it against my lips. “Open,” Matt says firmly and I do as he says. He pushes his thumb in my mouth and I suck the icing off of it. “Mmmm, tastes so sweet,” I say as I look up at him innocently, teasing him. I brush my hand over his crotch, gently rubbing his dick. He rolls his eyes as he throws back his head, moan escaping his lips.

I quickly unbuckle his belt, causing his pants to fall to the floor. I massage his cock through his boxers and he winces. “Don’t tease me,” he says almost whispering. I don’t think twice as I hook my fingers on his Calvin Klein boxers waistband pulling them down. His cock slips out and smacks his stomach before falling. I lick my lips before grabbing his cock licking the tip. I lick from his tip to the base of his cock before moving my head back opening my mouth and wrapping my lips around his hard dick. I bobbed my head on his cock and pumped with my hand the part that I couldn’t reach.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes only to find him staring down at me his mouth slightly opened as he breathes out heavily. I continue to suck his dick and his hands move to my head, gathering my hair making a ponytail. While staring in his eyes I quicken my pace and Matt lets out a load moan letting his head fall back. “Oh you feel so good around my cock baby” he moans. His voice making my mouth water and I start to move even faster, loud slurps can be heard as I suck him off. “Don’t stop, I’m close,” he grunts out. He pushes my head further down his cock thrusting it in my mouth. Tears start to roll off my cheeks and my mascara with them. I look up at him and he lets a moan fall from his lips. I move my head a few more times before gagging as there’s no more air. He inhales sharply as he stops thrusting releasing his seed in my mouth and then moans. I move my mouth off of his dick, a string of saliva connected from his tip to my lips, I look up at him as I swallow his cum and he releases my hair.

He grabs my hand as he helps me get up before pushing me down on my white couch. He crawls over me and leaves a kiss on my neck before his hand moves to the cake and he breaks a small peace off placing it into his mouth. He pushes lips on mine and his tongue immediately entering my mouth. The taste of his tongue mixed with the sweet cake is driving me insane. I feel the wetness dripping down from my pussy and I wrap my hands around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss before breaking it. “Matt, I need you in me,” I say.

Matt pulls up my dress enough to give himself access to my dripping hole. “I like your panties,” Matt says winking at me before quickly sliding them down my legs. “You’re so wet for me,” he growls and takes his cock in his hand pumping it a few times, then he starts rubbing it up and down my folds to collect my wetness before pushing his length in to me. “Oh my god,” I gasp as I grab on to his tattooed bicep. He starts thrusting into me with slow but hard thrusts. His head falls in the nape of my neck as he leaves kisses and occasionally sucking and biting on my skin. “You’re so tight, oh my god,” Matt moans as he quickens his thrusts. I feel my orgasm coming again.

“Matt don’t stop, I’m about to cum,” I whine as my walls close around his pulsating cock. Matt thrusts deep and fast, his tip kissing my g-spot. My hips shoot up, orgasm taking over me, my pleasure sending shivers down my spine. I start to shake as he continues to thrust in me deeper than ever before getting stiff. “Ohhh fuckkkk,” he lets out growl like moan, leaning his forehead against my collar bone as he bites my shoulder before planting his cum inside me as my legs shake as I’m coming down from my high.

He plops next to me trying to catch his breath. “That’s my birthday girl,” Matt says as he looks at me. “Did your birthday wish come true?” He asks and a smirk creeps up on his face. I grab a piece of the cake and shove it in his mouth, “shut up.” I say laughing.

[hansslut]

could u do jeonghan W a spit kink while having rough sex and slapping kink pls?

ignore if uncomfortable 💗💗

— LOVE TALK

tags: non!idol y.jh x fem!reader, reader is kinda a bitch sorry not sorry, spit kink, slapping kink, penetrative sex, unprotected sex ( don't be silly, wrap the willy !! ) mirror sex, rough sex, best friends to ...?, bruises, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, slight cheating? ( technically reader is in a situationship with mingyu but they're not exclusive so! and also reader is kinda annoyed w Mingyu cuz he's too vanilla ) jealous and possessive jeonghan that dislikes Mingyu becauseee i said so! ( everything is fiction pls don't attack me )

a/n: i wouldn't have originally posted this because i didn't really like the way i wrote it and it was a planned jeonghan bday special that i gave up halfway but decided that yolo idc anymore 😇 english isn't my first language!! ALSO TYSM FOR REQUESTING <3

Showing up to your best friend's birthday party and barely paying attention to him because you were too busy flirting with your situationship certainly wasn't the move.

Not when you could feel his eyes on you everytime you giggled a bit too much for it to be a genuine laugh, or everytime his hand would brush against your thighs.

Jeonghan wasn't a possessive man, he never really cared about who you dated or what you did with them, but somehow, seeing you with the man he disliked more than anything, Mingyu, triggered something in him.

What did you even find in him? Sure, he was tall, insanely handsome, the smoothest tan skin that he was sure was practically baby soft, and a build to kill for.

But this was his birthday party, what were you doing on another boy's lap?

Before he could continue on overthinking every move of yours, you approached him with a big smile on your glossy lips and your big eyes glimmering.

"Hannie! Happy birthday, i love you so muchh" You said in a whiny voice as you excitedly wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying from one side to another, making him chuckle and wrap one arm around your waist while the other was on your back.

"Hm, yeah? Love you too, baby. You drank a lil bit too much tho, didn't you?" He teased just to hear you whine a bit more and deny it, your words slightly slurred both from the alcohol and your giggles. "Me? Noo, just needed to drink a bit to survive Mingyu, he's a bit...too clingy for someone who doesn't even have the guts to ask me out" you rolled your eyes with a small scoff at the thought of the puppy boy that couldn't get his hands off of you, yet also couldn't express what he wanted either.

This intrigued your best friend, that raised an eyebrow at your words. Too clingy?. "I thought you liked your men clingy" Jeonghan laughed softly while looking you from head to toe, he couldn't deny that he felt a hint of satisfaction at hearing your annoyance with Mingyu.

"I mean, yeah, but he's also too vanilla for my liking. He's a sweet boy, but i just don't really get the hype" You crossed your arms under your chest, pushing it up a bit unconsciously, Jeonghan's eyes immediately darting down.

Before Jeonghan could answer though, a small whine left your lips as you remembered that you forgot to bring your best friend a gift. "Oh, by the way, Hannie, i forgot to buy you a gift, 'm sorry. Just wanted to make sure i was all pretty for tonight and forgot" you pouted and looked up at him through your eyelashes, making him bite his bottom lip. How could he ever get mad at you when you looked this innocent and destroyable in front of him?

"It's fine, don't sweat about it" his gentle voice reassured before taking onto a more mischievous tone. "Though, you do have something i'd like as a present" his lips grazed over the shell of your ear as his hand caressed the swell of your ass.

"Oh really? What is it?" You asked with an excited smile, completely oblivious to what he meant because of the alcohol in your system making you a little dumber than you already were ( as Jeonghan said )

And that's how you found yourself getting pounded on Jeonghan's bed, your legs pressed against your chest as you moaned and threw your head back, catching a glimpse of Jeonghan's smirk in the mirror as he made eye contact with you through it, your walls fluttering around him.

"Shit, pussy was made for me, huh? Look at you, just needing to get fucked by your own best friend" he said while watching his hard dick sliding in and out of your dripping wet hole. "Fucking bitch, god— do you think he'll fuck you the way i do?" He growled and slapped your cheek, making a few tears of pleasure and pain run down the sides of your face, your makeup now completely ruined.

"Jeon-Jeongha-aah! N-no, plea-" you could barely speak through the harsh fucking your pussy was enduring and the pleasure making your body numb, but your little mutters weren't enough for Jeonghan, as he picked up his pace even more.

He let out loud broken moans as he hammered his hips, wet smacking sounds echoing each time your hips met. "Tell me, do you think he'll ever be able to fill your little pussy up this way, hm?" He continued fucking you as hard as he could, striking your cheek even harder than before with his ring clad fingers, his fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth as he spit into your mouth.

The second you felt his spit hit your tongue, you moaned loudly, the taste of vodka making you drop into a hazy state. "N-no! No hannie, m-mhm, no one can fuck me like you, please" you begged stupidly, already cock drunk, before feeling him pull out, making you whine.

As you went to complain, you felt his hands manhandle your body, forcing you on all fours on the bed, one hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look in the mirror as he started fucking you again, somehow even deeper than before.

"Good girl, wanna cum on my cock, huh? Wanna cum on my cock and make your Hannie happy?" He asked with a smirk as he bit his lip, feeling himself get closer to the edge as he saw you slipping away because of how obsessed you were with the feeling of him balls deep in you.

You nodded and gasped as you felt his fingers circling your swollen clit, making you hide your face in the bedsheets. "Yes, pleasepleaseplease! Hannie! I'm gonna cum, please- Fuck!" You cried out loudly as you came around his cock. The clench around him made him groan and cum deep inside your gripping pussy, throwing his head back and gulping when you pulsed around him, some of his cum dripping out of your pussy.

"Fuck, i guess i don't have to buy you a birthday gift anymore?" You said when you caught your breath, your voice still slightly air as you chuckled and felt him brush his fingers through your sweaty hair, pressing a kiss on your lower back while he giggled.

"Maybe if we go for round 2?" He smirked and looked at the clock on his bedside table, seeing that there were at least 20 minutes left before his birthday ended.

[kumkaniudaku]

At Last: Part One

Summary: Patrice returns home to celebrate a birthday and a new beginning.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: None

In a little corner of Wilmington, NC, tucked behind towering Spanish moss trees and sprawling acres of lush green grass, the Habersham family were monarchs on ancestral turf. 

Enslaved Sierra Leonean men and women had tilled this land long before Patrice was a twinkle in her mother and father’s eyes. They hoped, prayed, and danced for a future where babies far down their lineage could have a place to visit for a connection to their love and guidance beyond the physical realm. According to some, their spirits still roamed the fields once holding them captive in great triumph.

Long-held West African customs preserved and passed down over time had transformed into the uniquely rich Gullah culture that still governed the eldest generation of Habershams and their children. While much of the language patterns had been lost, Sybil Habersham-Lewis and her baby sister, Rosalyn, worked tirelessly to keep the family home tidy and traditions alive. 

They never hesitated to tell stories of how their great-grandfather rebuilt the big house with his bare hands to rid his offspring of a torrid legacy from a man he reluctantly called father. They sometimes laughed about how he, a fair-skinned man with green eyes and a mean streak, met and married a slender songstress with blue-black skin within six months of laying eyes on her. Paul and Efua produced eight children in that home. Those eight children created a line of movers and shakers that stretched far and wide. 

One of those movers and shakers stared out of the passenger side window with eyes wide as saucers and a smile that rivaled the sun, watching trees donning brown, red, and orange leaves whiz past on the way to her favorite place in the world. Patrice was itching to get out of the car and kick her shoes off to feel the soft tickle of damp Bermuda grass between her toes. She longed to see her uncle’s horses, eat fresh seafood until her stomach ached, and recap moments in her girlhood with her cousins. She couldn’t wait to kiss Nana's face 95 times for her 95th birthday. She needed to smell the blue hydrangeas in her auntie’s garden. She needed to be home.

Terry stole glances at Patrice, finding joy in her enthusiasm. She hadn’t slept a wink the night before or in the nearly two-hour ride from Fayetteville. He knew she’d tucker out eventually, but seeing her brimming with unbridled happiness made his heart swell. 

“God, I hope my auntie made okra. Oooh and crab cakes. I haven’t had any in so long!”

Terry listened to the way her accent slurred and shortened words in rapid succession with a smile. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to understand you by the end of the weekend.” 

“You’ll be lucky to keep up past tonight.” she laughed. "My granny ‘dem Geechee tuh de bone."

“Y’all make everything sound like music. I like it.” 

“If you tell Moon Pie that, she might try to take you from me.” 

“You gon’ let her?” 

“Hell nah. I’ll whoop her ass. She ain’t crazy.” 

The thought of having to put hands on her cousin behind her man made Patrice scowl while Terry let off a loud, shoulder-shaking cackle. Though she was serious as a heart attack, she laughed along with him to release the tension building in her muscles. 

Terry reached across the center console to gently rub her arm before playfully caressing her chin to pull a smile from her lips. 

“No way I’d let you fight as pretty as you are. Plus, we’re celebrating all weekend. If you aren’t smiling from tonight ‘til Sunday, I didn’t do my job.” 

Patrice’s mouth twisted into a suspicious smirk. “And what’s your job? You know, if someone were to ask for a friend.”

“Keeping you happy.” His cheeky quip made her eyes roll as she kissed her teeth. 

For over a week Terry had been tight lipped about something Patrice couldn’t put her finger on. She’d tried to catch him in a fib or make him slip up and share whatever details existed behind hushed calls and unmarked deliveries. But, Terry was notorious for keeping secrets under lock and key. Whatever he was planning would sneak up on her like a thief in the night. 

“You nervous to meet everyone?” Patrice questioned to change the subject.

“Nah, I’m good.” He cut his eyes in Patrice’s direction and smiled when he found her already eying him skeptically. “Think I’m lying?” 

“Yeah, I think you’re full of shit. Either that or you’re truly unaware of how crazy my folks are. No way you aren’t a little concerned.” 

He shrugged. “I’m not too worried. I love you, so I know I’ll love them. We’ll figure out the parts in the middle.” 

Everything Terry knew about Patrice, in his mind, was a beautiful amalgamation of those who had a hand in raising her into the woman she’d grown into. He knew her mother and how the two shared the same heart for community service. From her father, she’d inherited an uncanny ability to stop a whole room from speaking with only a raised eyebrow. Though he’d only heard stories of her grandmother, he could tell that her independent nature was a founding feature. And, if those things could make his heart turn flips with one look across a crowded room, he’d have no trouble making space for his bonus family. 

Patrice tried to formulate a counterpunch to Terry’s levelheaded assessment of the situation but had a change of heart as smooth asphalt transitioned into the familiar crunch of gravel beneath her car’s tires. 

Black iron gates adorned with an ornate H were pulled open, giving anyone casually walking by a peak into an almost mythical land. Terry’s eyes darted from place to place, lingering on the hanging moss trees lining their path, then on the children gleefully chasing each other through fallen leaves around a small white gazebo, before landing on a magnificent wrap-around porch serving as a gathering spot for elder men taking inventory of fishing equipment for an early morning trip to catch the evening’s meal. The Big House, as Patrice affectionately called it, was a modern marvel, an oasis for every hue of black man, woman, and child with Habersham blood in their veins to feel like they were somebody in an otherwise cruel world. 

“Beautiful, ain’t it? Auntie did her thing with the last renovation.” Patrice asked, beaming as she started to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Incredible. Is this al-” 

Whatever was left of Terry’s awe-inspired sentence was swept into the wind as Patrice hopped from the passenger seat and onto the concrete driveway before the car could come to a full stop. 

Like a child finally released from the confines of their classroom onto the playground for 30 minutes of recess freedom, she hit the ground in a slight jog to greet a woman about her age skipping down the porch steps to meet her halfway. 

“Imani,” Patrice hollered, her arms already outstretched in anticipation of a hug. 

Imani called her name back with equal excitement until the two women were joined in a tight embrace. Terry watched from afar, a warm smile tugging his lips to one side as he shut off the engine and exited the vehicle. 

The two women rocked side to side until they’d had their fill of one another. Imani pulled away first to get a look at her favorite baby cousin. 

“My girlfrieeend,” she sang, imitating the theme song from the only show they watched for a full summer in their teens. “You look so good. The skin, the hair, the body! It’s all working right now.” 

“Me? Look at you! I know for a fact this caftan is from like Paris or Bali or somewhere crazy.” 

“Oh you know, just a little somethin’ custom from London. Not too much, not too much.” 

“How you stand it there with that nasty looking food is beyond me, girl.” 

Imani laughed. “That’s for them other folks. People that look like us know where to get a good meal. You oughta come see me sometime. Book a flight and let me worry about the rest.” 

“Next summer?” 

“I’ll throw it on my calendar. Bring Mister Man, too.” 

Patrice didn’t need to turn around to know that Terry had made his presence known. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her lower back as he joined her side. 

If he hadn’t known her for nearly two decades, Terry would have easily gotten Patrice and Imani confused. Both women wore glowing deep dark skin like a badge of honor, soaking up rays of sun and reflecting them in the way that only ethereal beings could. Wide noses and plump, pink and brown lips complimented impossibly high cheekbones. Beauty marks at the corners of opposite eyes might possibly be a tell-tale sign if one could fight being lulled into a trance by the sheer grace they both possessed. The only difference was Imani’s slight height advantage and low, ash blonde haircut.

“Wow,” he whispered, the words catching him by surprise. He shook his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I just - y’all are damn near twins.” 

“Don’t I know it,” they spoke in unison. 

Patrice took over after a chuckle. “They used to call us Frick and Frack. Mostly because they couldn’t always tell who was who.”

“Which Petey over here never wanted to use to our advantage.” 

“Petey?” Terry questioned. 

“Wait, she never told you her nic-” 

“And, that’s enough,” Patrice hollered, purposely eclipsing Imani’s voice to keep her cousin from going further. “Terrence, this Imani. Imani this is Terrence, my man.” 

Terry could feel a bolt of lightning surge through his body as he reached out to shake Imani’s hand. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what Patrice might call him in a simple introduction. He’d always given her a treasure trove of titles - his lady, the love of his life, maybe his wife one day if the Lord willed it so. He’d introduced her so much that they never explored how the inverse would work. But hearing himself be proudly referred to as her’s was a shock to the system that he hadn’t prepared for but welcomed all the same. 

Imani waved his outstretched hand away and pulled him in for a hug. “Boy, we family. Come here and get this squeeze.”

Like an old friend, Imani pulled Terry into a welcoming hug. Patrice looked on with a silent thanks to God. If what she knew of her cousin still held weight, they’d be fast friends and thick as thieves by the end of the weekend. 

Pulling away, she lightly tapped his chest and looked at Patrice. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet Terry Richmond in person. You’re basically her Nelly!” she laughed, recalling Patrice’s near obsession with St. Louis and their hometown hero after Hot in Herre debuted. Patrice rolled her eyes while Terry and Imani held on to each other through loud laughter.

“Got damn, Moanie, hold ‘em hostage why don’t you! You ain’t the only person they know ‘round here.” 

“Hey, Daddy!” 

“Hey, Baby Girl!”

The perfectly timed distraction took Patrice’s attention away long enough for the newest tandem to exchange hushed conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m the best!” Imani hollered back before winking at Terry and Patrice. “Go on. I’ll have the boys get y’all’s stuff. Make sure you get to the kitchen. Think Mama’s got some pound cake cut for you.”

The mention of other family members awaiting their arrival was a quick reminder that Terry had barely scratched the surface of new faces and connections. Every direction he turned presented another opportunity to be pulled into a spirited handshake or warm hug. 

With the men in her life, he was immediately received with masculine equivalents of praise for his physical form.

“Son, you look like ya 'bout tuh buss out dat shirt 'round ya arms. Petey, you don’t have to worry ‘bout no protection, huh?” was Uncle PJ’s way of saying he was confident in Terry’s ability to keep Patrice safe. 

“You comin’ out fishin’? Country boy like you probably catch catfish with your bare hands!” 

“Where you from?”

“Where your people from?” 

“They white? How you get them green eyes?”

“You got kids? You sure?” 

“You know you got some ears on you, don’t ya!”

Patrice’s father, Leon, interjected to save Terry from an increasingly invasive dive into his personal history. “Don’t answer none of that. But I would like you to come out on the water with us. Have a beer or two so we can finish that conversation from the other week.” 

“Y’all talking about me behind my back?” 

“Hell, I do,” Junior laughed. “She aggravating, bruh. You can say it. Go ‘head.”

“You better not.” 

Patrice playfully poked a perfectly manicured finger into Terry’s chest to force his silence, earning a chaste kiss on the forehead. Junior scoffed and sipped from his half-empty bottle of water.

“T, you grown now. Your big ass don’t have to let her boss you no more.” 

“That’s my favorite part,” Terry answered, finally speaking up for himself. “She sweet when she wanna be.”

“I ain’t seen it.”

“Because I don’t like you, Junior. How many times do we have to go over this?”

Terry tried to contain his wide grin from watching the siblings bicker like old times. He’d been in the middle of many a verbal tussle between them, always stepping in as the voice of reason. He still held the role of peacemaker all these years later. 

“She loves you, man. Still keeps your room up and everything.” 

Leon shook his head at his children’s antics. “Good thing you here. I couldn’t take that shit this weekend.” He pointed at the passenger seat of his truck and the open lunch box resting in it. “So, you comin’. Got food for you if you wanna ride.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Terry started before looking toward the house at the small audience of women crowding at the kitchen window. They scattered when he caught their gaze, making him laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. “Give us a few minutes. I think there’s some people inside I gotta meet first.” 

“Good luck, man. I would say you got five minutes but we both know that ain’t happening. We’ll wait a bit.”

With one trial by fire ending, another began. In their short walk to the front porch, Patrice had given Terry opportunities to gracefully bow out of the incoming circus and take her father’s invitation as a get out of hell free card. He’d refused every effort with a kind smile and unfounded reassurance that everything would be okay. In his mind, he’d hug a few necks, kiss a few cheeks, and be out of dodge before anyone could hold him long. 

Stepping into the home’s foyer felt like being in a museum. Photos of Habersham descendants living and passed on to Glory lined the hallway as a reminder of their history on this land. Eyes that carried an array of stories looked back at him, leaving goosebumps across his arms. Especially once he landed on a young woman with a familiar half-smile encased behind an antique picture frame. 

Patrice noticed him stop short to give the photo his full attention. 

“My great-great-great grandma,” she informed, adding extra emphasis on the final ‘great’. “Efua. Nana says she was barely bigger than the kids but ran this place with an iron fist. I believe it. She look like she don’t play.” 

“She looks kinda like you and Imani.” 

Patrice tilted her head to get a better look. “Hm. I guess you’re right.”

Clamoring in the kitchen pulled them away from Efua’s watchful eye and around the corner for their grand entrance. 

Women of every age, size, and shape filled the room from wall to wall, each one participating in the cooking process. On one side, a small group of teenagers huddled to inspect bushels of greens for bugs and cut them in preparation for a proper wash. On the other, small girls shelled black-eyed peas and giggled amongst themselves over TikTok videos. But in the center of the room, where spices and fresh ingredients intermingled for an almost intoxicating aroma and conversation was the loudest, all of the cornerstones of the family gathered to share gossip and wisdom alike. 

Terry’s appearance, tall and muscled with a winning smile to match, sent a hush over even the loudest woman present. 

“Oh God,” Patrice mumbled to herself, preemptively embarrassed by the storm she knew was sure to follow. 

Someone whistled. Then came a low “mm-mm-mm” from an auntie fighting hard to contain herself. Terry let every sound and look fuel his ego for just a few seconds before speaking. 

“Hey, ladies.” 

“Hey, Terry.” 

Every voice greeted him in unison like the Angels speaking to Charlie over that old speakerphone. Patrice screwed her face and pinched his shoulder. He’d been given strict instructions the night before, but being in the moment called for an audible that immediately made him a shiny new toy to be paraded.

Before he could have any say so, Patrice’s mother was ushering him around for every aunt and cousin to say a personal hello. He charmed each woman who met his acquaintance like a seasoned politician. If nothing else, they could all hang on to the memory of meeting the long-fabled Terrence Richmond. 

But, for all the pomp and circumstance, every breath hitched once Rosalyn led Terry to matriarch. 

She wore 95 years on Earth well. Chestnut skin covered in beauty marks crinkled around her eyes as she smiled back at him. Even as she sat in her wheelchair more slight and fragile than Patrice remembered, Terry could see her inner strength shining through.

Patrice watched her mother lean down and speak something into her grandmother’s ear before directing Terry to crouch down to eye level. He did as he was told, gingerly capturing her much smaller hands in his. 

“Hi, Ms. Ida. I’m so happy to finally meet you. My name is Terrence.” 

The softness in his voice ignited a chorus of heartwarming sentiments from every corner. Patrice had become so enraptured in the meeting she never thought would happen that she nearly missed her mother directing her to join Terry’s side. 

Ida didn’t say much back to him. Instead, she slid her hand from his grasp and traced her fingertips along the perimeter of his face. She examined him from all angles with a nostalgic look in her gaze. Terry tried not to let confusion come through in his expression, but Rosalyn caught the sliver of uncertainty. 

“You remind her of somebody close, that’s all. Same eyes.” 

He’d inadvertently sent her back to her childhood, bringing back memories so deep in her mind she thought she might never get them back. Even with slightly darker skin and broader features than Paul could boast back then, Ida still saw him clear as day. And that, all those years later, made her feel more alive than ever on her 95th birthday.

Ida tapped his jaw lightly and laughed. “Mhm. Petey, this him?” 

Finally joining Terry’s side, Patrice mimicked him and knelt by her grandmother’s feet. 

“Yes ma’am. He wanted to be here for your birthday.” 

“Nice looking boy, ain’t he?” 

Patrice giggled. “He cute, I guess. I heard he got you a gift for tonight, but he won’t tell me what it is. Can you believe it?”

“Well, hell, this all the gift I need. Give me anything else and I might not make it to 96!” 

“Mama!” 

Sybil hated when her mother made jokes about death, but Terry couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to joke with her, see what else she might say knowing that no one in the house could tell her what to do, but the loud blast of a car horn in the front yard reminded him that he’d made a prior commitment. 

Gently, he squeezed her knee and spoke loud enough for her to hear. “Now, I go gotta go catch you somethin’ for tonight. You gon’ be here when I’m back?” 

“Oh yeah,” she answered, reinvigorated and saucy like her younger self. “I’ll be dressed up real nice too. Might leave here with two gals on your arm.” 

“You know I never been the sharing type, Nana.” 

Ida smiled at Patrice, nodding in approval. “That’s my girl. Keep that up.”

A second and longer beep let Terry know that time was running out. He quickly bid the group farewell, ending on Patrice with a simple kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back soon. 

While she became swept up in a whirlwind of who, what, when, and where, Rosalyn and Sybil slipped away to speak with Terry on his way out of the door. He’d become the center of attention, even long after his scent had faded. 

“Is he the one from high school?” 

“What’s he like?” 

“Is he always this nice?” 

“Y’all shackin’ up?” 

“When y’all getting married? What about kids?”

More questions, more prying, more assumptions than she could handle. Short, vague answers weren’t enough for them. They wanted the full scoop from the young lady they once knew as a shy girl who only focused on her studies. 

Patrice answered every question with enough detail to satiate their curiosity and maintain some level of privacy in her relationship. For a moment, that was enough. They’d unveiled the mystery of Petey’s other life and could move on to more pressing matters.

They quickly shifted to discussions of other people’s business. Who’d had a baby? Who was divorcing? Who’s kids were raising hell in the community? They took a winding road filled with chats about celebrity news and politics, nonsense about music, and, Patrice’s personal favorite, the old days. 

Those chats, full of lore and laughter, always took place in Nana’s parlor. A room covered in powder pink wallpaper and situated in the corner of the home where natural sunlight welcomed any guests that had the privilege of visiting. 

The older women sat side by side, crammed on expensive armchairs and soft couches, to convene at their leisure. Patrice stood by her favorite spot beside the window with Imani sitting on her right and her grandmother positioned in front of her. On her left stood a small table holding hair grease, a fine-toothed comb, and duck bill clips to help her pincurl Ida’s shoulder length silver hair. Her favorite pastime. 

“Everyone of y’all was bad,” Sybil laughed, referring to the crop of children that came up with Patrice. “Y’all came here every summer acting a damn fool.” 

“Not me and Petey!”

“Especially you and Petey. The worst of the bunch. Just sneaky and sassy!” 

“I don’t know what you talkin’ about. All I did was read and sit up under Nana.” 

Patrice’s highly inaccurate recollection of her time in the country every year made Ida laugh in her wheelchair. “Don’t let ‘em lie on you. I never saw my baby gettin’ in no trouble.” 

“Oh yeah right!” Sybil exclaimed. “Ros, wasn’t you there when these two let all the chickens out and had us chasin’ them ‘round out back.” 

“Sure was. They had all the grown folk out there huffin’, puffin’, and ‘bout to blow the house down!” 

The room fell into laughter watching Sybil imitate the group of adults fighting to capture livestock. Patrice remembered that afternoon and tried to defend their actions. 

“Okay, that is true, but I remember that being your daughter’s idea. I was only helping my sis.” 

Imani shrugged and sat back in her seat. “You raised an activist. Those animals were in captivity.” 

“Moanie, you eat meat,” Moon Pie commented. 

“I never said they didn’t taste good. I said we were holding them captive. The circle of life is different. Now let’s talk about how Moon had us sittin’ at the eating table all night because she wouldn’t finish her Frogmore stew thinkin’ there were real frogs in it.”

“Heaven forbid a girl need proof!” 

More laughter. The kind of laughter that healed deep emotional wounds. The kind that seeped into the walls, keeping the home full of love and light. The kind that made Patrice happy to not only be home but to share a piece of her heart with the man she loved. 

While she wished he could hear the silly stories and witness the exaggerated retellings, Terry was fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for Patrice’s father to meet him at the back of his truck. 

Across the way, the other men sat in small clusters, chatting their way through a midafternoon lunch break. As much as he wanted to talk shop with them about the fate of the Carolina Panthers, there was a more meaningful matter on the table. 

Leon grunted as he closed the driver’s side door and rounded the truck’s cab. “Let that down, will you?”

Terry sprung into action quicker than he meant to, nervousness making him move at hyperspeed. Leon laughed and lifted himself onto the truck bed before handing over a small cooler. 

“Grab whatever you like. We got plenty.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Just Leon. Kinda weird to call your father-in-law sir, ain’t it? Plus that’s that fool’s name over there and he ain’t worth a damn. Lazy sumbitch.” 

“I got you. Won’t happen again,” Terry chuckled as he pulled a piece off of his turkey sandwich and popped it into his mouth. They sat in silence for a few moments to enjoy the sound of nature around them until he reignited the conversation. “I appreciate y’all agreeing to all this. Especially so quickly. I hope things don’t feel rushed.”

“You ain’t doin’ nothin’ I wouldn’t want for my girl. She need somebody willing to go above and beyond for her. I know you always have and I don’t see you slowin’ down no time soon.” 

Terry nodded, smiling. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

“I know. Moanie got the ring, right?” 

“Yeah. We worked it all out a couple weeks ago. She’s hiding it for me and keeping Treece distracted. You know she’s nosey.”

“Her mama said to call it inquisitive.” 

“Hm. Inquisitive, huh?”

They looked at each other and spoke at the same time. “Nosey.”

“That’s her,” Leon remarked. “Time’s flyin’, ain’t it? I remember when it looked like you was drowning in your clothes. Now look at you. Big as a damn tank. What they feed y’all in the Corps?” 

“Shit, nothing but slop and a hard time seasoned with a dash of casual racism from some crazy white boy outta one of the Dakotas every once in a while.”

Their shared laughter disturbed a cluster of nearby birds, making the rest of the men look in their direction. Sir threw his hands up in the air. 

“Well, damn, Leon. Gone ‘head and fuck up the catch!” 

“Or I can fuck you up instead.” He looked over at Terry struggling to keep his face neutral and shook his head. “I can’t stand his ass. Or his daughter. Or his wife. All of ‘em get on my nerves. C’mon, so we can finish up.”

As high noon gave way to early evening and the sleepiness of fall pushed the sun into the west earlier than usual, Imani and Patrice sat alone in one of the guest rooms engrossed in conversation. 

Imani was the only sister Patrice had ever known. It didn’t matter what portion of the world they occupied or how long it’d been since they last talked, they always picked up right where they left off when they were reunited. 

Patrice focused on the vanity mirror to examine Imani’s careful twists and twirls to place her thick natural hair into bantu knots.

“You think I can grow my hair out like this by January? I’m going to Ghana and I wanna switch it up a little bit.” 

“Of course. Manifest it, my sister!” 

Imani laughed as she parted out another section. “If I ever need somebody to follow up my foolishness, I know I can count on you.” 

“What Whitney said on the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack?” 

Together, they broke into song, harmonizing to breathe life into the final track from one of their favorite movie soundtracks. Imani hugged her cousin from behind and kissed her cheek. 

“I love you, girl. I miss you so much. It gets so lonely being away from home all the time.” 

“I love you, too. Life be life-ing, don’t it?” 

“All the time. I gotta make my way out to Fayetteville and spend more time with y’all. Maybe learn some more about Mister Man.” Patrice tried to hide her bashful smile, making Imani squeal behind her. “So…tell me about Terry. I know you said something downstairs but I wanna know the real scoop.” 

Patrice sighed at the mere thought of their romance. “The way I love that man, girl, I can’t even explain it. I feel like I’m going crazy.” 

“Oooooh! Swept you clean off your feet, huh?” 

“Threw me over his shoulder and hasn’t put me down since. Never in a million years did I expect to end up here with him. I mean I hoped for it, but to be here is mind-blowing. He’s so sweet, Moanie. So, gentle. Kind. More affectionate than I think I was ready for. I don’t know. I’m just in love. I’m happy.” 

“It’s all over you. I see the glow.” 

“Well, that’s from other things,” she added, a cheeky grin spreading across her face.

“Not the choir boy!” 

“Please, don’t let him fool you. Can’t keep him off me or keep his mouth closed when he gets to talking.”

Their shared laughter spilling out into the hallway became a beacon of their location for Terry as he dragged his tired legs up the stairs in search of Patrice.

His knuckles rapping against the closed bedroom door halted the private conversation until they gave him permission to enter. He slowly pushed the door open before poking his head into the room. 

“Everybody decent?” 

“Mhmm. Come on in.” Imani invited over her shoulder. She looked back at Patrice through the mirror as her cousin adjusted her clothing and sat up a little straighter in anticipation of Terry’s avalanche of affection. 

His eyes seemed to close beyond seeing clearly from the sheer force of his smile. 

“Hey, pretty.” 

“Hey, love. You have fun?” 

Terry released a dry chuckle. “Yeah. A real hoot.” 

Imani watched the young couple flirt back and forth, her hand outstretched to pass a small black velvet box from a drawer in her vanity to Terry while he kept Patrice occupied with short kisses. He secured it in one of his cargo pockets before pulling away. 

“You stink,” Patriced joked, half lying.

“I know. I still have some set-up work to do, so I’ll bring your stuff. Don’t want you to get behind on account of me.” 

“Thank you, baby. You’re so sweet.” 

Patrice captured his chin with her fingers and pulled him closer for another kiss. 

Terry lifted an eyebrow in concern. “You sick?” 

“No. I just love you.”

“I love you, too.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she softened her gaze to scan his face. The way the gloss on her lips caught the sun. The way every one of her perfect features was on display with her hair pulled up and away from her face. He’d never been more confident in a decision in his life and, if not for the promise he’d made to half of her immediate family, he would’ve done what he drove all the way out to Wilmington for right then and there.

Knowing time was of the essence, Imani cleared her throat and gave Terry a look to urge him along behind Patrice’s back. 

“Well, Terry, think you oughta get down there and set up a table or something, right!”

Snapping out of his trance, Terry stood to his full height to look down at Patrice. “Yeah, you're right. See you a little later?” 

“It’s a date.”

He wanted to give her one more kiss to take with him, but a final reminder for him to scram was the catalyst to push Terry out of the room and leave the ladies to readying for the evening. 

She was all he could think about as he toiled away setting up tents and placing tables exactly how Rosalyn wanted them, sometimes several times over. Even as he casually sipped strong moonshine with Junior and the younger men under lantern light, all dressed in his most pristine white to fit strict instructions, he thought about Patrice and what might look like in the dress she’d chosen. He needed to see her.

His hands were sweating inside of his pockets. He casually caressed the velvet of that small black box, occasionally flipping it open to touch the cold metal inside. Time moved painfully slow. Hunger gnawed at his empty stomach. His mother’s constant phone calls for updates and reassurance didn’t help. Nervousness made his chest hot with anxiety. 

“You gon’ be alright,” Rosalyn assured while adjusting his collar on one of her many trips around the backyard to adjust the tablescape. “Breathe. Won’t be too much longer.”

He thanked her for her kindness and prayed she was right. Or he prayed for the dream he’d written down on a random Tuesday in his creative writing journal to come true. He wasn’t sure anymore. But, when he opened his eyes and lifted his head to check that sliding glass door for the umpteenth time, there she stood amongst the Habersham women as they escorted the guest of honor arm in arm. 

Angelic was the only way he could describe her. Cosmically beautifully and capable of bringing the strongest man to his knees just by batting those long lashes. A toothy grin helped him bare each one of his teeth as he watched her saunter down the decorated pathway to the event tent with Imani in tow. 

“Happy Birthday to you,” the group sang once Ida and all her ladies had made it to the long communal table packed to the brim with food and decorations. 

They serenaded the woman responsible for much of their existence until their faces ached from the singing. She bobbed her head along to the song with a smile on her face then quieted their loud applause with a simple wave of her hand. 

“Ninety-five of those and you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” she laughed. “Thank you. Each of y’all are beautiful. Young and strong. Blood of my blood and I’m glad to have you here with me. Even the ones who just came along to spend some time with an old lady. I love you. Eat, drink, and dance ‘til you bust out your clothes. That’s alright with me! We got a lot to celebrate.”

Teary-eyed and full of gratitude, Patrice reunited with Terry at the dinner table as soon as she ensured her grandmother was comfortable. He worldlessly dabbed at her waterline with his thumb and kissed the top of her head. 

“You okay? Need to step inside for a second?” 

“No,” she answered, laughing at herself for her dramatics. “I’m just really happy. C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Eat, drink, and be merry had a whole new meaning under the soft, warm light wrapping variations of black skin in its embrace. Loud pockets of conversation and laughter made for a melodious cacophony of sounds while music played in the background. 

Patrice clung to Terry the entire time, always staying connected by a hand on his thigh or their fingers laced together beneath the table. Every once in a while, they’d break from separate conversations and catch each other’s eye and smile like schoolyard crushes sitting at the lunch table together. 

The romance in the air between them was palpable enough for Imani to pull out her phone and covertly shoot Terry a quick text. 

Dessert’s out. Do it now or they’re gonna start dancing. 

Now?

NOW!

Terry eyed Imani across the table. She urged him to do something with a sideways nod. He chewed his lip and fiddled with the box in his pocket. The music was starting to pick up as a few small children hit the dancefloor. Imani gave Rosalyn the signal to make a video call.

Now or never. 

He nervously clinked his knife against his wineglass and cleared his throat. 

“Nigga, you gone break it! That’s Big Mama good crystal.”

“Shut the hell up, Sir! You ain’t pay for none of this.” Rosalyn’s reprimand came with visual daggers sent to her baby brother at the far end of the table that only softened when she looked back at Terry. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” 

Terry stood to look at every confused face in the vicinity while he waited for one of the teenagers to turn the music down. 

“Sorry, y’all. I just had a few words to say. I won’t be before you long. In the real way, not the pastor way.” His attempt at a joke fell flat. Patrice tried to keep him motivated with a smile, but her eyes begged him for answers that he couldn’t provide. “Um, I know I’m the odd man out around here. Y’all have been incredibly kind and welcoming. I really appreciate it because you didn’t have to. Especially you, Ms. Ida. Happy Birthday, again. You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you, baby.” 

He nodded his appreciation and continued. “I also wanna thank Ms. Ida and everybody else who gave me permission to ask a question of somebody really important to me. Because I know being here with all of y’all is really important to her. Can you stand up for me, Treece?”

Patrice allowed Terry to help her to her feet before whispering through her teeth. “What are you doing?” 

“Something I’ve been wanting to do since I met you.” 

There wasn’t time for Patrice to process his statement. Terry slowly dropped to one knee, not caring about the dust below him. He kept his focus on her the entire time, even as quiet whispers turned into fervent murmurs. 

“When we were kids you told tell me that, if you ever got proposed to, you didn’t want a big speech or any of the stuff they did in movies. So, I promise not to do that. What I will do is tell you how much I love you. And I’ll do that today, tomorrow, and every day after that if you allow me the privilege of being your husband.” 

“Terrence,” Patrice huffed out as she tried to contain her mess of emotions. He reached up to grip her hand. "Don't make me cry in front of my people."

“Too late. Patrice, I’m askin’ you scared as hell in front of all these people, will you marry me?”

Everyone watched as Terry presented Patrice with an open ring box and a sparkling diamond illuminated by the small light tucked into the inside.

“I knew it,” Patrice whispered, losing the battle against the happy tears pouring from her waterline. 

“No, you didn’t, girl! We got you. Answer that man,” Imani hollered.

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. The cheering from her family began to muffle. Her body temperature skyrocketed. She felt faint. The people were waiting. What would she say? 

Just as reality began to slip away, Terry’s eyes looking back at her quieted the external and internal noise. 

Driven by pure love, Patrice met Terry in a squat and grabbed his face with both of her hands. 

“What you doing tomorrow?” 

“Hopefully saying a couple vows to this pretty girl I know from way back. I brought a tux with me just in case she wasn’t too busy.” 

“From way back, huh? I think I talked to her and she has a little time on her books.” She took another look at the ring before plucking it from its box and placing it on her left ring finger. She examined it for a bit then leaned forward to kiss her betrothed with enough passion to send the crowd into a frenzy. Pulling away, she smiled and wiped gloss from Terry’s lips. 

“Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

----

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[starminzoo]

╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 birthday head

꒰ risa's note ꒱ first svt fiction and that for our handsome, hardworking, charming, pouty and cute leader, happy birthday to my hubby <3

warnings: blowjob, dirty talk, not proof read

cheol had a very tiring day at the company today, there was a lot to discuss regarding the upcoming comeback, dance practices, recordings and all, running around the building all day drained cheol to the bone and the only thought running in his mind was to head back home, take a relaxing bath and sleep the night away the thought of his birthday had slipped his mind completely so when he came back home nearing midnight he saw how the lights of the apartment were dimmed out ,carrying a confused look on his face with a slight pout he headed straight for the bedroom opening the door he was greeted by you dressed up in his black button up (because he always loved you in his clothes) with a single middle button done and black lace panties with black stockings "oh I didn't head the door opening" you just smiled at him and went back to arranging the pillows, completely aware of the flustered cheol and his throbbing dick "baby you look ravishing but what's the occasion" he asked innocently while staring at you as you glared at him "are you playing with me or are you being for real" he just shrugged at your question so you sighed and opted to break the news to him "it's your birthday cheolie how can you forget it you dummy" you giggled as his expression changed from confusion to shock, you neared him and glided your hands up around his shoulders "oh yeah I totally forgot" you both giggled at his silliness.

his hands taking their respective place around your lower back as you glanced at the clock and just as it struck 12 you stood on your tippy toes to peck his lips softly while murmuring him 'happy birthday' he smiled at your soft gesture and cradled your face in his hands deepening the kiss to show you how thankful he was to you, as the seconds passed the kiss become more deep and intense both of your hands now roaming around feeling each other, as yours were around his shoulders pulling and combing his nape hairs his hands were playing with the ends of your (his) shirt, as his lips detached from yours to head down for your neck his hands also sneaked inside your shirt to mould your hips in his hands the plush skin soft and smooth against his big and rough hands, you had to pull yourself together as his small actions made your body tingle and hotter so you pushed him of you and turned his body around pushing him on your guys bed.

"come here baby" you denied his request for you to climb on his lap and instead you went down on all fours and crawled the small distance up to him, his breath hitched as your intentions became clear to him so he moved apart his legs giving you more space "can you be good birthday boy for me take of your pants for me baby" you asked him seductively as you glided your hands over his thighs, nodding a yes to your request he undid his pants and freed his dick from the confines of his boxers and pants, as he did his dick stood tall and proud with it's red tip coated with pre-cum, you smirked as you acknowledged your power over him.

you glanced up to him through your lashes as you took his tip in your mouth sucking on it like a popsicle, the view made him clench the sheets between his hands and a whimper leaving his mouth, you swirled your tongue tasting the saltiness, withdrawing your mouth from his tip now you laid kisses on his whole length, while your hands played with his balls "baby fuck please take me in, please baby" you couldn't say no to the birthday boy right? so you did what he asked but with a twist you braced yourself by placing your palms on his thighs and took all of him in one stroke till your nose hit his pubic bone, upon the sudden sensation cheol completely lost his mind as it was too good to have your warm mouth around him taking him in so well, he threw himself back on the bed arching his back as tears pricked his eyes his knuckles turning white over the death grip he had on the sheets.

without letting him recover from the sudden pleasure attack you started bobbing your head faster on his shaft, you now using both your hands to intensify the feeling making cheol a blabbering mess in your hands " " 'am close fuck don't stop fuck fuck" the only sounds that could heard were of crying and moaning from cheol and slurping sounds from you, his cries from the pleasure deepened the wet spot on your panties which had now glued up to your core completely drenched from your arousal, your jaw had started hurting but the beautiful noises your boyfriend was making was enough motivation to keep you going as, you increased your pace as you felt his dick twitch in your mouth, cheol's moaning became louder "cummin' cummin' mmh fuck fuck" you bobbed your head up and went down again his tip hitting the back of your throat as he let himself go, white ropes leaked down your throat as you helped him ride his high and when you're thought he was done you detached your mouth from his shaft, his legs quivering from the sensation, you swallowed his cum and went up to him sitting on his stomach.

the sight you saw was enough to tell you that you accomplished your plan of satisfying him, cheol's face was covered with tears, his lips beet red as he kept biting them to keep his moans at bay but failed miserably, his hands aimlessly spread out while still clutching the sheets "you were amazing cheol, but did you liked my present baby" staring at you with his tear stained eyes he nodded a 'yes' "rest now baby because we got the whole night ahead of us, and don't worry I will be taking a really good care of you baby" you assured him with a kiss to his lips.

happy birthday daddu-ya~

[ingydar-phan]

Ok I do want to chime in on the convo but actually this is gonna be really long because I’ve been planning to make a huge post about this since the tour trailer came out. Like genuinely I messaged some people asking for tips on how to make a big conversation post weeks ago and then just never did it. So here goes I guess.

I am a firm believer they are going to hard launch soon. In some way shape or form. Before tour starts. That is a stance I have held ever since I watched pizza mukbang 2. And I have explanations.

My main points come from the coming out parallel surrounding Dans internalized homophobia and trauma responses and fear of rejection (more on that later), and also my hypothesized “3 stages” of the gaming channel revival.

I believe that when the gaming channel was revived, starting with the Heartthrob video, they entered stage 1: experimenting with audiences desire for a return to content. This was a phase they themselves discussed in Dans Birthday Stream and in Pizza Mukbang 2. The first few months were experimenting with what a new audience would look like and how much they were wanted, in what contexts, and what kind of content. I also think this wraps into the dynamic difference between Dan and Phil as people. Note, I love them both dearly and want nothing but the best for them both. It has been made clear that they did very different things during the hiatus, with Phil initiating the gaming channel comeback. Before Dan came out, he was under an immense feeling of guilt and pressure, even by his own mind. He had the option of leaving the internet forever, and he certainly considered it. Finish off the gaming channel, go on one last tour, and leave. Never having to adress anything again. But he didn’t do that. He came back. He came out. And he was greeted with the kindest, warmest, most accepting response. And he did work! He wrote a book! He went on a solo tour! And to echo both Dan himself and all of the community, he needed this. He needed this time of healing and this era of self discovery. He wouldn’t be who he is today without it, and I’m so proud of him.

But Phil? Oh Phil was just cruising along. That’s not at all to discredit any form of hardship Phil went through, but it certainly wasn’t the same. Phil was making content before Dan was, back in 2006. In uni, Phil was comfortable in his sexuality (or some form of queerness). But he waited. He waited to come out until Dan was ready. Because he’s a wonderful partner. He was happy continuing Amazingphil regardless of hiatus, of Dans needs, because he knew he didn’t have to pressure Dan into anything he didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. And then, presumably when Dan was ready, Phil proposed a gaming channel comeback. Just try it out, just see how it feels, low commitment. And what happened? Once again, they were showered with love and adoration and support and acceptance. Was the fandom different than how it used to be? Absolutely. But it was beautiful and loving. So that’s stage 1. Experimenting with content and viewership and re-entering the branding of Dan and Phil (Games).

Then, I believe after stage 1 came stage 2. Experimenting with audience reaction to Dan and Phil as a couple. I want to stake my claim here that everything they do is meticulously curated. Sure, Phil’s toe popping out of his sock wasn’t purposeful, but it was certainly handled intentionally. They’re extremely seasoned creators, and everything they do is for a reason. (That’s why I love rpf hehe). This, my “stage 2”, is when they were dipping their toes more into phan stuff. The orange heart. The “gay” community tab. Using the “ph-“ prefix THEMSELVES a lot more. Dab and Evan comparisons. This was the middle ground. How would people react? Would they turn away because it’s too much? Would they begin stalking and creeping all over again? Or would they accept these people for what they are. As much as people like to think Dan and Phil are just silly whimsical guys who are perfect no matter what they do (which is accurate as well tbf), they also know what they’re doing. They do these things on purpose to gauge audience reaction, to see how people feel about it. As others have said, what we see publicly is just a tiny sliver of their real life. Yea, even the domestic videos. It’s curated. And it’s wonderful. It’s so endearing they choose to share these things. Even in times of uncertainty. But that uncertainty was met with absolute acceptance.

Which is how we get into stage 3. I think “stage 3” started developing around the time of Dans Birthday Stream, but really actually started when the tour trailer was posted, and then all the videos after that (pizza mukbang, dressing each other, chained together, tiktoks, etc etc). So, very recently. But something shifted. Maybe it’s in the air, maybe it’s just me, maybe we all need to go outside. But something shifted. Dan and Phil, but especially Dan, saw how they were being accepted and took that as an affirmation. An affirmation that everything is going to be okay. They can commit now. They can go full on. Full hard launch.

I think everyone has a different definition of hard launch, and even I think it varies by context. But what I mean here is not necessarily them making some video called “Dan and Phil are romantically together” and staring at the camera with a gun to their head. It doesn’t, and shouldn’t, have to be that.

Straight people get this privilege of being assumed straight without having to “come out”. They get this comfort of having relationships without having to scream it in everyone’s faces.

And I do indeed agree with what people mean when they say they have already hard launched. They’re husbands, soulmates, 4000 year old tortoises, “basically any other gay couple”, more than just romantic, yea. I get it. But people are fucking stupid. Non-queer people don’t understand nuance, and need everything handed to them on a silver platter. Dan and Phil are together. People who try to twist and turn to try and “prove” they’re anything but a committed romantic and sexual relationship are ignorant at best, but mainly using homophobic wishful thinking. However, there’s more to go. There’s a reason we’re all “terrified” for what is to come. Because everything, the past 15 years of all of our lives, of their life, is coming together. It’s genuinely beautiful.

So what do I mean by hard launch then? Well, I mean a lack of censorship (besides what’s reasonable. Though we’d all love to see them fuck on YouTube, I’m not sure that’s happening any time soon). I mean a lack of shame. A lack of hiding. And it’s already begun. That’s what I feel stage 3 to be and have been. In pizza mukbang 2, they say things such as “cheers dear”, which is intentional. The “gay uncles” and the “kneeing” is all intentional. It’s not just throwaway jokes, it’s them looking us in the eyes and saying “we see you”. I have a whole list of stage 3 things. The intentional Incohearant cards. The “my face hurts from smiling” comments. THE HANDS ON THE SHOULDER TO THE HAND ON THE KNEE. Them being so open about their secluded romantic holiday. The relentless Phil bottom jokes. The yaoi day tweet from the outfits video. The “who would jump for you like that dog jumped for that man” “you”. It’s all there. It’s all intentional. And I’m so grateful for it.

One of my mutuals who I talked about this with (not gonna name cuz idk if they want me to) talked about their theory that DNP have given barely any info about tour because it requires some form of hard launch to preface it. And honestly? I didn’t even realize that was a theory. I sort of already accepted that as fact. How open IS the door gonna be?

So yea, I hope this makes sense. Please feel free to respond with or send asks of any nuances or questions or theories you’d like to add. I don’t intend this to be shaming anyone who thinks differently. Even if I may vehemently disagree with someone in my head, I don’t think these people are evil or malicious or objectively bad or deserving of hate. These are just my thoughts. I’ll likely be adding more. Thanks for reading.

[rayhalloffame]

Early pro Art Donaldson who loves the attention he gets from his fans. He’s not bothered when they approach him in public and ask for pictures. He’ll even press a flirty kiss to their cheek when he really likes them. Which is why he’s a little taken aback when the pretty thing across the bar hasn’t looked his direction. Even while posing for pictures with fans and nursing his beer, he keeps glancing your way.

He notices the birthday tiara you’re wearing, takes it as an opportunity to buy you a drink. Art orders 2 tequila shots before heading your way, lopsided grin already prepared to charm. What he doesn’t expect is for you to notice him, roll your eyes, and turn your back to him. It stops him in his tracks.

Art sees one of your friends gesture at you. She recognizes him and he gives her a small wave. Almost begrudgingly you turn again and take the few paces to meet him where he stands. “Hey, what’s up?” you ask, very casually.

“Um,” Art sputters, then pushes the hand forward that holds your drink. “Happy birthday,” he says. You both stand blinking at each other. “I got you a drink,” he says.

“No, thanks,” you reply easily.

“Um, why?”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t?” He looks almost hurt when he asks.

You cross your arms over your chest with a huff. Art tries not to glance down at the exaggerated cleavage you created. He fails. “I know who you are, but I don’t know you. You could’ve done anything to those.”

Art looks offended. How could you think that of him? He’s a nice guy! He voices as much. You tell him if he wants to buy you a drink so bad you want to watch the bartender pour it.

Art doesn’t even know why he’s so invested. You’re clearly not impressed by him but he could point out at least 6 people who were if he glanced around. Still, he downs both shots and gestures for you to lead the way to the bar.

You lean against the bartop to indicate your interest in buying a drink. Art comes to lean beside you. “Read something in the press that has you hating on me?”

You scoff, look in his direction, then roll your eyes. “The press raves about you,” you answer, pausing to order the drinks. When you look back at him you say, “but I can tell you’re arrogant, full of yourself. It’s not hard to miss the way you bask in the attention.”

The shots are poured and you slide him his glass. The bartender chuckles when you tell him Art Donaldson is paying for your drinks tonight. Art only bats his lashes, you’re giving him whiplash. “You seem to have that same confidence,” he rebuts, but doesn’t retract your statement to the bartender.

You clink your tiny glass to his, hold eye contact a moment. You make your eyes nice and big, flash a cute smile. Art can see how young you really are, how full of life. “Well, it is my birthday.” You chuck the drink back, noticing how Art’s eyes follow the droplet that falls down the corner of your mouth. Instinctively he reaches for it, wants to swipe it into your mouth with his thumb.

You stop him with a hand to his wrist. Art watches you complete the motion on your own and he gulps. Once you pop your thumb from your mouth, you give him one more innocent smile, pop up on your tippy toes and press a kiss to his cheek. Your sticky lipgloss leaves a residue but Art can’t find himself to mind. You drop back down and look at him expectantly.

“Happy birthday,” he tells you, incredulous. You drop his wrist, then pluck the glass of tequila that he’s still holding from his other hand. He thinks you might be a witch.

“Thank you, Artie,” you say sweetly. He watches you walk away, swooning. He sits on the barstool closest him and shakes his head to wipe the fog. He takes another look over his shoulder to find you sneaking a glance at him. Art grants you his typical crooked smile. You both know: he’s going to break you.

[luveline]

kbd —your youngest daughter’s second birthday is hectic but perfect. dad!steve x mom!reader, 1.7k

“It’s crazy that she won’t remember.” 

“I know, but they remember all the love, right?” you say, stretching the neck of a balloon before attaching it to the hand-pump. “That’s what makes them happy kids. They were happy babies.”

Steve glances around the living room. There are shining cellophane banners on every wall, streamers in the eaves, bunting across the stairs and now balloons to be taped to the windows and hung from the ceiling. It’s five in the morning, and while you and Steve are both a tad slow with the clinging dregs of fatigue, neither of you are grumpy. It’s hardly much earlier than you wake up most days.

“I guess so,” Steve says, stretching his own balloon. 

“Even if she doesn’t remember, we’ll still remember,” you say with a shrug. “Don’t you remember Avery’s second birthday?” 

Steve remembers every birthday, and he gets your point. He wasn’t suggesting you make less effort and you know that, but it really freaks him out sometimes that the girls won’t remember their childhoods like he does. He’s telling you because he tells you everything.

“We got her a purple puppy teddy with those weird glass eyes and she accidentally hit you in the face really hard,” he says.

Steve remembers you pretending it didn’t hurt, and wiping the instinctive wetness from your eyes. You hadn’t been upset, but injuries near the sinuses make everybody cry. He’d wiped your tears away and he’d been deadly concerned; that was at a time where he was still marginally insecure about being a family, scared you’d one day realise you didn’t want it with him, that it was too hard and he was doing too little, every gentle caress of his thumb pleading with you not to hate him for it. 

But that was dramatic, in hindsight. When Avery noticed you were upset and began to cry too, you’d ducked away from Steve’s touch to pick her up and soothe her. You love Steve like breathing and Avery ten times as much. Your tears really were because you couldn’t help them.

“Ouch,” you say, slipping the balloon from the pump to tie around your two fingers. “I’m glad they don’t like Beanie Babies. That puppy almost took my teeth out.” 

He gives you a long look. “You’d still be cute without teeth, probably.” 

“Thank you.” 

You overestimate how much time you need to finish decorating. At 6AM you’re done, and at 7AM you’re napping, you and Steve with your heads pressed together on the couch, your snores blending into one sound. 

It’s Beth who wakes first sometime around 7:30. She doesn’t disturb you, only laughs at all the balloons and your strange predicament as she drags herself up the leather couch. It’s cracking now, you’ve had the same couch since she was born, but her dad always raves about it because he can wipe it clean with a clorox wipe. She avoids the spiky skin of it and curls up gently against Steve’s chest. She sniffs his shirt, and usually he senses someone’s close by to wrap an arm around them, but it’s you who feels her and covers her tummy with your hand. 

Upstairs, barely twenty minutes later, Dove wakes. She’s trapped in her cot and furious about it, whining behind a closed door, but luckily her best big sister Avery is waking up too. 

“Hi, Dove,” she says, beaming at her frowny sister, “it’s your birthday, did you know? Happy birthday!” Avery reaches arms just long enough to help Dove over the crib and onto the floor. “Wanna hol’ my hand?” 

“Okay.” 

Happier to be released, Dove and Avery backtrack to your bedroom and find it empty. “They must be downstairs,” Avery assumes. “Do you want socks?” 

Avery outfits them both in socks. You and Steve would be sorry you missed it if you knew it happened, Avery at her most gentle as she slips a pair of her socks over Dove’s tiny feet, and then her own. “Warm toes,” Avery says, “why does the floor get cold at night time?” 

Dove doesn’t know. She holds her hands out and Avery shakes her head. “Dad said I can’t carry you on the stairs. Come on, let’s go see what’s for breakfast. It’s your birthday so you can probably get to pick.” 

“Toast?” Dove asks. 

“Sure, Dove, I like toast. French toast? With cinnamon sugar?” 

They make it to the bottom of the stairs unharmed and find a hallway turned to a dreamscape. “Wow!” Avery says, pointing at the balloons. They’ve been taped into a rainbow arch around the door to the living room, and there are streamers hanging down as a curtain to walk through. 

Dove is pleasantly startled, her giggle one of promised excitement. “Wow!” she says. 

On the couch, Steve snorts awake. 

He blinks dry eyes, arms instinctively squeezing the small mass at his chest, worried he’s grabbed a kid and forgotten and the poor girls about to fall. After a second he gets his wits back and realises it’s only a dozing Beth, your hand sandwiched under his arm. 

He blows out a breath and finds the source of the commotion; Avery and Dove stands giggling in the doorway, the pink paper streamers kissing their faces as they look up at them. 

“Good morning!” he says, giving you a little nudge. “Dove, baby, it’s your birthday! Happy birthday! Can you see, the decorating fairies came when you were sleeping.” 

“Happy birthday!” you croak agreeably. 

“Thanks,” Beth says, rubbing her nose against his chest. 

“Not yours, sweetheart,” Steve says. 

“Okay.” She settles with a good pat on the back. 

For breakfast, Dove indeed wants French toast with ‘minnamin’, and you couldn’t be happier to make it. You sit her in her high chair with a pillow behind her back, you and Steve performing something of a dance as you rush to feed three hungry girls while satiating the birthday girl's demands. “You can have anything you want,” Steve promised. Why would he do that? Now Dove wants a kiss, and the bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, and another kiss, and Mommy, can we have cocoa? 

It’s hectic, but it’s fine. If she wants some hot cocoa of course she can have it, it’s just a lot to happen all at once. 

“Careful,” you say, lifting Steve’s arm away from the burner. He’s shifted the pan off of the heat and forgotten about it. “Ooh, saved your arm hair.” 

“Jesus,” he says, yanking his arm out of your touch, but more importantly, away from the heat. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Mom, can I have water please?” Beth asks. 

You lean up into the big cabinet full of glasses for her favourite plastic cup and rinse it out. You fill it from the jug in the fridge and put it down in front of her with a big kiss pressed to the back of her head. “Okay?” you ask. 

“Thank you.” 

“Avery, what are you gonna have to drink?” 

“Coffee.” 

“I don’t think so, little miss. Coffee isn’t very good for you, and it tastes strong.” 

Avery tries to stop you from walking away, so you stay, despite Steve’s scary-looking cooking. He’s dangerous about the heat. 

“What?” you ask, looking down at her. 

“Are you gonna give Dove the presents after breakfast?” she whispers. 

“Yeh, bub. Don’t worry, I wrapped yours last night.” 

She beams at you. She’d stuck up in bed like a dagger when she remembered she hadn’t wrapped it, but you promised to do it if only to get her to go to sleep. 

She hums as you tip her head back and tap your noses together, upside down.

“And… ta da!” Steve puts a plate of chopped up French toast and sugar soaked fruits in front of the birthday girl. The toast is thick and browned, but cut into little squares so she can’t choke. “Birthday breakfast for my beautiful girl.” He kisses her chubby cheek. 

“Who’s next?” he asks, pulling up. “Bethie, you want French toast too?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“You want to help me make it?” 

“I can?” she asks, propping herself with two hands on the table. 

“Steve, please be careful,” you beg. 

“What, like I’m gonna let her get burned?” 

He scoops Beth up. You wrap your arms in front of Avery with your chin atop her head, two girly shields to protect you from the oncoming argument. 

In her high chair, Dove laughs around a mouthful of raspberries and bread. “Dad, stop frowning!” she demands. Frowning sounds like ‘fwoming’ and raspberry juice stains her chin, but it is her birthday, so you and Steve leave your playful arguing for another time. 

“You’re on my list,” he whispers threateningly. 

You pull up a seat between Dove and Avey to make sure Dove doesn’t hurt herself in her greed. “You’re on my list.” 

Dove doesn’t need help eating anymore, but she seems to enjoy the attention, so you begin feeding her one forkful of yummy sugary breakfast at a time. “Want maple syrup?” you ask her. 

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Yes!” 

“Okay, baby. Dad, can we get some syrup over here?” 

“Lazy, awful woman. What happened to her legs?” he asks Beth, who giggles like she knows she shouldn’t laugh. 

Dove smiles. She looks as happy as she ever has, with her slept-in pyjamas and her bed head, pink on her lips, brown sugar dusting the front of her nose. “I can’t believe you’re already two,” you say, wiping her nose gently. “Is that yummy?” 

“Yummy,” she says agreeably, lips parting the second you raise her fork. 

You got a present for each of the girls, though it isn’t their day, because you didn’t want them to feel left out, but honestly they don’t seem like they’ll need any extra spoiling. Bethie’s laughing sitting on the counter as Steve lets egg drip on her knee, squeamish giggling that in turn makes Avery laugh and attempt to join them. Steve grabs her under the arms and puts her right next to Beth. 

“Two assistants!” he says. “I’m spoiled. Which one of you wants to find the maple syrup? It’s somewhere in all that mess.” 

[melodyanqel]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (001. brighter days)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ warnings: mention of depression and trauma

⤷ wc: 2.4k words

⤷ note: the story begins during s2 and im excited when the real action happens

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet

❰ 2024, SOUTH KOREA. ❱

Truthfully, Jun-ho and Lily weren’t expecting to have a serious relationship for many reasons. 

One is that they live in different countries. Another big one is their age gap. Sure, they’re both adults and eight years apart but the public will see them as brother and sister. Some would also believe they’re uncle and niece. It could be their appearances and personalities. 

Jun-ho is more mature, stern, and brave, yet has goodwill. 

Lily is so full of life, sometimes shy, and intelligent, but she can be childish. 

Nevertheless, the string between the couple couldn’t break. Jun-ho and Lily are inseparable. Even though it wasn’t easy, they found ways to balance out the relationship.

Indeed, Lily had to confess to her family that she wasn’t lying about being in a long-distance relationship. She loved her family and everything they did, but she was afraid they would think it was all foolish, and dating someone continents away from her was absurd. One day, Jun-ho had to commit. He flew to America to be with Lily and introduce himself to her relatives. 

But then it gets more complicated. 

Jun-ho and Lily must choose which country to stay together even if they’re willing to take their relationship further. So, after discussing it for a while, Lily wanted to live in Korea. It was a bittersweet decision, but her family had never seen her so happy and head over heels for someone. Her parents and older sister may be miles apart but she thinks about them daily.

The daylight comes as such intricately woven threads of gold.

It’s morning and that means it’s a new day. Inside a studio apartment, Lily makes herself something to eat while relaxing music plays in the background. She sips her matcha latte and reads the pink calendar on the wall by the cabinets. 

September 13. Today is Jun-ho’s birthday. 

After eating her breakfast pancakes, Lily has to go to work. Most people can agree that no one wants to show up at their job that they don’t enjoy. However, Lily likes being an elementary teacher at a wonderful school. She is excellent with kids. It could just be her sister has a son who is growing up so fast and she babysits him when she used to live in America. But Lily is passionate about shaping young minds and creating a foundation for lifelong learning.

Not to mention, Lily is the kids’ favorite teacher. They love having her around and find her teaching fun. Plus, Lily has gotten better in Korean. She still has her accent and it's a bit choppy when she speaks but can read, write, and understand the language. 

In her bedroom, she picks out an outfit. Since it’s summer, she’ll wear something casual and formal. The young woman takes out a long white dress with pink flowers, a lightweight cardigan, and sandals. She added small bow clips to her hair.

Lily sometimes wishes she was taller because she is short—five feet and one inch but has the brightest energy. Of course, Jun-ho opposes it. He finds it adorable how she goes on her tippy-toes to dig her face into his chest. 

She then leaves and goes to the subway station. The school is in Ssangmun-dong which is quite far from her apartment, but she likes that it is close to Jun-ho’s workplace. Lily would wait for him outside the police station and go home together. Even though they’ve been dating for two years, they don’t share a space. 

Most couples would do it if it’s more than one year into their relationship, but Lily insists she stays in the studio apartment because it’s affordable. When first moving to South Korea, Lily lived with Mrs. Hwang and Jun-ho. Mrs. Hwang adores her almost like a child of her own. She was super glad her youngest son was proud to be with someone like Lily. 

It’s ordinary for the subway station to be hectic. Lily has the patience but won’t be nice if something or someone ticks her off. She is seen as sweet and kind, but no one should get on her bad side. 

After getting her ticket at the fare, Lily waits for her transportation. While she waits, she takes out her phone to text back her family. The time zone is different but it doesn’t mean she can’t stay in touch with her loved ones. Her parents and sister would send short and sweet messages as motivation. 

But what’s upsetting is that she hardly visits America. 

Lily would get homesick and wonder if she’d see her family more. Call it absurd for her to move out of the country, but Lily hopes to have enough money to let them travel to South Korea. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

“Good morning, class! Today, we’ll be doing a lot of fun activities, but the best one of them all is art.” 

In unison, the boys and girls cheered happily because they loved to do art. Even though the kids aren’t professional artists, Lily is amazed by their creativity. 

“We’ll be doing art as our last thing of the day. First, we continue with our spelling, addition, and subtraction. I also expect everyone to be on their best behavior. Understand, class?” Lily finished her instructions. 

“Yes, Ms. Lily!” They complied as wonderful listeners. 

When she first dated Jun-ho, she told him she wanted to teach kids and help them grow with strong minds and great hearts. He was impressed. Jun-ho also wanted to help society by protecting and saving the innocent, and locking up the bad guys. His brother, In-ho, inspired him because he was a police officer and taught him to see the different points of view in the world. 

Subsequently, it’s lunchtime.

Lily and her friend, Park So-eun, whom she has known for two years, are having a break together in the garden. 

“You seemed like you’re in a good mood.” So-eun noticed Lily was happier than usual. She instantly knows what's up whenever her friend acts differently. The American woman munches on her kimbap. She replies, “What do you mean? I'm still the same." A chuckle lets out of her lips. However, So-eun raises an eyebrow. Lily rolls her eyes with a smile because her friend is always in her business, which she doesn't mind.

"It's Jun-ho birthday and we'll be throwing a small party at my place after work. I baked a cake, prepared decorations, and a gift.” Lily tells So-eun about the celebration. She sometimes wonders if her friend ever gets tired of her talking about Jun-ho. But So-eun is a lovely woman—optimistic, caring, level-headed, beautiful, and has no filter. 

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” She claps her hands which makes Lily smile. Then she says, “You know, I still can’t get over how you found someone so damn hot like Jun-ho.” So-eun would be called a liar if she didn’t find Jun-ho attractive. Lily giggles blithely. “I’m the female lead of a K-drama.” She humored and they both laughed in content. 

So-eun clears her throat before responding. “I hope you both have a nice night. I can tell you two are a match made in heaven.” She gives Lily a dose of generosity. A fun fact about her and Jun-ho is that they went to the same college but never knew each other. Now, they are friends. Lily nodded, “Thank you so much.” She’ll always be thankful for everyone’s cordiality. 

So-eun opens her arms, “Come on. I know you need it.” She said. 

Lily snickers, “I know I do.” and accepts the hug. 

When lunchtime is over and the hours pass, it's close to the end of the day. Lily did promise her students about doing art as the last activity. The classroom is full of joy and excitement. Some of her students are wearing aprons to prevent the paint from staining their clothes and some are coloring away with markers, colored pencils, and crayons. She walks from table to table to see they’re all having fun. 

“Ms. Lily! I made something for you!” 

One of her students approaches to give her a drawing. The student’s name is Bo-young and she is the cutest and excellent learner. Lily turns around to see the little girl’s artwork. Her doe eyes widen. “Oh my goodness! It’s beautiful! Thank you, Bo-young!” She appreciates her and takes the paper. 

Bo-young drew Jun-ho and Lily as a royal prince and a princess. She even wrote their names to show who is who. 

The little girl sends a toothy smile. “You’re welcome! I hope Jun-ho samchon will like it.” Jun-ho had come by to the school whenever he was not on duty. The kids immediately love him because he seems like a hero in their eyes and is gentle with them.

Lily bends down to Bo-young’s level. “He will love it. This is incredible.” She assured the talented child. It’s also a perfect birthday gift.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

Evening graces the sky once more with its ambient deep hues.

Lily is cleaning up the room so she can clock out. The day was a success. Everyone behaved, followed directions, and cooperated. But most importantly, they had fun. While organizing the colored pencils, her phone rang at her desk. Lily stopped to see who was calling her. She goes over and checks it. Her pinky lips etched a smile. Mrs. Hwang is calling. 

She picks it up. “Hello, omonim (mother). How are you?” The pleasant voice of the incredible woman who welcomed Lily into her life without hesitation. 

Mrs. Hwang answers, “I’m doing good, dear. I called you because I made dinner for you and Jun-ho to eat and you can pick it up at the house. I don't want to interfere with your guys' moment together."

Lily can feel her spirit has been uplifted.

“Thank you, omonim. Jun-ho and I will be there soon. Also, your presence makes us happy.” Mrs. Hwang is a wonderful woman. Lily will never stop appreciating her.

"You're welcome. When you reach my age, you'll be surprised how good it feels about not having to do extra dishes and purchasing more food." She raised two boys in most of her youth as a single mother. So, she knows when it's time to let them do their own things.

Lily chuckles because Mrs. Hwang once told her stories about how living with boys every day was a challenge. "But still. Jun-ho will always need you, even when he is a grown man." She reminds the older woman. A mother's love is a deep, unconditional, and unwavering love that a mother has for her child.

Mrs. Hwang says, "Yes, indeed. Well, enjoy your night, dear. Bye-bye." She bids goodbye to Lily. After the call, the young teacher continues to tidy up the classroom and turn off the lights. 

Despite the hot summer air in the daytime, the night brings a comforting breeze. All you need to do is soak in the weather.

Lily can never have enough with the city lights of Seoul. She sometimes can’t believe she lives in this country. But her homeland is just as gorgeous. 

Ssangmun-dong Police Department.

Lily waits outside of the building for Jun-ho to change out his uniform. He was once a detective and is now a traffic officer because he figures he is better at controlling road safety and not catching criminals. That’s what Jun-ho reasoned. 

In honesty, Lily didn’t mind him stepping down as a detective. He once told her it was best for his mental and physical health. Lily may not know what it’s like to be in Jun-ho's shoes when he was a detective but she’ll support any decision he makes. Also, from Lily’s perspective, and possibly others would agree, Jun-ho’s strong-willed yet kind personality is super attractive. He is the man of her dreams. 

“My love, are you ready?” 

The soothing, baritone voice erupts the silence. Lily turns her head to see Jun-ho in casual clothes. His raven hair has grown out and looks more shaggy yet fluffier. Lily sometimes hopes he’ll leave it that way. She replies to her lover. “Yes! But first, we have to go to your omonim’s. She made us dinner and we can spend the night at my place.” Lily is stoked because she had the whole week to set up the celebration. 

Jun-ho sees the elation glimmering in her russet brown eyes. His exhaustion has been erased because of Lily’s bright energy. Jun-ho grins, “Okay. I’m excited.” He abruptly leans close to his beautiful angel’s face. She gets astounded and immediately moves her head back with red cheeks. “Jun-ho!” Lily squeaks. She isn’t used to publicly displaying affection. Jun-ho chuckled because he was going for a kiss on the lips but he pecked her forehead instead. 

His gentle touch still makes Lily go crazy. Well, Jun-ho alone makes her go crazy. 

The lovers intertwine hands, head into the car, and drive through the city. 

“Hey, what did you prepare?” Jun-ho asked. He is curious because Lily is great at surprises. She shakes her head with a playful smile. “No! You have to wait!” She is stalling. It would annoy Jun-ho but with Lily, he’ll let it slide. 

“Fine. Ms. Lily.” He obeyed in English. His gaze glances at his girl. She stared at him all timid. He enjoys teasing her and becoming a shy mess. It’s mean of him to make her flustered. But it’s enduring for someone tough and mighty. 

“You’re suddenly chirpy. Is it because it’s your birthday?” Lily inquired about Jun-ho’s peculiar attitude. He isn’t usually this daring on his birthdays. 

Jun-ho responded, “It could be. I had much worse days but I guess I gave enough hope and nothing happened.” He sounds blunt but is sincere. However, Lily is very understanding of his mental state. 

One year into their relationship, she noticed Jun-ho wasn’t his usual self. He would wake up from nightmares which led to sleep deprivation and he had episodes. Jun-ho tried to convince Lily that he was doing fine until the people began to see the denial of being hurt on the inside.

After looking at himself in the mirror, Jun-ho attempted to smile but it automatically dropped. He did his favorite things like boxing but realized he was releasing negative emotions which made him look like he had anger issues. Jun-ho came to his senses that he wasn’t well. 

He asked the two most important people in his life and they helped in a heartbeat. If only he didn’t know what his brother had become. 

series masterlist | two

[rubywithecat]

Kissing them when they are least expecting it (Bonten ver.) (fem. reader)

Mikey

- It was supposed to be your dinner date with Mikey but he was having a call about whatever his business is with other executives on his phone for a long period of time. And you felt like you were left out and eating alone. You suddenly came up with an idea that might make him pay attention to you. “Mikey, look at me!” you said as u quickly stood up from your seat and leaned forward, sneaking a kiss on his lips. He was so stunned to speak for a good sec. “What was that, Mikey?” U heard from his phone. “Hello? R u there?” he was called out. His lips curled up. “I will call back later” he said, then hang up. He grabbed your leg with his under the desk, which makes you almost fall and he laughed. “Mikey! Stop!” You yelled but u were happy “Now ur paying attention to me” you proudly smiled like an achievement. “You little devil” he grinned. “Wait until we get home”

Kokonoi

- “Let’s make a bet” your bestie challenged you at a club. “See that man at VIP over there? Kiss him and I will do your assignment for the whole month and you do mine if you fail” she said. “That’s not hard” you winked at her as you confidently walked in your heels. “Miss, you can’t enter this area, it’s for VIP only” a waiter requested. “Do I not look like a VIP?” You attempted and with your pretty privilege, u were let in. You observed the area. Then saw the opportunity and quickly grabbed a champagne glass, purposely bumped into kokonoi. “Omg! Why did you bump into me, sir?!” U gasped dramatically as he was clueless. “Excuse me?? It’s you who bump me?” He defended. “You can’t bully a girl just because she’s weak” you said you stood up on your toe and sneaked a kiss on his lip. “That’s a price you have to pay” you said as you looked at your bestie who was watching you and gave thumbs up. You proudly smiled back at her and quickly about to walk away, embarrassed and awkward. “Sorry, sir… Plz excuse me”. But before you could leave, he grabbed your hands and said, “I am not that cheap, Miss” he smirked as you realized u made the big mistake ever.

Kakucho

-Your neighbor’s house was broken into yesteday so u were scared to live alone at your apartment. You asked your friend, Kakucho to stay a night with you before you install the new security service cuz he’s the only fri of yours who can fight really good. He agreed when he came you invited him for dinner that you prepared beforehand. To admit, you have a crush on him but kept it secret not to ruin friendship. You guys talked and talked and it was so much fun. You were at 3 glasses of wine and kind of drunk but he wasn’t drunk at all. His talking, slowly became blurry in your ears and you were just staring at him, and then his lips and without telling him anything, you kissed him. He was caught off guard but you didn’t expect him to kiss you back but he did, and it was a nice long kiss. “U have no idea how much I fantasize about you” He said as he wickedly smiled as you were the one who caught off guard.

Ran

- You are his assistant and it’s your birthday. However, you didn’t skip work cuz you don’t have anyone to spend time with anyway. “Miss (ur last name), come into my office” Ran said as he walked past your desk so you followed him. You closed the office door behind you as you have entered. “Do you need anything, sir?” You asked formally and he shook his head. Then he suddenly pulled out a gift box from his desk drawer and gave it to you which really surprised you. “What’s that for, sir?” You asked, confused. “Isn’t it your birthday?” he replied. “Yeah… I didn’t think you would remember…” you replied. He blushed but acted cool. “Well, open it” he said as he looked at your reaction. You saw a really pretty and expensive necklace from Cartier. “Omg! Sir, I can’t accept it. It’s too expensive” you handed back. “Take it. I especially chose this for you”. “Really? If then…thanks a lot!” You were more than happy cuz it’s your first luxury item and you can’t help but without your own knowledge, you suddenly kissed his cheek. Then you were so embarrassed about what you had done! You apologized quickly. “I’m so sorry, sir! I’m sorry…” but interrupted by his kiss on your lips as he grabbed your neck. “Dont try to resist it now. You started it first, bby” he smirked.

Rindou

- You are at an arcade and competing with him in virtual driving game. You properly scored well but when it’s his turn, he’s doing a lot better than you and got a perfect score. “Let’s rematch” you said feeling competitive. He smirked. “Just accept the fact that you can’t win me, bby but fine” he said as he got up from the seat. You scored a lil more than previous one but you don’t think you will win over him this time too so you came up with a wicked idea. He was nearly to complete his match and suddenly you kissed him and he lost focus which he crashed into another car and lost points. He scored less than you finally. “I win!” You yelled. “That’s cheating, y/n!” He defended. “Do you have any proof?” You teased him. He looked at you for a sec and grabbed you by your waist and pushed you back to the chair. “Rindou! wtf r u doing? Get off me!” You said. He trapped you on the chair as he lean closer. “You’re not getting away with this, love”

Sanzu

- You were arguing with him cuz you got yourself into almost having a car accident and he was worried. “You’re not driving anymore. That is.” He said as he took the car key from your hand. “Give me back!” You defended. “Why would I?” he replied proudly as your attempt to grab the key back failed. “You can’t control what I have to do!” You yelled. “Look, I’m not changing my mind and ur not getting your key back” he continued “You could have hurt and I’m gonna—“ He was interrupted as you suddenly kissed him. He was so shocked that his grips to key was weakened so you could quickly grab a key from him easily. “Got it!” you said and teased him with gesture and as you were gonna walk away, he laughed “Don’t underestimate me, sweetheart” and he pushed you down to the couch. At the same time, he also knelt onto it, facing you on your top. “It’s your fault for testing me” he smirked and grabbed your hands tight as the key dropped from the side and he ignored it cuz his only focus now is you. ;)

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