#here enjoy this until i get the requests out

[megalony]

They Call Me Hangman

It's been a while, but here is a Jake Seresin (Hangman) imagine, I hope you will all like this request. Please let me know what you think.

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Summary: When (Y/n)'s ex starts to stalk her and follow her around, she eventually tells Jake. and he becomes protective over her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So what do you reckon Hangman, you ready to go home?"

A grin spread across Jake's lips as he hung his head down to avoid looking at the rest of the team.

Home. The place he had been fantasising about for the last three months. The place he was desperate to be; the place he had been aching to be since the moment he left.

The only part of the job that Jake didn't like was the fact that he had to be away from home- away from (Y/n)- for weeks and sometimes months at a time. He didn't like being away from her. It had been fine when he used to be someone who had casual flings and hook ups every other week and never had a steady girlfriend. But now he did. Now he had a fiancee waiting at home for him, and Jake hated to be away from her.

"More than ready." Jake lifted his head just a little and grinned over at Bradley as they headed across the base towards the gates.

They were being released. Sometimes leaving like this felt like they were being released from prison when they left the air base and those large metal gates reeled open to let them pass. It felt like they had been locked up rather than out on missions and out of the country most of the times.

The helmet in Jake's hand jostled as he reeled it in closer to his side and looped his bag higher on his right shoulder.

His eyes squinted in the midday sun as he lifted his head and looked around, wishing he hadn't stuffed his sunglasses in his bag earlier in his haste to pack up quickly. Most of the squad would be travelling home together. Bradley was driving Coyote, Bob and Phoenix were getting a taxi home together and the others all had people coming to collect them. Just like Jake.

He didn't have to hitch a ride from someone on the team or get a taxi to an empty home. Sometimes he used to go straight to the bar rather than going home so he wouldn't have to be met with a lonesome home, void and empty. Not anymore. His home was never empty and he now had someone waiting for him at the gates when he left.

A grin suddenly lit up Jake's face when he headed out of the gates and took a look around. He recognised that car parked on the right.

The bag on his shoulder slid down his arm until he could dump it on the dusty path and he tossed his red helmet on top of the bag so he could rush ahead.

His boots padded and thumped against the ground as he set off into a sprint with his eyes locked on that familiar frame that had been haunting his dreams for the last few months.

(Y/n) uncrossed her arms from resting over her chest and pushed up off the bonnet she had been leaning against. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes already the moment she saw Jake aiming her way. He was grinning from ear to ear, so much so that he could barely see a thing from how badly his smile was causing him to squint.

His hair looked perfectly swept over to one side, blond streaks glistening in the sunlight that reflected streaks of orange across each strand. The closer Jake got, the more (Y/n) could feel her heart thumping in her chest, threatening to break out of her ribcage.

He reached her in record time and (Y/n) barely opened her arms before Jake had hold of her.

He bent at the knees, deadlocked his arms around her waist and lifted her up off her feet. She had to loop her arms around his neck to stop herself from wobbling or swaying in his arms when he spun her round in huge circles like he was showing her off to the world and wishing her dress would fan around them in a display.

She laughed and tucked her face down into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent that felt so overpowering when she had him back in her arms like this. Compared to how (Y/n) had been hugging his shirts or lying on his pillow at night to try and feel closer to him when he wasn't there beside her.

It felt so good to have Jake's arms bound around her waist like this and have his hard chest pressing against her own. She could feel his chest rumbling with laughter that tickled her neck and his lips felt feverish and loving against her skin when he pressed hollow, wet kisses all up and down her neck.

"God, I missed you." His voice sounded a lot deeper than usual and had (Y/n) shivering in his arms.

Her hand moved to cup the back of his neck and she scratched her nails through the short hairs at the base of his head. While Jake finally lifted his head and stared up at her with that admiration in his eyes that made (Y/n) want to melt in his arms.

He was looking at her like she was an angel here on Earth, like she was the only person worth looking at. And he still hadn't put her down, his hands were clamped down on her hips and he had his chest tilted back to lean (Y/n) against him and keep her lifted up in the air so he could admire her.

When he finally set her down to her feet, (Y/n) felt like her knees were going to give way beneath her. She moved her hands round to cradle his neck in her hands and she stayed pressed up as close to his chest as she could manage until it felt like they were merging into one person.

Her thumbs traced along Jake's jaw until she had his smile committed to memory and she was sure no extra details had suddenly arisen on his skin while he had been away. He had no more lines around his eyes, no freckles suddenly appearing on his tanned skin. Those ruby red lips were the same as always, those blue eyes were just as intense and it looked like his hair hadn't grown an inch since he'd been gone, it had been cut expertly to match how he looked before he left.

"I missed you too." (Y/n) stumbled on her back foot when Jake swooped down and attached his lips to hers. She felt his nose rubbing against hers and his lips were bruising as he pushed into her like he was trying to flood her with his love and warmth and let her feel how much he'd missed her.

She felt his hand leave her lip so he could angle her head up in his direction and his thumb dragged along her cheekbone while their teeth meshed together and his lips seemed to devour every inch of her mouth.

Whatever breath she tried to take was swallowed up by Jake and the grin that was spreading across his lips when he felt her hand reach out to cradle his wrist that was against her face.

He nudged her back until her back and hips were met with the door of her car and she was sandwiched between Jake and the metal.

When a sudden coughing caught her ears, (Y/n) tried to squeeze Jake's wrist and lean her head back so she could glance to the right. The Dagger Squad were watching with bright eyes and broad smirks spread across their faces.

She felt Jake's lips attach to the corner of her mouth, desperate to steal her back into another kiss but he could see her attention was elsewhere. When Jake craned his eyes to the right, he barely spared the squad a glance before his eyes were back on (Y/n) and his fingers were curling around her chin, tilting her head back in his direction.

He didn't care if they all stood watching and gawping at them. Jake hadn't seen his girl in months, he was having as many kisses as he liked and he was attaching himself to her whether they watched him or not.

"Ignore 'em. I've waited long enough to have you back in my arms." He murmured against her lips with a gritty edge to his voice while he motioned one hand towards the team, silently telling them to move. They didn't have to stand and watch. They could all make their own way home and he would message them tomorrow.

Right now he was busy.

A groan tumbled past Jake's lips and his brows furrowed in his half-asleep state, wondering why he was awake. He was a deep sleeper at the best of times, he had to be when he had to share bunkers with others on the squad when they were away on deployment. If he didn't adapt he would never sleep with the sound of others moving about the room and snoring and making a general racket in the dead of night.

It took some effort to wake him, especially when he was home in the comfort of his own bed with no distractions or noises to focus on and keep him awake.

His eyes remained closed and he tried to burrow his face back down into the pillow and let himself drift back to sleep.

His mind was halfway back to shutting down when a sudden voice behind him caught him off guard.

"No!"

A shudder tore down his back and he hurriedly lifted his head from the pillow and cracked his eyes open, trying to adjust and see through the darkness in case there was an intruder in the room. It wasn't very likely. They'd never had a break-in before and they weren't in the kind of neighbourhood where that was a big worry.

The room was empty. Jake twisted around with a huff so he was no longer laid on his right side. He flopped onto his back and cracked his eyes open, trying to look around the room again find out what was going on. He could feel dread creeping through his system as he tilted his head to the left and looked over at (Y/n).

He narrowed his tired eyes and tried to look (Y/n) up and down, but he could tell instantly that she wasn't awake. That was somewhat of a relief, she wasn't panicking about someone breaking in or something happening in their home.

She was laid on her back with her head slightly turned towards the left so she was facing away from him. Her elbows were pinned into her waist and her lower back had arched up from the bed just a little making her spine curve, but every part of her was shaking.

It almost looked like Jake had woken up in the middle of an exorcism with how (Y/n) was pushing up from the bed and how badly she was shaking. When he dared to stretch his hand out in her direction, he realised she was beginning to sweat too.

His spine clicked into place as he pushed up into a sitting position and turned to lean over (Y/n).

It had been a while since she'd had a nightmare, at least from what Jake could remember.

"Baby?" His voice was flooded with caution and he tested the waters by reaching out for her. His thumb brushed across her jaw and his fingers pressed into the side of her neck to feel her pulse which was fluctuating but steadily rising higher. He could feel how her chest was rising and falling and the shallow, panicked breaths wheezing past her lips.

A guttural scream gurgled at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and sent Jake reeling back in shock while her body tremored and her arms jerked into her waist with her elbows jabbing into her sides.

Jake moved to flop onto his left side, resting his weight on his arm and his elbow which pressed down into the bed just beneath the pillow. And he reached his hand back out towards her, skimming his fingertips up and down her shoulder and down her arm to try and carefully bring her out of whatever nightmare she was trapped in.

He leaned across her with his chest lightly pressing down onto hers and he pecked her forehead when he noticed tears glistening in the corner of her eyes that finally started to flutter and her body seemed to break loose from her locked state.

Jake couldn't remember the last nightmare (Y/n) had, or why she had one. They used to be a common occurrence when they first got together, curtesy of her ex who hadn't been the nicest of people, far from it. But (Y/n) was comfortable and happy and flooded with love now she was with Jake and she barely suffered from nightmares or bad dreams anymore.

"It's okay, I've got you." Jake's voice was comforting and the feeling of his lips against her neck was like sparks igniting under (Y/n)'s skin and lighting up throughout her body.

(Y/n)'s eyes flickered but she could barely open them without seeing the remnants of her dream flashing before her eyes. She screwed them shut as tightly as she could, grumbling and gasping through clenched teeth as she continued to writhe and tremble against the mattress.

She wasn't sure whatever Jake said next over the blood pounding through her ears, but (Y/n) suddenly felt her right hand twitch against her thigh. It was enough to make her relieved and she tried to move it again, glad she wasn't becoming locked-in. She had suffered with sleep paralysis before and she didn't want to experience that again.

(Y/n) shifted her trembling hands and locked them around her waist as she tried to bring her knees up and curl in on herself. She could still feel herself trembling and the rest of her body felt stiff as if she had been covered in clay that had now dried and locked her in a plaster cast form. Even the tears rolling down her face felt like they were starting to dry out and make her face crack and tense up.

She was sure she was still shaking and she didn't dare open her eyes, but a deep warmth spread through her system when she felt a strong arm suddenly drape across her chest.

Jake's arm settled on her lower chest and when his hand reached up and cupped the side of her face, (Y/n) felt like bursting into another fit of tears. She leaned into the touch and managed a shaky kiss against his wrist while his thumb stroked along her chin.

He shuffled closer and flopped his head down on the very edge of his pillow so he was practically laid in the middle of the bed to be as close to her as possible. His chest moulded up against (Y/n)'s arm and he tilted his head down until his lips attached to her shoulder. He could feel the heat radiating off of her like she was a roaring fire and he inched closer, desperate to be embraced by the flames.

"Shh, you're okay." He murmured against her skin while he moved his right leg and gently hooked it over (Y/n)'s thigh so he was thoroughly enveloped around her like a weighted security blanket.

He felt the way (Y/n) turned her head down towards him and burrowed her nose and mouth against his hair and it made his arm tighten around her.

And the way her hands grabbed his arm and clutched him tighter made him sure that whatever nightmare she'd had was clearly a bad one. Her nails were scratching into his arm and when she kept tightening her hand on his arm, he sighed into her shoulder.

Without opening his eyes, Jake wriggled his arm out of her hold and removed his hand from her face so he could curl his fingers around the back of her hand. He squeezed tight and moved her arm down to her chest so he could keep hold of her hand and still have his arm hooked over her waist. His thumb stroked along the side of her palm and he started tracing his foot up and down her lower leg to give her something to focus on and distract herself with.

"Just a dream, you're alright now."

He pressed another flurry of kisses against her shoulder before he craned his head to smother his lips against the crook of her neck. Each breath softly fanned against her skin and warmed her up, not that (Y/n) needed to be any warmer, but it was still comforting.

Jake was wrapped around her. She was okay. She was safe.

***

"Baby, are you okay?"

Leaning to the right, Jake pressed his palm down on the kitchen counter while his other hand clamped down on his hip. He crossed one leg in front of the other and tilted his head to one side as he looked over at (Y/n).

He watched her carefully as she turned around so she was facing him. She had a light frown etched into her features as she set down the kettle and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Of course, why?" She gave him a funny look and shook her head as if asking why he would think something was wrong.

She was fine. She wasn't sick or feeling run down, she wasn't having a bad day and (Y/n) didn't think she had done anything to give Jake the impression that something was wrong. Her head ticked to one side and she waited for Jake to explain why he was under the impression that she wasn't okay or something was playing on her mind.

Her lips curved into a small, tender smile when Jake took a few steps forward so he was stood in front of her, but he didn't reach out for her like she thought he would. His arms moved to fold over his chest and he rose one brow as he stared down at her with worry in his eyes and his lips set into a frown.

"Last night… you haven't had nightmares like that in a while. What's going on?" Jake knew she usually told him if she was having nightmares and since he'd been back home, she'd had two in the space of one week.

That wasn't normal.

That was a sign that something was wrong and Jake wanted to know if this was something he needed to be worried about too. He hadn't seen (Y/n) scream from a nightmare like that in over a year, possibly longer.

Before he went on his last deployment (Y/n) had barely had any dreams or nights like that. And now he was home, she was suffering with them again. It made Jake wonder just how long the bad nights had been happening for and if she'd had a few while he'd been away and she neglected to tell him.

(Y/n) tilted her head down and reached her hands behind her to grip the counter so she had something to hold and focus on.

"It's silly." She shook her head as she spoke, but her heart started to double its pace when Jake's hand was suddenly beneath her chin.

He tilted her head back so she had no choice but to look up at him and see the way he was staring down at her. He had his chin aimed down near his chest, his brows raised and his eyes wide and trained in on her. And the way his lips formed such a tender little smile made (Y/n)'s knees threaten to give way. He didn't look like he was about to laugh at her or tell her she was being stupid or that she needed to explain herself now.

He looked like he would wait until the world ended if that was how long it would take for (Y/n) to feel comfortable and want to explain what was going through her head right now. Whatever it was, Jake knew it was something upsetting because she was clearly distressed and worried about something.

"I guarantee it's not. Tell me." He coaxed gently and brushed his thumb across the middle of her chin.

(Y/n) leaned her head into his hand, brushing against his touch while she tried to fathom how to find the words and tell Jake without feeling so stupid and paranoid.

"I just… I feel like I'm being followed, when I go out, you know? I got nervous. Must have triggered the dreams again."

(Y/n) brought her hand up to cup Jake's wrist while she focused on his fuchsia pink lips rather than daring to risk looking up into those ocean blue eyes. She didn't want to look up and lose her train of thought or dare see if he was smirking or rolling those lovely eyes if he thought she was being silly.

"And… and I've been getting strange calls," Her fingers curled tighter around Jake's wrist when he nudged her head back again and stared down at her with furrowed brows and a firm frown set in his features.

"What calls? What did they say?"

"Nothing. They either hang up, or I just- I hear this heavy breathing."

(Y/n) let go of Jake's wrist so she could loop both her arms around his waist and she gently pulled her head from his hand so she could push into his chest. She meshed her cheek up against his sternum and listened to the sound of his heartbeat that was thundering and picking up speed like he was halfway through a marathon.

She felt his arm bind around her waist with his fingers digging into her hip and his other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He tilted his head down and sighed into her hair before he began kissing the top of her head.

"Do you think it's him?" The dark, gritty tone to Jake's voice made (Y/n) shiver and cling to him tighter.

"I don't know."

She wasn't one hundred percent sure if it was her ex that was making the calls and following her around or if she was just being silly. But (Y/n) wasn't stupid. She was so sure she kept seeing a man hovering around. When she walked to the shops, when she was leaving work or going for a drink with friends.

Whatever she seemed to be doing, she could see that shadow in the distance. Always with his hands in his pockets and a dark shirt and jeans. It was the same colour hair as John. The same height and roughly the same build. Whoever it was always hung back, never got too close, but almost every time (Y/n) went out she found that shadow following her around at some point during her day.

The phone calls were new. Most of them were hang up calls, she said hello, asked who was there and then the line went dead. Then they changed. She got no reply when she demanded to know who was calling, but (Y/n) started to hear heavy breathing or sometimes a light, shallow pattern huffing into the receiver.

She had stopped answering the phone. If she didn't know the number, (Y/n) didn't answer. It was too risky when the phone calls were just making her paranoid and upsetting her.

"When did this start?" Jake leaned his cheek on top of (Y/n)'s head while he leaned back into the counter and tugged her with him so she was leaning up against him. He dreaded to hear that this had been happening for weeks while he had been away. If that was the case, (Y/n) should have told him when they had their video calls and long phone calls during the night.

"Maybe, three weeks ago?" She cringed when she felt the deep breath Jake sucked in and how he practically growled into her hair.

"You should have told me sooner. If it's him, I'll find him, I won't let him do this to you. I promise."

If this was her ex, then Jake would make sure John backed away. He wouldn't let anyone do this to (Y/n), but especially not him. Not after what he had put her through.

(Y/n) had left John when he became controlling and boardering on cruel rather than kind. She walked away from him and left without regrets, but John didn't take that so well. He had called her, constantly followed her, turned up at her home, her work. He caused a scene every time, especially when (Y/n) had to start involving the police.

Thankfully that had frightened him and when (Y/n) got a restraining order against him, he backed away altogether.

Jake had only seen her ex a few times and he had always made sure to steer (Y/n) away from him and stop any confrontation. But they had never had this kind of worry with him before. He hadn't been around (Y/n) in years, she hadn't worried about him since she and Jake started steadily dating.

He shouldn't know where they live, he shouldn't really know (Y/n)'s new place of work but she was sure he did, if indeed it was John who was starting to follow her around.

"It'll be okay." Jake wasn't going to let this continue. He would do whatever he could to stop this.

He would protect her.

***

"Is (Y/n) coming?"

A smile flooded Jake's face and he glanced over to the left where Bradley was leaning back against the pool table in the corner of the bar. His arms were folded over his chest and his lips were curved into a smirk.

"She should be here soon." Jake peered at the watch strapped to his wrist before he threw the last dart in his hand with a satisfied smirk when he hit a triple twenty.

(Y/n) said she would come down to the bar once she finished work and she should be here anytime around now. It took about ten minutes to walk from her work down here near the beach. Jake had offered to go pick her up once she finished, but (Y/n) said it was easier to walk than have Jake mess around to come pick her up.

Jake retrieved all three darts from the board, jotted down his total on the scoreboard and backed up to let Bradley have his turn. In two more goes, Jake would win this round and the drinks would be on Bradley.

He leaned back against the wall and waited patiently for his opponent to take his go. And he let his eyes cast over to the pool table where Coyote and Bob were trying to have a game. Neither of them were very good, Jake would be surprised by whichever one of them won.

He began tapping the end of a dart against his thigh, tapping out a rhythm that was stuck in the back of his head. But he looked up when he heard a low whistle and he watched Bradley nod his head in the direction of the main entrance to the bar.

Jake spun and craned his head round to the left and his eyes creased when he locked onto (Y/n) walking into the bar.

He pushed up off the wall and took his first throw at the dartboard before he moved his left arm out and reached for (Y/n) when she aimed his way. She weaved expertly through the crowd of people clustering around the bar counter, waiting to be served. And she moved rather quickly until she was right next to Jake.

Her hands curled around his arm that was stretched out in her direction and she pulled it into her chest, gluing herself up into his side.

"Just in time to see me win, baby." Jake threw his next two darts and leaned his weight forward onto his right foot.

But when he glanced his eyes down at (Y/n) who was still attached to his left arm, his winning smirk faded into a look of concern. His head angled to one side and his lips faded into a thin line when (Y/n) didn't pull away from him. Her nose and lips were pressing against his shoulder through his beige uniform but he could feel her shaking against him. Added with the fact that she hadn't spoken to him yet, Jake got the sudden unsettling feeling that something was wrong.

Jake waved his hand towards the board and gave Bradley a certain look. Their game would have to be put on hold for a few minutes.

He moved his right hand to hold (Y/n)'s arm and his lips pressed down to her temple as he gently nudged her back and backed up towards the windows at the end that looked out onto the beach. He carefully reeled his arm out of (Y/n)'s grip so both hands could hold her hips but he shuddered when her hands instantly clutched at his shirt like she was about to rip it right off him.

"What's up?"

"He- he was following me. I saw him."

(Y/n) dared to lean her head around Jake's shoulder to try and look behind him, but she knew he hadn't followed her in here.

She smothered her face into Jake's shirt when his hands clenched down on her hips and he twisted to look over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed and a look of panic spread across his face as he tried to scout through the familiar faces in the bar, desperately searching for the one that shouldn't be here. But he couldn't see him.

Jake moved his hand around to cradle the back of (Y/n)'s neck and he leaned down to attach his lips to the top of her head again. His other arm looped around the back of her waist and he tucked her closer into his chest until they were practically merging into one person.

"Did he say anything- he didn't grab you, did he?" His voice came out gritty and dark but he found himself narrowing his eyes and focusing on the beach through the bay windows in front of them.

Would that creep hang around? If he hadn't followed (Y/n) inside the bar, would be wait around out there to try and get to her when she came out? Maybe he would walk around to the back at the back of the bar and wait there or try and peer through the windows to find her.

Jake wouldn't put anything past her ex.

He couldn't see anyone. There were a few couples wandering the beach right down the other end where the tide was starting to drift out. But there didn't seem to be any lonesome people wandering nearby or hanging particularly close to the bar. That was good. That implied he wasn't hanging around..

(Y/n) shook her head and leaned back just enough to look up at Jake. "I think- I think the bar put him off, b-but he was definitely following me."

She wasn't going insane and she wasn't imagining anything. (Y/n) saw John. She saw her ex as clear as day and this time, he was closer. He wasn't ten or fifteen feet behind her, he wasn't hanging back around a corner like he had been when she first noticed someone following her around.

He was six feet behind her, and he kept getting closer. He ended up being almost within arms reach of her and (Y/n) didn't know what to do. She couldn't stop and confront him, she didn't know if he would grab her or run away or try and hurt her, she had no idea what he might do. And if she started to run down the street people would think she was insane and if John started running too, he would most likely catch her.

She had started to jog when she saw the bar was within reach and when she reached the doors, she blundered inside and stood in the doorway. She didn't see where John went.

He wouldn't follow her into a crowded place like this, it was too risky and there were too many people about who could help and shield (Y/n). But it had definitely been her ex who had been following her.

"Okay, it's okay. You're with us now, he won't get anywhere near you."

The whole squad was her within the bar tonight. If John tried to get in, he wouldn't get within ten feet of (Y/n). The squad would form a ring around her and shield her from him.

They wouldn't let him get close to her.

***

A soft hum vibrated at the back of Jake's throat and his head started to nod along to the music playing quietly through the speakers in the store. Both arms rested on the trolley handlebar and his upper body arched over so his lower back was sticking out while he slowly nudged the trolley down the aisle.

His head moved from side to side, peering on the shelves but he wasn't really paying much attention.

His eyes kept moving back towards (Y/n). He watched the way her hips swayed from left to right as she walked and how she started to shimmy her upper body and shoulders when the beat changed in the music. He loved to see her quietly whispering the lyrics, trying her best not to be too loud and start singing in the middle of the shop.

The list in her hand was becoming crinkled while her fingers tapped into the paper and she peered at the shelves, trying to find what they needed.

Neither of them were a fan of shopping. Whenever they came out, they stuck to the list, grabbed just what they needed and left. They never wasted a minute.

He followed along behind (Y/n) with a smile tracing his lips and a softness growing in his heart. When they headed down the next aisle, Jake pushed up from the trolley to stand straight and he reached out to take a few things from the shelves. The quicker they got what they needed, the sooner they could head back home.

He picked up a few sauce packets and placed them in the trolley before he moved to stand beside (Y/n). He reached his arm out and gently cupped (Y/n)'s hip and attached his lips to the back of her head.

"You good?" He peered over her shoulder to look down at the list in her hand, most of which was now in the trolley.

But when he looked back up at her, he realised (Y/n) wasn't looking at the list, nor was she looking at anything at the end of the aisle either. He felt her hand move to grab his wrist that was on the trolley and she leaned into his side, but she wouldn't turn her head in his direction.

"Jake…" (Y/n) nodded her head towards the other aisle in front of them as her body turned rigid and her blood ran cold.

John.

He was here. He was in the same shop as them. There was no trolley in front of him, no basket in his hand and it didn't look like he had picked anything up from the shelves at all. Both hands were tucked into his jacket pockets with his shoulders hunched up high and he was leaning against one of the shelves.

But it was the way his head was inclined to the side and how his eyes were focused in on them that made (Y/n) want to be sick.

He was staring directly at them.

Had he followed them to the shop? Did he know (Y/n) would be here with Jake, or did he think she would be alone Why follow them here? Why come to a public place where he couldn't exactly approach (Y/n) without making a scene or making a fool of himself?

"We're leaving." The affirmation in Jake's tone was definite and the stern, cold expression on his face made (Y/n) shiver.

She went limp, letting him reach out for her and manoevure her so he could guide them both out. Jake's hands moved to her waist and he gently tugged her to the left until she was stood in front of the trolley and her numb, trembling hands curled around the handle to keep herself upright so her knees didn't cave in beneath her and she let the list flutter down into the trolley.

She felt Jake move behind her so his chest was pressing down comfortingly into her waist and his lips attached to the back of her head. While his hands moved down and curled around hers on the handle. His elbows pressed into her arms and his frame completely engulfed around her, keeping (Y/n) safely tucked between him and the trolley so she was hidden and protected.

He steered the trolley towards the checkout but Jake kept twisting his head to peer over his shoulder. So far, John hadn't followed right behind them like a shadow. Jake couldn't see him, but that didn't make him feel much better.

He could feel exactly how (Y/n) was trembling in his arms and she could barely grasp the items from the trolley with how badly her hands were shaking and how numb her fingers felt.

Her eyes kept looking up at Jake and he hated to see the fear pooling within them. It made him dread to think what might have happened if (Y/n) had been out shopping on her own. John might have approached her. He might have tried to grab her or make a scene or frighten her.

Jake's jaw locked tight and his face set into a permanent disgruntled look while he tossed the items from the trolley onto the checkout.

His chest was heaving and his arms were tensing and tightening. How did that idiot know they were here? Why had he followed them? If he didn't and this was a coincidence then Jake liked that idea even less. He didn't like the thought of bumping into John like this. He didn't want to see him hanging around at all.

(Y/n) stayed close into Jake's side when they went through the checkout and her hand curled around his upper arm while the lady on the checkout began scanning everything through.

She perched her chin on Jake's shoulder while his fingers danced up and down her waist but she couldn't stop looking around. Trying to see where John was, wondering which aisle he was hiding out in and how close to them he was going to try and get. Every time a person came close to their checkout line, (Y/n) pushed herself into Jake until she was almost forcing him back into the counter. Each person passing by made her shudder and wince and coil in on herself.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home and lock the door and feel safe because right now, all she felt was vulnerable and observed.

She couldn't have been more relieved when they were done and the trolley was packed up again. She felt Jake's arm bind tightly around her waist while his left hand held the trolley and they headed out the shop.

Her cheek leaned against Jake's arm and she stayed tucked up into his side, but as they headed into the car park, (Y/n) couldn't help it. She had to look around. She had to glance behind them to reassure herself that John wasn't following after them. That he wasn't about to come out here and try to follow them home or make some kind of scene.

She wasn't sure what he was trying to achieve by following and calling her like this. If he was trying to frighten her then it was working wonders, but he wasn't going to get much out of this by following her around. (Y/n) would end up needing to call the police on him again and he might get a jail sentence this time. That wouldn't do him much good.

A whimper flooded past her lips and her steps faltered when she glanced towards the shop entrance.

John had followed them out.

(Y/n) stopped walking, feeling rooted to the spot as her hands fisted around the trolley and she leaned forward until the handlebar was pressing down into her abdomen.

She felt sick. She wanted to go home. She wanted security to somehow understand the situation and drag John back inside the shop for a talk. She just wanted him to go away and leave her alone. Why was that so much to ask?

"Go get in the car."

(Y/n)'s hands barely worked when Jake pulled one hand free from the trolley and dumped the car keys into her palm.

Her eyes flooded with worry and she looked up at him with a panic-stricken expression and her jaw hanging loose. She fisted the keys into her palm until they started to cut against her skin and she looped both arms around Jake's tense bicep, trying to pull him into her because she had no idea what he was going to do.

"Jake-"

"Go to the car; I don't want him anywhere near you." His free hand cupped the back of her neck and he pressed his lips to her flushed temple. Jake stayed there for a few seconds, breathing in her scent to try and calm himself down and stop (Y/n) from going into a panic attack. He could feel each shallow breath she took fanning against his throat and her trembling body was swaying and leaning more and more into him.

"W-what are you going to do?" (Y/n) almost dreaded to ask and she didn't dare look up at Jake as she spoke.

"I don't know yet."

His fingers brushed across the base of her neck but when his eyes glanced to the right, he felt like a fire was burning within his chest and setting his heart ablaze. John was aiming their way, much faster than he had been a minute ago.

Unravelling from (Y/n), Jake gave her and the trolley a nudge to get her behind him and more towards the car. If she got in the car and put the lock on then she would be completely safe and that was what Jake wanted. He didn't want John to get within five feet of (Y/n); he didn't know what he would do.

When she shakily hurried towards the car, Jake turned on his heels and aimed for the other man heading their way. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and his eyes squinted, zooming in on John like he was back up in his plane, locking onto a target to drop a bomb onto.

Once they were face to face, Jake uncurled his hands and planted his palms down on John's chest to give him a rough shove backwards. He revelled in how the other man stumbled and his feet skidded against the concrete to regain his balance again.

"Alright, what do you think you're doing?"

"What?"

The way John scrunched his nose and sneered over at Jake made Jake grunt and raise his shoulders high. This wasn't a game and Jake wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what John had been doing, but he wanted to know why and he wanted him to stop. Now.

"Following her around. I know what you've been doing, the silent calls, following her around town, all of it. And it stops now. Fuck off and leave her alone."

Leaning back, Jake folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head to one side as he watched the emotions wash over John's face in waves. Surprise, realisation, shock, panic. Everything flooded his eyes and caused his expression to momentairely slacken before he regained his posture again.

His arms tensed, his hands curled into fists and he took a step closer and leaned his face towards Jake with a menacing look in his eyes. That look might have frightened others, but not Jake. He wasn't intimidated by someone who thought scaring and stalking his ex was a power trip.

Jake would show him what actual power was, and how very little of it John truly possessed.

"Or what?" John rose a brow and managed a small smile that dampened when a cocky grin plastered across Jake's face.

He watched the way Jake's arms dropped from his chest and in less than five seconds, Jake reached out and grabbed him. His hands fisted in John's shirt just over his collar bone and he yanked him forward, tugging him off balance until the toes of his shoes were scraping the floor and his knees bent forward to try and stabilise himself.

Both his hands curled around Jake's wrists to try and make him relent, but Jake didn't feel the touch. He didn't care about the few people starting to murmur and pause packing their cars in favour of watching, anticipating whether or not a fight was going to break out in the car park.

All he cared about was the look of panic lighting up John's eyes and making sure that his message got through to this creep.

"Or I'll have to break you." Jake's smile turned sickly sweet and he yanked on John's collar to pull him that much closer until their noses were almost touching. "Stop calling her, stop following her and hanging around her work. You back the Hell away from (Y/n) or it'll be me following you around and believe me, if you piss me off I'll render you useless."

When he received no response, Jake let go of John's shirt and gave him a shove. He dropped his hands down to his sides but kept them curled into tense fists, just in case he had to throw a punch to show this idiot that he was being deadly serious.

"There's a reason they call me Hangman. Wanna find out why?"

[adore-laur]

DAD HARRY BLURB

someone requested them finding out the gender of baby #3 :) please reblog & give feedback!

——

Harry pulls into the parking lot of the bakery he used to work at irregularly, the faded burgundy bricks a familiar sight. It hasn't been revamped much from when he was in his mid-twenties and struggling to earn a livable wage by juggling pastry-making, bartending, and training to be a chef. While he's not necessarily fond of those stressful workplace memories, the one that stands out the most is when he saw your pretty face again in the bakery. It was fate at its finest, and the rest is cherished history. He'll always be grateful for this place.

Over five years later, he is back with exhilaration thrumming in his chest. He's older now, his life wildly different than before he met you—now, he has a steadfast romance that keeps getting better, two precious daughters, and another baby on the way, all in a house where the ocean breeze kisses his skin every morning. He never envisioned being lucky enough to live out his dream so profoundly.

Harry steps out of the car, enjoying the subdued sunshine. He spins his key ring around his pointer finger, a smile already lifting his lips as he shoulders the front door open. The scent of baked bread and hints of vanilla greets him, along with the bakery's owner, Doreen, who gives him a cordial wave. She's a short woman in her sixties who has been running the place since before Harry was born. The long grey braid tapering down her back swings back and forth as she wipes the storefront windows with a rag. An apron is tied around her waist, the well-worn fabric dusted with flour and smears of blue frosting. She hasn't changed one bit.

"Hello, dear," Doreen says, briefly pausing her cleaning to kiss his cheek. Even on her tiptoes, Harry has to bend down to close the gap. "I know something you don't!"

He inhales deeply, that warm thrum returning. "You sure do."

She grins mischievously. "It's in the fridge, top left shelf. Help yourself."

Harry walks toward the two-section glass fridge behind the counter. A week ago, you did a blood test that could detect the baby's gender earlier than an ultrasound. At your request to keep it a secret for now, the obstetrician wrote the results down and sealed it in an envelope, which Harry then brought to the bakery and ordered a two-tier vanilla cake with either pink or blue frosting inside. Only the baker would know until it was sliced into by you and him. You both wanted a different type of reveal this time around. Last pregnancy, it was kept a surprise until birth. You're both too excited to wait this time.

"Thank you again for doing this," Harry says, taking the white bakery box with a yellow sticky note that has Styles Family scribbled on it. "If you ever need extra help around here, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"Oh, don't worry about me." Doreen places her hands on her hips, winking at him. "I'm sure you have your hands full at home."

He laughs softly. "I do, but they're wonderful little helpers. I could always bring them in, even if it's just to taste test."

"How old are they now?"

"Four and one. Our oldest is in her first year of preschool."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "Goodness, how time flies. Plus a bun in the oven?"

"She's eleven weeks," he replies, smiling proudly.

"How is she feeling?"

Harry thinks back to when he left this morning, leaving you lying in bed sandwiched by the kids still in their pajamas. "Pretty fatigued, but she knows what to expect by now. She's doing everything she can to stay motivated."

"Well, I was happy to hear the news and so honored to be one of the first ones to know such a special secret," Doreen says, pinching his earlobe affectionately. "I baked my best cake for you. Oh, that reminds me!" She scurries over to a nearby table to retrieve a wrapped plate with an assortment of desserts, no doubt baked by her. "These are for you and your girls."

Harry's heart swells, and he pecks her cheek with gratitude. "We appreciate it so much. And I'm serious: I'll put my old apron back on if you need me to. I still know how to make a mean batch of macarons."

She shoos him away with her cleaning rag. "Go on, you silly boy. Be with your family."

He beams on his way out of the bakery, wanting nothing more.

——

Harry arrives back home in the late morning, feeling grateful that it's the weekend. The house is quiet, and he'd bet money that his girls are in the same position he left them an hour ago. Arguably, that's what Sundays are for—cuddles under warm sheets and no obligation to be anywhere else.

The front door snicks shut, and he walks the short distance to the kitchen to set the cake box on the island. His fingers itch to open it and sink a knife into the layer of frosting, but he refrains. The time will come.

Instead, he heads to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light. Sure enough, you're curled up with two little girls tucked into the outline of your body. Harry commits the view to memory before sitting on the edge of the mattress. You stir awake from a light sleep, your eyes opening and finding him. The first-trimester fatigue is obvious, and it's as endearing as it was the first time.

"Morning, lazybones," he says softly.

You yawn, stretching your arms, and the fierce urge to hold you close and never leave this bed rushes through him. "Hi. Did you get the cake?"

"I did." He strokes the bridge of your nose with his knuckle, sensing your lethargy. "Feeling okay?"

"So-so. I was a little queasy earlier."

"Did you eat yet?" he asks, and you shake your head in response. "Want me to make something?"

"I don't have much of an appetite, but I'm sure the girls would love a big breakfast," you say. Harry smiles, taking a moment to admire their innocent faces still deep in sleep. He hopes they're having pleasant dreams.

"Okay. I'll be in the kitchen."

"Wait for me, please." You carefully sit up with a dazed and adorable look in your eyes.

Harry sighs fondly and says, "You need to listen to your body. Don't resist rest."

Pouting, you shed the blanket and swing your legs over the bed, ignoring his sensible advice. "But my body's telling me that it misses you."

"Sweetheart..." He cuts himself off, realizing he has no way to refute that. He knows wholeheartedly because he feels it too. Working full-time and coming home to parent with you leaves little room for quality time together. Consequently, there was never time to squeeze a babymoon in the past four years. He'll have to ponder that idea more in-depth, especially now that your pregnancy is swiftly heading to the halfway mark. Probably smart to plan a trip during that sweet spot, when you're not too physically uncomfortable. He wants to have fun with you, away from the kids. Explore an exotic place and luxuriate in romance with no one around.

"Harry?" you say, pulling him out of his titillating trance. He was just beginning to envisage you naked on a canopy bed in Fiji, the evening sun casting over your dips and curves. Lying there all majestically, waiting for him to feast on you. Paradise personified.

"Sorry, just musing." He clears his throat and thinks of innocent things, like buttermilk pancakes and hash browns.

"Uh-oh," you reply playfully before standing up and leaving him with a tempting view of your bare legs. As you freshen up in the bathroom, Harry leans over his daughters and kisses their heads. They both stir minimally, their disheveled curls rustling against the pillows. He wonders if his genes will ever have mercy in that department when the next baby arrives.

Eventually, you follow Harry into the kitchen, and there's a familiar thrill in having a brief window of alone time before the kids require attention. He smoothly pulls you into his embrace and asks, "How's our baby?"

You look down at your stomach and lift the silk camisole covering it. "Finally making an appearance, I think."

Pulling back slightly, Harry assesses the tiny protrusion—it's much tinier than the last two were around the same eleven-week mark. "Oh, hello there," he murmurs with a winsome smile. The proof of you carrying a child is nearly unnoticeable, at least in a physical sense, but the smallness keeps it a secret from any outsiders. Inside this home, it's his to savor.

You laugh, silently marveling over it with him, then glance at the cake over his shoulder. "We could have cake for breakfast."

Harry pulls you close again and waddles your conjoined bodies forward until your back meets the island. "That depends on if you want to find out now or later. It's up to you."

Looping your arms around his neck, you contemplate for a few seconds before saying, "Let's wait until later tonight—at least until I'm feeling better."

"Absolutely. Maybe we can head down to the beach at sunset with the girls. Have a mini celebration."

You nod. "I'd like that."

"Done deal." The thin strap of your silk camisole slips down your shoulder, and Harry groans when the curve of your breast peeks out. He cups it in his palm, and your body reacts by pressing into him even further. "So, what's your final prediction?" he asks, kissing the tender flesh there and readjusting the strap. Focus, he tells himself. The girls need breakfast.

You make a show of thinking long and hard. "Unforeseen quadruplets? I'd be a medical mystery."

Harry narrows his eyes, suppressing a grin. "Hysterical." He widens his stance until he's the same height as you. "C'mon, give it to me."

"Final prediction is... girl," you say assuredly. That word tugs at his heartstrings, the ones belonging to the instinctive protectiveness he has toward his daughters.

"I'm sticking with boy," he says for the sake of a friendly husband-wife competition.

You quirk your brow and slowly back out of his embrace. "I can't believe you're not trusting my womanly intuition."

"I've guessed correctly the last two times," he reminds you. "Don't underestimate my mojo."

"All right. Best of luck, baby."

——

Harry shivers in an overdramatic fashion while holding his youngest daughter, and she giggles, thoroughly entertained. He always enjoys the walk down to the private beach, where the expansive view never ceases to amaze him. At sunset, it's even more phenomenal. The wind carries a coolness to it, and the sky transpires into heavenly hues of lavender, teal, and marigold. No matter the weather, he makes an effort to watch it fade into the night alongside his family.

Tonight is extra special, and as he glances back at you trailing behind with the cake box and two empty champagne glasses in one hand and your eldest's small hand in the other, his excitement intensifies. He was patient all afternoon, even crawling back in bed with you and the girls to bask in a catnap under the warm sheets. Afterward, the laziness continued as you all watched a movie together on the couch and ate takeout. Now it's time for dessert.

Near the shoreline, Harry sets down his youngest and removes the quilted blanket from around his shoulders. He shakes it out and watches her toddle on the sand. She just started walking on her own last month, and he can never be too cautious with her curious nature. There's nothing more bloodcurdling than a child wandering off without a sound.

The girls go off to play with their dolls near the sandcastle they built near the hammock. It's far enough from the waves for them to be semi-unsupervised.

Harry lays the blanket down and sits. You join him, passing over the glasses. He brought a bottle of grape juice as a substitute for wine.

After pouring juice into each glass, Harry hands one over to you and lifts his in the air. "Cheers to growing our beautiful family. Cheers to being happy, healthy, and perpetually sleep-deprived. We make an amazing team, and... I just love you. Inexplicably so." He clinks his glass with yours and takes a hearty sip, never taking his eyes off you.

"Cheers," you say, letting the tart liquid travel down your throat.

Harry rubs his palms together and says, "Ready?"

You give him a smile only he knows the meaning of. "Let's have some cake."

He slides the box over and fingers open the seal. When he lifts the top, you shuffle forward and melt into his side, staying there as he stares at the coating. It's only plain white buttercream frosting with swirly pink and blue dollops caressing the circular edge, but the part that makes him teary-eyed is the cursive icing that reads Baby Styles. Although it's his third and most likely last child, the feeling never gets old. Every newborn experience challenges him in an entirely new way. It's unexpected, enlightening, and emotionally rewarding. And to do it by your side is the greatest accomplishment he'll ever know.

Wiping the corners of his eyes, Harry picks up the knife. You place your hand over his grip on the handle and kiss his bicep. "No peeking," you say, closing your eyes.

Harry does the same and rests his forehead against yours. Slowly, he maneuvers the knife to blindly cut a triangular slice. His heart pounds in anticipation. The bet he made with you doesn't matter anymore. Either outcome, he'll be ecstatic.

"You look first," he whispers, his lips brushing yours with each syllable.

"No, you do it," you whisper back.

"You know, we never discussed what the prize is for whoever guessed correctly," he says, shifting the knife so the slice breaks free.

"I know what I want."

"Yeah?" he murmurs, nudging his nose with yours. "Tell me.”

"I want to go on vacation somewhere far away, just me and you."

"Remember what happened last vacation?" His eyes are still closed, and vivid memories play behind his lids.

"Yes, I do,” you say. “You got me pregnant, but that was only because there was something in the Italian air."

He laughs and captures your lips in a quick kiss. "Is that the only reason? I seem to recall you—"

"Daddy, what flavor is the pink stuff?"

Harry's eyes shoot open, and for a split second, he sees that yours are still shut as his head whips toward his eldest daughter skipping over with her favorite doll in tow. His youngest follows her, picking up handfuls of sand along the way.

Brows furrowed, he looks at you again to find you staring at the cake with a dumbstruck expression. He honestly forgot it was there, too caught up in the intimate moment he was sharing with you, where the darkness enhanced the warm sensations of his skin touching yours, the grape scent of your breath, and the way your sensual words sent shivers down his spine.

All that floats away when he sees creamy pink frosting in the middle of the sponge cake. It's a delicate shade of pink similar to the newborn hospital hat they put on his firstborn daughter. Similar to the sunrise the day his second daughter decided to come into the world.

Pink. Another baby girl.

Making a spontaneous choice, Harry pulls his sweater off and sprints full speed toward the ocean, shouting with glee. He hears your shocked guffaw as he tumbles forward into the shallow water. The coldness is a shock to his system, but it doesn't compare to the fact that you're having a girl. He hoped for it deep in his heart. He dreamt it.

You walk over to him, eyes glassy and holding a large forkful of cake. "I was right!"

Harry heaves big breaths, adrenaline rushing through his blood vessels. His sweatpants are soaked, but it's the last thing on his mind. He clumsily reaches you and places his palms on your stomach, kissing it repeatedly. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he says, overwhelmed with emotion. He looks up, his next words intended for you. "You made our dreams come true, baby. And I don't know how to repay you, but I’ll try. I swear it.”

"You've already repaid me, Harry, by being the most devoted and dependable father to our girls."

He smiles, his cheeks hurting. "Three girls now. Holy shit.”

You collapse in his arms, crying and laughing with happiness. He catches you and gently brings you down to the sand. The wind whips around both your bodies, not able to penetrate the heat of this unforgettable moment.

Amidst bites of cake and promises of a couple's vacation to wherever your heart desires, a shout of "It's strawberry-flavored!" carries over, nestling deep in Harry’s heart.

Life couldn't be sweeter.

——

[burrowdarling]

"Don't act so innocent.."

Summary: As things get a little heated, you get the courage to ask for something new you want to try. Requested by @samanthamark5

Pairings: lsu!joe x shygf!reader

Warnings: oral (male receiving), praise, descriptions of sex, MDNI

Note: Hi! Here's the first request based off of this prompt list. It's very loosely LSU Joe if you squint, really just the fact that they're in college. I hope you all enjoy it! Requests for it are still open!

Word Count: 1.7k (this was meant to be a blurb, I might've gotten carried away..whoops)

Check out my Masterlist here!

Joe always had this presence about him, with him being the star quarterback of the football team for LSU. Everyone’s eyes were always drawn to him when he entered the room, in class or otherwise. That was especially not different when the two of you started dating. The spotlight was never really your thing, opting more for small groups of friends or staying in with your books. Being with Joe has started to push you out of your comfort zone, but that didn’t mean it was going to happen overnight. A prime example was the party that was happening tonight, which you were pleading to stay home from.

“C’mon baby, I wanna have my girl there with me” Joe pleaded.

“You know parties aren’t really my thing Joey, can’t I just wait here till you get back?” you pleaded back, just as whiney as he was being.

He didn’t give you an answer, just stared at you with a look that said ‘does it look like I want that as an option?’ Joe pushed off the door frame to his room and walked over to where you were sitting on his bed, your current read opened in front of you. He climbed onto it, crawling up to you until you were underneath him, tossing the book to the side in the process. 

“Joe! I was in the middle of that, I didn’t even get to mark my page” you exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed with all of the attention he was giving you.

You and Joe had been dating for a few months, but he had significantly more experience than you. Only having one real boyfriend before him, he wasn’t the most giving in the head department, nor did he ever really want anything from you. That relationship didn’t last long before he broke things off with you, proceeding to get with some cheerleader shortly after.

Joe has been tender with you, taking things at your pace and knowing when to test your limitations within reason. He knew your body better than you did, knowing how to get any type of reaction from you that he desired. He was extremely giving in bed, always making sure you were the first to finish. One thing you had yet to try together was you taking control for a change: giving Joe a blow job.

With his arms caging you in on either side of your head, his body weight pressing you down into the mattress, you felt stuck in the best way possible. Joe always knew how to get a reaction from your body. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his erection through his jeans, causing your cheeks to flush and your mind race.

“Can you feel what you do to me, at least let me make you feel good before I leave. That way I can leave with the taste of you on my tongue” Joe said, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline, making his way to your lips.

It felt like now was as good of a time as any, trying to block out any of the anxious thoughts about what his reaction could be to your request. You tentatively reached your hand between your bodies, palming his hard on which earned you a deep groan from above.

“I wanna try something tonight instead” you said, your voice slightly wavering as you looked into his eyes peering into yours above you. The blue of his eyes was something you had grown to find a sense of comfort in. 

“And what would that be, baby?” Joe said with a sense of care lacing his voice, a knowing smirk gracing his lips.

“Are you really gonna make me say it?” you asked, feeling yourself wanting to abc out, to make the awkwardness go away.

“Mhm. If you wanna do it, I wanna hear you ask for what you want. It’s something we're working on, remember?”

You nodded shyly, remembering how Joe has made it his mission to bring up your self confidence. It started with some smaller tasks like asking for help when you needed it or not being scared to take charge of a situation. When you guys finally slept together, it’s since spread into the bedroom. Joe always makes sure you feel safe and secure, wanting you to always feel comfortable to tell him anything. He always wants you to ask for what you want and not be afraid to bring anything up.

“I’m not gonna say no sweetheart, I just wanna hear the words come out of your pretty mouth” Joe said, raising a hand to graze your cheek.

His words caused you to feel even more flustered, feeling the need for Joe growing by the second.

“I wanna try to blow you” you said, feeling the heat rise on your cheeks at your attempt to come off as confident as you could.

“Go right ahead, I won’t stop you” Joe said, moving off of you to lay back against the headboard next to you, slipping his shirt off in the process. 

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage and fighting down your insecure thoughts before exhaling and shifting closer to Joe. He helped you to work his pants down, leaving them at his ankles before kicking them off. You took his boxers with them knowing you needed to do it all in one go or you’d feel like you’d chicken out of the whole thing. The sight of Joe’s hard cock sent heat to your center, no matter how many times you’ve seen it before.

You took him in your hands, Feeling the nerves come across in your actions, Joe placed a reassuring hand on the back of your head as he directed you towards him for a kiss.

“No need to be nervous baby, it’s just me” Joe spoke gently, moving his hand to stroke your cheek lovingly.

WIth a nod of understanding, you took the leap and leaned down to place a kiss to the tip. You took him in your mouth the best you could, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit. 

“You’re doing such a good job, babe. Know how to make me feel so good” Joe moaned, head thrown back in pleasure.

The sounds Joe was making above you were egging you on, taking in all of the praises that were coming from him. You continued to take him, getting past the awkward feeling of having him in your mouth fairly quickly. You would occasionally pop off to lick a stripe from his base to the tip before taking him again.

“I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby, I swear” Joe groaned.

You took that as your cue to keep going, knowing that you were bringing him pleasure. 

“Where do you want me to finish?” Joe rushed out, clearly feeling close to the edge,

You came off of him, continuing to stroke him as you spoke. You were taking the moment to use your last bit of courage to ask for what you wanted.

“Right here” you said gesturing to your chest with a glimmer of lust in your eyes, earning a deep groan from him in response. 

You knew how much Joe loved your boobs, mentioning in the past that this was something he’d love to do when the time felt right to do it. You slipped off the bed to the floor, getting on your knees ready to take what he would give you before he could give you a proper response. Joe took over then, giving you the opportunity to prepare yourself. You slipped your shirt off, trying to not feel so exposed in front of him in the position you were in. The sight of him standing above you stroking his cock drove you wild, it felt as if all of your insecurities had flown out the window in that moment. With a few more strokes, Joe was finishing with a loud moan, covering your chest.

Joe sat on the edge of the bed, taking a minute to compose himself. Before he could make any other moves towards you, you stood up in a hurry.

“I’ll be right back, i’m just gonna go to the bathroom” you rushed out and made your way quickly, attempting to fight off any other insecure thoughts before they could come up as you felt your shyness creeping back in. You heard a faint ‘okay’ as you shut his bathroom door.

You walked out of the bathroom after getting cleaned up, your cheeks hot showing the brightest shade of red from everything that had just happened. You stood timidly in the door of the bathroom while Joe sat on the edge of his bed on his phone. You didn’t know exactly where you stood at this moment, wondering if he would stay or go out. You secretly hoped he would opt to stay with you, but wouldn’t want to force him even after everything. You felt too tired after all of that to go out and be social with other people, especially ones you didn’t know. He had pulled his underwear back on, leaving him clothless otherwise. When he heard you, his eyes looked up and a smile crossed his face. 

“I hope you have fun. Can you let me know when you’re on your way, if you remember?” you spoke, unsure of where to put your eyes. 

Joe walked over to you, placing a hand under your chin to lift your eyes to meet his own. A shiver ran down your spine at the look in his eyes.

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago” Joe said with a teasing smirk on his lips. 

He placed a kiss on your forehead, his other hand falling to your hip. You cheeks felt as if they were the brightest shade of red they had ever been, letting the images of the past few moments replay inside your head. You felt a shiver creep up your spine as your need for him came back full force.

“If you think I’m leaving after that and not giving you anything, we’ve got a lot more work to do with you”.

[zegrasdrysdale]

hi!!! i’m a big sucker for secret relationships lol could you please do a matthew knives one where she is mitch marners younger sister and they have been secretly dating and mitch finds out in a bad way and it’s kind of angsty but then everything works out? thank you for your time!!

[ my little secret ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew and his girlfriend accidentally expose their entire eight month relationship after he gets hurt during a game, and Mitch isn't very happy about it

warning(s) : angst galore (but w a happy ending), mentions of injury, injured!kniesy, occasional use of y/n

author’s note : wanted to write something angsty and decided to knock out a request at the same time. enjoy and sorry this request took so long <33

༺═──────────────═༻

The game is going okay. Right now, the Leafs are up 2-1 against rival Boston. Her brother has assists on both Toronto goals while Matthew scored the go-ahead goal about halfway through the third. The Leafs defense is playing great defense and blocking shots from the Bruins. The forwards are keeping Boston from getting any momentum when they hop over the boards for each shift.

This is probably the best the Leafs have looked all season against a surging Boston team that struggled at the beginning of the season.

It's not long after Matthew scores the go-ahead goal that Boston begins to show some frustration. Their physical players begin to get a little more physical, laying more hits on the Leafs players. The Leafs are taking those hits like champs and some are returning the same physicality.

Until Brad Marchand lays a hard hit on Matt and he lands awkwardly on his outstretched arm. Her boyfriend curls up on the ice around the arm he landed on and a whistle is blown. A member of the training staff is immediately on the ice to look at Matthew.

She stands up with the crowd around her, hands covering her mouth as she waits for Matt to stand up. The crowd at Scotiabank Arena is so quiet, she should hear a pin drop from the other side of the stands.

It feels like an eternity later when Matt gets up on his own. The crowd claps for him, but she's too focused on the fact that he's holding his left arm close to his body. Mitch skates right behind him with his stick, which is hands to the equipment manager while Matthew goes down the tunnel.

With about five minutes left in the period and the Leafs up in the game, she makes her way down to the hallway that contains the in-arena gym, locker room, equipment room, and the athletic training room where Matt probably is.

She shows her credentials before she's let into the hallway. The horn on the ice sounds and the crowd cheers, signaling either a goal or a Leafs win. She's not sure how much time has gone by by the time she is standing outside the training room door.

After knocking lightly, she pushes open the door a little bit to get a look at her boyfriend. She sees Matthew on one of the tables half undressed. He only has on his shorts, socks, and skates. His gear is on the floor with his jersey and compression shirt.

The doctor notices her before Matt does. "Sorry, but you can't be he-"

"It's fine," Matt winces as the doctor presses on his wrist. "She's here for me anyway. Come on in, (Y/N)."

She steps into the medical room and walks up to Matt on the table. His doctor keeps pressing on and examining his wrist. He has Matt wiggle his fingers, tests his wrist flexion, and he finds the most painful points.

All while Matt winces in pain. A second horn goes off and the crowd above them cheers. The song that usually plays after a Leafs win starts to play, which means the boys will be making their way back to the locker room any second.

"Well, good news is that your wrist isn't broken," the doctor explains to Matt. "But I do think you have a mild sprain. I'd like to get scans done in the morning to confirm."

"And how long will I be out?" Matt asks.

"With rest and recovery, two weeks minimum," his doctor replies. "If you come back too early, it could be longer so I suggest staying off the ice until I clear you to return to practice. We'll come back and reassess a week from tomorrow once I confirm the sprain then come up with a plan to return to play. Until then, rest. I'll give you a brace you can use for the next few days."

Matt nods and the doctor walks off to find a brace that he'll use for a while. She intertwines her fingers with his as soon as the doctor has his back turned to them. He looks up at her with big, sad eyes. She frowns at the sight of a sad Matthew Knies.

This is a risky moment for both of them given where they're at, but she couldn't help but touch him and show him that she's here for him since she can't say anything right now. Not with the team doctor ten feet away from them.

The doctor turns around and she pulls their fingers apart. Matt holds out his injured wrist so the doctor can show him how to put the brace on. "How does it feel?" he asks Matt. "Not too snug?"

"Nope," he replies. "Comfortable."

"Good," the doctor says. "I want to see you back here in the morning for some x-rays and other tests to rule out breaks or internal damage. Okay?"

Matt nods and the doctor claps him on the back. He leaves the room, probably to go tell the coaching staff about his injury. Matt sighs and reaches to grab his compression shirt when he hops off the table.

She glances at the door to make sure no one walks in before she pulls Matthew into a hug by his torso once his shirt is on.

"I'm so sorry you got hurt, Matty," she softly says into his chest. "That hit looked bad. It could've been so much worse. I'm so glad it wasn't."

"I'm still benched for at least a week," Matt sighs. He runs his fingers through her wavy locks before he cradles her head against his body. "I'll be staying here while the boys go out on that west coast roadie. I was looking forward to some California sun after a few inches of snow over the weekend."

There's a hint of amusement in his voice, but she doesn't find it very funny. She peels her face off his chest and looks up at him. "It's not funny, Matthew," she tells him. "You got hurt. You avoided what may have been a season ending injury, but you still got hurt. None of this is very funny to me, and you're cracking jokes about missing out on the California sun."

He realizes what his words were and quickly becomes apologetic. "I'm sorry, baby," he says. "No injury is funny, even one as minor as mine."

"I thought you were really hurt, Matty," she admits. "When you were down on the ice. I thought that something was broken or torn while you were lying there. What if this was worse than a wrist sprain and you were making jokes about missing games?"

Matthew's healthy hand slides to cup her face. He rubs his thumb along her cheekbone and frowns. "I'm okay," he whispers to her. "I'm okay. Nothing is torn or broken or dislocated. It's just a sprain. It's not season ending and I'll be back on the ice in a week. It just sucks that I'm out at all."

She presses her face back into his chest and he engulfs her in a hug. He buries his head into her hair and presses a kiss to her temple. "You're okay," she echoes. "Thank God you're okay."

He softly hums into her hair. She looks up at him at the same time he tilts her head up. Matthew leans down since his skates give him a little extra inches to his six-foot-three frame. Their lips meet in a soft kiss when she gets on her tiptoes. Her hands grasp at his shorts to give her some stablity.

They stand like that longer than they probably should, but she can't help but kiss him. All her anxiety about the last fifteen minutes melt away the longer the kiss goes.

The door opens and she hears her brother's voice. "How you doing in here, Kniesy?" Mitch questions. They both jump away from each other and look at Mitch, who stops in his tracks when he sees his little sister in the training room with his teammate. "(Y/N), why are you-- with Matthew? Kissing Matthew?"

She quickly looks between her brother and her boyfriend. "I, um ..." she trails off. Then Mitch angrily starts toward the two of them with a look in his eyes that she's seen before when the two of them caught an ex cheating on her. "Mitchy, stop." She tries to push against him with little success.

"My little sister?" Mitch asks as he shoves Matthew. "Are you kidding me?" Matt stumbles backward a little bit since he's still in his skates. She grabs at Mitch's t-shirt to try and stop him, but he overpowers her for a second time.

"Mitch," she tries again. "Enough. I'm an adult. I'm allowed to be with whoever I want to be with."

Mitch looks back at her. "This is my teammate, (Y/N)," he tells her. "My goddamn linemate most games, and you're in here kissing him? He's one of my closest friends and you're, what, hooking up with him behind my back?"

"It's not like that-" Matthew tries to say.

"And you," Mitch interrupts. "My little fucking sister. I trusted you and you go and do something like this? Are you actually kidding me? God, I can't believe you. Either of you. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? That my sister and one of my teammates snuck around my best for who knows how long. Snuck around at my house, my second home."

She looks at Matt, who looks genuinely terrified of what's happening right now. "Mitch, can you listen to me for a second before you start talking about something you know nothing about?" she asks. "There is a lot more to this story than you think."

Her brother rubs his face and shakes his head. "I don't think there's anything you can tell me that I don't already know-"

"I am in love with him, Mitch!" she shouts. "We're not just hooking up or anything like that. We're actually together. I love him and he loves me. If you would listen instead of assuming things then you'd know that."

It looks like someone slapped her brother across the face when she admits to him that she loves Matt. His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. He looks between the two of them. She takes a few steps backward so she's standing beside her boyfriend while her eyes stay on Mitch.

Mitch blinks at them for a second before he says, "I need a little bit. I just need a second before we continue this conversation because I'm beyond angry and feeling very betrayed right now. Do what the two of you want because you're going to do it anyway but please do not talk to me while I'm on this roadie. Okay?"

They both nod and Mitch turns to walk out of the room. She lets out the breath that she was holding before she looks up at Matthew, who has color in his face again.

"We should've told him when we got together," Matt tells her without looking at her. "He's right. He's one of my closest friends and he's my linemate on the ice. I shouldn't have messed with that chemistry. It might affect our on ice performance, which is going to mess with the whole team's performance. Oh my God."

"Matthew," she sighs as she steps in front of him. "Hey. I made that choice too. He's my brother and I thought he'd get angrier if we told him at first. These eight months have shown us that we love each other and that I want this forever. If we told him at first, it wouldn't have given us that chance. I don't regret not telling him because we had that time to ourselves to figure us out. I'll talk to him when he gets back from the roadie and it'll be okay. I promise."

He nods. "I need to go get changed then we can go," he tells her. "Wish me luck that he doesn't throw any of his gear at me in the locker room."

"You have my full permission to throw something back at him."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The week and a half that the roadie takes feels like forever. All she can do is watch her brother enter a slump while on the west coast. She respects his wishes and doesn't text or call him while he's on the road, but it's one of the hardest things she's ever had to do.

Matthew gets clears to go non-contact on the ice eight days after the initial injury. Brad Marchand was given a two game suspension and a large fine for intent to injure. At least, that's what the NHL Department of Player Safety announced the day after his hit on Matt. She sits at the Leafs practice building while she watches Matt work on some stickhandling and skating drills by himself.

It's two weeks after the game versus Boston when Mitch reaches out to his little sister.

from: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:09 pm can i come over ? to talk. i think im ready to talk

to: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:11 pm yeah. matt's here too, if that's okay

He doesn't respond, but she lets Matt know that Mitch is coming over to her apartment. They both sit on the couch when a knock announces Mitch's arrival.

She opens the door and Mitch walks into the apartment without a greeting. She's on his heels when he walks into the living room. Matt stands up to face Mitch.

"You better treat her right, Knies," Mitch tells him. She blinks in total confusion. "I mean it, Matt. If I find out that you hurt her in any way, I'll put your ass back on IR faster than you can blink. Got it?" He nods in response. "Now, can I have a few minutes alone with my sister? I have some things I need to say to her and I don't need you in the room while I do."

Matt quickly disappears down the hallway to her bedroom. The door distantly clicks shut and Mitch turns to her. She stands straight up as she faces her brother.

They look at each other for a second before she concedes first. "I am so sorry that neither of us told you about our relationship," she says. "But I'm going to tell you that I don't regret not telling you. Matt and I needed some time to figure out how we work together before we told anyone. Then we were together longer and longer and we thought you would be so mad that we didn't tell you-"

"Oh, I'm mad alright," Mitch interrupts her. "I mean, there are millions of people in the Toronto area that you could've started a relationship with. There are hundreds of players in the league itself and you chose to enter a relationship with my linemate of all people."

"You're angry because I'm dating someone on your team? she asks. "Of all the reasons to be angry, you're mad because I fell in love with Matt? Mitch, that's you're fault. You're the one that introduced us because Matt was a rookie in a big city and I'm about as old as he is. You thought that we could lean on each other since I also had just moved to Toronto to pursue a career."

"I didn't think you'd date him," Mitch retorts. "Let alone fall in love with him."

She rolls her eyes. "I can't help who I fall in love with and you should know that," she spits at him.

Mitch sighs and rubs his face. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he tells her. "You're my little sister."

"And he's one of your closest friends so you should know what kind of guy he is," she replies. "I'm 23, Mitch. I don't need you looking out for me. Believe me when I say that I very hesitantly started a relationship with Matt because I know how hockey players can be. He quickly showed me that he's not like other hockey players. He genuinely loves me, more than any of my previous boyfriends ever have."

Her brother frowns at her. "I just wish I could have watched you fall in love," he explains. "And know you were falling in love. I only find out you're in love and in a very serious relationship months later. I don't want to know how many months later but months later. It sucks not being able to watch my little sister grow up and find love until after."

Okay, she never thought of it like that. She never thought that it took away an opportunity for Mitch to watch her grow up a little bit, or find love. He was there for all her other relationships. Why not this one?

"I'm sorry, Mitchy," she softly tells him. "I really am. I don't want you to be mad because this is the best relationship I've ever been in. I'm sorry I took away watching me fall in love, but I didn't want to fall in love under the close eye of my older brother. Especially not when my boyfriend is his teammate. I needed to find me and how I worked with Matt. That's it. That's why neither of us told you."

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and envelopes her in a hug. She sighs and wraps his arms around his torso. "I could never be mad at you for very long," he admits. "I needed some time to think about what I was going to say to you when I calmed down. I didn't want to say something I might regret. I get why neither of you told me now."

"We wanted to so many times but it was never the right time," she says. "We were going to say something before the end of last season, then you were so focused on playoffs that we couldn't. Then the Boston series happened, and that wasn't the best time either. Then it was the offseason and we decided to wait even longer. Then this season started and it never seemed like the best time because the two of you had some great on ice chemistry. So we waited and waited until it was too late and it never felt like the right time."

Her brother backs away the hug and looks her in the eyes. "I don't want you to ever not tell me something because you think hockey is in the way," he sternly tells her. "I mean it. You're way more important than hockey will ever be. If you have something to tell me, then tell me next time, okay?"

She nods in response. "Got it," she softly says.

"By the way, I kind of knew something was up with you because you were around a lot more often than you were before," Mitch admits. "But you were always wearing my jersey so I thought it was because you really liked watching hockey. I had no idea it was because you were dating Matt. It makes sense looking back on it now."

A laugh passes her lips before she can stop it. "Hate to break it to you but it was because of Matt," she tells him. "I didn't wear his jersey because that would've meant telling you, which neither of us were ready for."

Mitch smiles at her. "I know," he says. "You look happy. I've never seen you this happy or in love before. It looks good on you, little sister."

"Thank you, big brother," she replies. "Can Matt come out now or are you going to give him the big brother talk?"

"Oh, I'll give that to him in the locker room," he laughs. "I'll tell you that you're allowed to wear his jersey now since I know. You've probably wanted to wear it before so you can now."

"Awesome," she says. "I've worn your jersey for too long. It's Matt's turn."

Footsteps echo down the hallway before they emerge into the living room. "I wasn't eavesdropping or anything but I heard that I could come out," Matt's voice says behind her. She turns her head and looks at her boyfriend. "Are we okay?"

Mitch walks up to her boyfriend and Matt sharply inhales. Her older brother holds out his hand. "We're good," he tells his linemate. "We're going to have our own talk though because that is my little sister you are involved with."

"Understood," Matt replies.

With a huge smile on her face, she runs up to Matt and wraps herself around his torso. "My favorite boys are friends again," she says as she looks up at Matt. "And you're no longer my little secret."

"I better be the first person you tell when you put a ring on her finger, Knies," Mitch warns. "Or bad things will happen."

"I'll come to you and ask for your permission to marry her if it'll make you feel better," Matt replies. "When we eventually get to that point."

"Good," her brother says. "I'll get out of your hair. I just wanted to come talk to you guys for a second. I'm going out with Steph for an early dinner but I didn't want you guys to think I hated you."

The boys give their version of a hug goodbye. Mitch presses a kiss to her temple before leaving. She looks at Matt.

"Feel better?" she asks. "Knowing it's not going to mess with your on ice chemistry now?"

"A little."

"What will help you feel even better?"

"I think you already know." Matt takes a step backward down the hall that leads to her bedroom.

She grins. "I like the way you think, Kniesy."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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taglist : @dasiysthings @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @ivy-34 @rigg647 @memandi @hughescanucks @bobichettsgurl94

[0mg-bird]

hii! i lovedd 'lover's rock' sososo much and would absolutely love if you'd write more about that reader & spencer's relationship! maybe the way it develops or their dynamic when they are like 100% official? anything'll do but the way you wrote reader is so unbelievably me i was absolutely eating it upp!!! i love you & your writing!

Hiiiii!!! Thank u sm !!! Lover’s Rock got so much love, here’s a part two!

My Spencer Reid requests are open!

Everybody Loves Somebody ~ S. Reid

Part II of Lover’s Rock

Spencer!Reid x Fem!Twee!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, brief smut, reader gets wine drunk with BAU women. Reid being dirty, reader being dirty. Idiots in love, omg so cute, season 6/ 7 Reid is soooooo boyfriend. Morgan thinks Reid’s gone crazy. Um yeah okay enjoy

86% of Americans believe in true love, but only 67% of them say they’ve experienced it. That’s a statistic Spencer told you once.

How lucky you are to be apart of that 67%.

How lucky you are that you didn’t settle, that you waited painfully long for it to feel right, because it feels so right.

Ever since that everything but casual hookup, it was like a stone that was always supposed to be in motion, finally started rolling. Spencer took you to dinner, a nice Italian hole in the wall because you mentioned a love of pasta, then he started to call at the end of the day just to talk, and a second date became of that. It’s like he blinked and all of a sudden you two were spending all of his free time together, watching movies, his hand in yours as you dragged him to record stores.

He seriously thinks that in the moments you’re half dressed in his bed, rambling on and on about something you think is important enough to talk about until you practically pass out, that it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up alone come daybreak.

It never happens though, he wakes and you’re curled into his ribcage like that’s where you belong.

You do, he determines.

So three months of this honeymoon dance, the words ‘I love you’ come out unexpectedly in one of Spencer’s ramblings as the breeze blows in, feeling awfully like the winter that’s coming soon. You were bundled up beside him, hand in his like it always is as he tells you about work and how Morgan is always after him about the ‘scandalous love affair’ he’s having with ‘bar room girl’. Aka you.

“They ask so many questions, it’s unbelievable the lack of privacy I have. You know what he told me?” He had asked, which you answered with “What did he tell you, handsome?” before he continued.

“He seriously asked me if I was keeping my options open just in case you turned out to be crazy, clearly he had to be joking because there are no other options. Not that I would want another option! I wouldn’t, you’re the option I’ll stick with- no not an option just, well, you’re you and I love you so I don’t really care if you turn out crazy. I’d see the signs by now anyway.”

You stopped your stride, looking up at him with wide eyes and a wide grin.

“What?” You question.

“Well I’ve been with you long enough to learn your habits and if you were crazy then-”

“No.” You stop him. “You love me?”

He faces you, realizing he had just said it. But even if he wanted to try and back track, he couldn’t, he’s smiling too wide.

“Yeah, I do. I love you.”

“Good. I love you too.” You say, watching your words click in his brain and immediately his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning over you as you laugh against his lips. Spencer doesn’t do PDA, or so he thought until he learned that it’s sometimes the only way you’ll understand his feelings and how he can’t put them into words.

You adore the sporadic behavior, getting kissed on sidewalks and trains and movie theater seats and anywhere else he thinks you’re far too beautiful in.

That’s what life has been like for six months together, madly and truly and deeply in love, deeply intimate in every word and touch and action. He goes to work and you’re the thought in the back of his mind as he crakes cases, you teach students and find yourself smiling at any free moment you have to think of when you’re going to see him next.

Now, the team has noticed the shift in their beloved Dr Reid, how he didn’t go out with them like he used to, how he spent a lot more time texting, how he’d casually mention you, but Spencer was a selfish man who wanted you to be something of only his. He shared his whole life with his team and even if they were his family, he took pride in knowing he had an escape they didn’t, which was you.

If the world got too much, you were there with your quirky outfits and strawberry lipstick to stain his cheek. You were his fix. Screw drugs, he had your laugh engraved in his head and that was far better than a needle.

That being said, there were times he was feigning, going through withdrawal all over again when he was gone for too long.

Like now. When he’s been everywhere but where you are for a week and three days just because he had back to back conferences and then fell right into a case.

He was tired and drained and felt a migraine coming on, painfully antisocial as he leaned back in the seat in the jet. Momentarily, he takes a second to breathe, then immediately digs his phone from his pocket and messages you.

He knows that you’re probably just getting home from the school day, that you’re probably sitting down at your desk to grade papers or work out lesson plans. He’s learned your routine in and out, it might be a little stalker-ish if he really thinks about it, so many cases has he worked where the unsub knows where a girl is at 4:30pm.

He’s no unsub, he just loves you enough to know everything about you.

Morgan, nosy like always, notices the way Spencer softly smiles at his phone.

“What are you grinning at, lover boy?” He asks, watching the way Spencer’s expression quickly shifts.

“Nothing.” He states, putting his phone away.

Morgan smirks. “Oh don’t be coy with me, we all know you’re dying to get home to that girl of yours.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, he opens his mouth to deny but the words don’t come. So he gives into it instead.

“So what if I am?” He questions, making Morgan- and Emily who is now paying attention- laugh.

“Aw, Reid, you’re all twitter-patted.” The dark haired agent says in a sweet tone.

Spencer presses his lips together and looks away.

“He’s not even trying to deny it.” Morgan tries to jab.

Only Spencer just shrugs. “Why would I try to deny it? I’m in love with her.”

The two widen their eyes.

“That’s a big word to use.” Emily hums.

“It’s a big feeling to have.” Spencer states. “You know, I’m used to feeling like I’m slowly going crazy everyday but ever since I met her, I don’t really feel it as intensely. It’s all the chemicals released in my brain I think, the dopamine and oxytocin over powers anxiety. Maybe it’s a placebo effect or something but I’ve never felt better than I do with her, so in short words, she’s cured me.”

For a moment, the two are at a loss for words, staring at their friend. It’s no negative thoughts they have, because they are overjoyed that their nerdy, awkward sidekick has finally found a match.

“I’m happy for you, Reid.” Emily smiles. “Sounds like she’s a good fit.”

Spencer, who could never speak ill about you, nods. “She’s probably the only one out there for me so yeah, she’s a good fit.”

“And you have me to thank for having her.” Morgan smirks. “Without me, you wouldn’t have approached her at the bar, you would’ve sat with your nose in that book and died alone.”

“Wow. Very encouraging.” Spencer says dryly.

“I want to meet her. I’m sure the whole team does.” Emily says, changing the subject.

“What’s that?” JJ adds in.

“Reid’s gonna introduce us to the girl who makes him leave the office at a decent hour.” Emily states before he can protest.

You aren’t going to like this idea, but the team is all talking about it like it’s the biggest news ever. He’d get you to settle and agree somehow, just so Morgan will finally see why he is so infatuated with you.

Besides, Rossi is already planning a night at his mansion for the team just so Spencer can bring you along.

- - - -

You completely lose track of the time as you continue to prepare dinner in his apartment, adding homemade sauce to pasta, cutting up seasoned chicken.

That’s probably why you don’t realize Spencer is home until he’s shutting and locking the door behind him.

He smiles in surprise as he sees you, dancing around his kitchen, hair clipped up in a messy updo, knee socks sliding around the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks, causing you to startle and flip around to face him.

Immediately, you’re joyous.

“Spence! Hi!” You rush to him.

He’s never been greeted so warmly until you, and now he can’t have anything different.

His arms encircle your waist as you clumsily throw your arms around his neck. The first words out of your mouth are ones he had never heard that often before you.

“I missed you.” You say, hugging him tight.

He pressed his nose to your hair, soothed by your citrusy shampoo. “I missed you too. I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant?”

You pull back only enough to see his face, your hand in his hair. It’s shorter than when you met, but it’s a good look for him.

“I know but I got impatient and figured I could surprise you with dinner. Is that okay? I suppose I could have asked. I used the key you gave me, I figured that the key meant I could stop in but I really should have asked, huh? Sorry, you know I get ahead of myself. Is this a violation of privacy-”

His lips find your rambling ones, immediately shushing you. It’s a warm welcoming feeling, something the both of you have missed terribly. You sink a little more into him, eyes shut in bliss as you slowly mold your lips with his, savoring it, deepening it.

“You being here is perfect, I gave you that key for to use. Thank you for using it.” He says closely as he pulls back, leaning his forehead to yours.

You sigh with a smile. “I really missed you.”

“I really missed you too.”

There’s a very peaceful silence for a moment, filled with your hands on his chest and your lips trailing over his face.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He asks before you press into him again, a little deeper now.

You hum in question against his lips.

“Where are your pants?” He asks, all muttered.

He really wasn’t complaining if you decided a new fashion trend was wandering his apartment in knee socks and funky patterned boy-short underwear.

“Red wine tragedy.” You state, pushing his coat off. “The cork wouldn’t budge, I put a little elbow grease into it but the thing toppled over when it popped and it was like a crime scene. Red stain everywhere.”

He tosses the coat to the arm chair. “That answers my next question as to why you’re wearing my Lacoste shirt.”

“My clothes are in the bathroom sink, had to scrub them down, though I think they can’t be salvaged.” You frown, turning back to the dinner, reaching for your wine glass.

Spencer just stares, watching how domestic it all is. You in his clothes, making dinner.

“Are you tired? Hungry?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hungry, yes. Tired, not yet. Are you staying the night?” He asks, coming behind you, kissing the top of your head as he leans to pick at ingredients and snack on them.

“Oh…do you want me to?” You question, trying to be coy like you don’t already know the answer.

“Of course I want you to.” He responds, making you chew your lip.

“Good, because my bag is already in your bedroom so it would’ve been really awkward if you said no.”

Spencer laughs, squeezing your hip in affection before he goes to clean up and get out of his work clothes. He takes a quick shower, warm water rushing over him, but he doesn’t want to be away from you for too long.

He comes out in sweatpants and a graphic shirt you’ve finally returned back to him.

The two of you sit and eat dinner and you listen to every single word he has to say before you explain your day and everything you didn’t cover in the nightly phone calls he made to you while away. It’s sometime after cleaning up, after the two of you washed dishes while bumping hips, that Spencer notices the trickle of things that have made their way amongst his belongings. Some have come over time, like a collection of cd’s, books, scarves you constantly forget to grab on your way out. Some things are new, like the makeup products in the medicine cabinet, your favorite snacks in the fridge.

“Did you move in while I was gone?” He laughs, coming to sit beside you on his couch.

Your legs immediately are tugged into his lap, his hand rubbing your calves.

“What? No.” You state, taking your hair down. “I just came by to collect your mail and put it on the coffee table …and to water your plants.”

Spencer cocks his head, looking at you in question. “I don’t have any plants, lovely.”

He watches your smile grow. “I got you some plants.” You say with a giggle.

That explains the golden pathos on the television stand and the small fiddle leaf fig by the window.

He thinks it’s charming, endearing. He noses your hair line, drawing you closer to him. “I no longer live alone, it seems.” He hums.

“Does that bother you?” You question, leaning your head into the space between his collar and jaw. The perfect you size space.

Spencer is quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head and speaks something into existence that he probably should have taken more than a second to think over.

“No, it doesn’t. Actually, I think I want you to move in. Permanently.”

Why should he have to think about it? It’s you, he wants you around 24/7. You could be his home, you could greet him like this always, your perfume could linger around like a friendly ghost.

“Is that a joke? I know you have an odd sense of humor.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

Spencer smiles gently, fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “No joke. I want you to be here with me all the time, I’m selfish like that.”

“You aren’t selfish.” You scoff playfully, but your expression quickly turns into one of concern. “But-but are you sure? I’m probably not a good roommate, I can be messy and I sleep weird hours. And I leave wet towels on the floor a lot, and sometimes forget to put the toothpaste away.”

Spencer shakes his head. “That’s fine, I’ll pick up the towels and put the toothpaste away.”

You continue to fuss. “But what about all of my things? I have a lot of stuff, you’d have to move things around and you’d get sick of all my shoes in your closet.”

“I don’t have much in my closet as it is, I’m fine with sharing. I’ll get another bookcase for your books.”

“But-”

He cradles your face in his hands. “But I love you and I’d be happy to trip over your heels forever. Now, do you want to move in or not? You can say no.”

You don’t want to say no.

“Your apartment is bigger than mine…and your shower has better water pressure.” You slowly say, cheeks still squished slightly between his palms.

Spencer begins to break out in a grin, but he lets you finish.

“And I could get to work faster…and I like the thought of never having to go back to my apartment for clean clothes.” Then you pause and look back up to his eye. “It would be nice to share something with you besides my entire heart and body and soul.”

How dare you say something so loving and honest, and just sit there like you were always meant to say these sort of words to him. Spencer is going to be love sick his entire life, he has no back bone, he is not a man but your man and this is all he has ever wanted. He starts to nod with starry eyes, slowly bringing his face closer to yours. “So?” He presses.

“So yes, I want to move in!” You say in a gleeful tone, throwing your arms around his neck as you rush a kiss to him.

You can’t help the cheerful laugh that leaves you, it makes it hard to kiss when Spencer is doing the same thing, completely at your will as you nudge him to shift and lay down on the cushions, you falling on top of him.

This is usually how it goes.

Someone makes a small move and then both of you get carried away. Neither of you ever seem to mind. You could spend an hour kissing and doing nothing else, but you haven’t felt the heat of him in ten days and nights, so you’re hungry for the breath in his lungs and the electricity in his fingers.

Spencer’s hands start to wander as you sit on his hips, kissing him slow and deep. They smooth up your thighs, over your underwear and up your back. Your mind is always as good as blank whenever those hands are on you.

“I’m never leaving again.” He declares, trying to work on the buttons of his shirt that you wear.

You sit up to help him. “That’s not possible.”

“I’ll find a way to make it happen, I only ever want to be here.”

You push the fabric off, leaving you in your lacy bra that he thinks is almost too pretty to take off.

Almost.

“Right here? On your couch?” You question sarcastically, fingers in his hair as he sits up to taste the skin of your neck.

“Yes, on my couch, about to show you how much I missed you.” He clarifies.

It’s blissful and exciting, how he ends up between your thighs, giving you relentless pleasure with no indication that he’s ready for you to return the favor. He’d stay like this all night if you wanted, tongue on nerves, fingers drawing out pretty noises from your blushed lips. It’s because it’s as good as breathing, having you reacting the way you do, tasting you in the most intimate way.

“Spence, baby.” You whine, legs threatening to shut.

He’s working you up, pushing you closer to the edge, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. Your hand tightens in his hair, holding him close as you plead for your finish. There’s no need to beg, Spencer would give this to you all day long.

When you do get to that point, it’s throwing you into another existence momentarily. A rather desperate moan frees from your throat, your head digging into the arm of the couch. It makes you feel warm and shaky. You have to blink harshly for your vision to clear.

“I- mmm.” You hum as he comes up to kiss you, it’s sinful the way you taste yourself on his tongue. “I think you’re the most perfect person in the history of persons.”

Spencer chuckles. “I’d correct your grammar but I don’t think your minds working at full speed right now.”

It’s true, everything is slow and fuzzy, yet you still find the urge to ask for more.

“We don’t have to.” He says, wanting to make sure you don’t feel obligated.

You never do, your drive just happens to be something he marvels at. In all actuality, he’s learned that he can match your pace, so it’s always fine. The two of you could spend nights on end falling into each other, either softly or with a hunger.

Tonight is probably one of those nights.

That’s how it seems when he has you in the bedroom after taking you on the sofa.

It’s your shared apartment now, he could probably have you on every available surface. But he has you in his sheets, teeth dragging across his skin, bare and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sex is never just sex with Spencer, even when it feels like it. Like when he comes straight to your apartment after a bad day and you offer yourself as a cure. It’s never just using each other, it’s all feeling and praise and making sure the other is reassured and happy. It’s nerves on fire and constantly stroking those deep, hidden parts of heavy pleasure inside each other that have never been brought to life. There’s borders pushed, you just let it happen because there is no way you’d ever want to say no and deny yourself the feeling of what he does to you. He has you arching with an empty head thrown back against the pillow as your tongue goes lame and you can no longer properly tell him how amazing it feels. Spencer has an idea, given the way you shudder and make the most criminal and attractive sounds he’s going to be replaying in his mind forever.

You learn a lot about care in the moments following bliss. Spencer could be compared to an animal of prey, the way he comforts without question, wipes tears from your face and does anything you ask of him.

“Hey.” He calls softly, leaning up on his side, watching you with your messy hair sprawled on the pillow. “You still with me, angel?”

You hum, head feeling heavy as you turn it to face him. You’re there…most of you is.

You suck on your bottom lip like you always tend to do, not needing words as you nod.

His hand reaches for your cheek, thumb brushing the flushed skin. “Overwhelmed?” He asks in an intimate tone, one he only uses with you.

You curl yourself closer to him. “A lot of feelings…I feel a lot.” You jumble, brows furrowed as you try to get power back to your limbs.

He hums, understanding, adjusting to hold you. “It’s the endorphins.” He speaks. “You have a high release of them during sex, then it all comes crashing down post orgasm. Your body’s trying to regulate your dopamine, because you got a thousand milligram shot of it basically, and now the high is coming to an end.”

You love it when he proves just how smart he is. It’s also insanely hilarious if you think about it, because he was just leaving bruises on your thighs as he pushed deep inside of you over and over, and now he’s explaining the science behind everything he made happen for you. To say the least, you were insanely in love with how much of a nerd he is.

“I feel good though. Not sad or anything…just sensitive.” You breathe out, somehow your voice trembles and squeaks, nudging closer to his skin like you need it pressed to yours or you won’t live.

“What do you need?” He asks in concern, tightening his arms around you like a weighted blanket.

You could cry. You won’t, but you could at the way he’s so caring and gentle. In what life do you do good enough in order to deserve him?

This one.

Shifting to see him face to face, your hand rests on his jaw, your thumb brushing the stubble there, and then traces to his upper lip. You like when he doesn’t shave, it makes him look more mature.

“I just need you.” You tell him, continuing your slow rubbing motions. It’s all you can say because you’re not sure he’ll understand that you have the urge to be wrapped in his skin and bones entirely, like you could just absorb into him and be your happiest.

Spencer knew in all of those years of awkward strike outs and getting ignored, that when the day came when he’d have a you to tell him sweet things and caress gently, he’d have to recognize the feeling. He’d have to be aware that this was a gift and to not be blind to the fact in front of him. The fact being that he has someone to love who loves him back just the same, and now he has to use that fact in every choice moving forward.

‘Honeymoon’ months have come and gone and though the two of you did argue once in a blue moon, things were great and were going to stay great.

He thinks a lot about this as he stares at his book page, leaned back in a chair next to the sill of the tub you reside in. Warm water relaxes you, scented bath soap makes your skin smell fresh.

You’re watching your painted toes pop up from the water, perfectly content with his hand twisting a strand of your hair around his fingers.

“I like my bedsheets…they’re soft and broke in.” You say promptly.

“I’ll take my sheets off the bed, you can put yours on.” He tells you.

You turn the hot water dial on and off with your foot quickly. “You’ll let me put my stockings in your sock and underwear drawer?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t laugh at me when I come to bed in nightgowns because I spent way too much money at a 1960’s lingerie store?”

“Did you really do that?” He asks, looking down at you, taking better notice of your hair as he does.

You must have given yourself a trim again, your bang part isn’t straight. You’re always changing your hair on the whim and it’s never perfect, but it always looks great on you.

“I was really bored while you were gone.” You exclaim. “The girls and I went shopping and I somehow ended up with lace teddy’s in four different colors.”

“Which colors?”

“Yellow, pink, blue and purple.”

“I like purple.” He nods.

You smile, then turn over to gaze up at him, arms resting on the edge of the tub. “I love you.”

He looks away from the inked words on the page and to you, resting your cocked head on your folded arms. “I love you too.” He says, leaning down and kissing your temple.

Then he drops the bomb.

“Oh, we’re going over to Rossi’s and you have to meet the team.”

“Now!?” You panic.

“No, no, angel.” He laughs.

- - - -

“My hair.” You fuss.

“You’re beautiful.” Spencer reminds, leading you to the escalator after you get off the metro.

You’ve made every excuse in the book not to go tonight, you’ve worried yourself sick about absolutely nothing.

“Is Rossi really rich?” You ask, wrapping your arm around him as he crowds your space on the moving stairs, hand on your waist, not minding one bit at how you shrink into him as he faces forward.

“Extremely rich, actually. Sometimes I think I should write a book or two and live his lifestyle.” He tries to joke, but you merely groan.

“I should’ve worn different boots, nicer ones.” You sat into his sweater vest.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks.

“These are my nicest boots!” You protest, and Spencer just laughs because he knew that’s exactly what you’d say.

He likes that fact, that he knows you well enough to predict the words from your perfect mouth.

His hand rubs your hip, feeling the thick material of your coat. “Your shoes aren’t going to make them love you, honey, they’re going to love you because you’re you.”

A frown pouts at your red stained lips despite the way you swoon over his sweet words. Spencer is always good at stringing together terms of endearment to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Yes, I’m me, and people tend to not like me for obvious reasons.”

He doesn’t like those words coming from your mouth.

“I like you.” He chimes.

“Yes but you’re weird.”

“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend who just put together a brand new bookcase for your things.”

You smile now, still clinging to him as the two of you head up to the night street. You’ll get a cab and you’ll be unsteady all the way to Rossi’s mansion of a home.

“I’m scared.” You squeeze his hand, staring at the iron door knocker.

Spencer squeezes back. “They pick on me, but they won’t pick on you. Besides, if you want to impress Rossi, just say a few things in Italian and tell him about your year abroad.”

“Vuoi fare sesso con me?”

His brows draw. “What’s that mean?”

You bite your smile. “Something I really can’t say to your boss.”

He rolls his eyes and knocks on the door.

This is the end. They’ll hate you, you’re sure of it and then Spencer will break up with you because his team will tell him he should ditch you and-

“Reid! You’re finally here!” An older man opens the door, dark hair slicked back, maintained facial hair, gold chain. He quickly ushers the two of you inside.

When his attention is turned to you, he is warm and inviting, introducing himself as David, calling you Italian terms of endearment, leading you to his living room after taking your coat.

The team- more like a family- is all talking amongst themselves with drinks in hand and laughing.

You’re thrown into the mix and come to realize you made it all up in your head.

The wine helps.

While the others are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Spencer Reid who doesn’t shake hands is showing signs of PDA, the girls who have been plotting for some time are pulling you away from him.

Spencer watches your eyes widen and he opens his mouth to suggest that maybe it’s not the best idea but Morgan sits him back down.

That’s how you end up in the guest bathroom with a bottle of wine and three women who ask you question and question. And as the four of you get tipsier and tipsier, all nerve is lost.

“We moved in together.” You say after handing the bottle to Penelope.

The three exclaim in surprise.

“He never tells us anything.” JJ frowns, possibly the most lightweight of them all.

Emily, who you learn gets more buzzed off of energy than anything, snickers a bit. “Sorry, I just got the image in my head of Reid sleeping in a twin size bed next to yours.”

The rest of you join her laughter.

“We share a bed.” You state, wondering why you thought these women were going to be monsters.

“Aw does he wear his pajamas and night cap too?” Penelope giggles. “Oh! Oh! Does he snore?”

She proceeds to imitate a very fake yet cute way of snoring.

“No, no. You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. He-he’s very normal, no striped pajamas, no oil lamp-”

“Ha! Oil lamp, that’s a good one.” JJ snorts.

“-just normal night routines, normal sex life, normal-ish sleep schedule.”

The three pause and you don’t even realize what you’ve given them.

“Normal sex life?” Emily questions, leaving you to drink from the bottle in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said normal sex life.” Penelope presses.

“Oh…yeah.” Your cheeks go red.

The three cringe.

“Oh, ew.”

“Yeah, there’s no way Reid has a sex life and I don’t.”

“I’m never gonna get this image out of my head.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Spencer is getting a similar interview.

“You love her?” Rossi asks with a proud smile.

“I do.” Spencer nods.

“She’s going to be moving in next.” Hotch jokes, fully being satire.

“No, she’s already done that. I’m going to marry her next.”

The men freeze and their eyes widen.

Their Spencer Reid, the young genius with a funny haircut who was just 24, is sitting here now talking about marriage.

“You’re too young for that, kid.” Rossi states, the others seeming to agree.

Only Spencer has thought of this for countless nights. Sure, he isn’t going to marry you tomorrow but he is going to marry you.

“I’m thirty, that’s a very average time for a man to marry. Besides, why would I push it off? I’m not waiting to be sure if she’s the one, I already know that.” He says like it’s so simple.

There’s no reasoning with him because he already has his reasons. The men realize this and accept it, because who were they to try and damper his mood? Everybody loves somebody, and Spencer finally fits that description.

- - - -

Crash

“I broke your plant.” You frown, stumbling over your feet, clinging onto Spencer as he pulls you through the apartment.

“That’s alright, it was more your plant than mine.” He reassures, trying to get you to the bathroom.

He knew he shouldn’t have left you with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia for that long. Now all three of you were wine drunk. He’s just grateful he only has to take care of you. Emily passed out on Rossi’s couch, Morgan was trying to wrangle Penelope when the two of you left.

“Your friends are nice.” You slur, hair in your face as he flicks on the bathroom light and sits you on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, real nice.” He huffs, pulling your hair up into a bun before going to grab your toothbrush.

“You’re mad?” You frown, mouth opening as he starts to brush your teeth for you.

Spencer looks down at you, one hand holding your chin while the other works the brush back and forth. “No, angel, never at you.” He reassures.

Once that task was tackled and he helps remove your makeup, he supports you all the way to the bedroom where he sits you in the bed and crouches to unzip your boots and pull them off.

Your eyes squeeze shut in hopes to get rid of the blur, and you yelp as he tugs your stockings down too roughly on accident. As your head hits the mattress, you erupt in a fit of giggles. Spencer can only apologize with a smile and kiss your knee.

“You’re taking my clothes off.” You state the obvious.

“Yes, I am.” He says, sitting you up after he pulls off your skirt to pull your sweater over your head.

“Careful now, I’m a married woman.” You joke, pulling at his sweater vest.

“Oh, are you?” He questions, pushing your hands away. The action draws a childish whine to escape you.

“No, sadly I’m not. I’m a spinster.” You sigh.

“That’s not what that means, lovely.” Spencer laughs.

“Doesn’t matter! Take off your clothes.” You whine and pull at the sweater again.

“Hey, I’m trying to get you ready for bed.” He dodges your advances once more, though it’s hard when you’re begging for a kiss.

Spencer kisses your nose and then goes to the dresser to retrieve a t shirt to slide on you when you’re just down to your underwear.

“I want a real kiss.” You frown, refusing to get in bed until you get it.

Spencer leans to softly peck your lips, once, twice, three times.

“Get in bed, I’ll get you some water.” He says, pulling back and motioning to the pillows.

With an audible humph, you do your best to crawl to your spot and slide into the sheets that came from your old apartment.

Spencer returns quickly with a glass of water, sets it on your bedside table and proceeds to get changed himself, well aware of your gaze.

“Spencer?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“You should make me your wife, I’d be a good one.”

He looks over at you, mostly covered in darkness accept for the light coming in from the window. You look so peaceful, watching him with love, saying the most perfect things.

“I know you would, pretty girl.” He smiles.

You’re satisfied with that answer.

Patting the empty space, you beckon him to your side, wanting to be tangled together. Spencer comes to his side of the mattress, the side closest to the door, and slips under the covers and helps you adjust into him.

Mostly incoherent, you speak. “We could get married, I could change my last name to Reid and we’d be the smartest couple around, you and me.”

Spencer hums, lying on his back as you nuzzle into his chest. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“I won’t ever ask for a divorce either, I wouldn’t even spend all your money.”

“Is that what you think wives do?”

You shrug. “That’s what my dad says about my mom.”

Kissing your head, he beckons you to go to sleep and you could continue this conversation another time.

“…Take your clothes off.” You say, shut eyes and mischievous smile.

“No, go to sleep.”

[judespoets]

worried | jude bellingham pt.2

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

genre: angst/fluff

warnings: mention of disordered eating, exhaustion and overworking

requested: yes

a/n: i couldn’t add the link to part one, you can find it in my masterlist tho!

Jude spent the night at your house after the two of you freshened up the house and laid down on the couch, watching some tv before getting to bed and getting a deserved night of sleep you desperately needed.

The next morning was weird, you were excited, for the first time in months.

“Good Morning, my love.” A voice pulled you out of your trance.

“Good morning.” You said, turning to your side to look in Jude’s eyes.

“How are you?” He asked, stroking some hair out of your face.

“Yeah, good.” You answered, nuzzling your head into Jude’s chest.

He held you tighter, almost afraid of letting you go again.

You enjoyed this moment, just the two of you laying with each other and not having to worry about anything at the time.

Until something growling broke the silence.

“Are you hungry, babe?” Your boyfriend asked softly.

“I- I guess not really.” You answered shyly.

“You are, I could hear your stomach growling miles away. How about I make us some food. You can take it slow,okay?” He said, trying to reassure you.

But the uneasy feeling didn’t leave. It wasn’t that you forced yourself to starve. You were content with your body. It was just that in times when you were studying, food felt like a reward you had to earn and you couldn’t let that thought go.

After Jude showered, he immediately got started on making breakfast while you took a shower.

When you got down, the smell of pancakes welcomed you, your favorite.

“Hey! I’m making pancakes, they’re almost done.” Jude said enthusiastically, looking at you coming towards him.

"Smells amazing," you said, sliding onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter. The sight of Jude moving around your kitchen so effortlessly made your chest warm. His hair was still damp from his shower and he wore an old T-shirt and sweatpants that made him look impossibly comfortable.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his smile as bright as the morning sunlight filtering through the windows. "You deserve the best breakfast, so that’s what you’re getting."

You smiled, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him flip a pancake with practiced ease. It was strange, this sense of calm. For months, your mornings had been a blur of rushing, stress, and neglected meals. Now, with Jude here, everything felt slower, softer, like the world had finally decided to give you a break.

"Plates are in the same place, right?" Jude asked, already moving toward the cupboard.

"Yeah," you replied, and he chuckled at your lazy response.

"You’re just going to sit there and let me do all the work, huh?"

You shrugged playfully. "I mean, you did offer."

He rolled his eyes with a grin and set two plates on the counter. He served up a stack of golden pancakes, then placed the plates in front of you. The pancakes were perfectly fluffy, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of syrup.

Jude sat across from you, his elbows resting on the counter as he watched you pick up your fork. "Try it," he urged.

You hesitated, the unease creeping back in. But Jude’s patient expression, so open, so kind, helped push it back. You cut into the pancake and took a small bite. The sweetness of the syrup and the burst of the berries were comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

"Good?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, swallowing the bite. "Really good."

"Good," he said softly, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Take your time, okay? We’re not in any rush."

The two of you ate in a companionable silence, the occasional sound of clinking forks and Jude’s little hums of contentment filling the room. You didn’t eat as much as he did, but you ate more than you had in days, and that felt weird.

After breakfast, you and Jude moved to your room to start packing for Madrid. The open suitcase on the floor felt like a challenge, a stark reminder that everything was about to change. Jude, as usual, jumped in with energy, determined to make it as painless as possible.

"Alright," he said, picking up a pile of clothes from the corner of the room. "Let’s figure out what’s coming with you and what’s staying. You point, I pack."

You sat down next to the suitcase, knees pulled to your chest. "I don’t even know where to start," you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

Jude dropped the clothes onto the bed and crouched down in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. "Then let’s take it one step at a time," he said softly. "Shirts first? Hoodies? Or should we tackle the mountain of socks I know you’re hiding in that drawer?"

You laughed despite yourself, the sound breaking through the tension in your chest. "Fine. Shirts. But only the ones I actually wear."

"Deal," he said, standing up and moving to the closet.

As he pulled out your clothes and laid them on the bed, you tried to focus on the task at hand. But the unease from breakfast still lingered. The pancakes had been delicious, and Jude’s company had made eating feel less daunting, but that voice in your head hadn’t gone away. Did you really deserve that meal? Had you done enough to earn it?

You shook the thought away and reached for a folded T-shirt. Jude glanced at you, his expression softening as he caught the faraway look in your eyes.

"Hey," he said gently, sitting back down beside you. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you lied, folding the shirt with precision. "Just... overwhelmed, I guess. There’s so much to pack, and Madrid feels so far away."

Jude nodded, his gaze never leaving your face. "I get that. But we’ll take it slow, okay? One thing at a time." He paused, then added, "And if it’s something else, you can tell me. You don’t have to carry it alone."

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Finally, you let out a shaky sigh. "It’s just... hard to change the way I think about things. Like breakfast earlier—it felt nice, but I couldn’t stop thinking that I didn’t earn it. That I should’ve waited until I’d done something... productive."

Jude’s expression turned pained, and he reached for your hand. "Love," he said softly, "you don’t have to earn food. You need it, just like you need rest and sleep. It’s not a reward—it’s what keeps you going so you can do all the amazing things you do."

You looked down at your lap, his words sinking in but not quite settling. "I know that, logically. But it’s hard to believe it sometimes."

"And that’s okay," he said, giving your hand a squeeze. "It’s going to take time. But I’ll remind you as many times as you need, every single day, until you believe it."

The lump in your throat threatened to spill over into tears, but you blinked them back. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jude leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Always."

After a moment, he stood up, his energy shifting back to the task at hand. "Alright," he said, grabbing another pile of clothes. "We’re packing all your comfiest stuff because Madrid deserves to see you in peak cozy mode."

You laughed lightly, grateful for the way he always knew how to lighten the mood. "I don’t think Madrid cares what I wear."

"I care," he teased, holding up a sweatshirt you practically lived in. "This one’s coming. Non-negotiable."

The two of you continued packing, Jude keeping the atmosphere light. But every so often, his gaze would flicker to you, checking to make sure you were okay.

When you zipped up the last suitcase, Jude flopped dramatically onto the bed. "Mission accomplished," he declared. "Madrid, here we come."

You sat down beside him, running your fingers along the edge of the suitcase. The unease was still there.

Jude propped himself up on one elbow, looking at you intently. "You ready for this?" he asked, his tone soft.

You hesitated, then nodded. "I think so. It’s scary, but... I’m excited too."

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "That’s all I needed to hear. And remember, we’re in this together, okay? One day at a time."

"One day at a time," you repeated, letting his words settle.

[davinawritings]

Hi, i found your blog and see you open request so I'll try my luck here. Please if you wouldn't mind writing an alien x human (f! Reader) with forced kiss/forced makeout (or literally just the alien tongue-fucking reader's mouth) it doesn't have to be smut or having sexual intercourse but if you want to add it that'll be up to you.

Thanks ✨

Hello! Thank you so much for the request ❤️ I hope you enjoy 💕🖤❤️

Warning: Forced makeout, cheating

Aliens made contact with Earth four years ago, and the two different species have made a vow of peace. Over the last few years, many aliens and humans have participated in an exchange program of sorts. The alien and human will exchange lives for six months, giving each species the opportunity to learn more about the other. Your boyfriend decided to sign up, and within a month, the arrangements had been made.

It has been just over 2 months since your boyfriend left Earth, and Eltath has come to live with you in your boyfriend’s place. You have come to really enjoy Eltath’s company. He was always kind and loved when you taught or showed him new things about the earth. He also happily answered any of your questions as well.

Today was like many others. You took him exploring around the city. Most of the days were spent just walking and talking with each other. You had decided on a quiet night in with some movies, something Eltath had come to enjoy very much in his time on earth.

You had previously stuck to history and nature documentaries, wanting to give Eltath all the knowledge you could, but you wanted to give you both a break from learning. After flipping through your options, you finally landed on a romantic comedy, one of your favorites.

You both watched in silence, with the occasional laugh, until the end, when the two main characters finally got together and shared a passionate kiss.

You could hear the innocent curiosity in Eltath’s voice when he asked, “What are they doing? They are pressing their mouths together”. The questions catch you off guard. You had not considered the fact that aliens may have alternative courting rituals and displays of affection. Your cheeks warm with slight embarrassment as you attempt to straighten your thoughts and provide him with an answer.

“Well, Eltath, they are kissing. On earth, it is a way to show someone you like them, a form of affection that humans show each other,” you replied, trying to give a more simple answer.

He nods before asking, “So when humans want to show another human they like them, then just press their mouths together? And all humans do that”.

You fiddle with your hands as you attempt to explain better, feeling slightly awkward with the conversation. “Not all humans kiss each other. It is only with others that you like and one may give different types of kisses. A small kiss on the cheek can signify love or care, while a kiss on the mouth signifies much deeper care and likeness for someone. Then with the people you really like, you may have a deeper kiss using tongues”.

Within seconds, he has moved next to you on your couch and has your face cradled in his large hands. You open your mouth to question him, but before you get a single word out, his long tongue enters your mouth. His tongue is much longer and thicker than a human’s, and he uses it to explore the entirety of your mouth.

You whimper and try to get his attention by pushing on his body, but he just keeps you held firmly in place. You work on breathing through your nose as Eltath seems to have no intentions of pulling out to let you breathe.

Tears spring to your eyes as he moves further back, using the tip of his tongue to start exploring your throat. He pushes forward and pulls it back rapidly, essentially fucking your mouth with his large tongue. You whimper helplessly, knowing this is wrong. You have a boyfriend, and yet here you are getting tongue fucked by an alien. And worse, you can’t help but get turned on by his actions, feeling your pussy start to get wet from him using your mouth.

Suddenly, Eltath pulls away, and you gasp for breath. You stay still as you watch him smile and say, “I like you very much, so that is how we will show each other from now on. Good night. I will see you in the morning for breakfast, and perhaps I will show you how we show our affection on my planet,” he says before walking to the guest bedroom.

As you lay in bed trying to sleep hours later, you wonder how you will explain to him that it is only your boyfriend who should be kissing you like that, though kisses with your boyfriend had never felt so intense or gotten you wet as Eltath did. Eltath also said he would show you how his kind shows affection. You don’t want to confuse him even more on human affection before he can show you alien affection. It just makes sense to wait for now. Right?

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Call Call Call!

Wonwoo x coworker!reader Requested? Yes! Word count: 3k A/N: I know this must be the 4th or 5th time that I’ve insisted on IT employee Wonwoo, but no. I will not stop. It fits him so well.

Wonwoo lets out a big sigh when the phone stops ringing, leaning back in his chair to glare across to Mingyu’s cubicle. He’s answered the phone faster than the rest of them today, and Wonwoo knows Seungcheol and Vernon are also rolling their eyes. It’s a stupid little competition that’s started since you began working here.

You find pretty creative ways to break computers. And phones. And printers. You keep the IT help desk busy and it started as a joke when it was just emails. One of his coworkers would groan, “Ugh, we got another one,” and the response would be, “What is it this time?”

And in the beginning, you kept a very busy schedule. You’d leave your laptop hooked up at your desk for someone to look at while you were at meetings. Same with your desk phone. And the printer was shared amongst your department. All that to say, they had no idea what you looked like until one day it was Vernon’s turn to run and fix something for you. He comes back up an hour later and says, “Uh, did you guys know she was hot?” Vernon’s point was proven one day at the company lunch when you were introduced as the newest team lead for your department.

From then on, all four of them would glance at who was calling or emailing and call dibs. Yes, they’d eventually answer it as the job requires, but if it was you? The race was on. Mingyu happened to win today. He’s jumping out of his seat with a smug smile once he hangs up the phone. “She needs admin access to download something.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes. “Can’t you just remote in to do that?” It’s what they would do for anyone else. Mingyu shrugs, making his way out of the office. Wonwoo tries not to feed this little competition his department has, but sometimes he can’t help it. Part of it is pride, because even if he’s not busy on another call or away from his desk, he always seems to lose the race to the phone or reply button. Mingyu and Seungcheol enjoy the competition, perhaps more than actually visiting you, though they seem to enjoy that too. Vernon even looks a little dopey sometimes when he comes back down from your cubicle.

Maybe it’s for the best that he loses all the time. He’s sure he’d be painfully awkward. So he’ll stick to your password reset requests which definitely don’t require a visit upstairs.

~ Wonwoo wins one day, not that there was actually a lot of competition. Seungcheol is out, and Mingyu and Vernon are on runs to help someone with something elsewhere in the building. Wonwoo has been left to man the phones and his heart leaps when he sees your caller ID come through. He answers the phone and you sigh on the other end. “I’ve done it again.”

His coworkers give you a hard time about how busy you keep them, so you start every call or email with an apologetic tone. It makes him bite back a chuckle. “What is it?”

“I’m locked out of everything. Which means I can’t even get in to my email to send a password reset request.”

“We need to discuss your password management,” Wonwoo teases, opening the directory. “Here’s your temporary password. You’ll need to reset it once you get in.”

Once you’ve jotted down the temporary password, you sigh again. “Thank you. I’ll try not to pester you again today.”

“It’s no problem.” He’s kind of required to say this, but he says genuinely right now. When the call ends, he documents the ticket and closes it, but when Vernon and Mingyu come back, they both see it and groan.

“You get to go on runs next time,” Mingyu grumbles.

~

Seungcheol gets the next call. You come in late to find out that nothing on your desk is working and you’re borderline panicked when you make the call from your coworker’s desk phone. Seungcheol comes back down ten minutes later with a smirk on his face.

“What, did you finally ask her out?” Vernon chortles from his desk. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. Not that any of them had been so bold as to do that yet, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

“Oh no,” Seungcheol chuckled. “I’m not brave enough for that. I was laughing at the problem this time.”

“What was it?” Mingyu asked.

“Surge protector was off,” Seungcheol snorted. “Custodians must have hit it when they vacuumed. You should have seen her face when that’s all it took.”

Even Wonwoo can’t help but snort at the thought. Mingyu shakes his head. “How does she keep doing things like this?”

“It’s a mystery,” Vernon muses.

~

The next call goes to Vernon. The printer is on the fritz again, according to your message. This isn’t new, not even for you. Others regularly complain about the very same printer that’s ancient and really needs to be replaced. His coworkers still chortle about the fact that it’s you who has to report it today.

Twenty minutes later, Vernon comes back into the office and simply announces, “paper jam!”

No one really reacts to this announcement. They get a few calls like that a week. However, Vernon stands between the cubicles and presents a massive wad of printer paper. “I’m not joking.”

The three of them burst into laughter. “Oh man. Did you pull all of that out of the printer in front of her?” Seungcheol wheezes.

“Sure did!” Vernon answers, dropping the wad into the recycling. “Her exact words were ‘why me’.”

“Why her indeed,” Wonwoo muses.

“We need to just put in a request to replace that monstrosity. It’ll save her and everyone else on that floor a few phone calls,” Mingyu said.

“I’ll do it,” Wonwoo offered, pulling up a request form. Anything to put you out of your misery.

~

Mingyu might have taken the next phone call, but he begrudgingly hands it off to Wonwoo to handle. Mingyu’s in the middle of massive laptop order and can’t break away, so he dictates the problem to Wonwoo. It’s simple. You need a new keyboard. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, simply filing the ticket and picking up a new keyboard from the supply closet on his way out.

He realizes you’re having a hard day right away. You’re cleaning the spilt coffee off your desk with paper towels that your coworker, Jiwoo, is handing you over your cubicle wall. You kind of look like you might cry when he approaches, so he doesn’t dare make a joke about your call today. “New keyboard,” he simply says, holding it up.

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you sigh. “Sorry to make you make the trip up here for that.”

He shrugs. “It’s no problem.”

“No, it is. This is the first thing I’ve actually destroyed,” you pout, tossing a wad of paper towels into your trash bin and grabbing another wad from Jiwoo.

“These aren’t expensive,” he tries to soothe. “We buy them in bulk anyway. There are a ton in the supply closet.”

He doesn’t know if his words help, so he simply hooks up your new keyboard and carries the coffee-logged one away. Jiwoo is giving you another cup of coffee as he leaves.

He gets the typical questioning look when he arrives back in his office. He presents the destroyed keyboard. “Coffee mishap,” he says, dumping it into the equipment recycling bin. “I think she might have actually been upset by that one.”

“At least it wasn’t her laptop,” Vernon says.

“Don’t jinx it. Bless her heart, but it might happen someday,” Seungcheol said with only a bit of humor to it. Sometimes, they actually felt a little pity for you and your bad luck with technology.

Wonwoo wouldn’t mind putting in a laptop request form for you and setting up a loaner, but he did not enjoy seeing you upset. He hopes you don’t have to call again today, if only because it means you don’t have anymore mishaps to feel bad about.

~

The company is hosting a dinner for everyone in celebration of a successful year. It’s dull for the first half, with leadership rambling about record-breaking profits and an overwhelming number of new investors. Amongst other coworkers, you’re being honored for some of this work, for which you have to give a little acceptance speech. At least you have a good sense of humor, because you thank the help desk for all of the assistance they’ve given you in your time here. It’s sort of like an inside joke when you promise you’ll try not to break anything else.

Wonwoo decides to tap out a little after 10pm. It’s early for something like this, particularly since the company has an open bar tonight, but he doesn’t really feel up to getting drunk with his coworkers. His bed is calling his name, so he says good night and steps out of the venue the company has rented for the night. You’re already standing outside. It’s kind of unusual to see you alone. You usually stick to your department mates, namely Jiwoo.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he approaches you. “Nice speech, but you didn’t have to do that,” he chuckles.

You glance up at him, grinning. “Oh, but I did. I harass you guys constantly. You deserved the shout out.”

“You’re our favorite troublemaker, it’s okay,” he teases. He glances around. “No Jiwoo tonight?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, she’s been sick the last couple of days. She wanted to make it, but she’s still stuck in bed.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says. “What will you do without your shadow? Or are you hers?”

You snort out a laugh. “Depends on the moment, I guess. But to answer your question, I’ll be getting a taxi. She usually drives for these things.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Why would you do that? I’ll just give you a ride.”

Your eyes get wide. “Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you. I’m all the way on the other side of town. You don’t need to go out of your way.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I don’t mind the drive. Come on. I really don’t mind.”

You eventually nod. “If you insist. Thanks, Wonwoo.” He leads you to his car that’s parked around the block. He lets you guide him as he pulls out onto the street.

While driving between directions, he can’t help but chat idly. It even surprises him, but whatever nervousness he felt fades fast because you’re an easy person to talk to, even if the only safe topics he has are work related right now. “Do you like the job so far?”

“Oh yeah! It’s very different from my last job, but that’s a good thing.”

“Oh? What did you do before?” Wonwoo asked curiously.

You hesitate and he glances to you to see that you look a little sheepish. “You’re going to laugh.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I promise I won’t.”

“You will,” you insist, before taking a deep breath. “Here it goes. I used to work in IT.”

Wonwoo can’t help the snort that he lets out. It’s a good thing he’s at a stop light. “Are you serious?”

You’re turning a little red, rolling your eyes. “I know, laugh it up.”

“Seriously, explain this to me. You used to work in IT but you’re the top ticket requester for the entire year. How did we get here?”

You’re shaking your head, though you don’t look too upset. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but that’s pretty ironic,” Wonwoo muses. “What? Do you just like for us to come visit you?”

“Your whole department? Maybe not,” you laugh, but it makes him quirk an eyebrow at you again.

“What? Do you have a favorite or something?”

You scoff good-naturedly. “What? So you can laugh at me again?”

“Is your plot to date Mingyu?” Wonwoo teases slyly, but you shake your head with an eye roll. “Seungcheol?” Another shake of your head. “Vernon?” He cries out.

You scoff. “Nope. You know, you hardly ever answer the phone?” Wonwoo’s perplexed for a moment, glancing at you at another stop light. “I’m… lost.”

“By what? That I know how to work a surge protector and was hoping you’d pick up the phone? Most of those calls were admittedly things I couldn’t help, but….” You trail off.

Wonwoo’s incredibly slow on the pickup. “You’re… into me? Me?” He points to his chest for clarification.

You blink up at him, gesturing to the intersection. “Green light.” Wonwoo starts driving again. “Why not you?”

“I don’t know… and why not just ask?”

You start to say something and then huff. “I don’t know. What if I make a fool out of myself?” You pause. “More than I already do, I guess.” You point to an apartment complex on the right. “This is me.”

He’s quiet for a few beats as he pulls up in front of the building. You’re peeling off your seatbelt when he interrupts. “I would have said yes.”

You stare at him for a long second before a smile begins to creep up on your lips. “Oh?” You glance around at the street in front of you before glancing back. It’s like you’re steeling yourself for something. “Would you happen to be free this weekend?”

Wonwoo slowly smiles, gripping the steering wheel. “Yeah, I’m free if you are.” It’s his turn to be a little bold. “But I’m free right now too.”

Your grin is getting wider. “The dinner didn’t quite cut it for me. Did it for you?”

“No… There’s a good restaurant around the corner that stays open late, I think.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go then!” You’re hopping out of the car and Wonwoo has never moved so fast to follow. He does everything he can to mask how giddy he is when he meets you on the sidewalk and you hold out your hand for him.

He’ll give you a hard time about your unorthodox approach to letting him know you’re into him later. Much, much later.

~

The phone rings and no one leaps for it. Mingyu even sits back in his chair again. “Wonwoo, it’s for you.”

The little competition of theirs was over the moment that the phone rang one day and you asked if Wonwoo was busy and could help you with something. He hadn’t really announced the newly found relationship, but he’d been met with three questioning glares when Seungcheol had asked why you wanted Wonwoo specifically. He’d casually said, “Not sure, but I’ll be a good boyfriend and go see what she needs.” He left the room in utter chaos that morning.

Since then, they’d resigned themselves to the fact that most of your calls were just excuses to see Wonwoo. It didn’t always work - sometimes Wonwoo was busy and someone else had to come help you - but no one would ever catch Wonwoo complaining.

Like now, Wonwoo simply stands and leaves the office to see you. He knows you don’t really need anything, but he likes the excuse just as much as you do. When he comes out of the elevator, you’re peeking over your cubicle wall and he can tell you’re grinning even though he can only see your eyes. He hangs over the cubicle wall lazily. “You rang?”

You look a little sneaky when you smile up at him. “I accidentally deleted a file and I think it’s gone forever. Can you help?”

“Sure,” he says simply, though he could have recovered this file from his desk. You slide your chair to the side and he squeezes into your cubicle to take over your computer. “Any plans tonight?” He says casually.

“No, do you?” You ask, tone teasing.

“Oh my god. Do you guys have to do this every day?” Jiwoo groans from her cubicle, though neither you or Wonwoo can see her. It makes you both laugh.

“Just put your headphones in, Jiwoo. Let me talk to my boyfriend,” you chuckle.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Wonwoo teases, ignoring Jiwoo’s second groan.

“When did we talk about that?” He’s absolutely messing with you because he’s been calling himself that for a while now.

You blink up at him innocently. “Do you hate it?”

Wonwoo snorts. “No, you know I don’t.” His phone buzzes, and then keeps buzzing in his pocket. He knows it’s one of his coworkers downstairs. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later for dinner.” He risks a little kiss before he runs back downstairs. He’ll take whatever complaints his coworkers have for his little escapes upstairs any day.

[ssentimentals]

hii!! been loving your posts!! can i pls request suggestive prompts 2 and 30 for mingyu!! you are holding this entire app on your back rn! 🙌🙌🙌

hiiii! ahhh this is too kind, i'm gonna cry :(( thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'can i sit in your lap?' - 'hold still.'

you grimace at the sheer amount of people around - going out on a friday night is never a good idea for someone who is not a fan of crowds, but birthday parties cannot be missed and soon you find yourself squeezed between all your friends and bunch of strangers, sweaty bodies pressed one to another.

'shit, sorry i am late, guys!' mingyu bursts into the circle, quickly going to give a hug to the birthday boy. he then instantly finds you, enveloping you in a big hug: 'hi, baby. sorry i couldn't pick you up. work is crazy.'

'it's okay,' you assure him, breathing normally for the first time during the night once he wraps his arms around you. 'glad you made it.'

'of course,' mingyu leans back and places gentle kiss on your cheek. 'i promised you i would.' he looks in your eyes, frowning. 'you okay so far?'

it's sweet and you want to reassure that you're fine but honestly, you're not. in hopes to avoid brushing strangers constantly and being more in his space, you whisper into his ear: 'can i sit in your lap?'

mingyu looks surprised but eagerly complies, pulling your back to his chest as soon as you're done. 'that's your place, baby,' he brushes his lips over your neck. 'you can always sit here, no permission needed.'

you ignore his words, blushing. thank god it's dark inside and no one notices; everyone is too busy with taking shots and celebrating birthday boy anyways. you slowly relax, feeling safe in mingyu's arms; soon you're enjoying the music and forget about uneasiness you felt before. you don't even notice that you're moving, managing to somehow move to the rhythm whilst sitting on mingyu's lap until he doesn't grip your hips with a low: 'hold still, pretty. you're making it a bit hard for me.'

understanding downs on you as he shifts and you feel the reason for his request, semi-hard. you bite your lap, unsure. part of you wants to continue teasing him but another part is eager for you two to leave. in the end it's not you who suggests that; mingyu lets you lean fully on him and whispers into ear, tracing swirly patterns on your thighs: 'i think if you and i leave right now no one will notice. everyone is drunk.' you shift to get more comfortable and he lowly groans: 'fucking- is that your way of agreeing?'

you blush, giggling quietly. 'sorry, it wasn't intentional, i swear.'

'i don't believe you.' mingyu places small kiss on your temple. 'let's go baby, please. hm?'

you glance at your surroundings and yeah, mingyu's right, no one would bat an eye if you two just left now; his idea seems to be appealing enough. you turn to him, catching his eyes - he's watching you with silent desperation, eyes hungry for more. 'yeah,' you breath out, noticing hitch in his breath. 'let's go home.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[bigball-thefrog]

hey there! once again wishing you good luck on those exams! but i was wondering if maybe you could write something for law?

i was thinking maybe that Law and the reader had met awhile back on the readers island and she like saved him from something when he was a rookie. then obviously she joins his crew and stuff but then one day an incident happens that causes the reader to die and Law is devastated as the years go by

But here’s the twist!☝🏻The reader didn’t actually die but instead she survived and the Strawhats found her wondering around and took her in🙏🏻So know she’s a member of the strawhats, then Law meets her again in Punk Hazard.

The rest is up to you! I just kinda want it to be angsty and heartbreaking when Law meets the reader again like maybe I don’t know she fell for someone else…(if you can…can you make the reader nerdy bc i’m a nerd🧍🏻‍♀️)

Helloooo!!! I'm back and I've finished your request, I hope you like it. I know I said I'd post a few yesterday but I got tired. But I'll try and post than just this today because I've got quite a bit planned. But for now, enjoy more Law suffering

Warnings/Tags:

Female reader

Law can't be happy for a goddam minute before it all goes to shit

______________________________

Narrator POV

You lived a peaceful life in a small village by the sea. Nothing much ever happened until one day you were collecting seaweed when you saw a man about your age wash up on the beach with a polar bear. The Polar begged you for help and you took them both in.

When the man woke up, he thanked you and introduced himself as Law, a rookie pirate, and the Polar bear was his right hand man, Bepo. They stayed with you for awhile and grew kinda close, you knew a lot about botany which and medicine which was good for Law, to help him heal and to improve his skills as a doctor, you both also got along with your shared love the comic, Sora, Warrior of the Sea. When it was time for Law to leave, he invited you to come with, and he accepted, making you the botanist/herbalist of the heart pirates. You grew closer as the days went by, you knew that law was mostly closed off from showing much emotion but you were starting to break down that cold wall around his heart, getting closer than most, even starting to get almost, intimate, with him. But it didn't last long...

At the events of Sabaody, you and the rest of the crew were fighting against the Pacifistas and were struggling to get away, Law was distracted trying to save everyone he didn't even notice he was being aimed at. As it fired, you managed to push Law out the way, causing you to he blasted instead. You went flying from the blast and Law was too slow reach you. He wanted to run after you but he was quickly picked up by Bepo as he ran with him. He struggled but it was no point. Once the fight was over and the marines were gone, Law and the rest of the crew spent all of their time, searching for you and where you went, only leaving when the events of Marineford happened. But you were nowhere to be found... You were gone... Another person, close to Law.. Gone...

--------------------------------------------------

Two years later at Punk Hazzard, Law had just allied with the Strawhats and was following Luffy back to their current hideout so he could swap back the bodies of the crew he changed.

He walked in, first noticed the giant children, then the crew, then... You...? No, it couldn't be, you were dead, you were killed in Sabaody and Law couldn't find your body! How, how were you here?! Why were you here, why didn't you come back to him?! Law stood frozen and it was only when Nami shouted at him to change her back that he snapped out of his thoughts and changed them back, but right after he ignored everyone else and walked right up to you. "Oi..." He called out as he stood right in front of you. You looked up at him, confused but smiled, "Oh, hello. Are you a friend of Luffy's?" "Stop the act, you know who I am.." "No, I don't... Have we met before?" dammit, why were you acting like this?! Of course you two had met before! "Yeah, I'm your captain remember?" you shook your head, "No you're not, Luffy's my captain, I only just joined recently at Sabaody"

Sabaody?! How?? He searched every inch of that island for you!! "Cut the bullshit! You're not apart of the Strawhats! You're apart of my crew! You were a botanist/herbalist that helped me make medicine on my ship! The Polar Tang, remember?!" Law shouted out, you looked at him sympathetically, "I'm sorry but I don't remember... I don't remember much before waking up on Sabaody..." Law clenched his fists, you must've lost your memories when you got blasted by the Pacifistas... And now you don't remember him at all...

Defeated, Law just sat next to you, "Sorry, you just reminded me of an old friend... That I lost two years ago..." "Oh... I'm so sorry..." you frowned and moved a little closer to him, "It's fine... I just miss them a lot, and you look identical to them.." Law mumbled. You both went into a comfortable silence until Law decided to still check up on you despite you not remembering him, "So, how have the Strawhats been treating you?" He asked. He listened to you as you began rambling about all the stuff you've done with them already, you were still making medicine and growing your plants, you assisted Chopper now with the medical filed, but what hurt the most was when you mentioned that you had tarted growing feelings for Zoro. Now that was a punch in the gut, all the close, intimate, personal moments that you shared with Law, gone. Now all your feelings dedicated to the swordsman...

He went quiet again and when you noticed this and tried to apologize but he just looked away, how could he even look at you now that you remember nothing and he remembered everything... You were gone, the person he had grown to love, care for and let down his walls for, was gone... You looked genuinely upset, nit understanding what he was thinking or going through so you just looked down with a frown on your face. When Law glanced back and saw your frown his heart clenched. He hated seeing you frown and be hated being the reason for that frown even more. Maybe, this was for the best? Maybe you were better with the Strawhats, but dammit it hurt so much to think about you not being with him anymore.. But now with the alliance, he could see you for a little longer.. Maybe, he could get ode to you again and maybe something in you would snap and you'd remember... With a deep exhale he turned back to face you and spoke about the first thing you two bonded over, "So... You like Sora, Warrior of the Sea?"

______________________________

Alright, so for tonight, I've got a part 2 of I request I did, then I've just gotten a new request to do, then I'll be posting a poll with three of my ideas that I'll let you all pick the order of which I post them in. I'll see you all real soon.

Kelly🐸

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for Inês

Request: Hii, I just really need more of the Minotaur (Ambrose) x fem!reader story. You have complete creative liberty, just keep their personalities as they are. Thank you so much!!!

A/N: Hi there! Thank you so much for commissioning, it means a whole lot. I want to let you know that with this commission you not only made me happy but the anon who requested the first and second story was VERY happy about it. Hope you enjoy it!

Movie night

Minotaur (Ambrose) x chubby fem!reader || pet play, edging, cock-warming, degradation, humiliation (light), size kink, dirty talk

You were just walking through the living room when Ambrose called you over. “Come here,” he ordered.

You looked at him confused, you were busy, you had the basket on your arms, couldn’t he see that? “What? I have laundry to do,” you told him, your brain focusing on a thousand different things you had to do.

“You look stressed. I’ll do it later, come here,” he repeated, this time with more force behind his words. There was a spark of desire in his eyes, and your knees were already turning jelly just by being stared like that.

“But laundry…” You tried to argue, but already setting the basket down as you walked towards him.

“Are you trying to be a brat right now, sunshine?” He teased, his hands grabbing your hips when you were close enough, dragging you to his body until you were pressed firmly against his hard chest.

“I- Not really. Should I?” You were extra confused, your brain was a bit overwhelmed, too much stuff to do, too much work.

“You are completely oblivious to the world, you know that?” He told you, his face soft and tender. “Now, now. You are going to be a good pet and sit on my cock as we watch a movie and relax,” he put emphasis on that last part and you blushed. His words made your pussy tingle, instantly reacting to the prospect of getting fucked.

“And what if I don’t want to?” You responded, your inner brat raising to attention instantly. You tried to play cheeky and hard to get, but both of you knew you were down hard for his cock.

He chuckled, kissing your forehead in a tender gesture. It was such a contrast with his sexy attitude that you were thrown off for a second. “Then we’ll do it either way but you’d be wearing a gag during. And I know how much you like to talk during movies, sunshine.”

You did like to comment stuff, but you were about to talk back just because you knew there was no way you were going to focus enough in the movie to comment shit. If you sat on his cock, you would only be thinking about him inside of you, you didn’t even care what movie he chose. But bratting came before cock.

“A gag? Really? Weak…” You said, your eyes traveling down his body and fixating on his cock. You tried to grab it, but he stopped you midair, laughing.

“Ts, ts, ts… Such a bad pet. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you,” he promised.

“Bring it, Ambrose,” you dared.

He moved so fast you barely registered it, but before you could process it, you were naked and he tore off your soaked panties. “Open,” he ordered as you pressed your lips together. He chuckled and grabbed your face, pressing against your cheeks until you opened your mouth and he stuffed your broken panties inside. “Now you look a lot better, like the slut you are.” You shivered at his words. You blushed, trying to look down in embarrassment, your pussy tingling with its own heartbeat.

He manhandled you until you were sitting back against his erection, your back to his front, facing the TV. He didn’t let you move, he only pressed down your pussy against his dick, entering you slowly, so, so slowly you were a mess by the time he was only halfway in.

You begged and cried out his name, asking for more, but he only chuckled, slapping your ass cheek hard. You were so focused on the sting on your ass, you gagged around the panties when he lowered you in one go, burying himself to the hilt. Your cries were muffled by the fabric in your mouth, and your drool was making them a mess. He felt so big inside of you, always so big... your eyes rolled back into your head.

“You are so eager to be a slut, aren’t you, pet? You were begging to be filled and now that you got what you asked for, you are only drooling over your gag. What a pathetic little pet.” His tone was harsh and degrading, making your whole body burn with desire and pent up frustration. You wanted to bounce back, to move your hips, but he was holding you still. “Be a good pet and stay still as I put on the movie,” he ordered.

But as soon as he removed his hands from your hips to reach for the remote, you pulled up and down in a fast swallow pace, rolling your lips and groaning around the panties in your mouth. It felt so good… But you didn’t get much fun before he slapped your ass so hard you jumped on his lap, making both of you groan at the movement.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Such a greedy little slut wanting to get fucked more than she wants to obey…” You whined at his words, trying to move your hips again. “I said no. Now, stay still, you like this movie.”

And just like that he was holding you to his body, unable to move even a fraction as he watched the movie and commented some of the parts he liked. You tried to focus on his words, on the movie… But you couldn’t. You could only feel his big cock inside your pussy, stretching you to almost your limit. You could feel his heartbeat inside of you, the pressure of his shaft against your G-spot…

You were going mad with pent up need.

Halfway though the movie, he put his hand around your neck and pulled your head back until he could stare into your eyes. “Now, now, sunshine… Do you think you deserve to come?” You nodded vehemently, tears filling your eyes as every little word out of his mouth moved his body so very lightly that you could feel it inside of you. “Awww, such a pathetic little pet all eager to cum, such a slutty human for my minotaur cock.” A single tear left your eye and he licked it off, laughing at your reaction. “Okay, pet, you deserve an orgasm. You are going to take those little fingers and rub your pretty clit until you are coming around me. If you move your hips or try to fuck yourself on my cock there will be consequences, are we clear?” You nodded, and he took pity on you and pulled the soaked panties out of your mouth. “Words, sunshine.”

“Yes. Yes. Please, anything, Ambrose, please… I’ve been good, please.” You were incoherent, your need to come so big you couldn’t form any thoughts away from it.

He kissed the side of your head and guided your hand to your dripping pussy. “Such a pretty pussy, so wet and gushing for me…”

You started a frantic pace, rubbing your clit until you were on the edge of an orgasm. You almost thought he was going to stop you from reaching it, but you had been good, you had been still as he watched the movie… You rubbed faster, getting yourself there in less than a minute.

You came around him as he grunted, your pussy convulsing around his length still buried inside of you. You lost control of your body, thrashing against him as he embraced you against his chest.

When you came back to the land of the living, he pressed you tighter against his chest, holding you still as he started fucking up to your oversensitive pussy. You cried out, it was too much, too raw, but he didn’t care. And your brain was melting because of the pleasure.

“Take it. Take it like the good slut you are. I’m going to breed you so deeply you are going to be leaking for days,” he grunted against your ear, making you see stars behind your closed eyes as you moaned his name. “I love when you moan my name like that, so fucked out, your pussy is so tight and wet… made for me.”

His words drove you into another dimension, your second orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave as he groaned your name against your ear, his hips pistoning in and out of you like a madman as you came around him. By the time he released his cum inside of you, you had come two more times and your body couldn’t hold itself anymore. You were pliant against his chest as he filled you to the brim.

“Well, now we know I can fuck the brat out of you,” he joked as you melted against his body, sleep claiming you.

[touchme-teezme]

hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if u want me to make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. k bye love u

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace:

what more did you want from me?

i gave you my heart my soul my body

i let you build a home inside of me

but you still went to the store and bought a lighter

just to set me on fire

did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop…” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“San,” you said, your voice trembling. “You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? It’s not like that. This is serious to him—he really likes her—”

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

[mj-iza-writer]

Dare I suggest one of my favourite tropes ?

Whumpee wrongfully locked up in a psych ward, and being driven mad by the imprisonment. 19th century psych wards are so good for that.

When he's rescued, caretaker can't recognise him anymore.

Love your work !

- @whumpisgoodwhumpislife

Yes, I got so excited when this request came through. Asylum history is one of my favorites, and it has been a special interest of mine for almost fifteen years now. I hope this is to your liking.

Sorry it got a bit long. -Mj

Disclaimer, before you read: thus story does use rude language toward the mentally ill. That is due to the time frame of when this story is set. Unfortunately it was a dark time back then, I have studied this part of history for years. Nit a good time for the mentally ill. Thankfully a few people led the way to benefit these persons. Dorothea Dix being one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy this story.

Caretaker had only left them outside for a few minutes. They just needed to grab a cloth to wipe some spilt water from Whumpee's shirt.

Whumpee accidentally dribbled some of their drink and was bound to do it again.

Caretaker whistled as they started back outside.

They looked outside and saw Whumpee being carried away on horse.

Whumpee's screams matched Caretaker's.

"Stop.... where are you taking them?" Caretaker yelled, "where are you going with my sibling."

Someone rode back to Caretaker until they were a few feet away, "the mad one is being taken to the State Hospital. It is too dangerous to have someone like them out here with us."

"Someone like?", Caretaker was taken back, "they were just sitting by the tree in their wheel chair", Caretaker looked at the tree and saw the chair had been flipped.

"You flipped their chair?", Caretaker frowned.

"The hospital will be just fine for them. You can rest easy", the person turned and road off.

Whumpee continued to scream even when Caretaker couldn't see them anymore.

Caretaker cursed as they lifted the wheel chair and found it had been broken along the seat. Whumpee's blankets laid disheveled on the ground.

"Ma made these", Caretaker mumbled as they tried to shake them off.

Caretaker spun around as they heard a horse approaching.

"I just saw them ride by with Whumpee. Where are they going?", Caretaker's father called as they got closer.

"Th-they must have been watching the house. I went inside to get a cloth to wipe some water off of Whumpee. I came back and they were riding off. They said the state hospital", Caretaker cried, "I was gone for a moment."

"No no no", Caretaker's father turned their horse and raced after them.

"I told those bastards no", Caretaker's father sat in the jail with the sherif, "they came onto my property. Attacked my child, and stole. I have signed papers that said Whumpee was to stay with us. Caretaker wants to take care of them so they can practice doctoring. Whumpee was perfectly content with the situation."

"There is nothing I can do Darryn", the sheriff frowned, "I'm sorry, but they have papers that are above even me. It's state run", they sighed, "maybe it's a good thing. Whumpee might be getting help. It is state run after all."

"No, the best thing is for them to stay with their family. These people have over stepped", Darryn set his jaw angrily, "they kidnapped my child... just because they are a  little different from every one else. I told them no."

"In a few months the judge will be around. What I suggest is preparing a case to take to them. They will be over to go against the orders set on Whumpee. Maybe they will agree", the sheriff sighed, "I am truly sorry, but my hands are tied."

Darryn slowly rode home. Defeat weighed heavily on their shoulders.

Caretaker and the family watched as Darryn dismounted.

"I-I shouldn't have left them pa... I'm sorry", Caretaker sobbed.

"It's not your fault Caretaker. You didn't know. You were taking care of our Whumpee", Darryn hugged Caretaker close, "there are some horrible people around. The moment someone who doesn't quite fit in sticks out... well these people just don't understand. It's not your fault."

"Can we get them back?", Ma spoke up.

"Oh we are getting them back. They took my kid, you don't do that to a man", Darryn frowned, "Sheriff can't do anything as it is run by the state. They said the judge is to be here in three months. We need to work on our case and present it to the judge."

"Three months? What about Whumpee?", Caretaker wept.

"I... there is nothing we can do", Darryn sighed, "nothing. Whumpee might be a little different, but they are strong. I believe they will be alright."

Three months passed slowly, but finally the judge came.

The sheriff had rode about a mile out to meet them as they rode in.

This would give Sheriff enough time to explain Whumpee's case before the family piled into the office. They were called upon soon after.

"Your honor" Darryn started, "my child was taken from us. We want them back."

"Yes, Sheriff told me some of this already. You said you had papers that said you denied them the right to take Whumpee, but they were still taken."

"Yes your honor", Darryn nodded and handed the forms.

"My that is a lot of papers", the judge looked up.

"Yes, they asked many many times. Even harassing my other children and my wife", Darryn explained, "I've had to chase them away from my property.... as they would set camp nearby."

"I see... I wonder what their interest was in your child. I haven't had a case like this before. So what are you looking for me to do", the judge looked over the notes.

"We really just want our baby back. Whumpee may require special care, but we made it work. We would like to at least stop this from happening to others as well. Our family hasn't been the same without Whumpee."

"So you say made it work? How do you mean?", the judge leaned back.

"Caretaker here, this is my oldest. They want to become a doctor. They took care of Whumpee. They were, unfortunately, the one who Whumpee was stolen from."

"Oh?", the judge looked at Caretaker.

Caretaker nodded, "I was outside with Whumpee. We were just going to sit in the sun, and I was going to read. They like it when you read to them. They dribbled some water from their mouths, so I just ran in for a cloth to wipe them off. When I came back, the wheel chair was knocked over and broken. They were racing off with Whumpee. My Pa came right after."

"Your honor, they were stalking my kids. Ready to steal when they saw their chance", Darryn tried to contain their anger.

The judge nodded, "I agree with you. I will take this case as a top priority. I will call on the hospital to come and give me their statement. They will be required to return your child to you. Let's see if we can get some support because of the troubles they've caused."

It took a few days to get officials of the hospital to come back to the town.

Darryn and their family almost jumped out of their skin when they heard Whumpee's wailing outside of the courtroom.

"I've never heard them yell like that", Caretaker whispered to their father, who nodded in reply.

Everyone watched in astonishment when the door opened and Whumpee was pushed in.

"Wh-why are their hands tied to the chair?", Darryn whispered hoarsely, "what have you done to my child?"

Whumpee fought against the restraints. Their skin was caked with dirt and who knows what else.

"Ca... Ca... Ca", Whumpee looked up at Caretaker, and fought against the restraints.

Caretaker bolted to Whumpee's side.

The officials attempted to stand in the way, but Caretaker knocked them over.

"Get out of my way", Caretaker yelled.

The judge sat with their jaw dropped.

"I'm here, I'm here Whumpee", Caretaker started to untie their wrist, but hurried to cup Whumpee's face to comfort them, "I am so sorry."

Whumpee cried as Caretaker continued to comfort them.

The judge looked toward the town doctor who had been invited to sit in.

"Doc, can you confirm that this is how Whumpee looked... before they were taken away?", the judge felt a lump in their throat.

"No, Whumpee did not look this. Whumpee was not so frail and... and they at least had some sense. This is not the one I took care of", the Doc stared at Whumpee, "I taught Caretaker how to take care of Whumpee. They did good work for their sibling. I can tell you Caretaker would never allow Whumpee to look li..like this."

"Thanyou Doc", the Judge nodded, "I expected that."

The judge turned to look at Darryn, "Darryn what are you thinking?"

Darryn stared at Whumpee. Their throat closed as they choked back tears.

"How could someone do this to... that's my child. Kidnapped from my home. What have they done to my kid?", Darryn felt tears slide down their cheek.

They hugged their wife close as she cried uncontrollably.

"I will now hear from the officials of the hospital", Judge looked at them, "you both have some explaining to do. How did you think it was alright to bring them looking like that?"

"They received the care they required in our hospital. We do believe that with a little while longer, they will be a great addition to civilization. They are still too wild at this point. Still an animal."

"That doesn't answer my questions", the judge frowned, "let's start here. Why were their hands tied to the chair?"

"A wild beast must be taught properly. They will do mischief to themself or others if not tied down and beaten", the hospital officials looked toward Whumpee, "this is the most settled they've been since they came into our care. It is working."

"They are only settled because they are in my arms", Caretaker yelled forcibly as they hugged Whumpee closer into their chest.

"Tell me about the care they received", the judge dared ask.

The officials looked at each other, "you have no right to ask."

"Oh, I do though", the judge furrowed their brows, "this family has a right to know."

"Lunatics require domination. They were whipped and bled repeatedly. They would give us a quiet night when beaten to the verge of passing out. We would give them drugs in their food to make them sick. This brings even the strongest willed patients to a behaved state."

"They're missing some teeth", Doc, who had decided to help Caretaker look over Whumpee, spoke up, "it was nothing done here in town."

"Yes they had a biting problem", the officials explained, "we removed teeth to teach them better."

"I've heard enough", the judge looked at Whumpee, "the fact this dear one went through all of this. To think other patients are going through the same procedures", the judge sighed, "Whumpee is to be returned to their family. Their family is to receive funds to help care for them. Justice will be served. You may never touch them again. I will do everything in my power to ensure this hospital and others like it are searched and brought to order. No one should ever be treated like this. Mad or not."

"They are not human though. Only a beast", the officials argued and walked toward Whumpee.

Caretaker stepped in front of Whumpee to block them, Darryn and Doc also stepped up.

"How dare you limit this great movement in medical science. We are making history", the officials stepped back.

"Not with my child", Darryn growled.

"Sheriff arrest those two. A full investigation will be brought upon the hospital", the judge ordered, "Darryn I will talk with you tomorrow on what your family will require for Whumpee's care. Recess for today."

"You can't do this", the officials yelled as the sheriff and two deputies dragged them out.

"Doc, do they look alright?", Caretaker held Whumpee's hand as Doc did an exam.

Whumpee shook nervously as Doc worked.

"They will need a lot of care. Not just physically, but they need some good loving from your family. They are terrified. They also need some good rest and some good food."

Caretaker nodded, "Ma and Pa hurried home to get to work."

"I will ride out to your home in a few days to see how they are settling. I think when they see that they are safe, and in your care again, they should settle. It will be a lot of work. Are you ready for this?"

Caretaker looked at Whumpee lovingly, "wh-what if I make another mistake."

"Another mistake? What was your first?", Doc looked up curiously.

"I took my eyes off of them", Caretaker frowned, "then all of this. I don't deserve their forgiveness."

"You walked away to get them something. You were caring for your sibling in the normal way. You didn't know people were there to take Whumpee from you", Doc sighed, "unfortunately we definitely can see how far Whumpee can be pushed. I think any mistakes you do make won't even compare to the hell they just survived. Mistakes are human, I even make mistakes."

"Ca... Ca... Ca" Whumpee reached for Caretaker.

"Seems to me they already forgive you and are ready to have you take care of them again. Are you ready to take on the responsibility again?"

Caretaker reached for Whumpee's hand and gently squeezed it, "I am."

"Slow down Whumpee" Caretaker shoveled another spoonful into Whumpee's eager mouth.

"Look at them... they are starved. It must feel good to eat with no worries about the drugs", Ma watched, "my poor baby."

"Eh", Whumpee whined.

"I'm coming. I need to eat to", Caretaker smiled, "Doc says the drugged food was to get them to be nauseous or to get them to sleep. They had overheard some people talking when they were out of town."

"My poor baby", Ma repeated, "they can eat all they want."

"Doc says to be careful. They could get an upset stomach of they eat too much too quickly."

"Maybe after dinner we can gather around and Caretaker could read to us again", Darryn looked up, "it's been a while."

Caretaker nodded, "we can do that pa."

Darryn got the fire going again and joined his family. Caretaker reached for the book their family had been reading through before Whumpee was taken.

Whumpee rested in their Ma's arms.

"We have our baby back", Ma played with Whumpee's fingers like they use to play.

Caretaker smiled at their family as they wiped away some dust from the book.

"We have our family together again', Caretaker smiled at their Pa.

Darryn smiled as they nodded.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

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@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

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@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

Special tag @whumpisgoodwhumpislife thankyou for requesting.

[deathblacksmoke]

you got light in your eyes (nick ruffilo x f!reader)

pairing: nick ruffilo x f!reader

summary: after being left alone by her friend at a party, reader makes an unexpected connection with the birthday boy.

cw: mentions of alcohol consumption, marijuana use, kissin' strangers, a much sweeter version of "who do you know here?"

word count: ~2.2K

author's note: first of the nicky requests for our sweet boy's birthday!! an anon requested strangers to lovers au of reader meeting nicky at a party. what better party than his birthday party? hope y'all enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

title from "this must be the place" by talking heads

sign-up for my tag list here

banner: @darksigns-exe 🩷 | dividers: @saradika 🤍

Awkwardly propped against the wall at a stranger’s birthday party is far from how you imagined your Friday night.

It isn’t like you had much of a choice in this — the moment your friend had gotten the text inviting her, she’d launched herself into begging. She felt it necessary to remind you, over and over and completely unsubtly, that you owe her one. You can’t remember for what.

She really likes the guy who invited her, though, and you’re never one to shy away from being a supportive friend. With the offer of your moral support and a ride, you’ve found yourself here: in a stranger’s home, nursing a drink that’s not quite cold enough, without even a name or a face to put to the host of the party you’re crashing.

Your friend had left you alone the moment you walked through the door, and it’s almost exactly what you expected. She spotted him and immediately got a skip in her step, kissed your cheek and thanked you and went running off in his direction with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her.

There was a fleeting moment in which you wondered if there was any reason for you to stay, before you saw him hand her a beer — unopened, thankfully, a gentleman of sorts — and remembered her penchant for getting a little tipsy to stay comfy in a high-anxiety situation. 

You stayed for her. You made your way into the kitchen in search of something non-alcoholic and found it easily, an open cooler on the floor that hadn’t been out for long judging by the temperature, and found a spot out of the way to stand and pass the time until she was ready to leave.

You scroll on your phone and luckily go mostly unnoticed, a few bumps and rushed, mumbled apologies but nothing of note. Nevertheless, your anxiety starts to get the best of you. You feel out of place, unwelcome in this environment where everyone seems to have a friend but you. You’re typing out a text to your friend telling her that you’ll be waiting in your car whenever she’s ready to go, no rush, when you lift your gaze to see a pretty boy with sparkling eyes and a silly birthday tiara coming straight for you. A face to put to the party you’re crashing. Your breath catches in your throat. You feel your cheeks heat as you avert your gaze and hope he changes his path.

“Hi,” he says. No such luck. He ducks his head to get himself into your line of sight, only briefly, before straightening back up. “Mind if I join you?”

Everything in you is screaming at you to say no, to excuse yourself, to send that text and go outside. You chance another look at him and there’s a kindness in his gaze that warms you from the inside out. You have no other choice.

“Sure,” you tell him, unable to muster much more, feeling tense. You scooch over a little and he takes your spot on the wall, his shoulder touching yours. 

“It’s not often a stranger shows up to your birthday party alone,” he starts, and it would worsen your spiking nerves if not for the playful teasing in his tone. “Not even a birthday card.”

“I’m sorry—” you start to say before you hear a no, no, no next to you, see him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.

“The more the merrier,” he says, and there’s a kindness to him that you almost can’t recognize. You’re a stranger in his home — he has no reason to be so welcoming. “Unless you’re planning to rob me. Should I hide my valuables?”

He’s funny, too.

“I came with my friend. Nick invited her.”

“But I’m Nick,” he responds. A name to pair with the face of the party you’re crashing. Nick.

You scan the floor until you find them squished closely together on a sofa. He’s talking animatedly with his hands and she’s hanging on every word, eyes crinkling at the edges as she laughs along with whatever he’s saying. Her shoulder is pressed into his and she’s holding a bottle of water, no alcohol in sight, a sign she’s comfortable. Your worry about her fades.

“That’s them on the couch,” you tell him, pointing in their direction. His mouth is spread into a grin when you look back in his direction. “She was really excited that he invited her tonight.”

“Folio. He begged me for a plus-one, even though I told him yes immediately. He knows my parties are for everyone. He was really excited for her to come tonight, too. He didn’t tell me his plus-one was bringing a plus-one.” He seems to realize how that sounded, stops you before you can apologize again. “Don’t say you’re sorry, I’m glad you’re here. I’m a little tired of these same people, you know?” he adds, with a sweet joking edge to his voice.

You had come here tonight in the hopes of looking after your friend and going unnoticed — bothering no one and not being bothered. The birthday boy had been the last thing on your mind, furthest from what you wanted. But his eyes shine when they meet yours. You’re sure if you put your hands on his cheeks, the warmth of the blush would spread through you.

“I guess I’ll stick around then,” you say. His responding smile sets you alight.

Time with him passes as easily as anything. It’s almost like you’ve known him for years, and it makes your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. 

He tells you all about his favorite shows, video games, movies, bands, his job as a tattooer — you could listen to him drone on for ages about all of his favorite things. He asks about yours in equal measure, and his genuine interest almost makes you shy away.

When it gets a little warm in the room, he takes off his hoodie and your eyes immediately go to the pops of colors and intricate lines dancing across his arms. Seemingly against your own will, your hands follow, tracing the patterns and wondering the stories behind them all, when he got them, who did them, if any of them are homemade. You lift your eyes and find him already gazing down at you, the heat of the room and the alcohol having flushed his cheeks. You wonder if any of it is because of you. You’re completely sober and positive that the heat of your cheeks matches his own. Without being asked, he dives into the story of the one you’ve fixated on the most, and you think you could listen to him speak forever. 

He stops suddenly mid-sentence, and it takes you a moment to catch up.

“Why did you stop?” you ask, trying your very best not to sound too disappointed, too needy.

He’s not at all judgemental when he responds, which is the only reason it doesn’t make you feel any shame. “You’re staring.”

“I think I’ve been staring since the moment you came over here,” you admit. He nods. “You’re staring, too.”

“I know,” he says. “I’ve been wondering if I could kiss you. I didn’t know how to ask.”

You figure that’s as good an ask as any. He’s suddenly so shy, and that gives you just the amount of bravery you need. You surge forward, pressing your lips to his and delighting in the sweet, surprised sound he makes into your mouth.

His lips are soft against yours, and he wastes little time before pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips, requesting entrance that you readily grant. When you bring your palms to his cheeks, your smile spreads, knowing that the heat of his cheeks is just as you’d expected, just as red-hot as the blush you’d been admiring for the past hour or so. 

He’s so gentle with you, running a hand through your hair, curving it around the base of your skull to keep you close. His other hand curls delicately around your waist, sinking in just a little bit, pulling you as close as he can get you. You wish closer was an option, but figure sitting on the floor, propped against a wall in his crowded living room isn’t the best place.

You’re interrupted prematurely by a voice you don’t recognize calling your name. You separate from Nick, albeit reluctantly, to see Nick — Folio — wandering around the living room looking frazzled. Your anxiety spikes.

“Folio, she’s over here,” Nick graciously answers for you. The worry left you frozen for a moment too long.

“Is everything all right?” you ask him, you and Nick both rising from the floor. He stays close to you, his pinking linking with yours as a comfort, and you feel grateful. “She’s okay, right?”

The way he almost immediately seems calmer helps to soothe you. “Yeah, no, she’s okay. It’s just — I kinda fucked up,” he starts. You decide you’ll let him finish before you panic. He said she’s okay and, for some reason, him being a friend of Nick’s has made you trust him a little bit. “She wanted to smoke, so I gave her a couple hits off mine. She didn’t have anything to drink, so I wasn’t worried about her getting crossed or anything, but I didn’t know she hadn't gotten high before. She’s freaking out and sorta mad at me. I feel really bad. She’s in Nick’s bed, Jolly’s date is in there with her, but you might want to get her home.”

You can’t help the roll of your eyes. 

“She’s been high before, but this happens every time,” you laugh, feeling a little bad for your friend. “Thank you for taking care of her, I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Folio nods, looks at Nick apologetically, but Nick just nods and smiles in return.

“Can you tell her I’ll call her tomorrow?” Folio asks you, and it makes you grin. He seems sweet. “If — if she wants me to call. If she asks.”

You promise him that you will, that you’re sure she’ll want to hear from him. You know her well enough, and you’ve been on the receiving end of this enough times to know she’ll be a little embarrassed and eager for forgiveness and reassurance in the morning. You’re glad it doesn’t seem to have ruined her or Folio’s chances here.

He walks off in what you assume is the direction of Nick’s bedroom. Nick tugs on your pinky.

“Here, why don’t you put your number in my phone? I’ll call you.” He offers, handing his unlocked phone off to you. You type it in quickly, considering a little heart after your name but deciding it’s a touch too much before handing it back.

He shows you to his room, and you loiter outside the door for just a moment.

“I guess this is it,” he says, sounding a little more dramatic than he should, but about as dramatic as you’re feeling. You’d been enjoying yourself. “I hope your friend feels better.”

“She will. I’ll blast the AC on the way home, get her something to eat, she’ll be okay,” you respond. You’ve done the routine more than enough times — pleased and amused to do it each time. “You’ll call?”

“I’ll call,” He promises, holding his pinky out. “Promise. Get your girl home.”

You manage to wrangle her in the car without much incident. You can tell she’s embarrassed. You almost wish she’d had something to drink instead — she’s a bit more reasonable then. A lot less paranoid. You still get the same sad grumbles of he hates me and he thinks I’m insane either way.

You assure her that she doesn’t, that he’s going to call tomorrow, but she doesn’t believe you. It’s okay, though. She doesn’t notice her phone in the cupholder lighting up with text after text from the boy, but you do. You saw his worry. He took good care of her and you’re sure he’ll call like he said he would.

You stop at a drive-thru on the way back to yours, order her a cheeseburger and a cold bottle of water. Not quite the miracle cure, but it normally perks her up a bit, and this time is no different.

A good night’s sleep in your bed will fix her the rest of the way, and you’re not surprised that she’s out the moment you wrangle her inside and lie her down.

He’s ahead of schedule. You settle in the living room, not wanting to deal with her snores, when you remember to look at your phone. A text from an unknown number, but you can guess.

Lunch tomorrow? You still owe me that birthday card.

It isn’t even really a question. You want to spend as much time with him as you can. What a pleasant surprise tonight was, even if it ended a little silly. You don’t wait to send the response.

Of course :)

tags <3

@circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @baddestomens @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites

@mysticdoodlez @sorrowsofsilence @somebodyels3 @malice-ov-mercy @collapsedglasshouses

@spicywhenspeaking @lma1986 @abiomens @cookiesupplier @xserenax-13

@cncohshit @dominuslunae @poisongirl616 @agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople

@thisbicc @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @kenzie18

[himluv]

Preparations

Here's another Lucanis fic, and this time we finally get a hint of Rookanis??? (did I mention this is a sloooooooow burn?)

Enjoy!

When Teia reached out to ask Lucanis about preparations for Caterina’s funeral, his immediate response had been, “ask Illario.”

Her response was just as quick. “Illario is useless. Please, come home.”

He didn’t answer right away, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He knew he should feel Caterina’s loss deeply – the woman who’d raised him was dead. But when he searched around for the grief he remembered feeling so acutely as a boy, there was nothing. Just a hollow sense that something was missing. Like a part of him was out of place. 

He felt nothing and felt guilty for it. Especially when he knew both Illario and Teia would carry the First Talon’s loss like wounds. 

When his silence became too prolonged, Viago’s message arrived. “Lucanis, please don’t make Teia do this alone.”

And even all these years later, Lucanis couldn’t deny an earnest request from the Fifth Talon. Yet, he couldn’t shake what Neve had said in her study. 

‘Demons are usually drawn to intense emotions.’

Lucanis was no stranger to loss. He knew its pain could come and go, devour and drown only to leave you gasping and raw in its wake.  What if all his missing grief came at once? What if that triggered Spite and he lost control with Teia? He didn’t want the Talons to see him like that.

Like what? Spite asked.

Like this.

If Teia needed support, then Lucanis would bring support of his own, just in case. And that’s how he found himself sitting at a discreet table at the Cantori Diamond, sipping wine with the Seventh Talon and Rook. 

He had to admit, she looked out of place in the carefully curated mystique of the casino. Everywhere he looked was dark wood, darker leather, and the purple and black uniforms of Crows at all ranks. Fragrant smoke roiled through the air, adding another layer of anonymity for the guests. 

In contrast, Rook stood out like an agate in a riverbed. The vibrant forest hues of her Arlathan leathers, her bright auburn hair, the muted blue ink etched on her face and her bare feet all came together to announce her as an outsider. A stranger to Treviso.

In the refined gloom of the casino, Lucanis found it almost impossible to look away from her. Currently, Rook was focused on Teia, absorbing her description of a typical Andrastian funeral. 

Of course, Caterina’s service would be far from typical.

“Huh,” Rook said when Teia had finished. “In the Alienage we were lucky if we got to see the body before the city guards took them away.”

“Alienage?” Lucanis said. He caught Teia’s intrigued glance, but couldn’t parse it. He rarely could. He understood the what of what someone said, but almost never the why.

Rook smiled at him. “I came to the Dalish late,” she said. “I lived with my mother in Wycome until I was eighteen.”

“Wycome?” Teia asked. “Was your family there during the massacre?”

Lucanis vaguely remembered hearing about Dalish and City elves dying in Wycome years ago. Something to do with the Inquisition.

Rook shook her headed. “My mom had followed me to the Clan by then.” She swirled her wine. “Though we lost a lot of friends and neighbors.”

Teia put a hand on Rook’s forearm and squeezed. Such a casual touch, how easy she made it seem.  

Rook gave a grim little smile, then took a drink. The topic was done. 

Lucanis cleared his throat. “How can I help Teia?”

“There are decisions to be made about the decor. Linens, centerpieces,” she looked at Rook. “Those types of things.”

This really would be better left to Illario. He’d always had a better sense of style. Most of Lucanis’s clothes were picked for him by his cousin, he just wore them so Illario and Caterina wouldn’t pester him about his appearance. 

Lucanis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Teia, I don’t–”

“What are our options?” Rook sat up a little straighter, her gaze clear and present once more.

Teia smiled, the corners trembling just a little. Then she dove into a long description of tablecloths and runners.

Rook helps, Spite growled. Why?

Lucanis ignored the demon, peering into his wine and thinking of his cousin. Illario was impulsive. Emotional. It made sense that the idea of planning their grandmother’s funeral was overwhelming to him. But ignoring the Venatori threat knocking on their door?

That was not the Illario Lucanis remembered.

Don’t like. Don’t trust!

Lucanis rolled his neck and tapped his fingers on the table. Anything to avoid considering the demon’s point.

“Lucanis?”

He stilled and glanced up to find Rook watching him. Was that… concern in her eyes?

“Are you okay?” She asked.

I LIKE Rook, Spite breathed. He stood just over her far shoulder, so she sat between Lucanis and the demon. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Please, continue.”

She held his gaze for a moment, as if she didn’t quite believe him. Then she turned back to take something from Teia. “What do you think of these?” She held up little swatches of cloth for him to consider, alternating black and purple, with strips of silver. 

He took a long look, as if mulling it over. He didn’t have the eye for this, but he refused to seem ungrateful. “It looks good,” he said. “Teia, for the flowers–”

“Crystal Grace and Prophet’s Laurel, of course.”

That sent a pleasant bloom of warmth through his chest. Teia loved Caterina as much – if not more – than her grandsons. She’d benefitted from not being raised by the woman. But still. It was good to know that someone cared enough to ensure Caterina’s funeral would be as beautiful and grand as befitted House Dellamorte.

Then it struck him. His house had another funeral not that long ago. Did Caterina plan it? Had Teia helped? And Illario?

Spite growled, but said nothing

“Teia?” He asked, interrupting something she said to Rook.

“Yes, Lucanis?” She gave him a gentle look. All she’d had for him were soft, gentle looks ever since he’d returned from the Ossuary. 

“Did…” he stopped. Rotated his wine glass by the stem. “Did you help with the last Dellamorte funeral?”

Stillness descended on the table. He heard Rook’s little gasp of understanding, but she said nothing. 

“Lucanis,” Teia said. 

A sudden wave of anger rolled over him. “Did Illario excuse himself from those plans as well?”

Don’t. Like, Spite said. Don’t. TRUST!

The silence went on a beat too long before Teia replied. “He did. Your grandmother and I made arrangements.” She reached for him, but stopped just short of touching him. “He was inconsolable, Lucanis.” She chuckled. “Vi had to sedate him after the wake.”

Spite growled his disbelief, but Lucanis trusted Teia. She wouldn’t lie to him about his. 

She sighed and shook her head. “I know things are difficult between you two right now. You both just need a little time.”

He glanced at Rook, who’d been suspiciously quiet on the subject of his cousin. She met his gaze, her expression guarded. If he knew her better, Lucanis might understand her wariness. Why this normally warm and caring woman had shut down during this conversation. But, he didn’t, and so she remained a mystery.

Doesn’t like him either, Spite said. 

Lucanis had gathered that much when they’d been at Café Pietra. Rook had been polite, but dismissive of Illario’s attempts to charm her. Then she’d criticized him once he’d left, said he heard one word in ten. It’d been a pleasant surprise to see she read his cousin so easily. Too often Lucanis watched people fall for his charms. 

See?

But, dislike did not necessarily equal distrust.  Lucanis sighed. “Was there anything else, Teia?”

She grimaced. “We wondered if you might want to speak–”

“No.” The word fell flat and final from his lips. He could think of few things he wanted to do less than speak at Caterina’s funeral. Maybe spend another year in the Ossuary?

Spite hissed at that.

Teia’s smile was tight but genuine. “Viago said you’d refuse.”

Lucanis grunted. “Make Illario do it,” he said. “He ought to contribute somehow.” He took a deep drink of his wine. 

Teia’s smile vanished. “He does love to hear himself talk.”

Rook snorted at that, but hurried to hide it behind her wine glass.

Lucanis smirked at her, and Spite grinned.

Oh, I LIKE her, Spite said.

Lucanis had to admit, he did too. And anytime he and the demon agreed, it was sure to be a bad idea. 

Teia stood and pressed her palms onto the table. “I’ll handle the rest,” she said. “Thank you, both of you.”

He shook his head as he and Rook stood. “My House is in your debt, Teia.”

She waved him off and they all said their goodbyes, but as they walked back to the eluvian, he couldn’t shake the idea that Rook didn’t like his cousin. So many people found Illario charming. What made Rook different?

Lucanis waited until they were in the Crossroads to ask the question that had been repeating in his head. 

“You don’t care much for my cousin, do you?”

She glanced at him, then shrugged. “I don’t know your cousin.”

“But..?”

She glared at him, but it carried no heat. “I know his type.”

Type? Spite followed a half-step behind Rook, too close for Lucanis’s comfort.

“And what type is that?”

She stopped and looked at him. “You really want to know?”

“I asked.”

“Okay,” she sang. “I think Illario is an arrogant smooth-talker too used to getting his way.”

Spite barked with laughter. Does. NOT. Like.

Lucanis blinked at her. “Wow.”

She tilted her head as if to say, ‘I warned you.’

“Harsh,” he said. “But accurate. Except for one thing.”

“And what’s that?” She tilted her chin up at him, all defiance. 

He frowned. “Illario only gets his way when it comes to his bed. All his other desires go unanswered. Caterina made sure of that.”

Good!

“And what about you?” Rook asked. She was close, suddenly. Close enough that he could easily see that pale violet hue at the edge of her irises. Much too close. “When do you get your way?”

He held her gaze, searching those crystal grace eyes for an answer. Why did she ask this? What did she want him to say.?

The truth was, he didn’t get his way. He didn’t have a way. He did what Caterina and House Dellamorte required of him, and that was that. He didn’t desire more because there was no point. Why desire what you could never have?

But, he couldn’t say that to her. 

He hummed as he mulled over her question. “Café Pietra,” he said. “I always get what I want there.” He smiled at her, tried to cover the truth with a dose of charm, but she didn’t seem to like that answer.

Rook blinked at him. “That’s not…” she frowned, then shook her head. Then she stepped away and made her way toward the Lighthouse eluvian. 

Lucanis followed after her with the distinct impression he’d failed. He just wasn’t sure how or even at what. 

Wrong, Spite hissed. Do everything wrong.

And for the second time that day, Lucanis found himself in agreement with the demon.

[n0vazsq]

Ice Princess | Pau Cubarsi x Reader

pairing . . . pau cubarsi x gf!skater!reader

summary . . . When you're scared about your upcoming competition, Pau makes it his mission to comfort you

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.3k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . ice princess is one of my fav movies of all time so ofc i had to make a fic out of it <33 also fluff bc i feel bad about all the angst ive written so yeah!! hope you guys enjoy <3

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . The arena was nearly empty, the distant hum of the Zamboni echoing through the cold air. You sat on the edge of the rink, nervously tightening the laces on your skates, the cold biting at your fingertips.

The competition was less than twenty four hours away, and despite weeks of preparation, anxiety filled your stomach. The stillness and shine of the ice mirrored your reflection, a still figure on the rink.

Pau leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on you with that soft, thoughtful expression he always had when he thought you couldn’t see. His presence had become a comforting, quiet thing you didn’t know you needed until it was there.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low, filled with gentle encouragement.

You let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes. "I think so…"

He grinned, the corners of his lips pulling up in a way that always made your heart skip a beat. "You always say that. And then you go out there and prove everyone wrong."

You laughed, the sound filled with nervousness. "This isn’t exactly the same, Pau. It’s not just practice. The regionals are tomorrow. I can’t mess this up."

He walked over, crouching down in front of you so you had no choice but to look at him. His hands found yours, warm and steady despite the cold. "You won’t. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked for this. You’ve got this."

For a moment, you didn’t say anything, just held his gaze. It wasn’t just the competition that had your nerves on edge, it was the pressure you put on yourself. The long hours of training, the early mornings, the sacrifices.

Sometimes it felt like you were skating on thin ice, trying not to fall through.

"You’re not in this alone, you know," Pau said softly, as if reading your mind. "I’m here. No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ve already won in my eyes."

You felt the sting of tears, blinking them back. "You’re too sweet."

He stood, offering you his hand. "Come on. Show me one more time."

You took his hand, letting him pull you up onto the ice. The familiar glide of your skates steadied you, the world falling away as you moved. The cold of the air against your face, the sharp sound of your blades cutting into the ice.

It all felt like home.

Pau skated alongside you, a little clumsy but focused. He never minded how many times he almost tripped, just wanting to be there with you.

"You’re getting better," you teased, laughing as he nearly fell face first onto the ice.

He gave you a mocking glare, his eyes twinkling. "I’m just trying to keep up with the ice princess."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. "I still can’t believe you’re out here, freezing with me."

He shrugged, his grin softening. “I'm wearing layered clothes and a coat. You're in…this," He gestured to your skating dress, hands going up and down. "Besides, I’d rather be here than anywhere else.”

You felt the tension in your chest ease, the weight of tomorrow’s competition lifting just a little. You skated ahead, spinning into a perfect loop, the motion effortless, like it was normal.

When you landed, Pau was watching you, his eyes filled with something more than admiration. He skated closer, closing the distance between you. "You know, watching you out here… it’s like you’re flying. I can’t explain it."

You felt your cheeks warm, the compliment hitting deep. "It doesn’t feel like flying without you being my cheerleader."

He laughed, the sound beautiful and warm. "Then I’ll always be here, cheering for you. No matter what."

For a moment, the ice, the arena, the upcoming competition, all of it faded away.

It was just you and him, standing together in the quiet. The world outside the rink didn’t exist; all that mattered was you and Pau.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smiled, leaning in, his forehead resting against yours. "You don’t have to thank me. I believe in you."

The cold air around you felt a little warmer, the ice a little softer beneath your feet. Tomorrow might be the biggest competition of your life, but in that moment, you knew you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Pau pulled back slightly, his gaze lingering on yours. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a quiet strength that made your heart pound. "You know… I’ve watched you push yourself so hard for this. I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, it doesn’t change how amazing you are."

You swallowed hard, emotion welling up in your chest. "Pau…"

He brushed a gloved hand against your cheek, his touch so light, almost like a feather. "I mean it. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to win to be worth something. You already are."

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he gently wiped it away. "I guess I’m just scared," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of failing. Of disappointing everyone."

He shook his head, his eyes set. "You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried, hermosa."

"You always know what to say." You laughed softly, the sound laced with tears.

"Only because it’s true," he said, his voice firm. "You’re stronger than you think."

You skated away from him, needing a moment to gather yourself. The ice stretched out in front of you, vast and empty, like a blank canvas.

You took a deep breath, then launched into a spin, letting the movement ground you. When you stopped, Pau was watching, his expression a mixture of awe and pride.

"You’re incredible," he said, his voice adoring.

You skated back to him, your heart pounding. "Only because I have you with me."

"Always." He grinned, pulling you close.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable and warm. Outside, the city continued on, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was the promise in his eyes, the unspoken vow that he would be there, no matter what.

As you stood there, the ice beneath you and Pau’s arms around you, you knew that you could handle anything. Tomorrow’s competition was just another step, another challenge. But with Pau by your side, you knew you wouldn’t face it alone.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching yours, filled with an emotion that made your breath catch. His hand, still gloved, cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down.

"You’re stronger than you think," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The world around you seemed to fade, the cold air replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the arena.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was gentle, yet it held all the unspoken words, the promises, the quiet support he had given you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips. "No matter what happens tomorrow… you’ve already won in my eyes."

Your heart swelled, a mixture of nerves and comfort washing over you. "With you here, I feel like I have."

For a moment, the ice, the world outside, the pressure of the competition, all of it disappeared. There was only Pau, the steady beat of his heart, and the quiet promise of something more.

"I'll love you forever, and I'll support you no matter what, mi princesa de hielo."

After he said that, you knew that whether you won or lost, you'd have someone by your side.

And that someone was the love of your life.