#hate to see him go love to watch him leave

[inkedinshadows]

Tea, Cookies, and Love

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel takes care of his mate while she's on her period.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.3k

@azrielappreciationweek

You hated being on your period.

Even after years, it was still hard to deal with the cramps and pain, so strong that most days you couldn’t even get out of bed. Instead, you curled up under the warm sheets, clutching a hot water bottle tightly over your aching tummy. It didn’t help much with the pain, but you liked the comfort it brought.

The door opened silently, and Azriel slipped inside. He had a steaming mug in one hand and a small plate with chocolate cookies in the other. “I made your tea, love,” he said quietly as you lifted your head from the pillow. “I know it doesn’t do much, but it’s better than nothing.”

You just frowned, watching as he set the plate and mug on the nightstand. The smell of ginger and peppermint reached your nose, but you didn’t touch the tea. You would likely burn your tongue if you took a sip now.

“I thought you were going to Rita’s,” you murmured.

“The others did,” Azriel confirmed. As he sat down next to you, a few tendrils of darkness wove through your hair, drawing a small smile from you even as you clenched the muscles in your stomach at the stabbing pain.

You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to work through the next cramp before you could ask, “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Azriel lifted a brow, visibly trying to hold back a smile. “You're really asking that?”

Sitting a bit straighter in bed, you nodded weakly as you reached for the mug. Even if you couldn't drink it yet, you could still savor its warmth in your hands.

“I'm not leaving you alone and in pain while I’m out having fun,” he stated. His voice was soft, but it carried that underlying determination that told you he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Yet, as he stood up and began undressing, you still tried, blowing over the hot tea. “I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to go with them, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, pulling on some sweatpants and a shirt. He turned to you with a smile. “But I don’t want to.” He climbed into bed next to you, slipping under the blanket and wrapping you in his arms. “No, I want to stay here and take care of my beautiful mate.”

A new warmth spread through your body, one that had nothing to do with the mug or the hot water bottle. You actually removed the latter from your stomach to place it on the nightstand instead, so that you could snuggle closer to Azriel.

“Don’t you need that?” he murmured, letting you move around to find a comfortable position. You settled for curling up against his strong/muscled chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Not really,” you answered in a whisper. You finally took a sip of the tea, and its pleasant taste filled your mouth, warming your throat as you swallowed. Hopefully, it would soothe your aches, but you knew how unlikely that was. “It’s not that hot anymore.”

“Do you want me to go heat it up again?”

You looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. You shook your head slightly. “No, it’s fine. I just want you here.”

“Then I’ll stay here.” Azriel pressed a kiss to your temple, then draped his wings around you. “Whatever you need, my love.”

You wanted to answer, but you grimaced instead as another cramp twisted your gut. It felt like being ripped apart from the inside, and you almost spilled the tea while trying to find a position that would bring you some relief. Azriel’s broad hand covered your lower stomach, gently massaging the area to offer what little comfort he could.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I hate feeling like this too,” you mumbled once the pain settled, at least for the moment. You drank some more tea, and your eyes took in the chocolate cookies he had brought you. “Are those Elain’s cookies?”

Azriel nodded, his hand still drawing soothing circles on your stomach. “She made them this morning. I thought you might want some before they're all gone.”

“Gods, I love you,” you breathed. You turned your head just enough for your lips to brush against his, but you didn't kiss him yet. “You just make it so easy.”

Azriel's lips curled into an amused smile. “I love you too, beautiful. But what is it that I make easy?”

You set the mug down, cupping his face with your now-free hands. “Loving you, Az.” You finally kissed him, pouring all your feelings and gratitude into the kiss and down the bond. “You make it very easy to love you.”

You chuckled as a faint blush crept up his neck. “Thank you,” he murmured, “but I don't do anything special.”

“He doesn't do anything special, he says,” you scoffed playfully. You gave his cheek a kiss, then reached for the mug again and took another warm sip.

Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin and closed your eyes. Azriel held you tighter, cradling you against his body. As he opened his mouth to reply, you knew he was going to say that it was true and he didn't do anything special, so you beat him to it.

“For starters, you're here with me instead of out with our friends,” you pointed out. You didn't even open your eyes, instead simply listing all the reasons why he made you fall in love with him every day, all over again. “You made me tea even if I hadn't asked for it. You rub my aching belly. And you brought me Elain's cookies.”

“I just want to take care of you,” he said. His tone was soft, and he sounded as if he was defending himself and his choices. He really didn't see what was special about it. “And I know how much you like her cookies.”

You sighed quietly. You picked up a cookie, but even though you loved them, you didn't feel like eating anything right now. You'd save them for later, when the cramps would hopefully relent. So you offered it to him without a word.

Azriel took it, brows furrowed. “You want me to feed you?”

Your quiet chuckle was interrupted by a twinge of pain deep in your core, and you quickly disguised it by saying, “I want you to have it.”

He shook his head and handed the cookie back to you. “They're for you.”

“The others are for me. That one is for you.” You didn't even touch it, opting to simply sip from your mug again. “It's how bonds are accepted.”

“We accepted the bond years ago,” he mused. He didn't take a bite, instead waiting to see where you were going with this.

“I know.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. He was beautiful, and he was yours. Your love and your home. Your mate. Just as you were his. You knew he considered himself lucky to be with you, but he never realized you were the lucky one.

“Every day, I am beyond grateful that the Mother blessed me with you as my mate,” you murmured. A sudden lump formed in your throat, and you weren't sure if the tears prickling your eyes were caused by the hormones or the depth of your feelings for him. “And I want you to eat that cookie. Because I want you to know that I would choose you in every life, no matter what.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment, but you could see the swirling emotions in his hazel eyes. The love and care, the vulnerability he showed only to you. He slowly lifted the cookie to his lips and took a small bite, his eyes never leaving yours, your ache momentarily forgotten.

“I would choose you in every life too,” he said softly. “I would find you, and I would love you. In every life, every world.”

When you kissed again, the bond between your souls glowed stronger and brighter.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[nanamiscocksleeve]

LADS Men With a Plus Size Reader

Warnings: None! This is actually very fluffy! Maybe PG13 at most! (OMG NCS, no smut?!😲😲😲) A/N: Finally, got around to writing one of the promised headcanons! Now, allow me to be clear here. The amount of customization the game allows is incredible but MC is a little bit on the smaller side, and I would have loved to see an option for a more robust body build. The same way there are naturally thin and petite women, there are also bigger and more rounded women as well and I think there was an opportunity lost there. Anyone that tries to hate on this will be blocked immediately.

Zayne:

Zayne’s large hand envelopes yours as you walk to the cafe he’d recommended. You knew it was popular amongst the hospital staff and weren’t surprised to see familiar faces; one of the tables was completely occupied by some of Zayne’s surgical nurses. 

“Why don’t you get a table?” Zayne brushes a kiss on top of your hair. “And I’ll get the food. Do you still want a hazelnut latte with your cake?”

“Yes please!” Zayne’s eyes fill with warmth as he squeezes your hand before walking towards the cashier. You wander over and pick a table near the nurses. You take out your phone and start to browse Instagram when a snide voice is heard from the table behind you. 

“Gross.”

You freeze but don’t dare turn around. Maybe it wasn’t directed at you. 

“That’s Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend?”

Shit it was.

“Why is he with that porker?”

“You’d think a man like that would have better taste.”

“I heard that they were childhood friends. He’s probably dating her out of pity.”

Even as your blood rages, you feel tears pricking the backs of your eyes. Were they aware you could hear them? And they had just said your worst fears out loud; that Zayne was dating you as a favor, not because he was actually into you. It was an old insecurity you hadn’t really grown out of. You startle slightly as Zayne suddenly sits down opposite you, food and beverages in hand. He sets down your coffee and cake while taking his own plate and tea off the tray.

“Why are you so upset?” He immediately observes the distress on your face and the way your eyes are glistening. You shake your head and dab at your eyes with a napkin, Zayne watching you intently. The cute slice of cake he’s gotten for you sits temptingly in line with your vision but right now it might as well be a lump of clay, all appetite for it gone. 

Zayne’s eyes flick to the cake and back to you. “Did I get the wrong one?”

You’re about to shake your head no when the conversation at the table behind you picks up again. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed Zayne sitting down. 

“He deserves so much more than that blob. There are so many attractive women at the hospital.”

“I agree. He could get anyone he wanted. Someone who actually takes care of their health and watches their figure.”

Shame fills you and you’re unable to look at Zayne in the eyes, knowing he had heard them, even though you know it was far from the truth. You ate all your vegetables and exercised frequently. But your body just refused to slim down no matter what you did. No matter how much you tried to lose weight, the weight just didn’t want to lose you. You’re about to get up and leave when Zayne speaks up, loud and clear, in a scathing tone. 

“Right, because weight is the only indicator of a person’s health, isn’t it?” Zayne’s words drip with sarcasm. 

The entire nurses’ table jumps at his voice, turning around to look at him.

“Oh, Dr. Zayne! We weren’t-”

“I don’t care what you weren’t doing. Do not talk about anyone that way, patient or not. Were you not taught compassion as part of your medical training? Or is it reserved for people who look a certain way?” His eyes are narrowed and the table looks tense. One by one the nurses start to get up, quietly murmuring apologies to him as they exit the cafe. 

Zayne watches them go, anger still visible in his eyes before turning his attention back to you. His hand covers yours on top of the table. “Are you all right?”

You sniff. “I try. You know I try. I cook all my meals. I exercise. We work out together. But I can’t get the weight to go away.” 

“No sweetheart. I know how much you take care of yourself.” Zayne reaches across the table to wipe your tears. “You do not have to lose any weight. You’re perfectly healthy, and as long as that’s clear, nothing else matters.”

“You’re not dating me out of pity?” You look at him uncertainly. 

“Pity?” Zayne chuckles in disbelief. “Darling when you first started coming to my office I was sure you were out of my league.” His thumb strokes your hand reassuringly.

“You’re so amazing. Talented, compassionate, considerate. And all those things will always matter more to me than anything else.”

He looks at your neglected slice of cake. “Now don’t take out your sadness on the dessert. If you don’t finish it in 5 minutes, it’s mine.”

Rafayel:

You grip your wrap firmly around your shoulders, stepping with grace into the dazzling venue. You never missed Rafayel’s shows if you could help it but this time around, you had a skin in the game. Literally.

One night after a round of passionate lovemaking, you had woken to find Rafayel painting, and when you saw what he was working on, you’d blushed and smacked him on the shoulder.

There, in the brush strokes, he had painted you sleeping on his bed, your hair in disarray as it cascaded down your back, your face buried into the pillow and not quite visible. The sheets covered you modestly but the wide curve of your hips, the pudges of fat at your side, and the bra rolls under your arms were all painted with clarity and you found you couldn’t look at it. A feeling of unease had settled in your stomach. Was this the way your boyfriend viewed you?

You had brought it up to Rafayel in a small voice. “Do you think I’m fat?”

Your heart sank as Rafayel’s face, which had been so soft, a curve in his lips as he had painted, changed into a mask of dismay. “Fat?” he had asked, looking quite upset. “Where in this painting have I made you look fat?”

“Here. And here.” You point out the areas and Rafayel pulls you against him, holding you fiercely. 

“Cutie, I swear to God I’m just painting you as you are. I don’t think you look fat at all. I’m just painting my beautiful girlfriend in all her glory.” Crushed against his chest, you try to talk. 

“But, most women in paintings don’t look like that, they have smaller hips and thighs and mine look so…ugly.”

You thought Rafayel’s heart might have broken as he heard your word of choice. “There’s nothing about you that’s ugly. None of this is ugly. It’s a body. Your body. And baby I love every inch of it exactly as it is. I didn’t mean to make you sad while I painted all the pretty little pieces of you that make you whole.” His hands trace your sides, squeezing you reassuringly. 

“There’s so much beauty in you baby. That’s all I see in this painting. You’ll always be the biggest masterpiece in my life.”

Knowing he held you in such high esteem had done wonders for your confidence, which was what you were trying to emulate as you walked into the gallery. Rafayel had hesitantly asked for your permission to showcase that painting for this show, promising he’d never use it without your consent. Nervous as you were, part of you was actually thrilled that it was going to be used. It was difficult to make out who the subject in the portrait was since your face wasn’t entirely visible. 

Still, it felt like an out-of-body experience as you approached the hung canvas, observing the crowd that flocked to it. Some people nodded at it quietly before moving on, others commented under their breath that Rafayel should have chosen a more appropriate model. 

“Can you imagine this woman being naked in his bed?” One of them asked and her friends snickered sycophantically. “He must have been drunk or something.”

“And why is that?” You turn in time to see Rafayel, dressed sharply in a couture outfit approach you and pull you to his side, his hand resting possessively on the jut of your hip. The woman backpedals.

“Mr. Rafayel! I mean, obviously, your work is unique but I can’t help but wonder what you might have been trying to convey when you painted someone with such a…heavy structure.”

Rafayel pretends to consider her words. “I suppose…people have different views on what beauty is. All I was trying to convey was how much I loved the person in the painting. Anyone that doesn’t see the beauty in this particular painting, well I’m afraid they have poor taste.”

Grinning at the affronted look on her face, Rafayel whisks you away, but not before you throw her a smug smirk over your shoulder. 

Sylus:

Who knew underground mafia bosses loved their parties as much as their money? As strange as it was, the cliques had started becoming familiar with you hanging around. Anytime Sylus was invited to a gathering, it was expected that you were his plus one. While most of the men entertained polite conversation with you, it was no secret how coveted Sylus was by the women in the N109 zone. 

They wrinkled their noses as you walked by, your head held high, knowing you shouldn’t let their words get to you but it was hard. You tell the bartender your order and put a $100 bill into the tip jar. After all, you couldn’t embarrass Sylus by handing out a miserly tip when he was supposed to be the richest man here.

You knew you looked good enough to kill; Sylus had chosen the gown you were wearing himself, even hiring a personal tailor to fit the dress to flaunt your best assets and a thick choker of diamonds glittered on your neck. The plunging V-line of the dress showed off a tempting display of creamy cleavage, the bodice of the dress pushing up your impressive bosom. The material crept over your belly and hips, your fupa visible a little more than you would have liked but Sylus had refused to hear otherwise. You remember the way his hands had caressed the bulge of fat after helping you zip up the gown, his low, contented, purr ringing in your ears.

“Kitten, you’re going to be every man’s envy tonight. How delightful that I get to flaunt you as mine.”  

A group of women, all model-thin and gorgeous, approach the bar, their cold eyes fixed on you, wearing smiles that could cut glass. Your fingers drum nervously on the counter as you try to ignore them. One of the women spies the tip you had put in and jerks her chin at you, her lips twisting into what looks like a sneer. 

“So Sylus has the money to let you throw around $100 bills into tip jars. I wonder…” She pauses and the group draws collectively closer like a cackle of hyenas. “Wouldn’t his finances be more wisely spent on other avenues?”

“Such as?” You ask carefully.

“A good plastic surgeon perhaps? Lord knows you could use some liposuction in more places than one.” Her entourage leers at you while covering their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Your back stiffens and your eyes widen in shock. You resist the urge to cover your middle. You knew you should have pushed harder to have the gown loosened. Your fupa, the soft squidge that bulged under the material of the dress…it was a mistake thinking you could attend a party with it showing up so obviously. 

A million retorts form in your head but they all die weakly on your tongue. You had no defense, and you felt pathetic that you were sitting here and taking their abuse but your mind felt frozen, like you couldn’t plan your next move. 

“How did you ever think that someone like you could pull off a dress like that?” The woman presses, her eyes boring into yours. Your pulse quickens as you try to find a way to escape.

“You’re right, she can’t pull off a dress like that.” A rich, deep voice answers the woman who pales as she sees Sylus drape his arm possessively around your shoulders. “It’ll wrinkle. That’s why I’ll be pulling it off for her as soon as we get home.”

His eyes flash scarlet as he signals to the bartender, who immediately starts pouring him a drink and expediting your cocktail, setting both glasses on coasters in front of you. You flush but try not to look too pleased as you take a sip, feeling the alcohol loosen you. 

“Mr. Sylus.” The woman’s voice changes immediately and she steps back. “We were just talking about fashion.” she fibs hastily, trying to cover up her reason for using the word ‘dress’.

“Fashion?” Sylus looks at her patronizingly. “Do tell.”

Caught, she wets her lips before saying, “Oh we were talking about jeans and how they never fit or have pockets-”

“Hmm. I can understand these problems. After all, jeans without pockets are like women without curves…there’s nowhere to put your hands.” His broad hand shifts to your hip, his fingers subtly signaling it is time for you to go. You pick up your glass and Sylus holds onto you firmly as you walk back to the crowd. 

Xavier:

You’re sweaty as you and Xavier walk back from the office gym to the locker rooms. Xavier drinks from his water bottle, swallowing zealously. “I think we’ve exercised enough for a whole week,” he says as you walk. You laugh and shake your head.

“We only did a half hour of cardio!”

“Yeah, but we lifted all those weights too! In fact, my muscles already feel stronger.” Xavier flexes his arm and a visible bicep forms, making you grin. 

“Oh so strong,” you say as you reach out to squeeze. Xavier winces slightly and you quickly withdraw. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m a little sore.” You reach the locker rooms.“I’ll wait for you outside.”

You nod and he disappears into the men's locker room. You wander into the women’s, undo the lock, and retrieve your bag, finding a stall to change your clothes. You peel off your damp leggings which stick to your plushy thighs and you drag them down, sighing in relief as the skin jiggles freely in the cool air after being stuffed in the heat of polyester for so long. 

The skin on your butt and stomach are dimpled, something you’d come to terms with. You recall how nervous you’d been to let Xavier see you in a bathing suit at the pool but now you barely glance at them. 

“It’s like your skin is smiling at me when I kiss it.” 

That’s what Xavier had said as he kissed the soft flesh lovingly. Who could possibly feel self-conscious after that analogy? As you fold away the sweaty clothes into a garment bag, you hear several of the other changing room doors open and a group of voices fills the locker room as you change. You normally wouldn’t have paid attention but you freeze when you hear Xavier’s name.

“Why do you think Xavier works out with her of all people?”

“I know! They workout together like almost everyday and she hasn’t lost any weight!”

“She probably lacks the discipline to go on a real diet. It doesn’t matter how much she exercises, that fat isn’t going to go away if she doesn’t eat healthier.”

“Xavier really needs to find a better workout buddy. She only slows him down.”

Your heart clenches in your chest as you hear the cruel commentary. How dare these women talk about your body like it was a source of entertainment for them? Both rage and sorrow fills you as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Suddenly all you can see are the flaws.

How cute, to call cellulite ‘dimpled skin’ like it was something to be adored. You stare at the lumpy skin, at the way your stomach and arms have stretch marks everywhere, the way your skin bulges over the band of your bra. You wait in silence as the women finish their chat and you hear them exit the locker room.

After what seemed like ages, you finally finish dressing and leave the changing room feeling humiliated. The post-workout glow had all but vanished from your system and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being perceived like a huge, hulking, ogre; built big and lumberingly, not at all cute like the princess Xavier claimed you were. You leave the dressing room, then stare in disbelief as the same group of women crowd around Xavier as he waits for you. You lurk, not wanting to be seen, then one of the women speaks up.

“Xavier, if you’re looking for another workout buddy I’d be happy to tag along.” One of them chirps perkily.

Xavier chuckles politely and shakes his head. “Thank you, but no. I have a workout buddy.”

“Oh cmon Xavier, don’t you think you need someone who can challenge you a little more?”

“I do actually. That’s why I work out with her.”

“Does she really challenge you?”

“I think she challenges me more than you. Didn't you finish last in the company relay race?” The woman’s face falls and your heart skips a beat. 

“And you,” Xavier says as he turns to face another woman. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but you struggle to push anything more than 75 pounds. My workout buddy does 150 easily. She’s very strong. Perhaps you might benefit from training with her.” The second woman looks offended even as she’s being chastised. 

Feeling your confidence soar, you skip over to Xavier feeling as light as a feather. Xavier’s eyes light up as you approach. “Ladies,” you say smugly to their scandalized faces before pulling Xavier away from them, holding his arm as you walk away. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[crimsonbubble]

arrogant ceo yunho who gets knocked down by his cute little intern

He works his employees to the bone, forcing long, gruelling hours and unnecessary overtime. He finds it amusing how easily anyone bends over backwards to please him. He loves knowing how many people hate him but can't afford to lose their jobs, so they never formally complain. You've been dealing with this for months, just trying to get through your internship without pulling your hair out, yet Mr. Jeong always finds a way to add more to your plate and make you redo reports.

Everyone has a breaking point, so when your recent report gets flagged, again, you can only purse your lips and turn to your computer to redo it—until you get called into his office. You swear you could feel your eye twitch, your nails digging into your palms as you clench your fists in an attempt not to break everything on your desk.

You march to his office, throwing open the door without knocking or waiting for approval. "Do you find joy in making your employee's lives miserable?" His door hadn't even been closed when you started in on him. Mr. Jeong quirks a brow, a scoff leaving his lips as he pushes reports aside on his desk. With a clenched jaw, you stalked over to his desk, wrapping his tie around his hand and yanking him forward.

His eyes widened as a staggered gasp left his mouth at your incredulous action. “Do you think… this is a laughing matter, Mr. Jeong?” Your voice is hauntingly smooth as you tug on his tie again. “I can terminate your contract for this stunt.” He internally groaned at how shaky his breath was as he talked. You chuckled dryly. “You won’t, though.” You stare into his eyes, glazed over with bottled emotions. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you know I do this job better than any employee here,” You tightened your grip on his tie. “And you’d be damned to lose me.” His office suddenly feels a lot hotter, his throat dry as he tries to focus on the fury in your eyes and not your soft lips that are pulled taut.

Mr. Jeong's lips press together, his eyes locked onto yours, trying to reclaim the authority that has suddenly slipped from his grasp. You can see the conflict brewing in his gaze—indignation fighting with undeniable acknowledgment. He knows you're right. You’ve always known. That’s why he pushes you the hardest, testing how far you'll go, seeing if you'll break. 

For a moment, he’s speechless, his bravado slipping as he struggles to find a response. “This—” he starts, his voice wavering slightly. “This is unacceptable behaviour.” But you don’t let go. Instead, you lean closer, and you can feel his breath hitch. He’s always been untouchable, but right now, he’s caught—like prey staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

You feel something snap inside you—a dam breaking. All the pent-up frustration, all the swallowed rage. “You know what’s unacceptable?” you say, your voice low and laced with contempt. “Being treated like a machine. Expecting loyalty without respect. You think your power gives you the right to treat us like we’re beneath you. But not me. Not anymore.”

His face flushes, and for the first time since you started here, he looks unsure. Vulnerable. It's as if you've shattered the carefully crafted mask he wears every day. You can see him wavering, his confidence fraying like a thread about to snap. You’ve never seen him this way—off-balance, unguarded. There's a strange thrill in watching him come undone, knowing that you've managed to pierce the armour he hides behind.

“Let me be clear,” you say, loosening your grip just enough to let him breathe but not enough for him to pull away. “I will finish this report, and I will do it perfectly like I always do. But from now on, you're going to treat me with the respect I deserve—or I walk. And believe me, you will feel it when I’m gone.” 

He’s silent, the room thick with tension. Slowly, you release his tie, smoothing it back down against his chest. His breathing is uneven, his eyes wide, but he doesn’t stop you. He watches you like he’s never really seen you before, and maybe he hasn’t. Maybe you've been just another employee to him until now, another cog in the machine.

“Get back to work,” he says, but the command lacks its usual edge. You turn to leave, not bothering to wait for a dismissal this time. As you step through the doorway, you don’t slam the door shut. You leave it slightly ajar, knowing he’s still staring after you, something in the atmosphere between you changed forever.

Back at your desk, you start the report again, your hands steady, your mind clear. There's a new feeling thrumming in your chest—an unfamiliar, heady sense of power. For the first time, you think he might be the one who’s afraid to lose you. 

And that realization? It makes you smile.

-

Yunho sat in his office, staring at the office door you walked out of. His breathing came out hot and heavy, his heart racing in his chest. He knows he shouldn’t, but your fire is eating him alive. He can feel it crawl into every crevice of his being, lighting him up from the inside out. He leans back in his chair, trying to will his mind to be anywhere other than his pretty little intern.

Wait.

His pretty little intern…

His pretty little intern…

His pretty little intern…

His mouth fell agape, wondering where the audacity of his own thoughts was coming from. His attempt to think of anything but you was futile; no matter what he did, his thoughts found their way back to you. He ran a hand over his face, a dull throb in his head as he paced around his office. He shook his head with a huff, striding over to his door.

His eyes are scanning the cubicles and desks, watching as all employees avoid eye contact. He walks with a purpose, making his way to your desk. You nonchalantly sip on your coffee, holding a hand out to stop him before he can speak, opting to finish typing out the email before hitting send. He stared at you with disdain, his tongue poking his cheek as he sighed out his frustration. You turned in your chair, cocking your head. “My office. Now.”

“For what reason?” Yunho quirked a brow, taking notice as other workers stopped their work to witness the scene upon them. “Oh? Already forgot the stunt you pulled in my office?” Yunho leaned his hands on your desk, lowering his head to yours. “The only one pulling stunts is you, Mr. Jeong ‘never leaves his office for anything or anyone’ Yunho.” The other workers whispered among themselves, silently applauding you in your stance against your big, bad boss.

Yunho pulled out a folded paper from his jacket, straightening up before throwing it in front of you. “Alright then, here’s your final assignment. Appear in my office in two minutes or face termination.” A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips as he put his hands in his pockets, making his way back to his office. You eyed the folded paper, scoffing at his absurdity. He actually handed you a termination letter.

You clutched the paper tightly as you got out of your seat. You threw it into your desk trashcan, grumbling as you made your way into his office. He sat against his desk, his hands still in his pockets yet his coat was off this time. He briefly took a hand out of his pocket, beckoning you over with a finger. As you stood in front of him, you could smell the cologne waving off him; a mix of earthy tones and sweetness.

Yunho waited for the click of his door, ensuring that it was closed before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. His lips found yours with ease. His kiss was rushed, fueled by the emotions from earlier. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His voice is hushed as he whispers against your lips. His hands stay busy on your waist, tugging your hips closer. You smile into the kiss, letting Yunho’s hands explore your body like he’s done many times before. You slide your hands lower, palming over the obvious bulge in his slacks.

“Fuck, I need you now.” Yunho turns you around, moving you to bend over his desk. He unceremoniously tugs your pants down your thighs, groaning as he eyes the lace trimming of your panties. Yunho shoved your panties to the side, letting his leaking cock bump against your clit. You jolt against his desk, clawing at the wood. Yunho leans against your back, taking your hands in his. The ring on his finger catches against your matching one.

“Gonna be good for me, honey? Be a good girl for daddy, huh?”

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you. 

Part 9 of 12

Synopsis: lies, junk, and ebay side hustles

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

masterlist

—

The Twinkie’s engine hummed as they drove, the soft rumble steady in the quiet night. Y/N leaned against the window, watching as streetlights cast fleeting shadows across her face, leaving brief glints on her tired eyes. John B’s hands gripped the wheel, knuckles pale in the dim light as he guided them down familiar roads. 

This had been one of the longest - but one of the best nights of Y/N’s life. After the initial shock of finding out each other’s secret wore off, John B volunteered to drive Y/N home, much to Rafe’s dismay. 

They had both grown up on these roads, weaving through the same streets, crashing at each other’s houses, and finding trouble together. Now, things felt… different. As if, somehow, the ground they had always trusted beneath them was shifting. Their silence was comfortable but weighted, as if both of them were holding onto thoughts too heavy to put into words.

After a while, John B finally broke the silence, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “So… I guess we’re practically in-laws now.”

She let out a small laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “Guess so. Funny, isn’t it?”

John B smirked but grew thoughtful, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “I mean, I get how I ended up with Sarah, but… you and Rafe? When did that even happen?”

She felt a slight warmth creep up her face. “Uh… tonight, actually.” She paused, swallowing. “We kissed for the first time. I think the word for it is ‘unexpected.’”

He shot her a sidelong glance, eyebrows raised. “You’re kidding me. Tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.” She gave a half-shrug, avoiding his gaze. “It's kind of… I don’t know, it just happened.”

John B let out a slow breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You kissed Rafe Cameron tonight… wow.” He let that sink in, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the wheel. “Guess we’re both out here crossing some major lines.”

Y/N gave a slight nod, feeling the truth of that for herself, too. Sarah Cameron and Rafe Cameron—these were people they’d known their entire lives, kids who had grown up with a silver spoon and never seemed to notice the Pogues except to look down on them. And yet, here they were, tangled in the lives of the Kooks they’d once considered untouchable.

“How did that even happen?” she asked quietly, her gaze still on the passing trees.

John B rubbed a hand over his jaw, considering. “It’s… complicated. It was one of those things that just kinda… snuck up on me. I was working on Ward’s boat one day. He needed help with something in the engine room, and when I came up, Sarah was there. She was sitting by the dock, crying. She’d just broken up with Topper.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, though she wasn’t entirely surprised. “Yeah, he’s… something, isn’t he?”

John B chuckled dryly. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. Anyway, she looked… different. Vulnerable, I guess. Not like her usual ‘Kook princess’ self. We just started talking, and I don’t know… the lines got blurry. I wanted to hate her, but it’s hard to hate someone when you’re actually seeing them. You know what I mean?”

She did. She understood that completely.

“Yeah,” Y/N murmured, tracing her finger along the edge of the window. “Rafe… I never thought I’d be able to trust someone like him. I mean, it’s Rafe Cameron. But tonight, something just… clicked. And I realized I wanted to be around him. It’s strange, but being with him, even just for a night… it made me forget about a lot of things.”

“Like JJ?” John B’s voice was quiet, understanding. Y/N felt her heart constrict at the name, the weight of years of friendship and unspoken feelings pressing down on her all at once.

“Yeah,” she whispered, almost to herself. “I’ve been in love with him for so long. And it’s like... it’s been this constant thing in the back of my mind, like this background noise that I got used to. But tonight, with Rafe… it was like the noise stopped. For once, I wasn’t thinking about JJ. I was just... there, in the moment.”

John B let out a slow breath, nodding. “It’s kind of terrifying, isn’t it? Letting someone in like that. I know how much you cared about JJ. Honestly… I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you guys. I’ve known you my whole life. You and JJ are the only people who… get me. And now I’m dating Sarah, and you’re with Rafe… it’s almost like we’re betraying something.”

Y/N looked over at him, their eyes meeting for a long moment. “Yeah, it feels like that. It’s not just about us—it’s about all of us. Our whole group, the way we’ve always been there for each other. I keep thinking about what JJ would say if he knew.”

John B’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He’d be pissed, that’s for sure. Hurt, too. But… maybe he’d understand eventually.”

“I don’t know, John B. He’s stubborn. And this would feel like a double blow. We’re his oldest friends, and… he’d feel like we’ve crossed a line. Especially me, with Rafe of all people.” She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “I can’t imagine losing JJ because of this.”

The silence fell again, heavy with memories and old loyalties. Finally, John B glanced over at her, his voice a little softer, a little more vulnerable. “Then let’s keep it between us. We don’t have to tell anyone. I mean… if things get serious or whatever, we’ll figure it out then. But for now… let’s just keep this between us. I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”

Y/N smiled, the weight lifting just slightly. “Deal.”

“Good,” he replied, a flicker of relief in his eyes. He offered her a small grin. “Guess we’ll be each other’s partners in crime, sneaking around with the Kooks. Never thought we’d end up here.”

She laughed softly, nodding. “Life has a weird way of throwing curveballs.”

As the Twinkie carried them back down the familiar roads, Y/N felt a sense of calm settle over her. They had their pact now, an unspoken agreement to protect each other and their secrets. 

—

The salty breeze tugged at Y/N’s hair as she made her way down the familiar path to The Chateau. It had been a week since she last saw the Pogues, and her absence hadn’t been unnoticed. She’d spent the days since the chaos at Tannyhill trying to process everything. The kiss with Rafe felt like a whirlwind, and now she had to face her friends, especially JJ, who she knew would be the hardest. Her stomach was in knots as she approached the hangout, trying to steady her nerves.

John B had said he’d smooth things over, but Y/N wasn’t so sure. Not when it came to JJ.

When she entered, the usual hum of conversation was absent. The Pogues were gathered around the table, but it felt… off. Pope and Kie were sitting together, but their smiles seemed forced as they looked up at her. The only one who wasn’t pretending was JJ, standing by the window, his back to the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t even look her way as she stepped inside.

Y/N hesitated in the doorway, her gaze flicking between Kie, Pope, and John B, who was leaning casually against the counter. “Hey,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Kie’s face lit up, though there was an obvious undercurrent of confusion. “Look who’s back! You good? Where’ve you been?”

Y/N winced at the warmth in Kie’s voice—so different from JJ’s cold silence. “Yeah, just needed some space,” she replied, not wanting to dive into details.

Pope nodded but didn’t press further. “Everyone’s been asking about you,” he said. “Glad to see you finally made it out.”

John B gave a small grin, trying to ease the awkwardness. “Yeah, we were starting to think you’d forgotten how to find us.”

Y/N gave him a small, forced laugh, but her eyes were drawn back to JJ, who still hadn’t turned around. The tension was palpable, and it felt like the air itself was thickening with each passing second.

She tried to take a step forward, but JJ’s voice cut through the room like a knife. “So, nice of you to join us,” he muttered, his tone sharp. “Thought maybe you’d decided we weren’t worth your time anymore.”

Y/N flinched. She hadn’t expected the bite in his words, not after everything they’d been through. She knew he was hurt, but hearing it from him like this felt like a slap.

JJ finally turned to face her, his face hard. “You know, I was worried sick after that voicemail,” he continued, his voice rising slightly. “You didn’t answer my texts, didn’t pick up the phone. What the hell, Y/N? You left me hanging.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She hadn’t expected this level of anger, but hearing him say that struck a chord. She swallowed, trying to steady herself. “You could’ve picked up the phone the first time I called,” she shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had actually been there when I needed you.”

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and raw. JJ’s eyes widened, surprised by her retort, but there was no denying the hurt that flashed across his face. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?” he said, voice low and simmering. “You think it’s that simple?”

Y/N’s chest tightened. “No, I don’t think it’s simple,” she snapped back, her frustration mounting. “But I tried reaching out, JJ. You’ve been so caught up with everything else, and I—” She broke off, running a hand through her hair. “I needed space. That’s it. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you didn’t matter.”

JJ shook his head, clearly struggling to contain his frustration. “You can’t just disappear like that without telling anyone what’s going on. I thought something happened to you. I was out of my mind, Y/N.”

She softened slightly at the vulnerability in his tone, but her anger still simmered. “I didn’t want to worry you,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “I just needed time to figure things out.”

JJ exhaled sharply, clearly still hurt but now holding back, as if deciding whether to continue his outburst. Finally, he muttered, “Fine. Just… next time, don’t leave me in the dark. I don’t do well with that.”

Y/N nodded, her throat tight as she met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. That’s the last thing I want.”

There was a long, heavy silence before JJ, with a frustrated sigh, finally gave a small, resigned shrug. “Alright, fine. Just don’t do that again, okay?”

John B, sensing the moment was still tense, stepped in with a lighthearted tone, trying to ease the mood. “Alright, enough of the drama. We’ve got a Pogue reunion here, right?” He glanced at Y/N with a small, reassuring smile. “Let’s just have a good night, yeah?”

Y/N gave him a tight smile, but her gaze lingered on JJ for a moment longer. There was still a distance between them, an unspoken tension that neither of them could ignore. But at least, for now, they were talking again. She only hoped the cracks in their friendship wouldn’t be too hard to fix.

—

A few days had passed since the tense moment with JJ, and things seemed to go back to normal, or at least, as normal as things could get in the Outer Banks. Y/N still spent most of her free time with Rafe, sneaking in moments together whenever they could. It felt like a secret they were both carefully tending, and despite the weight of keeping it under wraps, there was an unspoken comfort in it. She had no intention of telling the group just yet, but she wasn’t pretending things were the same with JJ either. There was distance now, but it was the kind of space that made it easier to breathe. And while Y/N still felt a little uncertain about what it meant for her friendship with the Pogues, she couldn’t help but feel lighter every time she was around them.

People noticed when she disappeared. Pope raised an eyebrow at her a couple of times, Kiara playfully asked if she was meeting some "mysterious boy," and JJ, though distant, was clearly still keeping an eye on her. But no one questioned it further. No one needed to know.

That afternoon, Y/N found herself back at the Chateau, where the gang had regrouped after a few days of avoiding serious conversations. The group was loud, as usual—Kiara pulling out an old map, Pope half-heartedly objecting to some of their more ridiculous ideas, and JJ getting a little too enthusiastic about a new "adventure" they could take. This time, it was JJ’s turn to suggest something chaotic.

“I’ve got it,” JJ said dramatically, eyes lighting up. “We go to the junkyard.”

Y/N shot him a raised eyebrow. “The junkyard? Really?”

“It’s perfect,” JJ continued, ignoring the questioning looks. “We could find treasure, make some plans for the summer, do something that actually makes us feel alive for once. Plus, there’s always weird stuff there—old cars, random bits of metal, who knows what we might find?”

Kiara perked up at the mention of treasure. “Could be a gold mine,” she added with a grin. “Or at least we can see if there’s any cool, rusty junk we can turn into art.”

Pope, who had been staring into the distance, suddenly broke into a mock frown. “The junkyard? Really? You guys are seriously trying to drag me into a place filled with piles of trash?”

JJ grinned, always ready to egg Pope on. “Come on, Pope. You can pretend to be the sophisticated one all you want, but deep down you know you want to get your hands dirty with the rest of us.”

Y/N laughed, leaning back on the couch. It was a sound she hadn’t realized she’d missed—her group, teasing and laughing with no tension. It felt like old times, before everything got complicated. Before she started feeling like she was on the outside of the group, watching as JJ and Kiara danced around each other and trying to figure out what her feelings for Rafe meant.

“I’m in,” Y/N said, sitting up and giving them a small grin. “Let’s go find some treasure.”

Pope, still grumbling, threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not getting stuck in any piles of scrap metal. I’m too smart for that.”

“Just remember that when I find something amazing, you’ll be the first to carry it for me,” JJ teased, already standing up and grabbing his jacket.

At that moment, John B, who had been lounging on the couch with a cup in hand, suddenly perked up. “Did someone say junkyard?” he asked, eyes wide with mock excitement. “That sounds like the kind of adventure I can get behind.”

Y/N shot him a grin. “You planning on driving us there, Captain?”

“Obviously.” John B tossed the cup aside, jumping to his feet. “The van’s ready. And if I’m driving, we’re making this a proper expedition. No half-assed treasure hunts on my watch.”

Kiara rolled her eyes but smiled at the enthusiasm. “Fine, fine. Let’s go then.”

The gang piled into the old, beat-up twinkie, heading off toward the junkyard. As they approached the site, the familiar scent of rust and oil filled the air. The place looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie, with broken-down cars, shattered glass, and twisted metal strewn across the dirt lot. The kind of place where nothing was useful, but everything had the potential for some kind of adventure.

“Alright,” JJ said, standing dramatically in front of the group, “let’s make this a scavenger hunt. First person to find the weirdest thing gets to claim the prize.”

“Prize?” Kiara asked, skeptically. “What, are we going to sell the trash we find?”

“Exactly,” JJ grinned. “Who says junk can’t be worth something?”

Pope rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a smirk. “This is ridiculous. But I’m game.”

Y/N watched John B, who was already surveying the junkyard with a mischievous grin. He had that familiar glint in his eyes—the same spark he always got when he was looking for trouble, and he wasn’t about to let JJ have all the fun. “Fine,” John B said, “but I’m getting the prize first.”

“You wish,” JJ shot back, already moving toward a stack of old tires. “I’m gonna find something epic.”

As they began to spread out, Y/N couldn’t help but feel lighter. She wasn’t thinking about JJ’s stupid pity kiss, or the constant tension that hung between them. She wasn’t worried about Rafe’s feelings either—he was the secret she didn’t have to explain, and she was content with that. For once, she was just part of the group again, her old self. The Pogue she used to be.

JJ sprinted toward an old car, shouting out, “I call dibs on this beauty!” and began rifling through the trunk, already making an absurd amount of noise. Kiara, Pope, and Y/N followed suit, though their finds were much more practical. Y/N pulled out a few rusted tools, giggling when Pope made a face at the mess she was digging through.

“You sure this is the best we’ve got?” Pope asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm but a hint of amusement.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said with a playful grin. “What’s your definition of treasure, Pope? Something shiny?”

“Exactly,” he said, half-smiling. “I’m all for finding treasure, but not garbage.”

“We’ll see about that,” Kiara called out from behind a pile of tires, already holding up a set of old neon lights she thought could be used for their next bonfire. “This could make a perfect addition to our party setup!”

Y/N watched as Kiara took charge of their little scavenger hunt, leading them through the junkyard with a sense of excitement that made the whole thing feel a little more like a real adventure. Pope was actually getting into it now, his competitive spirit taking over as he tried to beat JJ to whatever “treasure” he could find. JJ, of course, was already in his own world, imagining the junkyard as some sort of personal playground, where every broken thing was just a stepping stone to a bigger, better idea.

John B wandered off toward the far side of the yard, his eyes scanning the piles of junk for anything that might catch his eye. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how natural it felt, watching the group fall into their old rhythm.

As they explored, laughing and tossing things aside, Y/N realized that it wasn’t just the junkyard that felt like home—it was this. It was being with these people. No matter how chaotic things got, no matter how much she didn’t know what she was doing with her own life, these were the people who always had her back

The sun blazes overhead as Y/N steps into the junkyard, eyes wide with excitement.

“This place is awesome!” Y/N exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes. “It’s like a treasure hunt, but better because it’s all free!”

Kiara chuckles beside her. “I mean, it’s not the best place for treasures, but yeah, you could find something cool.” She swats a crow feather out of her face. 

John B, already leading the way, turns back with a grin. “Follow me, I know where the good stuff is.”

Y/N follows, practically bouncing with curiosity. “Okay, okay. Let’s see what’s in there.”

Pope, trailing behind, lets out a dramatic sigh. “Good stuff? In a junkyard? This is like a museum... for garbage.”

Y/N laughs, waving at a pile of old scrap metal. “Hey, you’d be surprised. There’s probably something worth a lot here, Pope. You never know!”

They reach the shed, and John B immediately tries to open the door. He pulls, pushes, and gives it a shoulder check, but it’s locked.

“Uh, guys,” John B mutters, frowning. “It’s locked.”

“Duh,” Pope replies, unimpressed. “It’s a shed. Who’s surprised?”

John B shrugs. “Well, this shed’s too interesting to leave alone. JJ, grab the crowbar. We’re getting in.”

JJ jumps into action, grinning. “This is gonna be fun.”

Pope looks around nervously. “This is a terrible idea. We’re gonna get caught.”

“Relax,” John B says, already walking back to make room for JJ. “It's fine. We’ll just—”

JJ pulls out the crowbar and gives it a couple of solid swings against the shed’s door. The sound of metal against metal echoes across the junkyard. On the third swing, the door creaks open with a groan, revealing the dark interior.

“Here we go!” JJ says, his grin widening. He steps into the shed like he just found buried treasure.

Y/N steps forward, eyes lighting up. “Okay, okay. Let’s see what’s in here.”

But as the group floods into the dimly lit shed, their excitement quickly fades. The place is stacked with nothing but junk—old furniture, broken tools, and boxes of random stuff, nothing of any real value. The walls are lined with old tires, discarded appliances, and garbage bags.

“What the hell?” Y/N says, her voice deflating. “This is... this is just junk.”

“I told you,” Pope mutters under his breath, crossing his arms. “Who in their right mind would call this ‘good stuff’?”

John B shrugs, undeterred. “Hey, sometimes the best finds are hidden under a pile of garbage.”

JJ pulls a dusty old television out of a box and wipes it off. “Look, I found this! I mean, it’s not working, but who wouldn’t want a retro TV in their house, right?”

Pope raises an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, because that’s totally what I want—vintage junk.”

And then, the door slams shut.

Y/N spins around, eyes wide. “Uh, guys? The door just closed.”

Kiara, who’s looking around the room with increasing unease, says, “No way. We’re locked in? Are you kidding me?”

John B goes to grab the handle, but it’s stuck. “Great. Of course, the door’s stuck now.”

JJ, still casually rummaging through junk, stops and looks up. “Wait, seriously? We’re locked in?”

“Yeah, JJ!” Y/N says, her voice rising with a mix of panic and amusement. “We’re locked in. Look at this place. There’s no way out.”

Pope starts pacing, his calm demeanor cracking. “This is not happening. We’re literally locked in a shed in a junkyard.”

Kiara looks around, her eyes darting from one junk pile to the next. “Well, at least it’s not a stranger’s shed. I guess we could just chill... but, uh... still... someone has to come looking for us, right?”

Y/N starts laughing, despite the situation. “I mean, yeah. Worst case, we just start a new life in the junkyard. It's practically our new home now.”

JJ throws his hands up. “Yeah! We’ll live off moldy pizza boxes and tire swings. Total dream life!”

John B glares at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Guys, seriously, quit joking. We need to get out of here.”

“Right,” Pope mutters, pulling at the door again. “Maybe if we just pull it...”

The group tries everything—pulling, kicking, even trying to knock the door down, but nothing works. After several attempts, the group begins to lose their energy, and the silence hangs heavy for a moment.

“Okay, so we’re stuck in here,” John B says, flopping down onto an old recliner, his voice nonchalant. “This is officially our new hangout spot, I guess.”

Kiara glares at him. “This isn’t funny.”

“No, really,” John B grins, raising an eyebrow. “You guys remember that one time we got stuck in that abandoned house during that storm? Remember how much fun we had?”

Y/N snorts. “Yeah, except that house was less junk-y and more... ghost house.”

“I mean, this place is just as fun, right?” JJ says, flopping down next to her, pulling a rusted license plate out of a box. “We got old stuff. We got... character.” He waves it around like it's some kind of trophy.

“Sure,” Pope grumbles, “if by ‘character’ you mean ‘how many ways can you die while inside a shed full of junk.’”

John B suddenly jumps up. “Wait, I’ve got it. We break out the windows!”

Kiara looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “John B, that’s not a good idea—”

But John B is already going for it. “Just trust me!”

After a few attempts, they finally manage to break the window, with John B leading the charge. The group spills out into the sunlight, everyone covered in dirt and laughing like it’s no big deal.

“Well, that was an adventure,” Y/N says, brushing off her hands with a grin. “I guess we can cross ‘getting locked in a shed’ off our bucket list.”

Kiara punches her lightly on the arm. “Yeah, not on my list, but sure, let's count it.”

Pope straightens up, shaking his head. “That was a mess. But at least it was... interesting.”

John B slings his arm around Y/N's shoulders, laughing. “Another Tuesday with the Pogues. Couldn’t get any better, right?”

—

A/N: Pogues back to business as usual. Don’t worry—Rafe’ll be back next time. Please drop a thought if anything stuck out to you, I love hearing what you all think!

–

Next time: secrets don’t stay hidden for long

—

Taglist: @hockeybabe87 , @idiotussupremus , @certifiedhaters , @oatmealisweird, @sluggmuffin , @maybankslover , @ren-ni, @wh0reforbucknasty , @enjoymyloves , @bilssturns , @dragonslight , @willowpains , @sidney-86

[starkeysbunny]

the cut that always bleeds

pairing - rafe x thorton!reader

summary - when topper throws a party at your house, you hide in your room this time. you couldn't face rafe, you couldn't do it. and when you get too curious, you see him with the source of your breakup. but somehow, the cuts always get bandaged up, and he's right back in your arms.

warnings - cursing, breakups, toxic lowkey, lots of angst yall srry i love angsty shit

i purse my lips, sitting on the balcony outside my room as my eyes wander over the party downstairs. my brother topper was throwing a party, but i opted to stay up here.

topper’s best friend is my ex, rafe. and it was less than desirable for me to see him just a month after we broke up. i had avoided him this long, and i’d like to keep it that way.

my fingers tap against my cheek in boredom as i stare below. i see topper cheering kelce as he does a handstand on the keg. people making out, jumping in the pool.

then, in the very corner of the party—i spot rafe. and he’s with someone. a girl. she turns her head over her shoulder as she laughs obnoxiously at one of his jokes. sofia.

i groan, rolling my eyes. i lean back and watch as he has a smug smile on his face, enjoying her over-the-top reactions to his every move.

we barely broke up three weeks ago. he couldn’t be a little heartbroken?

i feel a tear fall down my cheek and sigh. “fuck.” i mutter under my breath. i quickly wipe the tears and stand from the balcony, going back into my room.

—

rafe cameron

my eyes are on sofia as she laughs, but when she turns slightly, my eyes flick to the girl they really want to see. i look up at the balcony, seeing y/n sitting up there, away from the party.

her eyebrows are furrowed together, that pouty look on her face i grew to love. i notice her wipe her cheek—was she crying? then she gets up, and walks inside. i press my lips together, my eyes remaining on the now closed balcony doors.

“rafe!” i look down at the feeling of sophia’s hand on my arm. she giggles. “what’re you looking at?”

my eyes flick back up to the doors. “nothing.” i mumble. “you know what, i-i’ll be right back.” i brush her off, pushing past her without another word.

i started talking to sophia at the party for one purpose. to make y/n jealous. and i did that. but it didn’t make me feel how i thought it would. i didn’t feel pride, or smug. i felt like an asshole.

i hated seeing her cry. even if we had broken up. and.. it was also my fault. fuck. i’m an idiot.

“yo, where you goin’ man?” topper chuckles, patting my shoulder as i go to head inside.

“uh.. getting another beer.” i make up a lie.

topper furrowed his eyebrows, then seemed to sober up with a single sigh. “man, she doesn’t wanna see you. that’s why she’s up there. leave her be.” topper says, his protective brother voice kicking in.

i roll my eyes. “i-i just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“rafe—“

“no.” i say firmly, looking directly at topper. “i’m gonna make sure she’s okay, alright?” i spit.

topper rolls his eyes. “whatever, bro. but if she asks me to throw you out, i’m throwin’ you out.”

“whatever.” i dismiss, heading inside and up the stairs. a route that was once an instinct.

—

i sat at the edge of my bed, my fingers brushing over the heart locket in my hand. the locket rafe gave me. there was an ‘r’ engraved on the front of the gold piece. and inside, was a small picture of us.

i don’t know why i kept it. maybe some stupid small hope, that we’d get back together. but i knew that wasn’t true. it was more of a damaging thought, than a healing one.

my head looks up as i hear a knock on my door. “topper?” i call out.

there’s silence for a moment, i gently put down the locket, getting up slowly to approach the door.

“n-no.” a muffled voice comes out, and i recognize it right away. “it’s rafe.”

i freeze, unable to move. i don’t know what to do. do i open it, listen to him? do i tell him to fuck off? do i throw him out? do i ignore him?

“look, i-i just… fuck.” i hear him mutter, trying to find the words to say. i knew him so well. too well. i knew what he was thinking. he couldn’t get the words out. he’s not good at expressing how he feels, putting it into words.

i stay silent, giving him the room to speak. i remain unmoving, not making a sound.

“i wanted to check on you.” he breathes out.

i hear the door creak slightly as he leans against it. he sighs, using my silence as room to vent. maybe part of him hoped i wasn’t even in here. maybe talking to my door was.. closure.

“i saw you up here all alone i just.. you should come down. the party is fun..” he huffs a chuckle then. “no, no it’s not. you know i hate that shit. i don’t even know why i came..”

i sigh, feeling tears brim in my eyes the more i listen to his voice. the voice i used to hear in the mornings when i woke up. whether he was here or not, he'd call me, just to say good morning. i take a deep shaken breath as he continues to talk.

"i know you saw sophia and i, alright? b-but, fuck she means nothing y/n. it was fucking stupid, i just wanted to make you jealous. i-i don't know why, because i'm the one who fucked up and lost you in the first place."

i take a seat on the edge of my bed, feeling tears fall down my cheeks as my hand covers my mouth to hide any sobs. it was his fault.

a month before we broke up, he lost his dad. and i tried to be there for him, but he'd push me away. i was understanding, because he was grieving. then, one day i was at the country club and i saw him venting to sophia.

she was working the bar, serving him and other customers drinks. and he was expressing his feelings to her about his dad. when i was there, coming to tannyhill to make sure he was okay, and he'd tell me to go away. and here he was, pouring his feelings out to the girl at the bar.

"i'm sorry, i just, i kept pushing you away because i didn't want you to see me like that." he admits.

at this, i stand up, going to the door and opening it. he almost falls over, staggering over his feet as he was leaning against the door. i press my lips together to try not to laugh as he stands back up, brushsing his hands over his shirt.

"you didn't want me to see you like that, but you didn't care if she did?" i say, my voice breaking.

"yeah, cause she's a fuckin' stranger. she wasn't my girl, who i value so fuckin' much." he sighs, his head dipping down slightly to meet my eyeline. "i-i know it doesn't make any sense. i should want to open up to you, but i just didn't want you to think any less of me."

his dad raised him to think men didn't cry, men weren't weak, instilling the phrase 'man up' deep into his vocabulary. so, i understand why he had those reservations to open up. but, it's the fact that he went to her, of all people. and she stood at the bar, nursing his whiskey while her hand gently rubbed his arm and she looked at him with bambi eyes.

it hurt.

i sniffle, tears falling down my cheeks. "why her though? what about her was so much more comforting and trusting than your own fucking girlfriend, rafe!" my voices raises slightly in pain, and i take a deep breath, turning so my back was facing him.

"baby—"

"don't." i snap, turning back to him. "don't call me that, don't do that."

he sighs in frustration, his hand coming up to his head and clenching in and out of a fist.

i sigh, rolling my eyes. "what'd you come up here to say, what do you want?"

his eyes soften and he pauses, looking over my features. "to—to i don't know, i was worried. i saw you up here i-i couldn't just—“

"rafe, you don't get to be worried." i sigh, turning around and going to sit on my bed.

he runs a hand over his hair, his jaw clenching. "i'm sorry, okay? i-i don't care about her, alright? everytime i look at her, i just wish she was you."

i scoff. "wow, that's music to my ears." i say sarcastically.

he rolls his eyes. "alright, c'mon, you know i'm not good at this shit."

"no, please continue telling me how you are with someone else but think about me while you fuck her."

he groans. "y/n, that's not what i fucking said! that's not what i meant, at all! you know that!"

i roll my eyes, throwing my arms up at my sides. i stand from the bed. "you think that makes me feel good?" i scoff. "hearing you say you regret everything and that she means nothing? that you look at her and think of me? you think that makes me forgive you?"

"no, no of course not--"

"why couldn't you just come to me?" i ask, my voice breaking. "i tell you everything, because i trust you. you know everything about me. and you couldn't open up to me about your grief? but you could open up to someone you don't even know?" tears slip down my cheeks as my eyebrows furrow. i look up at him confused, just trying to understand.

"i-i don't know. it was fucking stupid alright? i guess i-i was just embarassed. i wanted to be strong for you, and i wasn't." he sighs, his voice breaks the slightest bit. "look, i-i can't fuckin' be without you, alright. this has been the worst month of my life, baby. please. even if it kills me, i need you. even if it kills you. i can't breathe without you."

i hiccup through tears, my eyes not leaving his at his confession. my breathing slows. i notice his eyes tear up, something i've never seen from him before. i study his eyes as they water. searching for lies, for manipulation, but it wasn't there. he doesn't lie to me, he never does. even though he makes shitty choices, even though he is so bad for me, he's never once lied to me.

"i can't let you go. even if i should. i know i'm a shitty boyfriend, alright? but, i-i'm tryin' okay? i'm fucking trying. i know i don't deserve you. i know i should let you go, but i can't. no one can care about you like i do. even if they're better for you, they'll never care and protect you like i do."

i take a deep, shaken breath. it was true. how could we be so bad for each other, but not want anyone else? i say i hate him, but it's not true. how can you hate and love someone at the same time? it hurts, but it hurts so good.

"rafe.." i sniffle, my voice cracking.

"don't cry, please. i hate seein' you cry." he steps closer to me till he's right in front of me. and he does what i least expected. he gets on his knees right in front of me. his hands find their home on my hips as he clings to me like a vice. "please." he whispers. "i promise, i'll try to be better. i-i'll talk to you. i do trust you, okay? i was just scared."

a sob escapes my lips as i look down at him, my hand naturally coming to the back of his neck. no matter what, we always came back. every time. our wounds were ripped open over and over again by each other. then every single time, a few weeks later, we'd come back and kiss them better.

my hand moves from the back of his neck to his cheek, my thumb moving against the skin gingerly. "okay." i whisper through tears.

and once again, we bandaged up the cut that always bleeds.

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[acesofspadess]

my birthday boy

apart of the AG5 universe

spending Lando's birthday at the MTC didn't stop Ace

warnings: heart-melting fluff, PDA, public-speaking (gross)

November 13

The weeks leading up to this day were definitely ones to forget. No one mentioned Brazil in the cosy apartment the papaya duo walked back into a few days later. Brazil was a shit-show, and they didn’t need to bring it all back up. Ace worked relentlessly to keep Lando away from the media, and al the negativity people felt the need to share. Ace didn;t care about what they said about her, this was Lando, her Lando, and she would do just about anything for him.

Monaco wasn’t big, but she did have to travel to the other end of the principality to visit her maman. She hadn’t seen her in weeks and needed some motherly time. She was slightly worried about leaving Lando, but she made sure Max started streaming again to keep him occupied. Lando was an adult, he lived by himself up until a year ago, and even though she knew what he was like before, she had faith he would still be okay… right?

“How’s your perri perri chicken from March pal?”

Wrong. She was glad she was watching the stream. She listened to him try and justify not using food before the best use date and she just shook her head. Why did she even let him keep that?

The next morning, she and her maman went grocery shopping for their house and when she got home and Lando saw her with bags he knew he was in trouble. 

“It is not a recommendation!” 

They hadn’t been home in three weeks, it was mildly understandable, but March? That was entirely Lando’s doing and she knew if he liked it, it would stay there. After a few more days of relaxing, streaming, and making Lando eat properly, they had to fly to the MTC. 

Now Ace loved birthdays, even if Lando didn;t want to celebrate, Ace would make him. So she made a few arrangements and after all the seriousness of the day had passed,and Ace and Lando were getting ready to 'leave’ and walking down the boulevard, a chorus of ‘happy birthday’ was being sung and Lando flipped his head to Aces who already had her phone up. 

He let go of her hand to hide his very smiley face as he walked a little ahead of her. The cake had a picture of his best moments over the top of it and a 2 and 5 candle on the top middle. “Alright make a wish.” Ace called from behind her phone. He closed his eyes and paused before blowing out the candle, making everyone applaud and cheer.

“You’ll hate me for this but…” she said and Lando tried to cover her mouth but she got her words out quickly,” …you have to make a speech.” Ace egged on and he side eyed her making those who saw him laugh. “If I'm being forced to…” He looked at her again. “I just want to say thank you for an incredible year, there've been some ups and downs but we’ve gotten through them and I wouldn’t want to do it with any other people by my side. Thank you all and here's to many more papaya birthdays.” He said with hands pressed together and bowing and thanking everyone around him.

He turned to Ace and hugged her waist tightly, making her almost drop her phone. “I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you too, mon cœur,” she giggled, kissing him softly.

“Come on,” she said, tugging his hand, making him look confused. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

He chuckled before shaking his head. “How could I ever?”

Ace’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she led him out of the MTC. The gleam of polished floors reflected the overhead lights, and the soft hum of engineers wrapping up their day added to the atmosphere. Lando walked in step with her, fingers intertwined, his curiosity piqued.

“Where are we going?” Lando’s voice had that familiar playful lilt that always made her smile.

“You’ll see,” she replied, glancing back with a grin.

The crisp autumn air greeted them as they stepped outside. Ace glanced at the silver sky slowly turning shades of lavender and gold as the sun set behind the rolling fields.

“Baby, what—” he began, but she just squeezed his hand and guided him towards the passenger side.

“Trust me,” she said, opening the door for him. Lando slid into the seat with a mixture of excitement and puzzlement.

Once they were both settled, Ace revved the engine, the sound of power humming beneath them as they took off down the winding country roads. Lando watched the scenery blur by, the anticipation building in his chest.

“Okay, you’ve got to give me a hint,” he finally said, turning to look at her.

“Nope,” she said, popping the “p”. “You’re just going to have to be patient, Mr. Norris.”

“Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he joked, letting out a playful sigh.

“I know,” Ace teased, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“If you say so,” he said, pretending to pout. Ace laughed, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze.

After a few more minutes of playful banter and teasing guesses, Ace pulled into a small, cosy restaurant nestled at the edge of town. The warm glow from the windows and the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air as they stepped inside.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered as the host guided them to a table by the window, candles flickering gently.

Lando’s eyes softened. “This is perfect,” he said, reaching for her hand across the table.

“You deserve a night that’s all about you,” Ace said, her voice warm. “No engines, no track, just us.”

“And good food,” Lando added with a wink.

Their meals arrived, and soon enough, laughter and stories filled the space between them. Ace recounted a memory from one of their first races together.

“And then you said, ‘It’s just a little rain, Ace!’” she mimicked his voice, eyes bright with amusement.

Lando groaned, laughing. “I remember! I thought you were going to throw your helmet at me.”

“I almost did,” she said, leaning forward, her smile softening as she looked at him. “But you’re worth a little chaos.”

“A little?” Lando raised his eyebrows. “Try a lot. You’re competitive, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Ace said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “And don’t you forget it.”

They ate slowly, savouring each dish. Lando took a bite of his dessert, eyes lighting up. “This is so good,” he said, gesturing with his spoon. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Only the best for you,” Ace replied, her voice a tender melody.

“You spoil me,” he said, pretending to scold her.

“Not nearly enough,” she countered, smirking.

After dinner, they made their way back to their shared apartment. The soft light of the living room lamps illuminated the space, casting a cozy glow over the photos and mementos that marked their journey together. Lando slipped off his shoes, stretching out with a contented sigh. Before he could say anything, Ace stood in front of him, holding a small, wrapped box.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Open it,” she encouraged, crossing her arms and watching his expression closely.

Lando tore at the paper, revealing a set of sleek keys with a familiar horse- a Ferrari key. His mouth dropped open, and he looked up at Ace, disbelief mingling with sheer joy.

“No way,” he breathed. “Ace, you didn’t—”

“I did,” she said highly pitched in excitment. “I know how much you’ve been dreaming about it. Consider it a thank-you for every smile, every kiss, every moment.”

Lando surged forward, merging his lips with her own. “You’re incredible,” he whispered into her hair, voice thick with emotion. “This is... more than I could ever ask for.”

“You deserve it,” she said softly, brushing her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. They stayed like that for a moment, the quiet of their home holding the weight of their love.

“I can’t wait to go home now. Drive around for hours.” Lando finally said, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Of course you can’t,” Ace said, laughter bubbling up. “We’ll make a whole day of it.”

“Deal,” Lando said, his voice softening. “But first, can we just stay like this a little longer?”

“For as long as you want,” she replied, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Best birthday ever,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple, as their world, for tonight, felt beautifully complete.

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acegiovanelli my birthday boy

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landonorris love you baby ❤️... not to sure i love all these photos😐

acegiovanelli but they're my favourite

landonorris these are the best photos in the world ❤️

fan4 i love them so much 😭

fan7 happy birthday lando!

carlossainz55 happy birthday cabrón!

maxverstappen1 Happy birthday mate!

fan8 the world is healing

[harrywavycurly]

Hey I loved the bachelorette party in Malibu for Lonley series but can u do one where Harry has a bachelor party and yn stuck at home please I’m obbsed 😂💕

Hiii lovey!!! I’m glad you enjoy the series!!! I hope you like this, it was fun to write because the difference in how the two of them handle time away from each other is very funny😂💖

Find all things Lonely series here✨

CW: Language and mentions of drinking

Tag List: @blckburd @fangirl509east @ell0ra-br3kk3r @youngpastafanmug @mattieshattuck1

A/N: Harry is away for his bachelor party weekend while you’re at home and you get a surprise visitor, enjoy drunk Harry as well as some classic bestie banter✨

You let out a sigh of content as you get comfortable on the couch before bringing your coffee mug up to your lips so you can take a sip, the house is quiet minus the gentle humming sound of the ice maker in the kitchen and the air conditioning that kicks on every now and then and you can’t help but sit there and enjoy the peacefulness of the quiet, at least while you can. You look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen and know that Harry should be landing in Vegas soon, Gemma having booked a morning flight so she could get in a few hours at the spa and a well timed nap before the nighttime festivities begin, most of which you have no idea about minus one little detail but that’s only because she drunkenly let it slip during your bachelorette trip a month ago.

You smile at the thought of Harry being surprised with a spa day, something you know he enjoys and will help him relax and the more relaxed he gets the more fun he will have as the evening goes on. That’s the thing with this weekend, you truly want Harry to have fun because he’s been spending way too much time fussing over you and the upcoming wedding recently that a night out without anything or anyone to worry about is what he deserves. And even though you had to practically drag him down the front steps to the car that was taking him to the airport this morning because he was “gonna miss you too much” and almost bought you a ticket on the spot to join him in Vegas, you know he’s going to end up having a good time.

You take another sip of your coffee when suddenly you hear a light beeping sound signaling to you that your front gate has been opened. You raise an eyebrow as you quickly lean over and place your mug on the coffee table before standing up and heading towards the kitchen so you can look at the fancy little tablet that shows all the security cameras, something Harry made sure to show you how to use before he left since this is technically your first time alone overnight in the house since moving in together. You mentally prepare yourself to see the same black SUV you watched him leave in this morning pulling into the driveway, but when you look at the screen you scrunch your brows together and bring the tablet closer to your face to get a better look at the car.

“What the-”

“Your fuckin’ gate hates me.” You look up from the tablet in your hands as Niall walks through your front door with a duffle bag. “I type in the code it gets all mad and beeps at me so then I type it in again and then it flashes red at me. So then I do it a third-why the bloody hell you got that thing so close to your face? You going blind or somethin?” He stops in the doorway of the kitchen with a slight look of concern on his face as his eyes land on you standing in the middle of the kitchen still holding the tablet a few inches from your face trying to see if that really is Niall’s car in your driveway or not.

“What are you doing here?” You watch him roll his eyes as he walks through the kitchen and into the living room where he drops his duffle bag down behind the couch.

“I live here.” Is all he says as he heads back into the kitchen and grabs himself a mug before going to the coffee pot. You just place the tablet back down onto the counter as you watch Niall make his way around the kitchen while making his coffee.

“Does my fiancé know that?” You ask with a hint of playfulness because you know Harry would have a field day if he heard Niall tell you he lived here, having reached a whole new level of jealousy ever since the two of you got engaged when it comes to your friendship with Niall.

“Oh what that lanky lad doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides it’s just for the weekend because I know he’s gone and you’ve never been alone here before so figured you could use the company.” You know he’s leaving something out as he gives his coffee a good stir before taking a sip of it all while looking everywhere but at you in the process.

“You didn’t get invited did you?” Niall’s face drops as he places his mug on the counter and lets out a sad dramatic sigh making you have to hold back a laugh.

“No.” He says with a groan. “Gem said she didn’t wanna risk Harry not having as good of a time with me there because he might be worried I’d run off and tell you everything but we both know that’s a load of bull because the man is gonna end up drunk off his ass by ten tonight and callin you up and telling on his own fucking self.” You put a hand over your mouth to try to hide your laughter but it’s no use because Niall just rolls his eyes as he grabs his mug and heads towards the living room.

“So you decided coming over here for the weekend was the best alternative?” You question as you follow him into the living room. He just shrugs as he sits down on the couch, placing an arm on the back of it so you can sit next to him and lean into his side for a little cuddle that you know he needs more than you do in this very moment.

“I figured no use in both of us being home alone when we could just be in your house together eating all Harry’s snacks and watching trashy telly.” You smile and you rest your head on Niall’s shoulder as he brings his mug up to his lips. “This coffee is gonna keep me awake for a week you absolute caffeine fiend.” He teases before taking another sip. “Tastes good though.” He mumbles as you reach for the remote so you can turn the tv on allowing the two of you to start your day of watching horrible reality television.

“If she picks him then it proves she’s just after his money because it’s clear she doesn’t even like him she just tolerates him.” You huff as you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance making Niall let out a laugh from the kitchen.

The two of you have spent the day and a good portion of the evening watching some dating show and only have one episode left so Niall decided it was only fitting he make some cocktails to go with watching the finale and honestly having put up with the dramatics of the show and watching the main woman send home people the two of you thought were decent catches has made him need a drink or two. He is in the middle of squeezing a lime into your glass when he hears the sound of something vibrating against the marble of your kitchen counter, he raises an eyebrow when he notices your phone sitting there plugged into a charger near the coffee maker. Now Niall has been your bestfriend for quite a while, so he’s no stranger to checking your phone for you so he doesn’t think twice before he’s drying his hands off and walking over to see who’s messaging you but what he sees on your lock screen makes his eyes go wide.

“You have forty six unread-sorry now it’s forty seven unread texts? What the hell? Oh fuck now it’s fifty.” You let out a sigh as your head falls to the back of the couch while Niall unplugs your phone from the charge and heads into the living room with it in his hand.

“I don’t want to respond because then he’ll keep texting me and I want him to have fun and not be thinking about me.” Niall would agree that in theory your plan would work on anyone else but this is Harry you’re talking about and he knows how obsessed the man is with you and clearly based on the evidence of the amount of texts he’s sent without a single response from you, your plan is in fact not working.

“Right well I think that’s sweet and all that you want him to have fun but looking at these-uh he seems a bit stressed? Like proper freaking out.” You sit up and turn to look at Niall as he begins to read some of the texts Harry has sent and when you watch him roll his eyes you know they are probably a bit on the dramatic side. “Oh he’s totally drunk off his ass and it’s not even half past eleven.” He states as he scrolls down towards the last few messages he sent you.

“What’s he stressed-”

“And now he’s FaceTiming you.” You stand up and walk around the couch and reach for your phone but Niall just gives you a playful smirk and you instantly know what he’s about to do.

“Niall do not answer that.” You warn as you hold your hand out for him to hand you the phone but Niall just ignores you as he heads back into the kitchen and holds the phone up before he answers Harry’s FaceTime call.

“Baby-what the fuck’er you doin in my house?” Harry’s voice is low and a bit rougher than normal and you immediately know he’s working his way towards a nice buzz. “Why do you have my wife’s phone?” Niall rolls his eyes as he places your phone against the sink so he can go back to fixing the two of you some drinks.

“She’s not your wife yet mate and I’m here because that sister of yours didn’t invite me to your little weekend away so I came here to keep my bestfriend company.” You run a hand over your face as you hear Harry let out a groan at Niall’s correction of him calling you his wife.

“You don’t like spa days so you’d’ve hated it so far.” Niall sends Harry a glare as he grabs the bottle of tequila making Harry raise an eyebrow at him when he watches him pour more than a shots worth into each glass. “You tryin’a get her drunk?” He asks as you stand on the other side of the island watching Niall make your drink and making sure Harry can’t see you, at least not yet.

“You’re in the city of sin and all you’ve done is have a bloody spa day? God you’re such an eighty year old nan.” You can’t help but laugh making Niall shoot you a playful wink but that only causes Harry to let out a whine like noise because he can hear you but can’t see you which makes Niall roll his eyes. “I can’t with the sad puppy noises you’ve got to take him.” Niall says as he picks up the phone with one hand and hands it to you but with the screen still facing him. You send him a glare before you stick your tongue out at him making him laugh before he returns the gesture.

“I don’t want to see your tongue Niall-”

“Hi Harry.” You watch Harry’s face go from disgust to pure happiness in a matter of seconds when you turn the phone around allowing him to finally see your face.

“Baby I’m so happy you’re alive.” You just ignore Niall’s laugh as you make your way back into the living room to get comfortable on the couch. “You ignored me all day and s’not nice to ignore someone you love.” His voice is a mixture of playfulness and a bit of sadness as he pokes his bottom lip out in a dramatic pout.

“I wanted you to worry about having fun not about what I’m doing.” You explain as you take a moment to try to get a decent look at him through the screen but the way he has his phone in his hand all you can see is his face and a bit of the collar of his shirt. “Where are you right now?” You ask when you notice red strobe lights in the background, Harry turns his head and looks around as if he’s looking for the name of the establishment on the walls or anywhere near where he’s currently at.

“Uhm m’not sure? S’a bit dark in here but the people are very lovely.” You smile at the blush that appears on his cheeks as his eyes wonder over to something that’s going on in front of him that you can’t see.

“That’s code for the girls are topless and the tits are nice.” Niall whispers in your ear as he leans over the back of the couch to hand you your drink, you just laugh but Harry even in his half drunken state heard Niall’s little joke and sends him a glare through the screen.

“He said people so I’m assuming it’s not just girls in this club.” You explain and Niall just shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Right so the guys are brief-less and the cocks are decent.” You nearly choke on the sip of your drink that’s in your mouth at Niall’s statement making him laugh as he reaches over and rubs your back a bit. “Jesus no wonder you two are getting married. Neither of you can handle your liquor.” He teases before he heads back into the kitchen to give you and Harry a few minutes alone.

“Harry why don’t you go and enjoy yourself? You can call me in the morning if you want?” You don’t want to sound rude but you know if you don’t get him off the phone soon then odds are you’ll be on FaceTime with him for the next few hours or until Gemma notices and takes things into her own hands.

“I took s’mthing of yours to help me get through the weekend without you.” Harry admits quietly as he looks around as if to make sure no one is looking before he reaches into his suit jacket pocket, you feel your whole face get hot when he shows you what he took of yours and you silently thank your lucky stars Niall decided to go back into the kitchen. “They’ve helped so far but still miss you.” He adds as he clutches the item in his hand while staring at you through the phone.

“You are such a freak.” Harry just shrugs one shoulder and gives you a sneaky little smirk as he begins to put the object pack into his pocket.

“Tell me those aren’t your knickers he’s shoving back into this pocket like some sort of sicko.”

“M’not a sicko for having a pair of my fiancé’s-”

“Do not finish that sentence Harry Styles you are in public.” You hear a scoff come from behind you while Harry also makes a similar sounding noise making you send Niall who’s now resting his forearms on the back of the couch next to where you’re sitting, a glare over your shoulder before looking back at your phone to give Harry the same look.

“Babe he’s surrounded by bouncing boobs and swinging pricks you think anyone’s gonna give a rats ass if he’s got some worn out knickers in his sleeve?” You scrunch your nose at Niall’s choice of words regarding your undergarments making Harry chuckle.

“How’d ya know they’re worn? You been in my nightstand you wonky kneed twat?”

“You have a panty stash in your nightstand you lanky fuck?”

“And if I do? S’none of your concern you hobbit sized asshole.”

“Ya know for a family all about treat people with kindness you Styles lot sure love to be mean as fuck to the Irish fella who’s job it is to make sure your beloved future bride makes it down the aisle.”

“The bloody hell s’that ‘posed to mean?” You let out a sigh as you just sit there and let the two of them argue as you normally do, knowing that eventually you’ll have to step in but for right now it hasn’t reached the level of any serious feelings getting hurt. Harry’s eyes are a light shade of red and his cheeks are pink letting you know his drinks are starting to catch up to him.

“It means that you overgrown toddler of a man best start being nicer to me or I might just have her accidentally get lost on the way to the venue or better yet just let her sleep in and be so late you’ll have to cancel the whole thing and reschedule it for next-”

“Okay that’s enough.” You snap when you see Harry’s eyes start to get watery as Niall’s threat starts to sink into Harry’s slightly alcohol clouded mind. “Niall go into the kitchen and make me a snack please.” He just lets out a huff but he does what you say because he can tell by your tone that you’re in no playing mood and besides he is starting to feel a bit hungry himself.

“I don’t want to reschedule.” You feel your heart sink a bit at how sad Harry’s voice is as he looks at you with a frown.

“We aren’t rescheduling anything Harry he’s just being mean that’s all.” You give him a reassuring smile that just makes him nod. “I love you and I want you to go and have fun okay? Do some weird stuff and tell me all about it when you get home or if you don’t want to-”

“M’gonna call you in the morning.” He corrects you and you just smile at his face because you know he’s trying his best to look serious but he’s failing due to the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile. “I love you so so-so fucking much even though you ignored me.” He half mumbles and you can’t help but giggle at how cute he is when he’s drunk and trying so hard to keep it together.

“I love you too.” He gives you a dimpled grin at your response. “Now go have fun or I won’t answer your call tomorrow.” You know it’s probably not nice to threaten him but you figure it’s a good way to get him to actually do what you want and by the way he rolls his eyes and lets out a huff you know it works.

“Fine I’ll go and find m’sister and have fun.” He says with a sigh while you smile and blow him a kiss before saying you love him one more time and ending the call.

“Has he always been so damn needy?” Niall asks as you walk into the kitchen with your drink in your hand. You just shrug as you take a sip while you take a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island so you can watch Niall cook, he decided a proper meal was what the two of you needed not just a lousy snack since there’s still a dating show finale to watch.

“I don’t know but I also don’t mind.” You answer with a smile making Niall quirk a brow at you as he stirs in the cheese sauce for the Mac and cheese. “I’m happy to be the one he needs.” And it’s the truth because while Harry might be overly clingy and a tad bit more needy than he normally was when the two of you were just friends, you love being the one he wants to cling to and feels the urge to be needy with because it shows the shift that’s taken place and how in love with you he actually is.

[alsofoundinpeas]

I Don't Need To Know

Summary: Spencer Reid has no choice but to watch the love of his life fall in love with another man. 

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Major character death. HEAVY angst. Bittersweet ending? Graphic depictions of violence (for maybe two lines). Fingering (f receiving). P in v sex/unprotected sex (in terms of a condom, birth control is mentioned). Loss of virginity (both m and f). Creampie (god I hate that word ugh!!). Slight age gap (roughly five years). Argument scene that may be triggering for readers that have experienced SA or manipulation from a partner (nothing of that nature actually happens, but just in case).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

A/N: This is inspired by Will He by Joji, so I highly recommend listening to it while reading. I cried several times while writing this, but I felt it needed to be done so here it is. :’) Please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :)

I got knots all up in my chest… Just know, I’m trying my best…

Spencer had always found the saying “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” absurd. He couldn’t fathom willingly letting go of something he loved on the off chance that it would come back to him. Not after having everything he’d ever loved ripped from his clutches throughout his lifetime. To him, love wasn’t about releasing someone to see if they’d return. It was about holding on as though his very survival depended on it—like a feral cat finally finding food after days of hunger, sinking its teeth in and never letting go, no matter the cost. 

It wasn’t until today that Spencer finally understood the meaning of that stupid phrase. And he wished with every intricate thread of his being that he didn’t. 

Five years. Five long, agonizing years had passed. So why was he here now? Why, after what felt like an eternity of pleading for just one more moment with her, did the universe decide now was the time to give him what he wanted? 

Ironically, the timing only drove home another phrase he’d always hated: “Be careful what you wish for.” 

There she was, as beautiful as the day he’d met her, sitting in the corner of what had once been their favorite café. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches on her ring, the enticing glinting of the jewelry drawing his eyes away from her face momentarily. His heart is in his throat. She’s still wearing the wedding ring he’d given her, twisting it in the same nervous fashion she always used to. 

And there across from her is a man that isn’t him making her smile. 

‘Cause when you look… When you laugh… When you smile… I’ll bring you back…

Spencer Reid had never been a particularly angry man. He had his moments—who didn’t?—but he usually considered himself level-headed, patient. But now, watching Y/N hide a bashful smile behind the rim of her mug as she gazed at the man across from her, all Spencer could feel was rage. Raw, unbridled rage. It flared up inside him as her head tipped back, the sound of her laughter crashing over him like a tidal wave, stirring his veins with a violent rush. The same sound he’d yearned to hear again for five fucking years. And it was all because of him—Ben. 

That was his girl. His perfect, beautiful girl. The love of his life. His angel. 

All Spencer could do was stand there, feeling every broken shard of his non-existent heart pierce his chest. 

And now I’m sad… And I’m a mess… And now we high… That’s why I left… That’s why I left…

It wasn’t meant to be like this. Spencer had never wanted to leave her. But that choice wasn’t his to make. 

That cold, cruel September night six years ago had robbed Spencer of his very existence. 

Everything that could have gone wrong during that case did. The bullet wasn’t meant for him, but he took it anyway. He had traded his life in exchange for JJ’s. It wasn’t even meant to be heroic. It wasn’t done out of love. It was just instinct. It’s who he was as a person. 

Was. 

The word leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Because that’s his reality now. He was a person; an agent, a professor, a son, a husband…

Now he’s… well, that he didn’t quite understand. As a man of science, Spencer was stumped by what he could even call his existence now. Calling himself a ghost felt silly—he felt as alive as the day he’d died. And yet, that was essentially what he was. A whisper of the person he’d once been. A soul caught between worlds. 

Spencer could still feel the exact moment his soul wrenched free from its physical tether to the world. Even recalling it sent a shiver down his spine. It hadn’t been peaceful, as so many people claimed in interviews. No… it had been agony in its purest form; white hot and searing as his very essence clawed its way out from his ribs. There was no light waiting for him to step into it and find peace.

Instead, he had watched helplessly as the team he called his family swarmed his dead body, uselessly screaming for a medic as the crimson puddle underneath him grew and smeared beneath their hands as they knelt beside him. He had watched Y/N swing open their door that fateful night, the excited grin on her face vanishing as she came face to face with a tearful Emily instead of the husband she’d been eagerly waiting for. And he had watched the guilt eat away at JJ as their eyes met at his funeral, the hatred on Y/N’s face so raw it made Spencer’s own stomach twist. 

Despite the Bureau's insistence, she took charge of every detail—planning his funeral in a way that honored everything Spencer would have wanted. Y/N held Diana as she wept over her baby boy's body. She delivered a eulogy that left even Spencer in shambles. She was the first person to arrive and the last to leave, waiting until everyone had left to sink to her knees beside his casket and howl her grievances. 

For that first year, Y/N was as strong as she could be during the day. She handled everything that needed to be done, as long as the sun was still up. But when night fell, and the suffocating silence of their empty home settled in… that’s when she’d finally let herself break. 

Spencer had never been a religious man, but the year after his death felt like an endless descent into his own personal hell. He would never escape the sound of those gut-wrenching screams. He cursed whatever force had condemned him to an eternity where he could do nothing but watch, powerless as Y/N crumpled to the floor night after night, her wails so desperate it seemed as though she thought breaking the sound barrier might somehow bring him back to life. 

All he could do was stay beside her, silently pleading for his touch to somehow reach her, his hands brushing over her again and again, unnoticed and unfelt. 

Time was no longer a concept to Spencer. 

The limits of his existence perplexed him. He couldn’t roam freely, couldn’t go where he pleased—he could only follow where Y/N went. It was as if his very soul was bound to hers, linked by some invisible string that kept him tied to her even in death. It brought him both joy and sorrow: joy in the fact that he could still watch her, still admire the way she carried on, and sorrow because she would never know he was there, silently urging her forward, so incredibly proud of her strength. 

The longer he lingered, the more control he gained over his abilities. It started with the smallest things—a strand of hair lifting with the brush of his fingers, a faint chill against her skin as he cradled her face while she slept. But soon, it became more. Doors creaked open as he stepped into rooms behind her, and objects shifted ever so slightly from their places when he pushed with just enough force. 

There were times when she seemed to sense him—moments Spencer cherished more than anything. In those fleeting instances, it felt as though she could see him, even though he knew she couldn’t. Every day, rain or shine, she visited his grave, and when she spoke to him, her gaze would drift forward, as if she were looking into the honey-colored eyes she once loved. Her hands would rest open in her lap, as though she knew he was holding them. When she was home, she’d speak aloud every thought that came to mind, as though she knew he could hear every word that fell from her perfect lips. And he always responded as if she could hear him in return. That was their new life for the first year after his death. 

After a year and one day, he was gone. 

That’s where his understanding of the phrase “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” came from. It was because she had set him free. 

One whole year had passed. The hardest year of Y/N’s life. She had knelt by his grave, laying fresh flowers with trembling hands, her tears falling freely for hours. When she finally stood to leave, her legs unsteady beneath her, she pressed a soft kiss to his headstone. Through her tears, she whispered how much she missed him, how he never left her thoughts, and how she’d never stop loving him—but above all, she wished he could be at peace. And on the night following the anniversary of his passing, her wish was granted. He had faded into nothingness, existing only in her dreams and memories for five long years. 

But now, he was back. Because he had always been hers. 

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips? 

Spencer remembered their first time like it was yesterday, though he wasn’t sure if he could thank his eidetic memory or the fact that it was because of how remarkable it had been for the memory lingering so vividly...

“You’re lying! You’ve really never had sex before?” 

Y/N squawked the words incredulously as she sat atop Spencer’s lap, grinning down at the stammering mess of a man beneath her. Spencer’s hands flexed against her hips, unintentionally squeezing as he took a deep breath to calm himself. 

They were inside Spencer’s apartment, having enjoyed the museum and dinner but still craving each other’s company too badly to end the night there. What started as sweet, innocent pecks pressed up against the kitchen counter had quickly devolved into ravenous, passionate kisses that had them stumbling towards the couch. It was going so well… until Spencer panicked after Y/N had whispered into his ear asking how far he wanted things to go. 

That resulted in him spewing out the fact that he, at twenty-six years old, was a virgin.

“No, I haven’t! Why is that so hard to believe?” Spencer huffs, his small smile belying his annoyed tone. 

It was their sixth date total in a span of four months, but it was their first date as an actual couple. Spencer had reluctantly agreed to let Penelope set him up on a blind date after his failed attempt at taking JJ out had shattered any of the confidence he’d built up, leaving the man petrified of taking his chances romantically again. He suspected Penelope’s pity for him was why she was setting up said date to begin with, but he quickly found himself grateful that he went. 

Y/N had been friends with Penelope for years, having bonded online over some indie punk rock band that was no longer around and developing a close friendship from there despite their age difference. When Penelope found out Y/N had moved to Virginia and was single, she couldn’t resist setting the two up. 

It’s Y/N’s turn to stammer as she quickly thinks of a response. “I, uh… you’re just so handsome that I naturally assumed you’d had sex before.” 

Spencer blinks up at her skeptically, trying to detect even the faintest clue that the otherworldly woman in his lap was lying to him. All he found was nervous adoration as she stared back down at him, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. It suited her. He wanted to cause it more often. 

“I had, um… I graduated super early from both high school and college, so I didn’t do much dating.” 

Instead of the judgment Spencer expected to see spread across her face, Y/N simply just hummed in understanding, her eyes curious as they watched him. He’d elaborate more on his unfortunate (for lack of a better term) adolescence later. For now, he just wanted to keep from scaring the poor girl off of his lap so he could taste her sweet chapstick again. 

“I see…” Y/N murmurs before continuing, shifting forward slightly with a smirk. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m also a virgin.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened almost comically as he gawked up at her. His heart stutters in his chest, his mouth going dry. His tongue pokes out in a meek attempt at wetting his lips, his voice cracking as he responds. 

“Et tu, Y/N?” 

Oh fuck. Spencer hadn’t meant to let the lame reference slip from his mouth. She just made him so nervous that he couldn’t think straight, and Rome had been heavily on his mind since she had perched herself in his lap. Specifically Roman goddesses, because she looked like she should be amongst them on their thrones. Surely she was going to leave now—-

Loud, genuine laughter bubbles from Y/N’s lips, the noise startling Spencer as she tips her head back and her hands grip his shoulders to stabilize herself. She thought it was funny. She thought he was funny. 

“That’s, like, the last thing I expected you to say,” Y/N managed once her laughter had simmered down into giggles. “But, to answer your question… I too have really never had sex before.” 

Spencer knew that it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors. The woman was sex personified; the archetype of beauty and seduction wrapped into one perfect being. The twitching in his pants brought his attention back to the situation at hand. He could ask her later why that was. For now, he brought his focus back to her. 

In an uncharacteristically bold move, Spencer tilted his head up to brush their noses together. “Would you… would you want to?” 

It didn’t take a profiler to notice the hitch in her breath or the almost imperceptible squeezing of her thighs around his hips. Her pupils were already blown, her lower lip trembling from what Spencer prayed was anticipation and not regret as his question settled over her. The silence stretched between them, the seconds feeling like hours in Spencer’s overly anxious mind. 

He’d done it now. He’d gone off and opened his stupid mouth and frightened the one woman he could actually see himself having a future with because the head straining against his zipper overruled the head housing his supposed genius level IQ. The apologies were already forming in the back of his throat, but they weren’t needed because she— she was kissing him? 

“God, yes. Please,” Y/N murmured eagerly against his lips, effectively clearing every cohesive thought from his brain. 

If Spencer thought her words were enough to bring upon his undoing, he was sorely mistaken. The grinding of her hips against his erection ignited something inside of him that he had no idea existed. It was feral, drowning out all of his other emotions and replacing them with one thing: primal, unfiltered desire. 

Spencer understood now why men used to start wars over women. 

With each gasp that fell upon his ears, Spencer pledged his allegiance to her. Every stuttered moan that came into existence from his hips rutting up into her clothed core fueled his devotion to her. It was animalistic, the way his hands gripped her ass and pulled her tighter against his body as his mouth devoured her now, every cell swimming through his veins screaming for more. More of her touch, more of her taste, more of her sounds... God, those heavenly sounds that had Spencer finally believing in salvation, if only in the form of her skin against his.  

Tongues danced together as layers were hastily stripped away. Layers of insecurity. Layers of self-doubt. Layers of uncertainty. Their clothes fell to the ground as though the fabric burned them, clumsy hands fidgeting with buttons and tugging at zippers with a vendetta. 

Those layers that had crumbled so easily were replaced instead with the firm knowledge that this was exactly where they were meant to be: in each other’s arms, trembling and panting as their world’s trajectory tilted so violently it uprooted them from their upright position, knocking them down against the leather cushions as their bodies attempted to mend their separated souls back into one. 

Spencer choked on the words he wanted to worship her with, so instead he used the most primitive sense he could to get his message across: touch. His lips sucked purpling reminders into the crook of her neck of what they both knew to be true now: He is hers just as much as she is his. Lithe fingers tugged the soaked fabric of her lace panties down until they landed in a heap with their other clothes. Those same fingers pause at the crest of her most intimate spot, his eyes meeting hers with a silent plea. 

Y/N found herself in the same position, her words failing her as they were strangled in her throat by the overwhelming adoration she felt for the man hovering above her. Instead of chanting her desire for Spencer to please touch her, she canted her hips up in approval. 

Her moans were swallowed by swollen lips that claimed the sound straight from her body as nimble fingers dug themselves into the deepest parts of her. Their rhythm was clumsy but steadfast, her hips bucking against his hand in jerky movements as the palm of his hand pressed against her clit. Spencer’s own hips ground against the bare skin of her thigh, shielded only by the immature fabric of his equation-covered boxers. 

Spencer hadn’t for a second thought the night was going to go like this. If he had known he’d have the definition of art itself clawing at his shoulders and panting into his mouth while he made her legs tremble beneath him, he wouldn’t have worn what he deemed his lucky boxers. At least they had done their job, he supposed. 

Their lips separated completely as a guttural moan wrenched its way from Y/N’s throat, her body beginning to thrash wildly underneath him as the tension in her lower belly coiled tighter. Spencer wouldn’t allow her first time to happen on his couch. She was much too precious for that. But he’d already made the decision to unravel her at least once while they were there, to bring her over the edge before taking her into his bedroom so that he could experience the glorious sight of her falling apart more than once tonight. 

Spencer was a virgin, not a prude. He’d seen porn before. He’d read erotic novels. Anything he could use to try to prepare himself for the real experience, he did. But nothing could have prepared him for the downright visceral reaction Y/N had as his fingers curled and brushed against the rough patch of skin inside of her that caused the tension building in her body to snap. Her cries of pleasure tore through him as her pussy clenched around his fingers, his free hand leaving its place beside her head to keep her thighs pried open. He quickly shifted up onto his knees to watch her taking his fingers as she came, taking the pleasure he inflicted upon her. 

He sang her praises while slowing his pace, cooing softly at her as he stroked her hair and worked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Only when she was squirming and whining beneath him did he finally remove his fingers, sucking them into his mouth greedily. Y/N’s mouth gaped open as her chest heaved, her eyes locked on Spencer as his tongue lapped over his fingers, enjoying her essence with a groan. Her body sagged into the couch, a delighted laugh spilling from her exhausted frame as she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of his living room. 

“Do you still want to keep going?” Spencer breathed as he gazed down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes full of something that made Y/N's heart flutter. “B-because we can stop there if you want. I just… I want to do what makes you happy.” 

Above her was the man she’d recognized, soft and timid, but now with a newfound air of confidence in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Above her was the man that she wanted more than anything. Above her was the man that she knew, without a shadow of doubt, would be her husband. 

“Spencer… if you don’t fuck me right now, then I’ll die a virgin, right here on your couch... and it will be all your fault.” 

Spencer’s hearty chuckles filled the room, his nose twitching as he grinned down at the dramatic woman. He simply couldn’t let that be her fate, could he? 

Shaking his head, he stooped down to press a gentle kiss to her nose before standing from the couch, offering her his (clean) hand. Y/N’s face twisted in confusion as she stared up at him, still reeling from the earth-shattering orgasm surprisingly given to her by the same man who’d eagerly rambled about the lore behind Doctor Who on their first date when she’d mentioned she hadn’t seen it. 

“Not here, silly girl. The bedroom,” He whispered. 

He guided her down the dark hallway as though he were escorting the most priceless treasure known to man to his bed, and in his eyes, he was. His hand stayed steady on her hip as she swayed lightly, her body pressed into his side as he opened the door with shaky hands. Any confidence Spencer had managed to muster throughout the night vanished as they crossed the threshold into his bedroom, his teeth gnawing at his lower lip gently as his courage began to crack. 

In an almost startling display of being seen, something Spencer had never experienced before, Y/N looped her arms around his neck and tugged him into a kiss that simultaneously stole the breath from his lungs and filled him with the air he needed to breathe again, effectively calming his nerves.

“It’s okay,” She reassured him against his lips. “It’s just me.” 

She walked them backward until the backs of her knees pressed into his cool comforter, taking over where Spencer so willingly handed her the reigns while he regained his momentum. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands pressed into his hips to keep him from following after her. Her eyes met his, the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window illuminating her as though she were a vision, a figment of his imagination that he’d conjured up in the dead of night, ready to haunt his every waking moment once he inevitably woke up to an empty bed. She was too good to be true. 

Spencer’s hands fell to rest on her shoulders, just to give himself proof that Y/N was real and that he hadn’t dreamed her up or somehow followed in his mother’s footsteps and succumbed to early onset schizophrenia. 

She was real and she was here, eye level with the tent in his boxers and naked as the day she was born, her warm breath fanning across the smattering of hair trailing down from his belly button to below his underwear. His muscles tensed and twitched as she smirked up at him, pressing a tender kiss to the head of his cock through the thin fabric. His entire body flinched from that one touch, his brows furrowing together as he hissed quietly. 

“N-not that I wouldn’t love to feel your mouth on me—“ Spencer’s pitch raised as her hands found the elastic of his waistband, pulling his boxers down his legs. “But I… I won’t last if you do.” 

The fondness in her eyes quelled any humiliation he felt from having uttered those words. 

Placing a kiss to his hip, she nodded in understanding before shuffling backwards to lay in the middle of his bed, with him kneeling onto the mattress after her. The sight of her— stretched out and languid and looking at him as if she wanted to ravage him— had him sending up a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever in the universe had deemed him worthy enough of having this divine of a woman in his life. 

As Spencer reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom, Y/N stammers, grabbing his attention. He watches for a moment as she flounders over her words, his brow furrowing in concern at her sudden diffidence. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“I’m on birth control if you want to skip the condom!” 

Spencer inhales sharply at the same time she smiles sheepishly up at him, her blurted words almost making him finish before they’d even started. He holds her gaze, tracing her irises for any hint of hesitancy. When he finds none, he nods once, swallowing hard. 

“I— uh. Um...” 

It was rare that Spencer Reid was rendered speechless, but Y/N had managed to do it with just eleven words. He clears his throat, trying again. 

“Yes. Yes, I would like to skip the condom. Only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.” 

“Yes. It is. I pinky promise.” 

Y/N holds up her pinky for him, the sight so endearing he can practically feel his heart melt away, dripping in a sticky mess inside him. He just grins, linking his pinky with hers before he moves to settle over her once more. 

Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair as his elbows dig into the mattress beside her ribs. The flushed head of his cock bumps against her clit as he reaches down to line himself up at her entrance, a small whine leaving her lips at the sensation. He repeats the action, dizzy from the sound of her soft noises. She was still soaked from their time on the couch, a small feeling of pride welling in Spencer’s chest at the knowledge that not only did he make her cum, but he’d kept her wet while they made it here. 

His lips meet hers in a searing kiss, the both of them quivering with anticipation at giving themselves so intimately to someone for the first time. He was happy it was her. And she was happy it was him. 

Spencer couldn’t remember a time where his mind had ever been quiet. All he knew was incessant thoughts and worries, unable to put a halt to the chaos jumbling around his brain. But as he pressed forward and sunk into Y/N for the first time, his entire mind went blank. White static crowded the spaces where various facts and tidbits of information had been stored, the only thing he was able to focus on now being the sheer ecstasy coursing through his body from being inside of her. 

His mouth hung open as his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips stilling as they pressed flush against hers. She mirrored his response, squeaking out an “oh!” as her walls fluttered around the intrusion instinctively. He throbbed in response, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck, unable to stop the pitiful whimper that escaped from behind clenched teeth. 

She was so tight. So wet. So warm. 

Sparks of pleasure zinged up and down his spine as he remained still, waiting patiently for Y/N to adjust to both his size and to the feeling of being filled for the first time in general. He’d wait as long as she needed him to. All he wanted was for her to feel good. To enjoy this as much as he was. 

He was a humble man, truly. But even he wasn’t too shy to admit he’d been gifted with a size that was bigger than average. Not necessarily just in length, falling just shy of seven inches, but in girth as well.  

Spencer peppered soft kisses up and down her flushed skin, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips. He was sure she could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his ribs from where their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples were taut, pressing into his skin enticingly. He wanted to touch them. Taste them. But he’d wait until she was ready. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. 

At her gentle nod, Spencer lifted his head to press his forehead against hers, their lips brushing together as he pulls his hips back. The sensation of her grip tightening in his hair as he pushed forward does more to him than he’d care to admit, but he still lets her hear just how affected he is by her. With a shaky moan, Spencer repeats the motion, easing out of her before gently rocking back into her. He keeps this up for a few minutes, her sharp breaths dissolving into muted moans of her own. 

“You can— you can move faster if y-you want.” 

Spencer’s eyes flutter shut at her words, and he’s pressing a fervent kiss to her lips before he begins to really move. The sound of skin smacking together begins to fill the air as he ruts his hips into hers, his walls bearing witness to every pleasured noise that spills between them. His pace is frenzied, his rhythm stuttered, but it feels so good that neither of them really care. 

Y/N’s nails roamed his body now, alternating between dragging harsh lines into the planes of his back and burying into his shoulders to leave little tender half moons in their wake. Spencer yearned to pull every single noise that he could from her throat, planting his hands beside her head and hefting himself up for better leverage before his lips wrapped around her right nipple. He sucks harshly at the pert bud, reveling in the desperate whimper it causes. 

Spencer grunts when she clenches around him, letting his mouth glide over to her neglected breast, his hips hammering into hers now as she cries out his name over and over. He was close… so, so close. But he needed to make her cum one more time before he’d allow himself to. He needed to know what it felt like for her to fall apart around his cock. With every ounce of willpower he had, Spencer slows his hips to a stop inside of her. 

Y/N whined her discontent at his sudden pause, her eyes opening to blink hazily up at him. “Why’d you… why’d you stop?” She panted, her fingers finding and twisting her own nipples as if she couldn’t help but to touch herself. 

Spencer muffled a curse at the sight, sitting back on his haunches as he stared down at the woman beneath him with reverence. 

“Flip onto your stomach for me, angel.”

She does as instructed, wiggling her hips coyly as Spencer grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffs it underneath her hips to prop her up better, ensuring she’d be comfortable. Once she’s settled on her front, Spencer wasted no time in pressing himself back into her, both of them releasing a moan so loud he’s surprised the walls don’t shake. Thank God he didn’t have neighbors right now. 

He eased himself down so his chest is pressed to her back, lavishing her neck and shoulder in open mouthed kisses while his hips drilled into her. This angle was deeper, allowing him to plow directly into her g-spot as she writhed and begged incoherently beneath him. He laced his left hand with hers, shoving them into his mattress. His other hand stuffed itself between the pillow and her wriggling body until the pads of his fingers found her clit, his breath coming out in sharp pants into her ear. 

Y/N felt delirious with pleasure, bucking her hips back in a feeble attempt to meet his. He began whispering into her ear about how good she felt around him, thanking her for allowing him to fuck her, praising her for taking him so well… 

His words paired with his fingers circling her clit have her second orgasm ripping through her body with so much ferocity that tears begin to fall down her cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut and her hand clutching his so tightly her knuckles whitened as she wailed into a pillow, gushing around him. 

Spencer let out his own guttural moan at the feeling, spilling into her with a shout as he planted his head between her shoulder blades, his hips weakly thrusting into her as they rode out their climaxes. 

He held her until her tremors stopped. He kissed her forehead before he darted off to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her with. He thanked her in soft whispers as her eyes began to drift shut before he’d even finished cleaning his mess between her thighs. 

And he knew, watching the gorgeous woman before him sleep so soundly in his bed after they’d just defiled each other’s innocence, that he was looking at his future wife. 

Will your lover caress you the way that I did? Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit? 

The air was thick with tension as Y/N stared at Ben, her chest heaving and eyes watering at the hurt look on his face. Spencer watched from the corner, his concern for his wife outweighing the jealousy he had previously felt when he watched the couple slip into her— though he still selfishly thought of it as their— bed. Y/N had been dating Ben for three months now. That made for three months that Spencer ached so heavily he’d sometimes wish he could fade back into nothingness if it meant he didn’t have to watch the love of his life with another man. 

The furthest Ben and Y/N had gone physically was a few pecks here and there, with Y/N always being the one to draw away and cut the kisses short. Ben had played the nice guy act, reassuring her that he understood her hesitance and that he’d be okay doing whatever she was comfortable with. Spencer despised him. He could see right through Ben’s facade, and if he could do more than nudge a door open, he’d make that hatred known. But he couldn’t. 

Spencer watched on with furrowed brows as Y/N reached a shaky hand over and turned the lamp on her nightstand on, illuminating the dark room in a soft glow that contrasted with the dark energy that began to cloud the small space. Spencer could see it all on Ben’s face: hurt, betrayal, anger. He could see the fear, guilt, and shame on Y/N’s. 

This was the first night Y/N had tried to push past her discomfort so that she could offer Ben more than just false promises of physical intimacy. It started slow, with soft kisses that dissolved into hungrier ones as they laid together in the dark. But the second Ben went to roll on top of her, sliding a hand down her body to pull her hips against his, she panicked. Her body jolted, and her hands had shot out instinctively to shove him off of her, leaving them where they were now in some sort of silent standoff. 

Spencer knew as soon as it had happened just why it did. She had thought of him. His guilt overruled the smug pleasure he’d felt as he watched it unfold. As painful as it had been watching Y/N move on with her life, all he ultimately wanted was for her to be happy. Spencer had been barely thirty-five when he passed, and she had only been thirty. That left almost an entire lifetime ahead for her, and even though he so desperately wanted to have lived that lifetime with her, he had to accept that that wasn’t what fate had in store for them. 

“I-I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened at the same time Y/N’s dropped. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N leveled Ben with a narrowed glare, rage flashing in her eyes in place of the shame that had just been there. 

“I get that you have a dead husband. I’ve tried to be patient with you. But fuck! It's been six years, Y/N. It’s time for you to move on,” Ben seethes, his face reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I can’t even touch you without you flinging me off of you!” 

It’s as though Y/N is the exact physical embodiment of Spencer’s own emotions, physically reacting in the way that he can’t. She was out of the bed before Spencer could even blink, marching over to the bedroom door and yanking it open. Ben watches in bewilderment, his mind clearly not catching up with what was happening. 

“Get out of my fucking house.” 

Y/N’s voice is cold as she stares menacingly at Ben. When he doesn’t move, she speaks again, her voice louder. “Get out of my fucking house, Ben!” 

Ben stammers, standing from the bed and attempting to plead his case. “Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just-”

“I don’t care. Get out of my house,” Y/N repeats herself, cutting off his pathetic excuses. 

Spencer smirks proudly from beside her.

 That’s his girl. 

Ben sighs, hanging his head and scrubbing his hands frustratedly across his face. 

“If you kick me out over some guy that’s been dead for six years, then we’re over. For good.” 

Spencer cackles at Ben’s proposition, though it can’t be heard by either party in the room. That was his attempt at fixing things? Seriously? Good riddance. He’d drag the guy out of there himself if he could. 

“If I haven’t made myself clear, we’re already over. No one talks about my husband like that. Now get out before I call the police and have you escorted off of my property.” 

It doesn’t take long after that for Ben to tuck his tail and leave, slamming the front door on his way out. Y/N’s steam runs out the second his car pulls out of her driveway, tears streaming down her face as she curls up on her couch. 

Spencer’s own chest twinges uncomfortably as he sits beside her, stroking her hair despite her inability to actually receive the comfort. He didn’t know what hurt more; watching his beautiful, broken girl sob and not being able to stop her tears, or being the cause of the tears himself. He had to do something, anything to let her know he was still there and that he still loved her beyond death. 

The same time Spencer stands is the same time Y/N’s tears pause, a hiccup rocking her frame before she glances up. 

“Spence?” Y/N calls softly. Spencer’s heart would have stopped right there had he not already been dead.

Spencer turns slowly from his place at the end of the couch, his eyes wide and hopeful as he responds. “Yes, angel?” 

His hope fades as he realizes she isn’t looking at him, rather her eyes are just darting around the room. 

“Spencer I… I know it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to you. And for that, I’m so sorry,” Y/N starts, her voice cracking. “I don’t know if you can even hear me. Or if you ever could. But I miss you. I miss you in my bones. I just… you were— are my everything.” 

The lump in her throat grows as the tears begin to stream down her face again. Spencer’s own eyes sting with tears that she’ll never see drip down his face. He swallows hard, making his way over to their— yes, their— bookshelf. 

“I’d give anything to have you back in my arms… I should have begged you to leave the BAU and just teach full-time if it meant I could still have you here, safe and at home. It’s not even a home without you.” 

Y/N sobs freely now, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them before she buries her head into them. 

Every ounce of grief, guilt, sadness, and anger from what his death has done to his precious girl fuels Spencer to do something he deemed impossible: he yanks the leatherbound notebook holding their vows inside of it off of the bookshelf, sending it tumbling to the ground in a desperate attempt to show her that he’s still there and that he still loves her. 

The noise causes a yelp to slip from Y/N’s lips, her head jerking up as the book hits the hardwood floor with a loud thump. It had fallen open exactly to where Spencer wanted it to: the page starting his vows to her.  Y/N crawls from the couch to the book, her trembling hands lifting the journal so that she can read the words her husband wrote to her ten years ago. With a deep exhale, she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor, reading Spencer’s chicken scratch he called handwriting with a heavy heart. And for the first time since his casket closed, she feels a sense of peace wash over her. She was going to be okay, despite it all, because he was hers just as much as she was his.

Continued A/N: Ahh!! Ghost!Spencer my beloved. :') JUST TO CLARIFY: I am not a JJ hater!! It just fit better for the story to have her be the one this all happened for. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to sharing more in the future with you as my blog grows <3

K <3

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 5

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist

Context Warning: NSFW! Mentions of Dub-con/ Non-con, Oral Sex, Author's Poor Attempt in Smut & Dark Fic, Mentions of Slavery, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Fingerfucking, Biting, Overstimulation (kinda), Edging (kinda)

What the fuck.

Those three words were the first thought of train that shot up to your brain as he finished his statement, his tone and his gaze both reeking of confidence and certainty, which made something flip in your stomach.

You had always liked confident men who knew about what they wanted and had the power to back up their actions and words. But that only applied to men in fiction you have read in books. In real life? Especially after the fucking blood-sucking leech who couldn’t keep his goddamn hands to himself and just buy women he could keep fucking by his side and leave you the fuck alone, captured you and sold you, your trust and belief that one day you would meet someone who actually wouldn’t force themselves into their females had broken down like stars in the sky.

Well . . . there was Graves, the same fucking leech you wanted to kick on the balls, but he wasn’t the fucking focus right now.

You stared at Simon, lips parted in disbelief. You blinked your eyes rapidly in repeat, his words echoing in your mind like a broken record, but his low laugh shattered it.

“I see why Price told me he loves watching your expressions,” he said, untying his cloak and letting it fall on the floor.

You frowned at him, face slightly warming at the memories of Price between your thighs, his tongue working on your clit whereas his fingers curled inside your hole. As much as you hated it, the fire-breathing lizard knew how to pleasure a woman . . . and torment you.

But if this was going to keep up, if this was how the rest of your life would play out, wouldn’t it be better to get used to it soon? It wouldn’t be a long while now for them to run out of patience and tie you up on bed all day and night to take their turns to fuck you mindless.

You felt like laughing at the thought, but in your situation, the best course of action to keep them pleased and not hurt you as much was to take their offers—or rather, ask them what you could offer them.

“How would you like to do it?” you questioned in a hushed tone.

Simon blinked, confused by the sudden query, but quickly understood what you meant, and huffed. “No, how would you like to do it?”

For fuck’s sake, this man got a way with words more than the fucking siren did.

You remained lying on the bed as he got up and leaned down on you, the balaclava hoisted up to the bridge of his nose. At first, he seemed hesitant, you both were, but when you flattered your eyes closed, and he was the first to dive down onto a kiss.

It started soft, patient—not any sign of aggression nor cruel hunger in his lips. And as thanks, you reached up to his head as he splayed his now ungloved hand on your stomach. Then, it began to travel down south, slightly tugging on the hem of your dress.

He broke the kiss, slightly pulling himself away from you, and you opened your eyes, meeting a pair of deep brown eyes, but quickly left the contact. You watched his hand disappear under your dress, going under the band of your undergarment. Somewhat, you did not feel any sense of disturbance or disgust being this close to him. The roughness of his calloused hands, instead, made your skin crawl with anticipation.

“Use your words, love,” he muttered the command to your ear.

You took a deep breath. “Go on.”

You shuddered at his touch as you felt his warm digit brush against your wetness, trying to keep yourself relaxed as he circled the small bud of nerves. You let out a pretty little noise, tilting your head back each time his finger dipped into your entrance, and felt your core tighten up and drip onto his hand. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip when Simon found your sensitive nub, running his fingers on it up and down.

A hum escaped his lips. “Here?” He pressed on your clit, eliciting a whine from you, and moved his hand down, letting his thumb do the work while his fingers dove into your entrance.

You grabbed onto his arm, knowing what it did to Price before, only to confirm it going with Simon as well.

He inserted another finger, which your cunt easily welcomed in, and continued his dirty work. His calloused thumb swirled constant maddening circles over your clit, his fingers dragging in and out of your slick walls. He knew you were close, clenching around his digits and your breathing growing quicker. Then, he stopped at the brink.

“Simon,” you cried, cursing in your mind. “Please.”

He quickly resumed his actions, his fingers pushing deeper into you, and his palm smacking against your clit. In return, you chanted his name, and pleasure shot throughout your body. But he didn't stop, still moving his fingers as they grew drenched in a languid pace, till he pulled out.

Simon moved south, pushing the dress up to your abdomen and quickly getting ahold of your panties, pulling them off. You found yourself swallowing as he fixed his mask over his nose and looked up at you. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Bare hands traveled along the skin of your outer thighs, keeping them spread, and using his hands, he pulled your hips closer, bringing your core against his mouth. Like a continuance, his thumb rolled your sensitive bud as his tongue buried deep into your.

Your hand slammed against the mattress, clenching on the sheets at the sensation of his tongue lapping up your fluids, and the feeling began to grow too quickly the moment he threw one of your legs over his shoulder.

Simon clamped his lips over your clit, sucking hard as he watched your back arch onto the bed, and in comparison to the way you held yourself back before, a song of moans and whines left your lips, and never in his life he had heard something so captivating.

You came quicker this time, your hips rolling against his mouth, your flavors flooding his tongue, and reluctantly he pulled away. You watched him crawl over you, tearing your nightgown apart like paper, completely exposing yourself to the monster once more.

However, this time, you didn't mind. You had brought this to yourself and you were willing to take the risk.

His hand traveled along your chest, his rough fingers brushing over your delicate nipple while he bent down, taking the other with his mouth. Without any words said, his free hand went to the buttons of his shirt, and he straightened up, jerking his clothes off, showing off what had been underneath.

Scars dusted his body, trailing like the tails of shooting stars. With how they scattered on his fair skin, it would seem that they were almost connected to form constellations themselves, adorning his muscles.

It was hard not to stare.

But it was harder not to think that he was this beautiful this whole time underneath those blasted layers of his.

“You're staring,” he remarked, and tilted his head, in a way that made something flip in your stomach. “Like what you see?”

“Yes.” You splayed a hand on his abdomen. You brushed your finger along his skin, nails scraping the bumps and craters of the scars as you slowly pulled yourself up to sit. As you reached his shoulder, trailing over his nape, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his chest. “Quite well.”

Simon found himself smiling. He placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you onto him, your face on his chest, yours against his stomach. In swift yet careful movements, he flipped you over. With his guidance, you maneuvered on his lap, your wet sex pressing against the tent on his pants, and your hands resting on his chest whereas he settled on your ass. Following the movements of his hands, you ground back and forth, shivering, quiet moans leaving your lips, and your breath hitched as he bucked up.

You watched a smirk play on his lips, which you frowned at, and Heavens forbid your impulsive thoughts—you reached between your thighs, unbuckling his belt, leaving it just as that, and popped his button open. You pulled him out from the confines of his pants and swallowed at the feeling of his cock in your hand, precum leaking from its tip. It stood proud for a moment, before falling on his abdomen.

“Go on, I did ask you how you would like to do it,” he reminded and slowly, you began stroking his length, eliciting a groan from him. “Fuckin’ hell.”

You gave a few good tugs, before adjusting from his lap and slid your core against his cock. You gasped out at the sensation, clenching your core over nothing, just as he grunted, squeezing your ass and guiding you once again to grind onto him.

Your eyes flattered close and you let your head tilt back, rolling your hips faster with each passing second. Your thighs began to tremble, brows knitted as you whined his name, to which he responded with murmurs of your name, till strings of his cum shot out, painting his stomach white.

You slowed down and leaned down to him, not minding the stickiness that spread on your abdomen as your skin met his in a searing touch. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that seemed to be almost in the same rhythm as yours, whilst his hands traveled up to your waist.

“Come here,” he demanded. You tilted your head up and raised a brow in question. He smiled. “On my face.”

Your eyes widened. “You want me to—”

“Very much so,” he cut you off, swallowing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Just move how you would on my cock.”

You swallowed, and finally, after a few seconds, you gave him a nod. Rising from his chest, he picked you up and easily perched you above his face. Then, when he lied back down on the mattress, he lowered you to his mouth and began licking. You gripped the top of the headboard, throwing your head back with a trembling sigh, and just as he said, you ground on him as he devoured you once again.

Simon delved deep, tasting, teasing, and pushing you further and further until you writhed in his grip. He sucked on your clit, hard, bringing you close. Your knuckles had turned white, trying to come back down on the bed, when he let go of your sex to sink his teeth in your inner thigh. You sucked in a harsh breath, and fuck—turned on instead of pained. So close to your sensitive clit, the bite was wildly blissful, and finally, you came together with him.

He groaned, kissing the spot where he left his mark, while still moving you against his mouth and jerking himself off, albeit both slowing down.

When you came down next to him back on the bed, he immediately wrapped his arms around your naked flesh, pressing his lips on your hairline, and didn't seem to mind the sheet of sweat coating your skin.

“I . . .” You paused, catching your breath. “ I thought you were new to this.”

“I am.” He caressed your back, gently massaging your muscles. “But I've seen enough to know and learn.”

“Fucking hell.” You grumbled on his chest, to which he responded with a low chuckle.

“Let's get you cleaned up.”

You blinked away the sleepiness as you felt the warmth of the sun kissing your skin through the gap in the curtains. You shifted on the bed and groaned at the foreign weight over your waist.

“Morning.”

You jolted at the gravely deep voice that reverberated at your side and looked over to see Simon next to you.

He inched closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, where his breath fanned your skin, his teeth grazing over a vein. “Surprised to see me beside you?”

“No,” you placed a hand on his arm over your waist. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Best one yet.”

You found yourself staring at his eyes, reflecting the light like a pool of melted gold, and smiled. “I think I slept well.”

You flinched once again when the doors of your chamber slammed open, and the incubus, the freaking catalyst of the events of the night, sauntered in.

“I knew it!” Johnny yelled and joined you on the bed, taking your free side. “No wonder I couldnae tap into her head!”

Simon shook his head and pulled you closer to him. “Apologize first.”

“What, why?” Mactavish questioned, making you frown.

“Our wife couldn't sleep last night because of you.”

“Oh.” There was a short while of silence before he carefully took your hand. “I'm sorry, Bonnie.”

But you did not answer, annoyance filling your brain at the lack of sincereness in his voice. You pushed yourself further into the wraith's embrace.

“Bonnie? Love?”

You closed your eyes and heard Simon’s scoff.

You heaved out a sigh, staring at the white clouds blotting the blue sky. The wind brushed your skin, making your dress flatter against the grass that prickled your bare back and delivered the scent of the flowers surrounding you. You had never been in a garden before, barely even touched the grass or walked on a field without fearing for your life. But in this place, one you would and could call a cage, you found an unexpected warmth and comfort.

Well, except for the blasted incubus next to you, who hadn’t probably blinked for a few minutes now, eyes as blue as the sky never leaving your face. You still hadn’t answered him when he had been relentlessly apologizing to you, much to Simon’s amusement.

“Love, won’t ya talk to me?” he cooed, and you averted your gaze as he peered into your sight. “Please?”

“I’d be down on my knees if I were you,” the siren’s silvery voice made its way to your eyes, and from your peripheral, you noticed him walking toward you. He sat down next to you and extended a clenched fist to the wraith. “Good call stopping by her room, Ghost.”

“Consent is the key,” Simon remarked, making you roll your eyes, and adjust your head on his lap as he bumped his fist with the talking fish.

“Go to hell,” Johnny glowered at the both of them.

“I dunno ‘bout that,” Kyle leaned down on you and ran his fingers along your jaw. You leaned to his touch, watching his lips curve to a satisfied smile before you latched yours onto his. Quickly, he responded, tracing his tongue over your lips and you parted them, to let him in, but your attention was stolen by a thing hovering in the sky, slowly descending.

You pulled away from Kyle, squinting your eyes at the being, and raised your brow upon realization it was John. Ah, right, dragons can fly.

As he neared, the wind began to blow hard, and Kyle pulled you close to him, shielding you from the harsh breeze, which soon died down when the King touched down.

“Gained intel about the party,” Price fished out some papers from his pocket and handed them to his brothers, before dropping to his knees. He picked up your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips. “My Queen.”

“John,” you simply replied and looked over your shoulder, his words about the upcoming party catching your interest, only to watch Johnny frown upon the contents of the paper.

“That leech is coming?” questioned the incubus, raising a brow at the dragon.

“Graves?” you couldn’t help but wonder. As far as you knew, Graves was the only one who got called ‘Leech’ by his fellow monsters.

“A different kind,” Jonathan intervened. “That thing’s more like an octopus.”

Simon threw the paper away. “Fuckin’ tentacles.”

“Well, Graves is also coming,” Kyle answered on their behalves, making you turn your attention back to him. “But he is not who we are concerned about.”

You frowned. “Who, then?”

The siren sighed. “In the deep sea, there are two kingdoms that have always been in bad blood, and war could break out any minute with one wrong move. That’s my kingdom, the Sirens, and the Krakens.” He handed you the paper, letting you read what was written in it. “And their king, famously known as ‘Konig’ is going to attend the party, when he hadn’t been for as long as we didn’t.”

You found the name he mentioned on the paper. “What’s bad about that?”

“He was at your auction,” Johnny fessed and scoffed. “Why would he even go, he didn’t even buy a female this time.”

“Because of her,” Simon nodded at your way. “I have a feeling he got a word about her before we even laid our eyes on her. If Price wasn’t any faster, she would have been . . .” he trailed off.

You sighed and plopped back down on the grass. “What’s new about that? If he was the one with me now—”

“You would have been dead already,” Simon finished.

As though a bucket of cold water had been thrown at you, you froze in your place, his words repeating over and over again in your mind. You had heard of this Konig, before, from the news and Graves, and Simon’s statement wasn’t far off. The King of Krakens was infamous for killing every woman he was with for unknown reasons. As if that wasn’t enough, he was also known for murdering his own men.

He was the embodiment of monstrosity, the pinnacle of all mortals, the horror of every race.

To think that he was there in the crowd just as you were being sold, watching in the shadows, about to get his hands on you, before Price swept in, made your heart hammer against your ribs. And it only led your mind further down into the hole that maybe, you were lucky to be here, after all.

“One more thing,” John spoke, breaking into your reverie, fiddling with your fingers with his rough ones. “The females will have to perform something.”

“Perform?” You echoed in a meek voice, getting uncomfortable with how the conversation was going.

“Yes, it’s like a . . .” He smacked his lips. “Showcase, or to strike a deal, a trade. If a monster happens to like another female than the one he bought, he can trade with another monster. But if the monster is satisfied with the one he’s got, then nothing will—”

You sat up. “You’re not—” You gripped tight on his hand. “You’re not going to trade me, are you?” You gazed into his eyes, your vision slightly blurring at the welling tears, which you fought back by blinking. “I don’t know what kind of performance I can do, I’m not used to crowds, but I’m–I’m beginning to like it here—”

He cut you off, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that burned the air from your lungs.

Stalemate.

Someone will deserve an Oscar. Also, as stated, there will be "scenes" with Konig, and he will be an antagonist for better or worse, along with some other canon characters. If you don't like it, shoo--I mean, feel free to not read, because I don't intend to write him in the way that the readers will like him.

He may be good in my other fanfic, but here? If you are up to, uhm, real like for real real, dub-con/non-con things, then wait for Konig. I guess. But he won't be the end game.

Remember, This is a TF 141 fanfic!

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own

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Taglist: @cringeycookies, @sunndust, @noonespecial475, @spooky-skeletonie, @casualunknownrunaway, @lialucis, @tanaari, @mc-cos-charm, @demonic-bird, @thriving-n-jiving, @teenagellamaangel, @nightriver99, @drenix004

[yanderes-galore]

Same anon as the Overblot Idia ask - I lied, I'd also like Overblot Leona Kingscholar too, but I figured one character per ask.

Sure! I'll try my best... I warn you, it may be short :(

Yandere! Overblot! Leona Kingscholar Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder, Sadism, Jealousy, Mentions of 'Mate', Forced "relationship".

Overblot! Leona is... well... feral in nature.

By the time he overblots he's overcome with jealousy, envy, hate...

Along with a destructive desire.

Like all Overblot forms, Leona is dangerous to be around.

Due to his Signature Spell 'King's Roar', everything he touches becomes sand.

Not only that, but sandstorms kick up around him.

When it comes to yandere Overblot characters, I imagine their obsession would also kickstart their transformation.

Not only is he trying to overthrow the school competition and beat Malleus...

But you may also be involved too.

That or maybe this is an alternate form of events where Leona has been watching you for a while....

Maybe Leona has fallen for you long ago, be that at Night Raven or even back in his old country, and he's kept close tabs ever since.

Leona, second prince, is used to having to fight for what he wants.

He never is just handed what he desires... not like a king.

Instead, he's forced to work for it.

That or deceive and steal it.

Leona stalks his obsession, his prey....

He watches everyone who dares to speak with you, everyone he dares to steal you.

Even just watching commoners talk to you makes his tail flick.

Going down this route, Leona's Overblot would be born from jealousy and rage.

Imagine if Leona gets tipped over the edge somehow?

Maybe he sees you with someone else romantically and loses it?

Overblot is deadly for everyone involved...

Including the person suffering from the corruption.

In this state, Leona does not care about his surroundings.

Everything could turn to sand for all he cares.

After all, if he can't rule a kingdom or have the mate he chooses...

Then it shall all be sand.

The sight is terrifying to you especially.

You knew of Leona, the lion often observing you like a future meal.

He's always unnerved you no matter where he is.

He's always watching... always waiting...

But looks like he's met his limit.

Leona can only take so much.

He's tired of being neglected, not even his tricks will get him what he wants.

By the time he Overblots, he's like a force of nature.

He's a drought that slurps anything and everything, leaving only sand.

He can't control his rage...

Unfortunately, his obsession can't either.

Unless subdued, Leona is a being of pure destruction.

He won't even realize it half the time.

He's a roaring beast, yelling about how it's all unfair.

He deserves to rule, he deserves to have you...!

Anyone around becomes fodder for his rage.

Innocent bystanders feel as though they're in a sandstorm, their skin dry and cracking as Leona laughs.

Leona would rampage until he finds the one he's looking for.

Despite his feral mind, Leona recalls one thing.

You.

You are truly what he desires most.

Before his Overblot, he made peace with the fact he can't have the throne...

As long as he could have you, it wouldn't matter.

Yet he lost you to someone else supposedly more worthy too.

You can hide as best as you can...

The sand suffocates you, causing you to cough.

The air is so dry.

Eventually you'll succumb... Then he'll find you.

Leona makes it a goal to hunt your partner, claws sinking into their flesh as he grins.

They don't deserve you... If Leona doesn't deserve you, no one does.

Leona would gleefully turn the one you love to sand if it meant finding you.

By the time he finds you, the corrupted prince is on all fours to look in your hiding spot.

His eyes are predatory, fangs bared in a sadistic grin...

He's found his prey.

Black ichor drips from him, a thick ink that not even his sand can dry out...

It stinks of poison.

Stinks of danger.

Leona doesn't care if he hurts you in this state, reaching out and tugging you into his chest.

It's painful... so painful.

Yet Leona only growls... or is it a purr?

Your skin is cracking as you feel the moisture leave it.

Leona only nuzzles... worsening your condition.

Even now you're adorable... and all his...

Even though his touch is slowly killing you.

Unless Leona is stopped, Leona's Overblot is too volatile to survive.

Leona has one goal as his own magic is eaten away by blot.

He wants to keep you to himself.

He doesn't care if his surroundings turn to sand, if you die, or if he dies...

How can he in such a feral state?

All that matters is you're all his...

After all, if he can't have you, no one will...

You'll both turn to sand if he wills it.

[manikeri]

too rough..

content warming: rough sex, dirty talk, stomach issues (he tore your shit up), breeding, aftercare, little bit of begging, whiny dom! eren, sub! reader, enjoy!

summary: Eren just can’t control himself when he’s inside your pretty pussy! He goes so rough that you have cramps, don’t worry though. Your renny would never ever just leave you like that! Forgive him?

“Heyyy baby…” Eren coos while rubbing your back gently, his weight putting a dent in the bed as he sat next to your cradled body. Your knees to your chest with the blanket over your body. You nudged your body forward a little before wincing at the pain that shot through your tummy.

It was all his fault!! You had the whole day planned out! You were gonna go on a coffee run, go on a target shopping spree, maybe even grab a bite to eat! But nooo…

Don’t get it twisted you love your pretty boy, so much! He just has a problem.. an addiction.. to your pussy. Last night was the 3rd time this week he woke you up in the middle of the night to have sex!!!

I mean.. you weren’t sleeping anyways.. but that’s not the point!!! You were getting there, ok?!

“please don’t be like that.. I said sorry..”

“…”

“really? Silent treatment?”

“…my stomach hurts”

“i know baby, I’m sorry I brought you some aleve and water”

Eren kneeled in front of you as you sat up from your fetal position holding your stomach. You took the pills and drank the water while staring at him.. god he was so pretty

His forearms resting on his knees as his head was tilted to the side, you watched as he brung his tattooed hands up to your things rubbing them slowly. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander off to what happened last night

“fuck! too r-rough ren!” you screamed for the millionth time tonight.

“pussy feels so. fuckin. good. babyyyy… oh my god i love you so much” he whined as he continued fucking himself out in your pretty cunny

You layed your head back down as he gave you the most lethal backshots known to man, you tried putting your hand on his abdomen but that didn’t work.. he was saying things like

“shitt.. no, not right now baby. please don’t keep this from me right now”

“please baby please just let me have it. All of it”

“Stop doing that..! I need this so badly, please let me make the both of us feel good baby.”

All you could do was whine along with him! You both were so pathetic. Fucking each other stupid at 1 in the morning. Your eyes rolling back as you bit the blanket. His hips having a mind of their own, his cheeks dusted a baby pink, his eyes furrowed in pleasure, and his mouth hanging open as he watched where you both connected.

You started to throw it back a little on him, you hated seeing him do all the work. You never wanted to be a pillow princess. You love pleasing your man, and man did he love you pleasing him

“shit! you trynna one up me baby?”

“n-no.. just wanna make you feel good”

“makin’ me feel real good baby”

He let out a shaky sigh before grabbing your hips and ramming into you with all his might. You squealed into the blanket as you took his harsh strokes. Eventually you felt a tingly feeling building up in your stomach, Eren knew before you could say anything to him.

“I know baby i feel it, just let it go.. fuck me…”

“want you to cum with me!”

“fuck! You’re driving me crazy y/n… shit im gonna cum, cum with me please baby please”

You came on instant a loud moan leaving your lips as your eyes crossed and squeezed you eyes shut, a loud groan coming immediately after.

All that could be heard were heavy breaths and squelching as eren rode out both of your highs. He finally pulled out and laid down next to you, only to find you already dead asleep. He kissed your forehead before drifting off himself

“if you keep staring at me like that you’re gonna be complaining about your tummy for the rest of the week” he said poking the flesh and giggling after you kick his calf.

“Just jokes beautiful, come on, I got you a surprise” he says getting up and walking to the door before turning around and seeing you still on the bed.

“hey, baby.. im really sorry i went so rough yesterday. You have every right to be angry-”

“im not angry ren.”

“so why aren’t you coming wit-”

“I can’t walk…”

His mouth opens in realization before walking out with explanation, then back in with a bunch of presents. Your favorite drink, snacks, new plushies for your collection. Some bags from your favorite store.

You smiled and held your arms out for him to hug you, he put everything on the bed and walked over to your side of the bed with a smile

“I love you rennie”

“I love you more baby.”

[theonlyhonoredone]

Choso BF Headcanons

Pairing: Choso Kamo x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: my idea of how Choso is as a partner

Masterlist

bf!Choso is extremely loyal and extremely doting. There’s a learning curve, you’re the first person he’s ever had romantic feelings for after all, but he’s always happy to put in the work to make you both happy. He’ll scan the web and ask around for new date ideas, Yuji will send him romantic movies to watch and Choso will study them with a pen and paper in hand. He’ll present to you a long list of date ideas and ask you to pick your favorites so he can plan accordingly. 

bf!Choso is always flustered by pda. If you so much as hold his hand or kiss his cheek you can bet his whole face is turning red. He’s not much better in private either. If you snuggle up to his chest his heart feels like it’s going to explode. Sitting in his lap leaves him to sit awkwardly until you prompt him to hold your waist. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, you always manage to fill him with butterflies.

bf!Choso isn’t nearly as social as his youngest brother. He enjoys smaller outings with just a few people to big parties. He’s very family oriented and he loves seeing you bond with his brothers. He’s happy to meet your family or bring you into his if they aren’t in the picture. Tender moments with the people he loves most make him happier than anything. He loves holidays and sees them as a great opportunity to bring all his favorite people together. He's a great gift giver.

bf!Choso is overprotective of you just like he is his brothers. You know it comes from a place of love, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t become overbearing sometimes. It will take a few long talks and some on the field experience for him to back off a bit. He’s always worried about the people he loves getting hurts and the fact that he can’t feel you the same way he can with his brothers only serves to make him worry even more. He’ll feel better once he sees for himself how capable you are of protecting yourself. Once he learns to take a few steps back you two are able to work really well together. Having you there to watch his back and being able to watch yours too brings him a lot of peace. He enjoys being a team.

bf!Choso loves it when you steal his clothes. They always come back to him smelling like you and he hates it when he has to wash the smell off. He thinks you look beautiful in everything but it warms his heart when he sees you wearing something of his. If you really want to make him happy you’ll get you both a piece of matching jewelry, something both of you can wear all the time that represents each other. He’ll fiddle with it whenever you’re apart and press a kiss to it if he needs to calm his nerves.

 bf!Choso loves staying with you before you move in. He likes how the whole space feels like you and finds everything there cozy and calming. When you do move in together he really enjoys decorating together and finding things you both love for the house. He loves to put up the pictures of the two of you, your friends, and his brothers. He loves being able to see all his favorite people looking so happy all together. Doing things together around the house makes him really happy: folding laundry, cooking, cleaning, it doesn’t matter as long as you do it together.

bf!Choso is not a morning person. He loves snuggling up in bed with you, he likes to bury his face against your skin and he loves how calm it is when you cozy up together in bed. There is almost nothing he hates more than having to wake up from that. Getting up out of your warm embrace always sours his mood and he will attempt to keep you in bed with him for as long as he can. Late mornings are his favorite. He likes to stay in bed long after the sun comes up and not move until your grumbling stomach commands you to get up.

bf!Choso is new to the modern era and finds a lot of freedom in the great variation of style he sees in the people around him. He has a lot of fun finding his own style, enjoying experimenting with his hair and clothes. He may pick up a few piercings and tattoos too as he discovers exactly what kind of aesthetic he likes. He feels the most comfortable experimenting around you because he knows you won’t judge him, you’re always encouraging. If you experiment with your look he always returns this energy and encourages you to try as many new things as you want. He thinks you look your best when you feel good about yourself and the reality is he’d think you’re the most beautiful woman that’s ever lived no matter what you had on.

bf!Choso will annoy you with his extreme indecisiveness. It isn’t a horrible trait by any means, but when you’re starving and he wants to carefully weigh out the merits of every restaurant in the city it drives you a little crazy. He’s a very thoughtful person with everything he does and while that is often a good thing, there are some decisions that don’t require intensive thought and consideration. There have definitely been a few times you fell asleep waiting for him to decide what movie to put on.

bf!Choso who can’t keep his feelings to himself. He gushes about you to his brothers and friends all the time, telling them about whatever cute thing you did that morning or how excited he is for an upcoming date. Everyone can see how much he loves you. For anyone who sees the two of you together it’s easy to see you’re equally obsessed. 

[hongjoongtime117]

Just random thoughts on how I think Hongjoong would be as a boyfriend! Definitely a little self indulgent with the mentions of some things, but I’m sure some of you can relate! ❤️

Genre: fluff? Idk 😂

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, chronic illness, doctors appointments, family troubles

Hongjoong who supports every single dream and aspiration, regardless of how many times they’ve changed

Hongjoong who gives everything he can to make said dreams and aspirations happen

Hongjoong who finds joy in watching you do the things you love

Hongjoong who will always believe in you, even more so when you don’t believe in yourself

Hongjoong who hates to see you upset, so will do anything to see you smile again

Hongjoong who grounds you during panic attacks and never once makes you feel any less for it

Hongjoong who encourages you to set boundaries and remove those who don’t respect them

Hongjoong who wishes you were on better terms with your family, because he knows how much the traditions with them means. But he can’t fix that, so instead he takes it upon himself to make new traditions and new memories with you

Hongjoong who is so in tune with you, he can sense how you’re feeling, even if you try and hide it from him

Hongjoong who goes to every single doctors appointment to try and best understand the things you’re going through

Hongjoong who takes great care of you when your body leaves you with not much to give, where before, partners have called you lazy and worthless. NEVER Hongjoong

Hongjoong who does everything possible to make sure you know you’re loved and wanted

[lillydoobiddle]

Pairing: Husband!Heeseung x Wife!(f)Reader

Genre: fluff, marriage life, romance

synopsis: It just how you and heeseung as a family spent your weekend together with both of your one and only daughter.

Warning: broken english and there might be a typo since i wrote this in the middle of the night (pls understand:D)

This morning wasnt very bright like usually it was. The rain keep pouring down, wetting the street and trees since the night before. You wake up because how loud the storm is. The loud sound from the storm got you a little bit terrified. Since kid, you always scared with loud voices but you forced yourself always to pretend like it was fine until you grew up.

Slowly, you open your eyes, pull the blanket to cover all your body and leaving only your head. You try to sleep again, try to enjoy the sound of the rain but the storm make it harder. Suddenly, you feel a hands wrapped around your waist. A soft kisses lean on your ear. “Im here baby.. im here” it was heeseung voice.

since the first time you awake and tried to get back to your sleep, heeseung also awake and already notice your movement that seems something like has bothering you. He just realize it was the storm and he knows you hate it.

Gladly when he calms you like this, you became even calmer and your breath get more slower.. giving him a sign you already relax. Both of you get back to sleep, change both of your position to start cuddle before you burried your face in his chest while his hand covering your ears. Few hour passed when both of you already in your two own dreams, suddenly a small sounds of someone open the bedroom door echo in the room.

A gentle and slow stepped sounds getting closer towards the bed. The one who notice the strange sounds at first was heeseung, since he’s very sensitive with small sounds near him. He sat himself back on the bed as he picked up ji-a small body when she try so hard to get up on the kingsize bed. “Sweetpie.. what are you doing here?” He asked. He still very sleepy “cannot sleep daddy.. the storm was loud. Im scared” ji-a voice sounds very innocent. She just like you, scared of storm

“Okay okay.. then sleep with us. Daddy and mommy here for you” Heeseung put her to lay on the middle as you still in your dream. Didnt realize ji-a already with both of you.

The clock showed up 9:45 AM and your eyes finally open. But the kingsize bed already have no one on it besides you. “Where did hee go?” You mumbled to yourself. You think he might in the bathroom right now so you decide to went down stairs towards the kitchen. In your way, your mind full with the idea of breakfast for this morning. Being a mother, wife, and also business woman makes you very exhausted lately. It makes you pretty lazier then usual

When you stepped your foot in the kitchen, your eyes widen. You can see ji-a was making a pancakes with heeseung. Heeseung pick ji-a up with one arm while she begin to pour the pancakes batter onto the hot pan. Both of them notice your appearance and suddenly heeseung put ji-a down, ji-a took a plate of pancakes on the counter top and ran pretty fast to you

“Mommy…Good morningg!! I made you pancakes with daddy” ji-a said while giggles. She show you the pancakes she made with your favorite chocolate syrup and strawberry pieces as the topping. “Awww baby..” you kneeled in front of her and kiss her cheeks as much as you can. Your heart full now with the sign of your 5 years daughter cook this for you. Heeseung cannot stop smiling watching both of your interaction that makes his heart warm

“You are such a talented girl! I love you.. mommy will eat it okay?” Ji-a smile and nodded her head excitedly before you took the plate from her tiny hand. “Ji-a.. dont you wanna help daddy making the rest of the pancakes too?” Heeseung finally speak again making that little girl ran back to him

All of you, finally having breakfast together with pancakes that your 5 y.o daughter made. After the breakfast, it was a usual weekend day. Heeseung, you, and ji-a mostly spent the day with playing in the living room. Maybe you guys watch some movies, have karaoke in the living room together, or heeseung will invited his two princess to dance like a castle people with disney song

4 hours family time together feels like 4 minutes only and now its time for ji-a to have a little nap. “Come onn sweetie! Arent you tired already?” You ask “but mommy.. can i have few minutes again? I still want to play with daddy and you!!” She whined, her gaze turned to heeseung with her boba eyes

“We can play later ji-a.. now its time for you to have nap okay? Be good and listen your mommy” Heeseung speak gently but his words was stern to make his only daughter disipline about time “okayyy.. im gonna go to sleep” She quickly went to her bedroom followed by both of you. Heeseung and you gonna be by her side till she fall asleep.

After she fall asleep, Its time to spend time with your libra husband. You lay on the living room couch but your head was on his lap. He softly caressing your hair, and asked something to open the conversation between both of you “I see your face lately getting prettier.. but it seems like you hide something” He said and look down at you

“Huh? I dont hide anything” You look confused or maybe pretend to look confused “Nah.. you did. I saw your face lately seems very tired. You often wake up late too. It dosent matter what time you should wake up because i can take care of the house and ji-a too but it was a very uncommon thing for you to wakeup late” He explain “You just wakeup late everytime you are tired.. what’s wrong? What makes you tired?” he asked. This time he was curious

“Im just… very very tired. I should take care of the house, child, my bakery” You let out a heavy sigh “I dont mind doing all of it.. but im a human and i can feel tired”

“Ahh.. i get it. I understand that baby” Hee said as he slowly massage your head “That’s normal and that’s okay. Now just close your eyes and let me help you relax” He said that and you begin to giggles because he always treats you right no matter what.

“Awww you massage my head too hard!”

“Really? Im sorry.. is it good enough?”

“Nahh.. still too hard~”

“Really? You ask too much”

“You are the one that offer this massage.. im just complaining”

“I think i will kiss you if you keep complaining”

and that’s how your family spent a weekend day together

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 12)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/n leave the Bahamas and have a chance to enjoy themselves.

Warnings: Language, fluff, smut

Word Count: 2.8k+

You wake up to Rafe peppering kisses to your swollen belly. "Goodmorning, angel," He whispers against your skin. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Mmmm, don't wanna get up." You whine. Rafe's bed was so comfy. The warm air that drifted in through the patio doors added to your comfort and you were suddenly sad this wasn't a real vacation to the Bahamas.

"I know baby, I'm sorry. I promise we'll come back here soon."

"Honeymoon?" You ask.

Rafe looks up at you, smile wide on his face. "Honeymoon." He confirms. "But first," He says as he climbs back up your body, letting his lips hover over yours. "I owe you a ring, my dear fiancee."

You smile, taking his face between your hands as your guide his lips to yours, savoring every second of the kiss with your fiance. You'd never get tired of saying that. Atleast until you got to call him your husband.

You lazily got ready, putting on some basic make up, some shorts, and one of Rafe's t-shirts. He carried your stuff to the truck and you made your way downstairs. You ate cereal while you watched Rafe, Ward, and the escorts load up the gold on to the truck.

You sat in between Ward and Rafe as you drove to the airport. Rafe had his arm lazily slung around your shoulder as he leaned his head against yours.

Suddenly, a bunch of kids were running out in front of the trucks causing you all to stop.

"What the hell is this?" Ward asked.

"Oh, God, it's just some kids," Rafe said. "Move! Get out of the way!" He began yelling out the window.

Something didn't feel right. This was a trap.

"It's a trap!" One of the escorts yelled. You turned around to see men approaching your vehicle.

"We gotta go!" You yell.

Ward pulls out around the other trucks and takes off through an alley. "Where are we going?! Find where we are!" He yells at Rafe.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Rafe responds, looking at his phone. "This road goes to the same place just keep going."

"What the fuck was that?!" You ask as you tried to steady your breathing. You didn't realize you were clinging to Rafe's shirt until he pulled you into him. He wrapped protective arms around you as he looked out the window for a sign of anyone following you.

"Stay on this road, it will take us directly to the airport." Rafe says.

"Oh, what the fuck..." You mutter as you see the barrels and workers blocking the road ahead.

"Are you kidding me?" Ward says. "Get the gun, Rafe."

Rafe reaches for the glove box, pulling the gun out and tucking it in the back of his waist band. You swallow. You still hated guns but you'd been around them much more recently. Rafe gives you an apologetic look and you just nod, letting him know you trust him.

The people that approach the truck pull a gun on Ward and a knife on Rafe. Noticing you're pregnant, the man pulls you out of the car too, pushing you forward with Ward so he can keep the gun on both of you.

"Please don't hurt her!" Rafe begs, keeping his eyes on you.

"Shut up!" The woman spits at Rafe. "Move these to the side of the road."

Ward and Rafe begin moving the barrels and are forced on the ground. "You too, Princess!" He yells at you.

"I-I can't lay on my stomach," You say, keeping your hands up.

"On your knees then!"

You glance over at Rafe. You could see him trying to swallow his anger. You pleaded with your eyes for him not to try anything stupid.

"Go, go!" You hear the man yell.

You turn around and your jaw drops as you see Sarah and John B running to the truck.

"Sarah?" Ward yells. "Sarah, baby, you're alive!" He was standing up now. "You're alive, baby, I can't believe it! I love you!"

You see John B raise his gun as Ward moves closer to him and Sarah. Before he could pull the trigger, Rafe fires his gun. You watch as the bullet hits Sarah in the stomach.

The man hits Ward in the head with his gun, causing him to fall to the ground before he turns the gun on you. The woman had a gun pointed at Rafe now and you couldn't help the tears of fear that fell from your eyes.

John B and Sarah drove off with the gold and the two people holding you captive got in their own truck and drove off as your escorts made their way down the road.

Rafe ran to you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. "Are you okay?" He whispered against your hair. You nod in response, trying to muffle your sobs against his chest. "It's okay, baby girl, I got you."

"Fuck, I'm sorry Y/N-" Ward began. He was quickly cut off by Rafe shaking his head. Now wasn't the time.

-

You were taken back to the police station while they tried to locate the gold. You clung tightly to Rafe as Ward gushed about seeing Sarah. "It was her, right? It was her?"

"It was her, yeah..." Rafe responded.

"She's alive," Ward smiles. "I don't know what the hell you were doing though, shooting a gun right at her. You're just lucky you didn't hit her."

"I did. I did hit her."

"You shot Sarah?!"

"I was trying to shoot John B, okay? It was an accident. She stepped in the way. I did not mean to shoot her."

"Okay, okay, okay. I'm sorry." Ward says.

"But I don't care that I did."

You look up at Rafe as the words leave his lips. "Rafe, that is your sister!" Ward scolds him.

"Sister? The one who stole from us? The one who had her boyfriend pointing a gun at us, dad!" Rafe shot back.

An officer came in and handed Ward his phone, showing him a picture of Sarah and John B. You tune them out as you keep your gaze on Rafe. He turns to look at you and you can see a darkness in his eyes. Something was wrong and it made you nervous.

-

Ward had gotten two hotel rooms while the police looked for the gold. You sat on the bed and flipped on the tv while Rafe paced around the room.

"Rafe, what's going on?" You ask. You could tell shit was starting to get to him.

"I'm not okay..." He finally said. Sitting down on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through his hair. "I don't know how much more of this shit I can take...I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Rafey..." You say softly, crawling over to him and climbing in his lap. He accepts you needily, pulling you close as he sniffles into your shoulder. He keeps one arm wrapped around you and brings his other palm to your swelling belly. You can feel his shoulders relax as he he breathes in your scent and feels his child growing inside of you.

"I want to be okay...for you and Wolf..."

"You will be, my love. Once we get the gold back...We'll get a place of our own..." You speak softly, raking your fingers through his shaggy hair as he leans into you. "We can paint Wolfie's room together...what color do you think he'll like?" You ask, trying to soothe your fiance.

"Purple..." He mumbles into your neck. "With dinosaurs."

You chuckle. "Of course he'll have dinosaurs."

You bit back tears as you held your sweet boy in your arms. You knew he was struggling and you wished so badly you could take that pain from him. You just wanted to marry Rafe, have your son, and live a normal life. But now you were tangled in this huge mess. Rafe was falling apart, you were almost six months pregnant. Ward was no help to his son. Sarah and her Pogue boyfriend were just toxic. You needed to step up and save your family.

You laid down with Rafe, running your long nails through his hair as you listened to the hotel TV play in the background. The sun began to set and Rafe drifted off to sleep.

You carefully took his arms off of you and crawled out of bed. You tried your best to be quiet as you made your way out of the room and headed towards Ward's room. You were surprised to find Ward already on his way to your room.

"Where's Rafe?" He questioned.

"He's asleep. He's not doing well..."

"What do you mean?"

"This shit is getting to him. What he's done...to Peterkin...to Sarah...All this...chaos." You say, gesturing at nothing. "He's not okay, Ward. And I really need him to be okay. Wolf needs him to be okay."

Ward sighed and looked down, offering a small nod. "You're right," He says, placing his hands on his hips. "You're right. Listen...I just got the call. We got the gold back. When we get home and I sort out all the little details, I'm going to set you and Rafe up with a fourth of it-"

"A third." You demanded.

"Y/n, I-"

"You wouldn't have it if it wasn't for Rafe. All the trauma falls on him. He's going to need therapy. We're going to need a house for our baby."

"But your dad-"

"I'll talk to my dad. What's important is that Rafe is okay and ready to be a father to his son. Your grandson."

Ward thinks for a second before nodding. You were calling the shots. You always did.

"By the way..." You added. "Rafe proposed."

Ward's eyes went wide as he turned to look at you. "You guys are-"

"Inlove. Pregnant. Killers. The least we can do is tie the knot and be a real family. I love your son. He's perfect. You've always been too focused on Sarah to realize that Rafe always has your back. But now he's going to be my husband and Wolf's father you'll have to fend for yourself. We need him now. We're his family. Wolfie comes first."

You could see Ward's eyes begin to water as he registered your words. You were right. You were completely right. Rafe always had his father's back. But now Rafe was going to be a father himself and he was going to put you and Wolf over everything. Including his own dad.

Ward nodded, biting back tears. "I'm going to make sure everything is set for our flight tomorrow. I'll see you two in the morning, okay?"

You nod your head as Ward walks past you. You move to go back to your room.

"And Y/n," Ward turns back to look at you.

You look over to meet his gaze.

"Wolf always comes first." He offers a small smile. "Rafe is going to be a great father."

You smile, placing a hand on your swollen belly. "Yeah, he really is." You agree before pushing the door open and heading back into your room to join Rafe in bed.

-

The flight home was a blessing. No nausea, no vomiting. You rested peacefully in Rafe's lap. When you arrived back in the OBX you and Rafe opted to go to your house. You wanted to be holed up in your room with your fiance for a few days.

"I'm gonna shower. Join me?" You asked, cheeky smile plastered on your face as you stripped out of your clothes.

Rafe bit his lip as he admired your naked body, perfectly tan and swelling with his child. "Go start it, I'll be in in just a minute, yeah?"

You giggle and run off to the bathroom.

Rafe leans over and grabs his phone, opening up the group text that lacked your number.

I proposed to Y/n

He pressed send and chewed on his thumb as he waited for a reply from your friends. He listened as the shower turned on and you stepped inside, overly excited to join you.

Courtney: WHAT?!

Kelce: When????

Topper: Holy shit

Rafe read the messages and began typing.

A lot to explain. A lot I need help with. Didn't even give her a ring yet. Court, help me pick one out?

C: Duh!! Meet me on the mainland tomorrow at 3. Top, Kelce, distract Y/n?

T & K: On it.

Rafe smiled, excited that your friends were so ready to help. He tossed his phone to the side before hopping up and running to the bathroom to join you.

"Aphrodite..." He cooed as he stepped into the shower and wrapped his arms around you, cupping your belly and leaning his face into your neck. "So perfect..."

You smiled, reaching back to lace your fingers through his hair. You felt so close to him as you placed your other hand over his on your belly. You needed him closer though.

"How are you feeling, my love?" You ask him. He hums happily into your hair as he rocks you back and forth. You smile, finding peace in knowing that, for right now, he's okay.

"Wanna make love to you..." He mumbles.

You bite your lip at his words, knowing you're about to get the gentle side of Rafe. As much as you loved him fucking you into oblivion, you also loved how slow and gentle he was when he really wanted to show you how much you meant to him.

He helped to clean you, getting all the spots you couldn't reach with your growing belly. You took your time washing him too, just enjoying the feeling of his naked body against yours.

When you finished your shower, Rafe stepped out and grabbed you your towel, wrapping you up in it and helping you dry off.

He picked you up bridal style and carried you back to your bed. He laid you down gently and hovered over you. He was hard, precum already dripping from his tip as he scanned your clean body. "So fucking beautiful..." He mumbled, placing soft kisses across your chest. "Never seen such a beautiful creature in my life..."

You hummed at his words, silently begging for him to touch you.

"How can I make you feel good, mama?" He asked, the vibration of his voice against your skin was intoxicating.

"Touch me, Rafe..."

Rafe smiled, bringing a soft thumb to your clit and circling slowly. You felt his index finger run up your entrance, collecting the juices that flowed so effortlessly out of your body.

He leaned his forehead against yours as he continued to thumb your clit. "So wet, my pretty girl..."

You could feel the twist in your stomach begin to form as he brushed over your throbbing clit.

"Ra-"

Rafe pulled his hand away, watching you almost come undone underneath him.

You whimpered at the sudden loss of connection. "Rafe, please..."

"Don't worry, baby girl. I'm going to make you cum. Just want you to cum on my dick, yeah?"

You nod your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "Need you, Rafe...please...please..." You beg.

"Awh, baby..." He whispers, running a thumb over the soft skin of your cheek bone. "You need me to make you feel good, huh?"

You knew this was feeding his ego but you didn't care. It was true. Your core was aching. You needed him inside you. "Hurts Rafey...please...need you...daddy..."

He groans at that. He was weak when you called him that.

"Anything you want, my angel..." He whispers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him and slowly pushing his cock inside you.

Your jaw falls open at the sensation of him stretching you out. You would never get used to his size.

"Feel okay, baby?" He asks.

"Mhmm," You moan.

Rafe begins to move slowly, pulling out of you and pushing back in. He moved so slow that you could feel everything, every inch of his skin filling you and your walls were already fluttering around him.

"You are ecstasy..." He whispers, thrusting into you slowly again. "Never felt so amazing...so in love...handcrafted by God herself...I'm so lucky....so in love....so...so...in love...."

You could feel tears escaping from your eyes at his words. He made love to you with so much emotion, so much love. He made you feel like you were the only two that existed, floating through time and space as one.

You didn't realize you were crying now, letting out a whimper into his shoulder.

He wrapped a hand around your thigh and brought your leg up, thrusting a little harder to hit you just right. "That's it baby...cum for me, my beautiful girl..."

You cried loudly as you released around his cock, the sensation was almost overwhelming. Rafe stayed buried inside you as you squirted on his stomach. His absolute favorite thing. Sending him into his own orgasm, you could feel his warmth filling you up and the sensation calmed you.

You finally met Rafe's eyes and you noticed the slight tears forming there.

"Why are you crying baby?" He asked you, forehead pressed to yours as he smiled at you.

"I-I just love-love you so fucking m-much..." You whimpered. The feelings you had for this man were so overwhelming you couldn't help but cry.

He reached a hand up and cupped your face as a tear fell from his eye too. "My pretty girl..." He whispered, pressing a kiss to your nose. "The moon, the stars, the planets, the heavens...you outshine all of them. You are the most divine creation. I'm not worthy to even be in your presence."

"Rafe-"

"Shhh...Aphrodite. Sleep my love."

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