#his heart was in the right place but they weren't

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with plot; honestly more fluff-centric with a lil smut towards the end <3), mention of nightmares, comfort, kissing, cuddling, heavy petting, dry humping, praise, dirty talk, inappropriate use of evol (kinda), use of pet names "baby" "princess", + "pipsqueak" like… once. lmk if i missed any tags !

wc : 2.4k

an : AAAAA i gave in 😭 some of you may know that im a chronic nightmare haver and. absolutely nothing . n o thi ng !!!!!!!!! is going to stop me from writing fluffy smut with the love of my life JSNFBWHF (++ mildly inspired by @starmocha 's post, ily you keep me (in)sane <3)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

You can't sleep, but at least he's right there to help you.

"Caleb…"

It started with a soft nudge.

"Caleb?"

There was no reply.

Your head lifted then, momentarily leaving the comfort of the pillow… only to be met with stillness. You could feel a huff threatening to spill from your lips, ever indignant over moments of lack of attention from him—yet, the dark of the room reminded you exactly where you were. A glance at the clock on his bedside table showed you an hour you shouldn't be awake at; not normally, at least. And if that wasn't enough, then the silent, sleeping figure next to you would have proved it.

It wasn't fair to wake him up. You were the odd one out.

And, yet…

And, yet…

You pursed your lips.

A beat.

Two beats.

Three.

"Caaaaleeebbb…."

His name turned into a whine, and this time, you sat up, reaching to roll him over onto his back.

Thankful as you were of his general attentiveness to you, you watched a little wave of recognition wash over him.

"…Hmh? Pip..squeak…?"

A hand reached out to rub at his eyes, voice thick and raspy, the lower octave jumping out to you. And with that unfocused gaze, and those slow movements… He wasn't quite awake.

Sheepishly, you pawed at his arm.

"Sorry, can't sleep…" you mumbled.

"Mmm… That's a shame, 'cause I sure can…"

You looked at him with a frown.

Still asleep, my ass.

The lazy smile on his face contrasted with the droopy eyes his expression still wore, and yet, he was still clearly awake enough to tease. You knew he was only getting under your skin on purpose, but nevertheless, you wanted at least a smidge of comfort—you huffed in an indignant manner, reaching out to give his shoulder a little punch in protest.

At your motions, he laughed quietly.

"Alright, alright. C'mere."

He reached out to ruffle your hair, and there was a slight moment of pause. You watched him scan your figure—there was a sort of appreciation to it, a soft, fond gaze that felt a lot like… Home. And then with a yawn and a stretch, his arms tugged you closer to his body until you hadn't much of a choice but to roll over on top of him, his arms circling around your torso to gently hold you in place against him.

"Better?" he murmured.

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the little thrum of his voice as he spoke—it was a low whisper in your ear, still somewhat fighting the sleep from his tone, but just soft enough to lull you into a sense of comfort.

A small smile spread on your lips.

"Mhm," you nodded against him; "A little."

He allowed you to move and adjust yourself over him, legs resting neatly on either side of his waist, your body curled right into him with your head resting right above where his heart would be.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You smiled.

He felt safe.

"...Only a little, though? What's up? Nightmare?"

There was a yawn to his voice, and slowly, you felt him begin to absentmindedly run his hand up and down your back.

In truth, he didn't need to ask. He knew you well enough—you were like this often; there weren't reasons otherwise to why you would be awake at this hour. And he knew, too—there would be no sleeping for you until you could forget whatever images you'd seen in your head just moments ago. You needed a distraction.

He would provide it.

You felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair, planting a series of chaste kisses, the pad of his thumb placing a little bit more pressure onto your back if only to reassure you that he was there.

That everything would be alright.

"Mm… Hard to close my eyes when I can still see it…" You sighed and tilted your head, chin resting atop his chest as you cherished the way his other hand had moved to gently stroke through your hair.

"Yeah? S'okay, I'll stay up with you." You could see the way the sleep had more or less worn off of his features, almost as if the only thing that mattered to him in the moment was staying alert enough to help you fall back asleep first.

It was kind of adorable.

Your eyes softened, enough to let out a playful roll of your eyes. "Aww, look at you being all warm and caring~"

"And, what? You'd rather I not be? Says the girl who's always come runnin' back to me after falling and scraping her knee at the playground!"

"Hey, that's different! It really hurt, you know?! You were there!"

"Uh-huh. And might I add you were runnin' from some supposed ghost of the swing set, just 'cause it wouldn't stop moving?"

"Ugh, don't you bring that back! I didn't understand the laws of physics yet! What else can you do when you're ten and not a science gal?!" The smug little smirk on his face was infuriating enough, and were you not so comfortably snuggled up in his arms, you'd have reached out to smack it off of him yourself. "I am not a kid anymore, thank you very much."

But if you thought he'd use your indignance to push your buttons a little further, to your surprise, his only response was a chuckle. His head leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead; "'Course I know that, you're all grown up now. Just… Where would you be without me, am I right?" He smiled, and this time, his hand slide over from the top of your head over to the side of your face. Gently, gently, he coaxed your head up a little bit, palm cupping your cheek with a little caress of his thumb. "Some things don't change. And since you are my princess, then I gotta give you the princess treatment."

Giggling a little, you shifted slightly to nuzzle your nose against his. "…Geez. Okay, I concede. 'Specially when you call me that."

"Princess? You really like that one, huh?"

And despite the laugh in his voice; despite the playful roll of his eyes right back at you, he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

One kiss.

Two.

Light, feathery touches that fall into soft, breathy laughs—

Another kiss, and then another.

Slowly, you found yourselves lost in a quiet moment of feeling each other like this, foreheads pressed together, fingers gently running through strands of hair.

So close— so… comforting.

"Feelin' better, baby?" he murmured.

And you realized that the pointless bickering, the little bit of reminiscing—all that he'd done by means of pulling you far away from your dreams and into the reality that you shared with him.

Because it was really, truly, all that mattered in the end.

Smiling softly, your gaze dropped back to his lips as you placed a little kiss to each corner, cherishing the soft huff of laughter that fell from his own.

"Mhm," you whispered. "Much, much better."

So close, so comforting.

You could look into his eyes—warm, and pretty, and so inherently him—and they would be the only things you'd care to look at.

"D'you wanna sleep now? Or…" There was a playful lilt to the way he spoke, and his eyebrow raised—you could feel him press your lower back a little bit more against him, the subtle way his hand dipped lower to rest upon the curve of your ass. You didn't miss the smirk that edged at his lips. "If you're not sleepy yet, I could think of a couple ways to make you sleepy…"

Typical Caleb.

You swat at his arm playfully, a louder laugh falling from your lips. "Caleb! It's, like, three in the morning! I though you were sleepy?!"

"Uh, yeah, I am. But clearly you aren't."

"But that's 'cause—!"

You caught the roll of his eyes as he leaned up to give you another little kiss, and then promptly gave you a look.

"Heyyy. It'd help you sleep, right?" he offered a lazy smile. "And I told you I'd help you. You're in a pretty ideal position too, you know."

You were used to being curled up on his chest like this, but now that he'd suggested it, you had to realize that he was right—and perhaps as a little test, perhaps because you couldn't help it, you gave a little experimental roll of your hips.

The immediate gasp was more of a reaction than you'd expected, and then even you couldn't help the knowing smirk from spreading across your features.

"Shit— oh, that's how we're doin' this, huh?" He spoke through gritted teeth, but his hands had already slid down to rest at your hips. "Gonna use me to get yourself off, s'that it?"

"You suggested it!" you shot back, "don't you take back your words!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that. No way in hell am I takin' back anythin', princess." Another lazy grin despite the firm hold he had on your hips, and he cocked his head to the side. "Well? Go on, baby, do your thing."

It was near embarrassing how easily he could have you dripping wet with just his words, with his voice, yet you knew with certainty that you could have the same effect—every tentative roll of your hips brought out such delicious sighs from his lips, and you could watch with glee the way his eyes would flutter shut. You'd never been more grateful for the thin fabric of your pajamas; the stiff outline of his erection pressed so perfectly against you that the barrier almost didn't matter at all.

"Caleb…" you gasped. You'd fall into him as the movement of your hips sped up, and you could already feel the messy slick that had seeped right through your clothing.

"Keep goin' baby, just like that. Lemme feel you…" One hand slid back up your body, dipping beneath your shirt to caress your skin. "Such a pretty lil princess. You like this, huh? Grindin' all over me like this?"

His palm pressed into your skin—more, he mouthed. Faster.

And you nearly cried as you swallowed your own moans against his lips, feeling the way his hands dug back into your hips, urging you, urging you, guiding your hips into a frenzied rhythm.

Mindless.

Needy.

"M-mmhf, not— mm—! N-not enough, need m— mm—!" You moaned between kisses, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as the pressure around you steadily increased.

You knew what he was doing.

The minute he pulled back from your lips to take in the dazed look in your eyes, lips nearly red and swollen, you could see the surge of pride flash in his eyes.

"C-Caleb…" you whined. The hold on your hips was nearly bruising, but it was nothing compared to the way he'd push you so harshly against him, practically digging the shape of his cock into the dampness of your clothing. Slowly, slowly, you felt the cool air of the night hit your thighs, your wet slick mapping over his cock as your pajamas slid down to expose your panties.

Your hands gripped tightly onto his arms—

He wasn't lifting a finger.

"Ch-cheater…!" You huffed. "You can't…! C-can't use—hnng— y-your evol, like…!"

He only chuckled. "No? You said you needed more, though. C'mon, baby… S'okay, I got you. Gonna make you feel so good."

You groaned, burying your head into his chest, allowing him to move your hips as he saw fit.

Every needy drag and grind of your clothed cunt right against him had you soaking his clothing, pushing onto him, chasing that friction. And now that he wasn't kissing you—now that he had his hands free to roam your body, to tangle into your hair, to feel you…

He chuckled, pressing his lips down to your ear. "That’s right, moan so pretty f'me. Lift your head a lil, let me hear you, baby. Tell me how good you feel."

The tip of his cock grazed your clit, and your nails nearly dug into him with a cry. "W-wait—!"

Obedient.

You lifted your head to look at him, but your gaze refused to focus. A blur of hazy pleasure had you panting, moaning incoherent words…

He wasn't even in you yet.

"C-Caleb, wait, I need… I need you, ple— please, please, just fuck me, I-I can't…!"

You shivered, feeling his fingers reach up to trail the side of your neck with ghostly touches.

"You really do wanna make me do all the work, huh…"

"N-no, I, I just…!"

"Wanna cum, right? Well, nothin' here to stop you, baby. C'mon… You can do it, I know you can. I'm helpin' you already, you know?"

Your chest heaved, and you knew he was right. Every movement had you nearly crying, your hips rutting against him and nearly jerking each time he would lift to grind up into you. The pressure from his evol made you dizzy, and you could feel the pleasure building, and building, and building—

Out of the blurry haze of your vision, you could see him give you another smirk, and his lips were back against your ear.

"Cum for me, baby."

He pressed you tight against him, forcing himself to feel you, groaning into your ear at the way your body shook with a pleasure so undeniable.

"There we go, there we go, that's it..." Soft murmurs into your hair, hands rubbing comfortingly over your back. And as the intensity of your orgasm slowly faded away, you felt him pepper kisses into your hair, his arms wrapped around you in a hug so secure.

You were aching, sensitive. He was right; you could feel the fatigue settling over your body, every heave of your chest slowly lulling you to sleep—

He wasn't about to let you.

He flipped you over within seconds, his eyes raking over your body so intensely that you keened under the drag of his gaze.

It didn't matter that you'd begun to feel a little sleepy; you knew he wasn't done with you.

"C- Caleb, you…"

He brought a finger down to your cunt, your slick gathering in an instant. He brought it up to his lips; gave a little bit of lick. "Such a mess. Ugh, sorry, baby, I think I won't be able to sleep 'til I get my fill… Let me stay up a bit longer?"

A press to your clit had you doubting the puppy-like gaze he'd given you, and you groaned—

So hard to resist.

"You're making this up to me in the morning…"

taglist : @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @pikachuzhc @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @hunters-association

an : that thing with the swing.. that's uh. that's based on personal experience. 😭

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[justauthoring]

The Flutters of my Heart.

Request: hey could you do a fic with thanos from squid game: where the reader is apart of gi hub’s group but thanos is really into her and keeps flirting with her loudly. Her and the boys are all suspicious, thinking it’s a trick but they find out he just really likes her

Pairing: Choi Su-bong "Thanos" x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,327

A/N: I did not think the second Squid Game fic I'd write would be for Thanos but... honestly, it feels right.

Two things -> Thanos might be OOC lol he's super hard to write for and you essentially replaced Jun-hee - I love her but it just works better for this fic.

Your first interaction with him had been anything but pleasant.

With blood splattered across his face, from the people you'd seen him knock over during Red Light, Green Light no less, he'd smiled at you with crazed eyes, called you 'Senorita' and asked if you'd join his team. You're positive even if you hadn't seen his actions during the first game, you would've said no. You're even more confident in your outright denial when you see him vote 'O' with a grin.

He's all flirt and false charm. He promises you that he'll keep you safe because he's the one and only great Thanos and does so even as his friend scoffs and tells him they shouldn't bother with someone like you.

You had to admit, he was convincing. If you weren't in a game of life or death, you'd be lying to yourself to say that a part of you wouldn't maybe given in to his flirtations. But, this was life or death and you can't afford to make alliances with someone who is clearly so... unsteady.

Definitely not with someone who so outwardly wants to stay in this terrible place.

You find yourself your own team, somehow survive the second game and really, Thanos hasn't been on your mind since that first interaction. You'd barely paid attention when you'd seen his team win, the only thing really of note catching your attention that he'd seemed to find some other girl to bother instead of you.

Your group, despite two initially voting to stay, are routed in their beliefs to get out of here after the second game. Despite them all being men, they'd accepted you with ease and any little concerns they might have had had been squashed the second you'd won the game of Ddakji your first try.

You feel safe with your group and allow yourself to follow them around, feeling protected with your numbers and at ease with their friendly and inviting personalities.

It isn't until after the second round of voting and Jung-bae's surprising betrayal, that you're approached by Thanos for a second time.

You're in line for food when he approaches you, surprisingly not with Player 124 like he normally is.

"Senorita," he grins, pulling your eyes on him with a blink of surprise. You frown when you realize who it is, and even more so when you register that stupid pet name. "I'm relieved to see you made it through the second game."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff; "let's hope I make it through the third." The insinuation is made clear as you raise a brow at the blue 'O' patch on his sweater.

Thanos only grins. "Even though you're an 'X', I still promise to keep you safe." He winks, taking a step closer to you. "All you have to do is let me."

You huff; "I'm good, thanks."

"Aweh, come on, beautiful," he smirks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before you can pull away. "You can trust me. I would've last game too if you'd give me the chance. In fact, I tried to find you for the last game but you'd already surrounded yourself with all those old men."

You roll your eyes. "I'd choose them over you anyday."

"You wound me," Thano pouts, clutching at his heart. Still, the glee in his eyes in undeniable. "How about this? You sit with me for dinner, I'll convince you I'm not such a bad guy."

Astonished at his relentlessness, your lips part to respond, but before you can, a voice cuts you off;

"She's already got friends to sit with."

You turn your head to find Dae-ho, him moving to stand right next to you. His hand falls on your shoulder in a reassuring touch, sending you a gentle smile before frowning over at Thanos. Behind, you can see Gi-hun and Young-il who are both watching the interaction closely. They've already got their dinners in their hands, clearly having stopped when they saw you and Thanos.

Already reassured by their presence, especially Young-il after you'd seen him take down both Thanos and Player 124 in seconds when they'd tried to attack Player 333, you turn back to glance at Thanos.

His face has faltered slightly at the sight of your group, but he doesn't back down.

"I'm sure the Senorita can speak for herself," Thanos challenges, smirking at you.

"She can," you cut in, confidence gained by Dae-ho and the rest. "And she says she doesn't want to sit with you either. Now, move. You're blocking the line."

Dae-ho lets out a barking laugh and before Thanos can say anything more, you're turning, shoving past him to move up the line.

Before Thanos would ever admit defeat, he smiles back at you, shrugging; "I'll get you to say yes, eventually!"

-

You're making your way back from the bathroom about thirty minutes later, on your own because you'd assured the boys you'd be okay on your own, when your wrist is grabbed.

Your lips part to let out a yelp, but any sound is quickly muffled by a hand pressed against your mouth.

You're tugged back, in between two sets of the beds, struggling in the grasp until the person who grabbed you stops. Their hands let go of you and you quickly spin, ready to defend yourself if need be, until your eyes catch sight of a familiar shade of purple.

"Thanos," you huff, shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Hey, baby," he grins, lips spread wide.

"What the hell," you hiss, shoving at him. "What is your problem?"

He has the audacity to shrug. "This is the only way I could get you alone to talk." For some reason, he takes that opportunity to brush back a strand of wild hair from your mild kidnapping he'd done, tucking it behind your ears with an odd gentleness.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you ignore the flutter of your heart. "And?" You question, shaking your head. "Still doesn't give you the right to grab me like that."

"I wanted to know your name," he grins, winking at you.

Your lips part. "You wanted to know my name?"

He nods.

"What exactly is the point of all of this?" You huff, shaking your head in frustration. "This is the third time you've bothered me. I thought I made the way I felt clear at the beginning."

"You did," he agrees, "I'm choosing to ignore it."

You blink, stunned. The actual audacity of this man.

"You're ignoring my rejection?"

"Yup," he nods, popping the 'p'.

"You're insufferable," you shake your head. "I don't want anything to do with someone who would willingly choose to stay in these horrible games. Not to mention, have fun playing them."

Thanos laughs, "I'm here for the same reason as you, baby. I need the money," he shrugs, holding his hands by his side as if in innocence as he pronounces 'money' in english. "Nothing wrong with trying to make the most of it. That includes learning your name."

"You're sick," you scoff, "I saw you push those two in the first game! You're the reason they're dead."

"As if they wouldn't have died on their own," Thanos rolls his eyes. "Besides, I'd never do that to you. I told you, didn't I? I'll keep you safe."

"You think that makes it okay?"

"Of course."

Shaking your head, you push away from him, turning your back to him. "Just leave me alone, Thanos. I want nothing to do with someone like you."

You walk away without looking back, unaware of the gaze that follows you.

-

"Hey, Senorita!"

Pausing in your conversation with Young-il and Gi-hun, you freeze, slowly turning your head over your shoulder to meet Thanos' gaze.

He's stood with his friends, Player 124 glaring at you from behind him, with a wide grin and those same wild eyes that made it clear he wasn't sober. You feel your shoulders tense, all too aware of your groups eyes watching the interaction between the two of you.

"If you need a group to join, I'll always be here!" He calls, pointing his finger right at you as he winks.

Swallowing thickly, you turn, choosing to ignore him.

All the boys look at you, waiting for you to say something. You do, just not about Thanos, eager to move on from Thanos' embarrassing and loud flirt.

"If they call about five, we just need to find people...-"

-

You'd gotten separated from Dae-ho.

Somewhere in the midst of running to a room, you'd been knocked to the ground by someone. They'd shoved past you without a single thought to you, and then the crowd of those desparate and panicked had separated you from your friend further.

Now, with tears in your eyes and your heart racing, you're frantically trying to find him or at least one of your friends, all whilst too aware of the time ticking away by the second.

It occurs to you that this might be it. That fall had been hard and your ankle was screaming something terrible right now. Even if you did find Dae-ho, you're not sure you could make it to him or a room in time.

The tears fall then, the seconds feel like agony and far too quick at the same time as you shake with the reality of your situation.

At least, what would've been your situation.

In the next second, a body crashes into you again, except instead of knocking you to the ground, you feel your feet lifted off the ground. A yelp leaves your lips in response, arms pulling you in a chest, confused, before you realize you're being hurdled right into a room.

The person who'd grabbed you was quick and suddenly, you're on your feet, in a room, with Thanos.

He shuts the door behind him and it locks instantly after.

He's panting, chest rising and falling as he turns to look at you, and you're just staring back at him with tears streaming down your cheeks and in disbelief. The echoes of gun shots that follow barely register in your mind as you meet his gaze.

"You saved me..." You breathe, stunned, voice a mere breathless whisper.

"I told you," he pants, offering a winded grin. "I'll keep you safe. I meant it."

The realization that it had in fact been Thanos that saved you is hard to believe and yet, you're faced with the true as he turns back to glance out the small window of the door.

"In the nick of time too," he laughs, somehow still overjoyed and finding humour in this situation. "I thought you and me were both dead there for a second."

Swallowing thickly, you hug yourself, still shaking and trembling from the situation as you shuffle on the spot. The action immediately pulls a cry from your lips as you stumble forward, tipping head first to the ground.

Thanos catches you before you fall.

"Wow," he chuckles, "you okay there, Senorita?"

The pet name that had annoyed you this entire time suddenly is annoying in a whole different way when you realize you wished it had been your name he'd said instead.

And that thought has you reeling even more.

"F-Fine," you wince, grabbing his arms that hold you. "I twisted my ankle when I got separated from...-oh no! Dae-ho! I didn't see if he he made it!"

The smile fades from Thanos face briefly at the mention of Dae-ho, still he helps you steady yourself and shakes his head. "Saw him get pulled into another room. He's fine. You're the one hurt."

Your face twists at that; "it's not his fault."

Thanos turns his face away, "never said it was."

It's clear he thinks it is.

You just huff, using his arms to help keep you upright. "I'm fine. It's just a twist."

Thanos eyes flicker to your ankle. "You can't walk."

Your lips part to say something, but just then the door clicks as it unlocks. You and Thanos spare one more glance at each other, before he's stepping forward to open the door, keeping an arm around your waist to help you walk out. You let him, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest at the action, limping out beside him.

Instantly, you hear your name being called.

You turn, seeing Dae-ho with Jung-bae, Gi-hun and Young-il in turn. There's a relieved smile on the formers lips and the rest look just as relieved.

"Thank God you're okay!"

You grin at them, forgetting who you're with for a second as you turn to them. "I'm glad you're okay too! When we got separated I wasn't sure..."

"I found Gi-hun," Dae-ho explains. "He hadn't been able to find a partner when Young-il, Jung-bae, you and me went off of our own. I tried to find you but..."

Nodding at them, you gesture to your partner. "Thanos found me," you explain, smiling nervously. "He... Well, he saved me. I wouldn't have survived otherwise."

The four of them look positively stunned but Thanos is beaming at the praise.

"Got my reward for it already too," Thanos smirks from beside you, pulling you closer. "Learned your name as well.., Reader."

He wiggles his brows at you and instantly, your cheeks warm. Leaning back from him, you shuffle back and to your surprise, he lets you slide out of his grip. Dae-ho is quick to help you, wrapping his arm around your waist like Thanos had whilst your group takes cautionary steps in front of you.

Just then, Player 124 comes bounding towards him.

"Thanos!"

With one final look your way, Thanos winks; "talk to you later, Reader." And with that, he walks off, joining Player 124's side as they laugh loudly in the otherwise gloom room.

All four turn to you, but you're too stunned to even begin explaining.

That, and you can't get rid of the fluttering race of your heart.

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━

You knew this was a possibility, that's why you took extra precautions, tied the strings so well that you were sure you'll have to cut them at the end of the day. But here you were, contemplating how on earth did this happen...

Mina had finally pulled the entire group into going on a vacation, choosing one of the Okinawa beaches, all of you packed up and came to the private penthouse. The vacation was long overdue, everyone too excited to chill out and relax.

It was all good, friends chilling out eating, drinking and finally relaxing after months of tedious hero work.

You were thoroughly enjoying yourself, even if you had to deal with him. Bakugou and you had a sort of love hate relationship, constantly fighting but still having each other's back. Friends constantly commenting about the thick sexual tension between you both, which left you yelling at them, they weren't wrong tho, not that you would admit outloud.

"Move, Sugar." Bakugou rasps out, hand holding a can of beer, he was shirtless, wet swim trunks sticking to him thighs, tan lines clearly visible on his legs, he was still glossy from playing in the water. Had you hated him any lesser, you would have licked the water off him, alas that thought is something to be revisited in darker hours of the night.

"Go around the towel, dipshit", You retort, going back to lathering yourself up with sunscreen, he snorts, before stepping on your fucking towel and going along.

"Asshole!" You yell at him, whole he continues to laugh at your face. You took in deep breaths, this fucker isn't going to ruin your vacation.

You got back to your sunscreen, before reapplying you lip gloss, you put too much effort into your appearance today. It was a deep maroon two piece, the bottoms had a fabric around it making it seem like a mini skirt, while the top was tied with strings.

As much as you loved the bikini, the top was making you nervous, you had taken every measure to prevent the strings from untying, even kept a spear towel, having heard too many stories of women losing their bikinis in the sea making you paranoid. It was probably also why you hadn't ventured into the ocean yet.

"Gurll- you lookin' cute there." Mina walked up to you, handing you a bright blue concoction, you grinned at her before downing the drink.

"Thanks, babes." You giggled, cheekily winking at her.

"What aren't you getting into waters tho? The weather is pleasant too." She queried, leaning in to steal your gloss. "I am gonna go, just applied sunscreen." You dusted your hands, as you stood up, Mina finished putting on the gloss, tossing the tube in your bag before both of you raced into the waters.

The boys, Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero welcomed you both in with splashes, playing around in waters lasted for a bit, after multiple rounds of chicken fight, Kirishima called Bakugou, asking him to join in.

"Ain't interested in yer shitty games." He yelled back, didn't bother looking at the group.

"Scared you'll lose," Sero provoked him, knowing that with right words he can get Bakugou to do anything.

"Fuck did ya' say?" He grits out, before standing up and charge towards your group, all of you scream before swimming in different directions, trying to not be his first victim.

Adrenaline pumped through your vessels, as you swam to furthest end of the shore, leaning against the big rocks keeping you hidden from the main shore. Breathing hard, you placed a hand on your chest, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Only to come to a horrible realisation that you weren't wearing your bikini top.

You were bare from waist above, frantically you tried looking for you top, hoping to find a maroon cloth lying somewhere, unfortunately you couldn't see anything that could vaguely resemble your bikini.

Panic set in when you realised that from this end of the shore, you can't even go to your spot on the beach, chance of grabbing your towel without being seen by your friends were too thin.

"Caught you!" Bakugou roars as he swims around the rocks, only to be stopped as you let out a yell, turning away from him.

"Stay there, Bakugou!" You barely even stay afloat, hairs shielding your back, while hands crossing over your chest.

"What? You suddenly don't want to play, when I catch you?" He rasps out, slightly curious as to why you wouldn't even turn to face him.

"It's not that." You let out a sigh, contemplating whether it's a good idea or not to ask Bakugou for help, he could potentially swin back and get you a towel.

"What is it then, Sugars?" He is much closer now, you can almost feel him behind you. "My top is lost." You whined out, praying he helps you.

"Sorry, what?!"

"My bikini top is lost, it untied while swimming." You whisper-yell at him, giving him a stink eye over your shoulder. He doesn't reply, instead it goes too quite, you slowly peek over your shoulder, only to lock eyes at Bakugou who is already looking at you.

Infact he was looking slightly below, as if checking whether or not you had the top. "Fucking pervert, I'll beat your ass!" Had your hands not been busy you would have whacked him.

"I am not a fucking pervert, I was thinking."

"Had you thought longer, you would have popped a boner."

"You want my help or not."

You went silent at that, of course you needed his help, especially if you didn't want to flash your friends.

"That's what I thought." He speaks at your silence, his voice a little too smug, "you got spear clothes here?" He queried, swimming back a little to look at your bag by the beach.

"I have a towel in there, it's big enough for me." You answer him over your shoulder, he wasn't looking at you anymore instead he was turned away mostly, head slightly tilted so he could hear you.

"Stay put, I'll get it," he almost start swimming before he turns towards you and says "Try not loosing the bottoms, in the meantime." And off he goes.

You knew just from that comment, he isn't going to let you live it down, you are sure he'll probably end up changing your name to some stupid shit constantly reminding you of today, but at least he is helping.

Everybody had already gone inside, letting Bakugou get you, when he reached where your towel had been laid out, he looked for your bag, not wanting to snoop too much, he got to work, quickly looking into the back to realise that there wasn't any towels in it. For a moment he wondered whether he should gather up your sand towel but decided against it.

He quickly jogged over to his spot at the beach, and grabbed the t-shirt he was wearing earlier, getting back into the ocean, he swam towards the rocks where you were hidden.

"Oi! There wasn't any towels, got you a t-shirt tho." He stretches an arm towards you, wet t-shirt in his fist.

"I had one, tho." You look at him in confusion, submerged neck deep into the ocean, hands crossed tightly. You were facing him slightly, eyes looking that clothe, you unwrapped one arm, from around yourself and reached for it, Bakugou averted his gaze, further stretching out his hand so you could reach it.

He moved a little closer, eyes still looking away, arms spread to make sure nobody can see you, even if it a private area of the beach.

You put the shirt on, feeling a little less exposed, turning around to fully face Bakugou, "Thank you, I suppose." You sheepishly scratch the back of your head, assuming the interaction is over and you'll both head back in.

"First of all☝🏻'you suppose?' and secondly you owe me more than a thank you."

He spits out, crossing his arms, and jutting out his hips. You eyes immediately drifted to his tits pecs that had become extenuated, before immediately locking eyes with his.

"Fucking pervert," He mimicked your earlier words.

"I am not! What do you want, Bakugou?" You exasperated, sighing dramatically, crossing your arms as well.

He moved towards you, arms unfolding to sway by his side, "Be nice, Sugar."

You scoff, eyes squinting at him suspiciously, more than aware of how close he was to you. He leans in clear, backing you against the rocks, leaning towards one side, leaving ample space for you to move away from him if you wanted.

He was close enough you could feel his minty breath onto your face, he locked eyes with you before leaning in, instinctively you closed your eyes, head tilting as your hands came to rest on his chest.

The kiss was taking a bit too long, peeking with one eye, you realised Baking was staring at you with s grin on his face.

"You asshole!!" You yelled at him, pushing at his chest, trying to move away from him, he was cackling, hands still grasping at your wrists, not letting you move away from him.

"Sorry, sorry." He wheezed out, pulling you towards him,"Oi, I am sorry, listen Sugars."

You didn't care tho, too tired to be dealing with his shenanigans, he was determined tho, pulled at your wrists, turning to glare at him, you were surprised by feeling of his lips against yours.

You stood there limp, Bakugou taking the lead for you, one arm around your waist other tilting your head to the side, deepening the kiss. You slowly brought you hands around his neck, fingers coming to run through his blonde hairs.

You pull away breaths heavy, he continues kissing down your jaw, leaving behind love bites for you to later press into.

He comes back up, pressing his forehead against yours, "So, how 'bout I take you out, Sugars?"

━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━

[midnite-c6]

Watching the daily dose of sunshine makes me think of a au, where nam-gyu goes to rehab and his main doctor is timid!reader, like he’s always teasing you for being so shy and everything!!

I LOVE YOU. SO SO MUCH. sorry guys i gotta confess, i know doctor x patient is weird esp if its IN a mental hospital, but if i was kim seowan's doctor in ddos i would've FOLDED so fast (sorry).

patient!nam-gyu x doctor!reader <3 warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon, manipulation (please read at your own risk!!)(kind of a ddos au!!)

*⁠.⁠✧ : he SCARED you so much during the games, how he was killing people left and right (esp during lights out), how he was practically one of the strongest people there. he made you feel incredibly small, he'd constantly mock you, constantly humiliate and embarrass you because you were just. so. quiet! luckily for you, and for him i guess, player 456 successfully stopped the games half-way thru leaving some of the players to stay alive.

for some reason, to everyone's surprise, he'd try to change for the better. as soon as he got that 400 million something won distributed among all the other players, he'd go to some nice rehab center, he was traumatized, definitely. he'd wait patiently for his doctor to prescribe him some shit since he was definitely on the brink of overdosing himself during the games, but when he looks up to see your face, he flinches, and every self-development in his body crumbles as he grinned widely.

"you?" you gasp, your heart dropped from seeing him again. it was like you were the one who needed therapy right this moment. "what are you d- ahem, good afternoon, sir." you'd carefully sit down on the other side of the desk. "it's really a small world." he plops his arms on the table, resting his head in his arm as he gives you the snarkiest smile. "so? you're a doctor..? you sighed, trying to ignore him, ".. it says here in your file that-" "shhhh." he shushed, placing his finger atop your lips. you are now thankful for the desk between the two of you since he's already uncomfortably close to you now. "miss, are you capable of making me feel better?" he'd ask in a voice and expression you'd truly feel bad for, if it just was anybody else doing it. "..you barely did anything during the games, how could you save me?" he tilts his head. you'd only do what you were most familiar of doing, avoiding his gaze and looking down, you weren't like this with any other patients who'd come to you, but nam-gyu truly traumatized your very being.

"tsk." he'd grab your chin to look up at him. "look me in the eye, doctors should be social. right, miss?" your heart would beat faster, his tone sounding just like the ones he'd use during your first encounter. he'd give you that same look of terror, as if trying to make you fear him, which infact works, and you'd sit there staring at him with a big frown! he only laughs after a couple of seconds, "jeez, looks like you need a doctor for your own." his laugh had broken you from that distracted trance, you were a doctor for christ's sake!! "sir, you've confessed into taking alot of substances during the past month, leading to a potential overdose, i'd advise you to stay here to sober up." you say straightforwardly before he could respond anything else. he'd tuck his long black hair in behind his ears and hum, "that was so fucking cute. you being professional and all that.."

---

he did stay, as it was advised by the one and only you, you'd given him check-ups from time to time and you'd see him with the other patients, but one particular day, he'd occasionally crashout, making you keep an eye on him more frequently. he'd call for you from his bed..and as to not lose your job, you'd come in an instant. seeing him laid down, in his hospital gown,. "miss. c'mere.. please." he whined, a 180 of his own character. "yes? sir, how are you feeling..?" he'd reach out to cup your face, looking into your eyes. "i just can't seem to forget... i've watched so many deaths, right infront of my eyes.. " you nod, listening intently, for a brief second you'd feel your utmost sympathy towards him. "and i was gonna get something like ketamine to forget about it again." - he'd cut you off before you could scold him: "..but, i know i'm here to become sober, so.. i wanna know.. what else are you good for, miss?" like a muscle memory, you know what to answer, "obviously-" but he'd cut you off AGAIN. "..and i don't want those stupid medicine shit." he'd pull you in closer to him, where you could feel his breath tickling your face. "c'mon, you were there too, don't you want to forget, aswell ..?" he'd place a soft peck on your lips, letting it linger before lightly biting your lower lip. why didn't you pull away? that's really the big question. why didn't you? you wanted to.. but.. you know very well about his crashouts.. or how he'd act out.. but in these moments you'd find out you're the worst doctor ever.

nsfw below!!-> (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

he'd use up all his remaining strength to pull you ontop of him, letting out a low groan of relief. he'd now keep a tight grip on your hips, knowing that you'd probably gain some consciousness right about now.. but you don't.. you're stupid. you're a fool to his tactics. "oh wow..." his hands would slowly explore your body, with light feather touches. and you'd only stare at him in shock, wondering why you've let him break that patient and doctor relationship dynamic, "fuck. you're even cuter like this." he'd press your body against his, nothing was covering him underneath that hospital gown, so you could already very much feel his everything. to his surprise, he'd see your face contort from the pleasure, whatever's happening right now is just as fucked up as him. "hmm, you like that?" he'd moan out loud, "it's working on me," he'd tore apart your silly pencil skirt, why were you wearing that as a doctor, anyway? his thumb pressing down on your clothed clit. he'd push your panties to the side, making your juices drip on his hospital gown. "let me feel you for real, miss."

it didn't take long, he was so whiny about it too! you could see him biting his lower lip as you fully take in his dick. "miss.. god, i need you." you swear you were gaining control over him, hearing him whimper so submissively, but he knows that wasn't the case, his little whines were so deceiving. you're grinding on your patient's dick right now, but every request of a patient must be returned! and this was his request.. "haah. such a good girl." he'd hold you down against him, "you'd do anything to save your patients won't you? what a hero." feeling your cunt throb for that was crazy, he thought you were crazy.

both of your pleasure-filled moans were echoing inside the room, you'd thank god not one of his nurses would come in here. at such an unfortunate time. his breathy moans were driving you crazy! "fuck.!" he'd finally get to coat your insides with his nut, how he'd make you roll your hips faster to chase out his high, you were much more sensitive than him anyway. "i think.. you've cured me.." he looks right into your eyes so calmly, not matching your exhausted moans. "bet whoever's watching those cctv cameras is jerking it right now." he snickers, making you look up at the camera, oh shit. you'd forgotten some patients need to be watched 24/7. "your moans were so cute, afterall, miss."

guys i NEED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM URHGNS one of my fav imagines everrr i love jaewon sm i love SEOWAN sm and ik he was depressed in that kdrama but i genuinely would let him do anything to me bye. . . 😭 hes so whiny here. i might post part 3 of that one thanos fic, nam-gyu included !! (spoils). someone request myunggi guys!!🥺

[ippipo]

husband!rafayel x reader, reader is lovestruck loser in this

rafayel's eyes contain the entire galaxy in them. you would spend your day cuddling with him while staring into his eyes when he wasn't paying attention.

one day, you just couldn't help how beautiful they looked. the sunrays from the window hit his face just right, and his beautiful orbs were highlighted. he was painting something, and you were absolutely mesmerized by his divinity. is he a god cause dayum.

the way his silhouette was carefully picked out, his skin was so flawless, his body, and his eyes, the heavens took their sweet time making him. your legs were wobbly just by looking at him. your sweet boy.

you gazed for a solid minute into his eyes without blinking until a teardrop made its way out, startling you. your eyes were dry, but you didn't care. he was truly a sight to behold. he moves slightly to fix his hair, and you let out a moan. you didn't know you had that in you. he freezes at the sound.

"is my wife horny just by looking at me? i mean, how could you resist all this?" he teases you. the word 'wife' came out so sweet from that beautiful mouth of his. "you're such a loser," he playfully states, a cheeky grin etched onto his face.

you couldn't reply. you were awestruck at how gorgeous he looked. my husband. you thought to yourself. the concept making you feel giddy inside. your entire body was filled with so much pleasure at the mere sight of him. "rafayel...." you let out. it unexpectedly sounded like a whine, you just wanted to call out his name, satisfied with the way it rolled out on your tongue.

his ears and cheeks turned red the way you uttered his name. "what is it, wifey?" he asks you. you still weren't responding. a dumb look on your face resembling a goldfish made him snort. you were so adorable to him. "i-" you begin, but end it with a sigh.

he placed the paintbrush in his hand down and waltzed towards the sofa, kneeling before you on the ground. your breath hitches at how he became even more gorgeous as he came closer. he caresses your skin, and it just felt so good that you moaned again.

your heart was in a frenzy. unable to handle it anymore while he was moving even closer to kiss you, you pushed him away. your entire body was reacting to his touch, a warm and fuzzy feeling overwhelming you.

he feigns a look of hurt, before pushing himself up and laying on you. the position was awkward but you were seeing stars. his entire weight was on you but it was comfortable. he flips you and now you were laying on him.

you sharply inhale, remembering how to breathe again. "rafayel," you whine out, wanting to repeat his name over and over again like a chant. he was a god and you were his devotee. he was a temple and you were his worshipper. he was the sole reason everything made sense and no sense at all at the same time. you were obsessed.

your fingertips graze over his lips, trying to make out if he was real or not. unbelievable. "did you eat something funny?" he questions, a concerned expression on his face. but you weren't responding again. sure, you did have some weird tasting dessert in the morning, but that wasn't a part of anyone's concern. he was just so addicting.

he decides to kiss you, and you were going crazy. you let out moans in between the kisses, unable to hold your admiration inside. he didn't stop until you were out of breath, lips swollen from the intensity and roughness, and a dishelved look on your face. you pull him into another kiss, lips molding against each other so perfectly.

the warm feeling erupting inside you again, bringing you pleasure beyond your senses. the place down there throbbing with desire, so much so that it was painful.

now it was his turn to be out of breath. you were too, but he was so affected. "my sweet baby," you whisper affectionately while caressing his cheek with your thumb. the love in your eyes was overwhelming to him. no painting he could ever make could resemble that.

"were you in a trance or something?" he asks, but he goes quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment. "you just look so so beautiful, i couldn't help it," you flash him a toothy grin.

you sloppily smooch his forehead and connect yours with his. "i would kill for you," you state, a chill running down his spine and straight to his cock.

"baby, you're killing me already with that look," he buries his head into the nape of your neck. you laugh at the ticklish feeling and press a kiss to his temple. your sweet boy.

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 07

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 006. 007. 008.

SEVEN, finally collision.

YOU WERE THE FIRST TO WAKE,

the morning light creeping softly through the blinds, filling the room with a pale glow. you moved quietly through the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and starting the familiar task of making breakfast. pancakes; comforting and simple, with chopped fruit on the side. nothing special, but it felt like a small way to regain some control after the chaos of the night before.

rafe wandered into the kitchen a little later, his footsteps slow and unsteady from sleep. his bare chest caught her eye before he even spoke, he was shirtless, his messy hair falling in his eyes as he rubbed at them, half-awake. he paused in the doorway for a moment when he saw you, standing at the stove in your small pyjama shorts and a simple t-shirt. your hair was still in two messy braids, the strands falling out of place as you flipped pancakes. rafe stood there for a beat, caught off guard by how you looked so... familiar. something about the way you moved, the way the morning light made you seem like you belonged here, it made him linger just a second too long. it took him a moment to snap out of it, his gaze pulling away awkwardly as he made his way to the stools at the counter.

"hey," he muttered, voice still thick with sleep, his words muffled in the quiet of the room.

"hey," you responded shortly, your voice distant. you didn't look up from what you were doing, not yet. it was too soon for that.

rafe shifted on the stool, clearing his throat. "i'm sorry... for yelling at you last night." his voice was low, hesitant.

you paused, your hand hovering above the pancake mix in the pan. you didn't meet his eyes, staring at the bubbles in the batter as it cooked. it wasn't that you didn't want to forgive him; it was just that you weren't ready to act like everything was fine. not yet. "it's fine. i'm sorry too," you said, your words clipped, tone hard to read.

you both lapsed into silence, the weight of what had passed between you hanging in the air. the sound of pancakes sizzling was the only thing breaking the quiet.

finally, rafe spoke again, quieter this time, his gaze unfocused as he thought back. "you used to always wear your hair in braids... when we were all kids. i remember. you'd always wear it like that when we played together... before everything."

the mention of your childhood hit you unexpectedly. your heart gave a little lurch, a memory you hadn't thought about in years flashing across your mind. you felt a flicker of something- nostalgia, maybe. something soft. "yeah... i guess i did," you replied, the corners of your mouth lifting into a small, reluctant smile. "i wear it in two braids every night now... you just wouldn't know." you turned your head slightly to glance at him, catching his eye for a brief second. it wasn't the first time your gazes had met, but something felt different about this moment. almost like you'd let him in just a little too much.

rafe blinked, a little stunned by your words, the air between you suddenly feeling thicker. but he didn't respond right away. he just watched you for a moment longer before turning his gaze down, trying to ignore the shift that was happening in the space between you.

you went back to flipping pancakes, focusing on the task at hand. the soft sizzle of the batter hitting the pan filled the quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts. neither one of you willing to name what was starting to grow between you.

you served up the food quietly, your movements automatic as you try to ignore the tension in the room. carter comes downstairs, his usual upbeat energy filling the space as he grins at the waffles. he goes to sit next to rafe at the counter, the air thick with the slight unease you feel about the two of you being in the same room.

"these look amazing," carter says, his voice light and full of the usual cheerfulness. he digs in, talking about nothing in particular; workouts, some random stuff he's planning to do later. but you can barely focus on his words. you're too aware of the way rafe keeps sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. it's subtle, but you catch him every time, his gaze flicking to you, then away, like he can't quite help it.

it's a weird feeling, knowing that he's watching you, and you don't know how to respond to it. he's not being outright rude or distant anymore, not like before, but there's still something heavy between you that you can't shake. you shift uncomfortably in your seat, staring at your plate as you pick at the food. when you're finished, you fiddle with your fork, feeling awkward, the silence around you amplifying everything you feel. after a long moment, you glance over at rafe. he's looking at you with a little grin, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

you look away quickly, your face flushing, and you shift your attention back to your plate, pretending you didn't notice. carter's still talking, oblivious, when he finally wraps up his story. he talks about something about hitting the home gym, and rafe grins in agreement, but all you can think about is how he's still staring at you.

"you should really try the new protein powder," you say, breaking the silence as casually as you can. your words come out more nervous than you meant them to. "i bought some the other day. it's in the cupboard."

carter nods, grateful, and thanks you before getting up to go get changed. rafe shrugs next to you, pushing his empty plate aside and leaning back in his seat.

"i'll just wear what i've got on now," he says, looking down at his gym shorts. 

there's an odd calmness to the way he says it, almost like he's resigned to the idea of not trying too hard anymore. you can't quite put your finger on it, but it doesn't feel like he's avoiding you anymore, either. you watch him as he stretches, and for a moment, the space between you doesn't feel so full of silence. it's strange. almost... normal. but not quite.

you wonder if it's always going to feel like this; two steps forward, one step back, this weird limbo between the two of you. 

carter came back downstairs, now in a top and athletic shorts. rafe, not to be outdone, disappeared for a minute and returned wearing a gym shirt that clung to him slightly, his shoes untied. they bumped shoulders as they walked through the house, joking about who could lift more, their voices echoing like they were kids again.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at their flexing and fake bravado. boys. you muttered something about how obnoxious they were as they disappeared into the home gym downstairs, but your voice lacked bite. your attention was elsewhere, still caught on the way rafe had been looking at you earlier. it was unsettling, confusing. too much. you pushed the thought away and grabbed your book from the side table, deciding a quiet morning by the pool would be the perfect distraction.

the sun was warm, and the air smelled faintly of salt and chlorine as you sank into one of the loungers, the book resting on your lap. the pages pulled you in, the words weaving a world far removed from your own, though not completely. every so often, your mind drifted back to the house, to the way rafe's gaze had lingered on you, to the grin he hadn't tried to hide. it unsettled you in a way you didn't want to admit.

you were so lost in thought you didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late. a sudden splash broke through the stillness, sending a spray of cold water over your legs and the edge of your book. you flinched, your voice rising in surprise as rafe surfaced, his grin wide and unrepentant. water dripped from his hair, running down his face and shoulders, and he looked at you like he'd just pulled off the greatest prank of his life.

"what the hell, rafe?" you said, your voice sharp but not entirely serious.

"you looked like you need a swim," he said, still grinning as he floated lazily in the pool, his arms resting on the edge.

you shook your head, muttering something under your breath about him being insufferable, and turned back to your book, only for him to pull himself out of the water in one swift motion. his wet footprints glistened on the pavement as he walked over to you, his smile softening into something teasing.

"you're too uptight," he said, standing over you now. before you could protest, he snatched the book from your hands and tossed it onto the nearby table.

"rafe-" you started, but you didn't get the chance to finish.

in one smooth motion, he scooped you up into his arms. you squirmed, laughter bubbling out of you despite yourself, your protests half-hearted as you tried to free yourself.

"don't you dare," you managed, but it was too late.

he jumped back into the pool, pulling her down with him. the water was cold, shocking her senses as they went under together. when they resurfaced, you wiped your face, sputtering and laughing despite yourself.

"you're the worst," you said, splashing him lightly.

"maybe," he said, chuckling as he wiped the water from his face.

for a moment, the air between them shifted, the laughter fading into something quieter. his grin faltered, and his expression turned serious. you noticed the way his eyes softened, the way his voice lowered slightly when he spoke again.

"about yesterday..." he began, his words slow and deliberate. "i shouldn't have yelled at you like that. i'm... sorry."

you hesitated, feeling the weight of the words hanging between them. you didn't want to dig into it, didn't want to risk dragging them back into the mess they'd barely stepped out of. so you nodded quickly, your voice light.

"it's fine. seriously," you said, brushing it off.

but the way he looked at you told you he didn't entirely believe you. the moment stretched, quiet but not uncomfortable, until rafe splashed you again with a small, mischievous grin, breaking the tension like it had never existed.

carter wandered out to the pool his eyes narrowing just slightly at the sight of you and rafe laughing together in the water. his gaze lingered on rafe for a moment, something sharp and unspoken flickering there. but he didn't say anything. instead, he plastered on an easy smile and asked, "what's going on here?"

feeling your face grow a little too warm, you climbed out of the pool in a rush. the water streamed down your legs, cool against your flushed skin, and you muttered something about needing another shower. you grabbed rafe's towel from the chair without so much as a glance in his direction, ignoring his small protest, and scooped up your book from the table. you didn't dare look back as you walked toward the house, but you could feel it, rafe's gaze heavy on you, tracing every step you took once again. by the time you reached your room, you were practically out of breath, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn't quite name.

inside, you shut the door firmly behind you, then sank down onto the floor, your back pressing against the wood. your thoughts were like waves crashing against each other, chaotic and relentless. you couldn't make sense of it. rafe was impossible. one moment he was cold and biting, the next he was teasing and warm, and now... now he was looking at you like you were something he couldn't quite figure out. it made your chest feel tight, like you couldn't catch her breath.

you groaned softly, burying your face in your hands, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away. it was infuriating. he was infuriating. shaking your head, you forced yourself to your feet and went to the bathroom, hoping a shower might wash away the tension knotting in your chest.

later that evening, you were stretched out on your bed, your damp hair sticking to your neck as you tried to focus on your book. but the words swam before your eyes, refusing to settle into anything coherent. your phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking your focus, and you grabbed it, seeing cora's name lighting up the screen.

"hey," you said, trying to sound normal.

"why aren't you here yet?" cora asked, a little teasing but mostly confused. "carter and rafe have been here for a while. i thought you'd come with them."

you frowned, sitting up straighter. "wait, what? they're at topper's?"

"yeah, they didn't tell you?" cora sounded genuinely surprised.

"of course not," you muttered, annoyance bubbling up. "i'll come by."

"you better," cora said with a laugh before hanging up.

you tossed your book onto the bed with more force than necessary, the irritation twisting inside you like a spring. you braided your hair quickly, tugging on denim shorts and a tank top before slipping on your shoes. topper's house wasn't far, but the walk felt longer than usual, the cool night air doing little to calm your swirling thoughts.

when you knocked on the door, your fingers automatically went to your braids, fiddling with the ends. topper answered with his usual wide grin, stepping aside to let you in.

"hey! didn't think you'd make it," he said cheerfully.

you gave him a small smile, mumbling something about being late, and followed the noise of voices and laughter to the back porch. the firelight danced across familiar faces, and cora immediately jumped up, wrapping you in a quick hug before pulling you over to sit.

your gaze flicked briefly to carter and rafe. carter looked pleasantly surprised, his grin easy and warm. but rafe... rafe's jaw tightened the second he saw you, his brows drawing together for just a moment before he looked away. the shift was subtle but enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably.

the first hour passed awkwardly, the tension between you and rafe like an invisible thread pulling tight every time you crossed paths. but as the night wore on and the drinks flowed, the atmosphere loosened. topper handed you another beer, your fourth, and you took it without thinking.

"don't you think you've had enough?" rafe's voice cut through suddenly, sharp but low enough that it could go unheard by others.

your head snapped up, your brow furrowing. "excuse me?"

he didn't back down, his gaze steady. "you don't need another one."

you bristled at his tone, the heat rising in your chest. "since when do you get to decide what i need?"

"since you're always in my business," he shot back, his voice edged with frustration. "maybe it's my turn."

your laugh was short and bitter. "oh, that's rich coming from you."

the argument escalated quickly, words snapping like sparks in the air. carter tried to interrupt, his voice cutting through with forced cheerfulness, but you were already on your feet, muttering under your breath as you walked inside. the house was cooler, quieter, but the tension followed you, clinging to you like static.

you barely made it a few steps down the hallway before you heard him behind her. "hey, wait."

you spun around, your frustration boiling over. "what is your problem, rafe? why can't you just leave me alone?"

"because i don't want to see you get hurt!" he snapped, stepping closer. his voice was sharp, but there was something raw beneath it, something that made your breath catch.

"what are you even talking about?" you demanded, your voice trembling.

"i'm talking about what happened," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "what happened to you. with that guy."

your chest tightened, your heart pounding in your ears. "how do you even know about that?"

his jaw clenched, and he looked away for a moment before answering. "carter told me. he was worried, and he thought—"

"he had no right," you interrupted, your voice breaking. the humiliation and anger twisted together, making your throat ache. you turned away, heading for the door.

"no, wait—"

"no," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "just... don't."

you stepped outside into the night, the cool air hitting your face as you started down the road. your steps were quick and uneven, your emotions a storm you couldn't control. but then his hand was on your shoulder, turning you around.

"please." rafe said, his voice softer now, almost desperate. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to- i just..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "i care about you, okay? more than i should."

your breath hitched, your mind struggling to catch up. "why?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he hesitated, his eyes flickering with something raw and unguarded. "because... god. because i have feelings for you.," he said, his voice low and unsteady. "i've had them for a long time. and that's why-" he paused, his jaw tightening, like the words were fighting to stay buried. "that's why i've been so annoyed. so angry with you. because you're... you're too perfect for me. you always have been. and i knew it. i know it. and i'm probably fucking this up even worse by telling you."

his confession hung in the air between you, heavy and electric. your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as the weight of his words settled over you. you searched his face, the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes refused to leave yours, like he was bracing for the impact of your rejection. and in that moment, you realised you felt it too. all of it. the anger, the confusion, the longing; it had always been there, just waiting for you to see it.

"rafe..." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the truth you hadn't let yourself admit until now.

before he could say anything, you reached out, grabbing the collar of his shirt with both hands. you tugged him down, standing on your toes as your lips met his. it was sudden, a collision of emotion you couldn't hold back any longer. the world seemed to tilt, the stars above you spinning, the ground beneath you slipping away. all that existed was the warmth of his mouth on yours, the way his hands instinctively found your waist, steadying you.

when you finally broke apart, you were breathless, your chest rising and falling as you stared up at him. his expression was stunned, his lips slightly parted, and for the first time, you saw him completely; no walls, no anger, just the boy who had been hiding behind them all along. everything you'd never let yourself feel before now surged to the surface, and for the first time, it all made sense.

notes ; sorry i havent been active! things are hectic, im moving into a new house in two days with my roommates and so i've been busy but thank you for being patient !!

series taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @i2rapunzel @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @luvrcndy @teleishachrisy @importantbeardcupcake @vanessa-rafesgirl @ltristessedureratoujours @cutkoskysnix1 @kennedywxlsh @funnyalpca @eeveelizabethh @burnburritono @marleymarleymarleymarley @katiebby04 ( lachesism taglist ) in order to stay on this taglist you must interact with the posts !

[practicalgauntlet]

Alexithymia

(n.) Inability to describe emotions verbally

PART ONE

Synopsis- You and Spencer share music on the jet after a grueling case.

Category- Fluff

Notes- fluff, no smut, confessions without words, Mutual pining, tension, very little dialogue, short one-shot, canon typical violence, mentions of death and murder, takes place between season one and season six but nothing about the show is mentioned just an overall vibe for Spencer, the reader has Maladaptive Daydreaming Syndrome, softcore flirting, I don't believe in Dom!Spencer so don't expect it, a vague description of the music you listen to because I refuse to describe the reader in any way.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The case had been grueling. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, a mother had killed her children, or that's what the unsub wanted you to think. Hotch was the first to deduce that Sherl McCain was as much a victim as her three beautiful babies.

They were brutalized, beaten, and bloodied beyond recognition those children. It broke your heart to see them like that, their faces permanently screwed in terror as they reached out for their mother.

Throughout the week-long case, where you and the team chased lead after lead only to end up at a dead end, a pit of dread hung heavy at the bottom of your stomach. Your heart was breaking for that family, and the two others that died before you could catch him.

Even with the sick bastard forever behind bars, you couldn't shake the absolute anguish that had etched itself into your bones.

You and the team loaded into the jet, exhausted and ready to get back home. Morgan was fast asleep in his chair, Emily and J.J. sat at the back talking amongst themselves, and Hotch and Rossi were going over the case at the front.

You were thankful no one wanted to talk to you at that moment, desperate for some sort of escape, even if it was short-lived. So you dug through your bag for your MP3 player and headphones. With years of songs downloaded, all you had to do was hit shuffle and you already felt better.

The plane ride was supposed to be long, so you got comfortable, leaned your head back, and let your music take you to another place. A place where a mother and her children weren't murdered in cold blood because some psychotic fucker thought it was thrilling.

Not three minutes in, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn your head and see Spencer looking at you curiously. It took effort not to roll your eyes when your daydreams were interrupted, but Spencer's soft voice made it all worthwhile.

"What kind of music are you listening to?"

Before you answer him, you pause your music, giving him your full, undivided attention. You notice, that if it were someone else, you would have pretended to be asleep just so you wouldn't have to stop listening to your song. "Nothing you'd like, Boy Wonder."

He sat down next to you and then motioned to an earbud. "Let me be the judge of that."

You shrug, knowing that the music you were about to play was a far cry from the songs Spencer listens to. But you couldn't lie to yourself, the idea of sharing earbuds with him had butterflies flapping around in your stomach. So, instead of telling him no -which you find yourself unable to anyway- you offer him your left earbud and press play.

The song's thrumming beat continued, and you were right back in your daydream. You felt yourself drift away, your body and mind floating towards a world different from yours. Just as you were dozing off, lulled to relaxation and comfort within your own mind, you felt Spencer lean over. His breath was hot against your ear, and the ghost of his lips made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"I've always wondered what put you in a trance, you have good music taste."

You turn your head slightly, his face so close to yours, that you could reply without the music drowning out your voice. "I didn't take you for the type."

He simply hummed and turned his head away from yours, his eyes closing as the bridge of the song ended and the beat picked back up. Minutes pass by and you feel yourself drifting off again, your gaze locked on some minute detail of the seat in front of you but you never really register anything that crosses into your vision. Spencer's shoulder was suddenly pressed to yours, his thigh closer than before, warming you like you were placed in front of a crackling fire. Not just because he was a walking space heater, but because you feel your blood pressure spike, your cheeks and neck warming with a blush you knew was on full display.

You didn't know when he scooted closer, you only knew when he was so close you could time his breaths. Taking a sweeping look around the cabin you make sure none of the other members were looking at you with that knowing, mischievous smirk they always wore when they saw you and Spencer together. Maybe they knew of your blatant and undeniable crush on him. Deep down you hoped you weren't so obvious but in a room of profilers, no secret remained hidden.

Quietly, you hear Spencer humming along with the song, the timbre of his voice relaxing you back into that trance you so often put yourself into.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A bout of turbulence woke you up from a sleep you don't remember falling into. The lights in the cabin were off save for the small overhead light Hotch always kept on. That small glow allowed you to see that everyone was asleep.

It took you longer than you liked to admit that the comforting, heavy warmth clinging to your left side was not a figment of your imagination. Sometime during your sleep, you had curled yourself around Spencer's side, laying your head on his shoulder and entangling his arm with yours.

You stiffen with embarrassment, ready to swiftly untangle yourself from him with a groveling apology for taking away his sacred personal space. But when you look up at him, you notice that he too is asleep.

Selfishly, you took this time to admire him. His sharp jaw, the way his lips slightly parted with each exhale, the column of his throat. All the things you greedily gobbled up in short, quick glances were now on full display for your glutinous gaze. He was so pretty, carved straight from your dreams; mind, body, and soul.

You didn't dare reach up and tuck that stray strand of hair behind his ear, didn't dare move to trace his lips with the pad of your fingers. You refused to risk the possibility of waking him up and having to awkwardly explain why you were ogling him like a love-sick puppy.

Your efforts were in vain as the jet shuddered and rocked some more, startling Spencer away with a snort. He looked around, rubbing the bleariness out of his eyes with his free hand. Before he could look at you, you quickly close your eyes and pretend you were still asleep. Maybe if he thought you were asleep, he'd let you cling to him for just a while longer.

Instead of shoving you away or even waking you up, you heard his soft chuckle. It took so much effort to not open your eyes and search for the object of his amusement, but you remained strong, using your training to keep your face neutral. He didn't say anything for a long time and you thought he had fallen back asleep, but when his hand slipped across your cheek, you just about jolted upright and ruined everything.

He kept his palm there for a few seconds, just cradling your face where it rested on his shoulder. Spencer moved his thumb in small circles, tracing the curve of your cheek before moving lower to swipe across your lower lip.

Your heart was racing, beating erratically against your ribcage like it was demanding a way out. A few times you almost break the ruse, desperate to see what the hell his face looked like as he touched you so gently, but you had a feeling that if you opened your eyes now, he'd scramble away from you and hide. So you kept still, reveling in the fondness of which he touched you.

Spencer pulled your bottom lip down for a second and you felt a puff of air spread across your face. Softly, so quiet you almost couldn't hear it over the soft music now playing and the roar of the plane engine, you heard him groan. But before you could do anything with that information, his hand slipped into your hair and he pulled your earbud out.

Without the music, you could hear his movements more clearly. Rustling fabric, a zipper, and then more rustling fabric. Not to mention it felt like he was trying to wiggle away from you but keep you glued to him all at the same time. Then, with a gust of stale cabin air, you were tucked further into him and something warm was placed over your shoulders.

It hit you then when the unmistakable smell of Spencer enveloped you, that he had used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket. As he settled into the seat, you felt him lie his cheek atop your head and intertwine your fingers with his.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You were jostled awake again by a gentle shake of your shoulder. At first, you didn't know where you were, your sleep so deep and relaxing that you forgot everything you had witnessed both on the case and in the darkness of the plane's cabin.

"Hey, we're back at Quantico." Spencer's voice was low and gravely like he too had just been rudely awoken.

You were still wrapped up in him, still clinging to his arm and tucked under his chin. The reality of the situation hadn't hit yet, your brain was still addled with sleep as you nuzzled deeper into his warmth. "Hmm?"

"Come on, sleepy head, let's get you home."

You shoot up, now aware of your predicament and how embarrassing you must look. Refusing to meet his eye, you gently extract yourself from his side and stand up on wobbly legs. "Oh, my god. I'm so sorry Spence..."

Spencer stood too, stretching his arms high above his head, and chuckled. "It's no big deal, really. I-" He paused, straightening his shirt and ducking his head down to meet your downcast eyes. "I quite enjoyed it."

This had you looking up at him, the memory of the previous night flooding your mind and you felt yourself glow from how bright and hot your blush ran. "I, um..." You didn't know what to say, pinned by his intense gaze and bright smile.

Instead of saying anything else, he takes your bag off the floor, shoulders it, and grabs your hand. He leads you out of the plan, through the building, and to the street before hailing a cab. It wasn't until you were watching him stand there, a look of longing spreading across his face as his eyes trailed after the departing cab, that you realized you were still wearing his coat.

[sequinsmile-x]

Fortress

They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren't alone. 

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home.

AKA the one where Spencer needs a place to stay and ends up staying with the Hotchners.

-x-

Hi besties!

Today is...a rough day. And I'm holding space for all of you who are directly impacted by it. This is pure silly, fluffiness and I hope it makes you smile and provides a small distraction for you today.

This is very loosely based on a b-plot in a Bones episode - if you know, you know.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 4.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns and rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, allowing herself one last final moment where he is just her husband, and not also her boss, before the elevator makes it to the BAU’s floor.

“Tired?” He asks, turning his head to kiss her temple, and she grumbles, taking the opportunity to turn her head and rest her forehead against his suit jacket before she pulls back to look at him. 

“Exhausted,” she mutters, “And it’s your fault.”

She steps away from him as the elevator doors open, putting space between them as if no one knew they were married. She and Aaron had to fill out endless paperwork to continue working together after they declared their relationship, and they were careful. They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren’t alone. 

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home. How either one of them would wrap their arms around the other from behind when they were making dinner. How Aaron would curl up behind her in their bed, surrounding her with the warmth and love she couldn’t believe she’d once lived without. They were always touching each other, always within reach, and she loved it. Stored up all the bits of her husband that she could to keep close to her heart when she had to act as if he was just another member of the team. 

“Because it’s my fault we had to be here early because of my meeting?” He asks, looking around them to double check they are alone in the hallway, “Or because of the baby.” 

She shoots him a sharp glance, the blade of it dulled by the smile she can’t hide. She was only 7 weeks along. The news was still fresh, something that would pull a delighted smile out of her whenever she thought of it, her joy almost overwhelming every time it washed over her. 

“Both,” she quips, “And I can’t have coffee. That’s your fault too.” 

He holds the door open for her, smirking as he walks into the bullpen after her, “Sweetheart, you haven’t had coffee in years,” he says, but his smile drops when she throws him another glare and he clears his throat, “I mean, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?” 

“Nice save,” she replies, smiling as she dumps her bag on her desk and sits down, “And yes, please. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking it’s coffee.” 

He smiles and looks around the bullpen, checking once again to make sure they are alone, and he kisses her cheek. He places his briefcase next to her desk and squeezes her shoulder before he turns away, “One cup of tea coming right up.” 

“You’re the best husband ever,” she calls after him without looking back, blowing out a slow breath as she unlocks her computer, idly wondering how on earth she was going to make it through the day without napping. She’s about to open her emails, half a thought about a report she needed to finish for a recent case rolling around her head, when she hears two yells in quick succession from the kitchenette. She furrows her brow and jumps up, walking quickly towards the kitchen, “Aaron, what's…” she trails off as she sets her eyes on her husband standing with his hands on his hip, just a few feet away from the couch that Spencer was sitting on, a blanket over his lap and a pillow at the other end of the couch, “What’s going on here?” 

“That’s exactly what I was about to ask,” Aaron says, raising an eyebrow at Spencer expectantly. 

“My apartment building is being fumigated,” he replies, clearing his throat as he sits up a little straighter, his brain finally catching up with the fact his boss is standing in front of him, “I needed somewhere to stay.” 

“Wait, you’re sleeping here?” Emily asks, and Spencer nods, “Why?” 

He shrugs, as if the answer was obvious, “I had nowhere else to stay.” 

Emily’s about to ask why he didn’t stay in a hotel for a few days when Aaron replies instead, his hands still on his hips as he barely covers a sigh. 

“You can’t sleep in the office,” Aaron says, “How much longer is your building out of bounds?” 

“Until the weekend.” 

Aaron sighs again and turns to Emily, and she knows what he’s thinking, because she’s thinking the same thing. When she first joined the BAU, back when Aaron didn’t trust her and the team were strangers, she never could have imagined that they would become her family. That not only would she find the man she loves, the love of her life and the father of her children, but friends she’d do anything for. 

Even if it did mean blurring the already shaky lines between her home and her work. 

“You can stay with us,” Aaron says as he turns back to Spencer, “We have a spare room and it’s better than you sleeping here.” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Oh no, I couldn’t-”

“Spencer,” she says, cutting him off, “We’re not taking no for an answer. You can stay with us until your place is free to go home to.” 

He sighs and nods, “Okay. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she says, turning to look at Aaron, “Did you manage to make my tea?” 

He nods and reaches for the two mugs he’d somehow managed to not drop when Spencer sat up from the couch and almost gave him a heart attack, “Here you go, sweetheart.” 

She smiles her thanks at him and turns to head back to her desk. She’s just about sat down when Aaron joins her, smiling softly as he grabs his briefcase. 

“Are we going to talk about the scream that came out of you when he sat up?” 

He sighs, failing to hide a smile, “I didn’t scream.” 

“Sure, honey,” she replies, winking at him, “Whatever you say.” 

___

By lunchtime, everyone knows that Spencer is going to be staying with them for a few days. 

Emily eats lunch with Aaron in his office. It was something that had gone from being something she liked to do to something that felt like a necessity. The smell of everyone’s lunch all mixing into one made her stomach turn, nausea she had to fight against so she could eat the plainest of meals to make sure she kept something down. 

She groans as she lays back against the couch in his office, her eyes drifting shut as she chews on a plain cracker, “This baby better be cute.” 

Aaron chuckles and rests his hand on her thigh, “Of course, she’ll be cute. She’s half you.” 

She opens her eyes and looks at him, “She?” 

He shrugs, smiling at her with a twinkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for home, “Just a feeling.” 

She chuckles and rests her hand over his on her lap, “Do you want to find out? When we can?” 

“Haley and I did with Jack, but I think that’s your decision sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Since you’re the one who’ll be doing the literal heavy lifting.” 

She hums, “Good answer,” she smiles wryly, “I don’t know. Part of me wants to know as soon as I can. The other part of me…”

“Wants it to be a surprise?” 

She nods and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, trying and failing to catch a smile that feels nothing short of ridiculous, “Yeah. And I don’t usually like surprises. But this would be the best surprise ever.” 

“We have time to figure it all out,” he says and he winks at her, “And I’ll follow your lead. No matter what.” 

She squeezes his hand three times, a silent way of saying I love you that they’d started exchanging a long time ago, way back when no one knew about them and he’d grab her hand under the table on the jet. It was something that was as precious to her as the words themselves, something that was just for them. 

“I should get back to work,” she says, smiling as she lets go of his hand, “We can’t have anyone claiming you’re showing favouritism.” 

He laughs and stands up at the same time as her, allowing his hand to skip along her lower back as she steps past him, “Between you and me, you’re definitely my favourite. Prentiss.”  

She laughs and winks at him as she opens the door, “You’re my favourite too. Hotch.” 

She steps out onto the walkway, but the rest of the team is too engrossed in their conversation to notice her there, all hunched over a piece of paper on Derek’s desk - apart from Spencer who is sitting at his desk, looking irritated. 

“I’m saying a month.” Penelope says, pulling $20 out of her wallet, “Here you go handsome.” 

“So baby girl has a month,” Derek replies, taking the money from her, “I’ve said two weeks. Rossi?” 

“Three days,” he quips, looking over at Spencer, his smirk visible from the walkway, “No way he lasts longer than that.” 

“Three days,” Derek says, taking the money from Dave, “What about you JJ?” 

“Forever,” she replies, smiling when Spencer tries to intervene but she cuts him off, “I think they’ll adopt him as their own and he’ll live with them forever.” 

Derek frowns, “I don’t have forever. The longest I wrote down is two months.” 

JJ rolls her eyes and slams her money on the table, “Then give me two months.” 

Emily’s mouth falls open in outrage and clears her throat, smirking when they all freeze and look up at her. “Do I get a cut? Considering it’s my life you’re betting on?”

“They said we couldn’t take part because we could sway it in our favour,” Spencer says, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Emily scoffs and walks down the stairs, “Well that’s not fair.” 

“Sorry, Princess,” Derek says, counting up the money on his desk, the amount letting her know that it wasn’t just the team who’d entered the bet - but the entire office, “Don’t hate the players, hate the game.” 

___

Emily sighs as she leans back on the couch, letting her eyes drift shut as she gives herself a moment to relax, blowing out a slow breath as she rests her hand on her stomach. 

“You’re sucking the life out of me, baby,” she grumbles, keeping her voice low just in case Spencer or Jack walk past the living room. She knew she was just at the start, that she had so much longer to go, but she was trying to soak it all in. This was something she’d convinced herself she’d never get to have, something that just wasn’t meant to happen for her. There were moments when it still didn’t feel real. Moments that made her almost want to wish time away so she could feel her baby move and kick so she had something tangible to show that this was happening, that she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. She smiles and runs her thumb back and forth over the skin just below her belly button, “But you’re worth it.” 

She almost falls asleep, the sound of Aaron cooking just in the next room, and his low conversation with Spencer who insisted on helping, the white noise that starts to pull her under. 

“Mom?” 

She snaps awake at the sound of Jack’s voice, and she smiles at him, “Hey, sweet boy, are you okay?” 

He nods, his eyebrows furrowed together, “Are you okay? You were asleep.” 

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she sits up straight, patting the couch next to her to convince him to sit with her, “I’m okay, I promise. It was just a long day at work.” 

He sighs and sits next to her, his head resting on her shoulder as he snuggles into her side, “You left for work early today.” 

“Exactly,” she replies, kissing his temple, “But I’m fine,” she pulls back to look at him, “How was school?” 

“It was good. We’re learning French, but I told the teacher you know it better than she does.” 

Emily chuckles at that, internally wincing as she thinks of the next parent-teacher conference, and she runs her fingers through his hair, “Well, maybe I can help you with your homework. And maybe if you ask nicely, Uncle Spencer can help you with your homework while he’s here too.” 

Jack nods, “Is he staying forever?” 

She laughs again and thinks of the conversation she’d overheard her friends have, and she shakes her head, “No, honey, he’s not staying forever. Just until his apartment is safe to go back to,” she explains, and Jack sighs, the disappointment in it forcing her to hide a smile, “Why? Do you want him to stay?” 

He shrugs, “I dunno. It’s kind of like having a brother I guess.” 

She has to stifle a sigh, has to stop herself from almost saying, for the second time that day, that Spencer was only 11 years younger than her, but she’s overwhelmed by a different thought. Ever since she and Aaron had started trying, she’d been worried about how Jack would feel about becoming a big brother. She never wanted to make him feel like he wasn’t enough for her, never wanted him to think that her not being his biological mother was a factor in the decision to have another baby. 

“Is that something you’d want?” 

He shrugs again, “I guess. Or a sister. A sister would be better.” 

She kisses his temple and hides a smile against his hair, “Well, I’ll see what I can do. But Spencer can’t stay forever,” she says, leaning in as if she’s whispering a conspiracy, wanting to move the conversation on so she doesn’t accidentally let something slip, “He has the same birthday as me, and I don’t want to share the cake you and Daddy make me every year.” 

He laughs, and the sound tugs at her heart, fills the space around it until she feels like she can’t breathe whilst she’s overwhelmed by love for him. She thinks she might start crying, her famous hold on her emotions already loosening because of her pregnancy hormones, her grip slipping more and more each day in a way that made her worry about what things would be like further along. She’s saved when Aaron calls down the hallway, letting her and Jack know it’s dinner time, and Jack runs off ahead of her, excited and already telling Aaron he wants to pick what piece of the lasagne he’s going to eat. It gives her a few seconds to gather herself, her eyes closed as she blows out a slow breath before she stands up. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She looks at Aaron and smiles, “I’m okay,” she assures him, her smile only getting wider as he gives her the same concerned look Jack had earlier, “Just tired.”

He nods, “Think you can manage some lasagne?” He asks, and she must go green, the wave of nausea she feels at the mention of it almost knocking her off her feet, “I made some plain pasta for you if you want it, I told Reid you’re coming down with something and don’t want to eat anything too rich. Or I could do some toast?” 

She smiles and walks over, wrapping her arms around him so she can kiss him. He wraps his arms around her too, taking the time to pass his hand over her flat stomach. She stamps her lips against his before she pulls back, “You’re the best. The pasta will be fine.” 

She leans in to kiss him again but stops when she hears a throat clearing from behind them, and she presses her lips together as she sees Spencer standing just a few feet away, a plate of dinner in each hand, his eyes slightly wide as if he’d walked in on more than them just exchanging a simple kiss. Aaron steps away from her like he’s been burned, his eyes also wide, and she bites back a sigh, irritation she knows isn’t strictly fair aimed at him and Spencer for the disruption to her affection for her husband. 

“I’ll go get your food, Em,” Aaron says, smiling tightly at her, a flicker of an apology in it as if he’d only just realised how he’d jumped away from her, “Why don’t you go and sit in the dining room with Jack and Spencer?”

She hums and narrows her eyes at him, letting him know he’s in trouble later, but then she nods, wrapping her arm around Jack’s shoulders as he stands next to her. Unlike his father, he doesn’t hide away from her affection in Spencer’s presence, and she takes that as a win. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s eat.”

___

She collapses into bed, half asleep as she lies right in the middle because Sergio is taking up most of her side of the bed. She has her arms wrapped around Aaron’s pillow as he gets ready for bed in the bathroom, seeking out the scent of him that remains on it. 

She knew they’d done the right thing taking Spencer in, that they couldn’t in good conscience leave him to sleep in the office, but she hadn’t considered the potential consequences. Aaron had kept a respectable distance from her most of the evening. She was used to it at work, but not here - not in their home. She knew he was private, she was too, but she hated the awkwardness she’d felt when he simply placed his arm around her shoulders when they all settled down to watch a movie.  

Spencer had sat next to Jack and told him all the inaccuracies in Finding Nemo, something that the little boy had enjoyed greatly. Occasionally, Emily would notice Spencer studying them, watching them in moments when he thought they weren’t paying attention, taking the opportunity to learn more about them in their own environment. 

She grumbles when she hears the bathroom door open, and she buries her face in Aaron’s pillow as he sits on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath him. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, pushing her hair out of her face, “If you move over we can cuddle.”

She hums and moves just enough for him to slip into bed too, curling around him the moment she can, her head on his chest and her hand she sneaks it under his t-shirt, “Your kid hates me.” 

“Jack?” He asks, furrowing his brows, and she scoffs, lightly slapping his chest as she mutters her response against him.

“Not Jack. The one living inside of me.” 

He kisses the top of her head and rubs a circle on her back, “The baby doesn’t hate you, Em. It’s normal to feel like this.” 

“I know,” she grumbles, “Doesn’t make it any easier though,” she tightens her hold on him, gets impossibly closer as she all but tries to climb under his skin. It makes him frown, concern sparking in his gut as he reciprocates, forever keen to make sure she has exactly what she needs.  

“Are you okay?” He asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as he encourages her to look up at him.

She shrugs, her cheeks burning now she has to think of a way to say it outloud, “It’s stupid.” 

“You’ve never been stupid a moment in your life,” he says, running his knuckles down her cheek, chasing the smile she tries and fails to hide, “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She sighs and she nods, “I just…missed you tonight. That’s all.” 

His frown deepens, “I’ve been home all night.” 

She shakes her head and sighs again, this one rattling around as it passes from her chest to his, “Forget it. Like I said, it’s stupid-”

“Em,” he says, stroking her cheek again, “It’s not stupid. Just…tell me what you mean?” 

“I…I’m used to having to try to act like we aren’t together at work. I’m not used to having to do it here. And with Spencer here tonight it was just…different. That’s all. I missed us being us, I guess.” 

He pauses, tries to figure out how to respond for a moment, and then he pulls her against him again, holds her as close as he possibly can, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to pull away like that. I’ll try and do better, and maybe we can tell him to stay somewhere else?” 

She shakes her head, “We can’t do that. It would be like kicking a puppy or something,” she mumbles, “Plus it’s only for a few days. I can make do. As long as we still have this.” 

He smiles against the top of her head, “We’ll always have this.” 

She tilts her head up to look at him, “Even when I’m the most pregnant person to ever exist and there’s a whole baby between us?” 

“Even then,” he says, leaning down to kiss her, “I’ll just hold both of you.”

She kisses him again, “Good answer. Again. You’re two for two, Hotchner,” she yawns, the sound turning into a moan as she buries her face in his chest, “As soon as I don’t feel like I’ve never slept a day in my life I’ll repay you in sexual favours.” 

___

The next morning, she walks into the office with Aaron and Spencer, and she actively ignores the smirks on their friend’s faces as they approach. 

“Oh look, it’s the Hotchner family,” Derek says, leaning back in his chair with a grin all over his face that Emily wanted to slap away. 

“Shut up, Derek,” she grumbles, something that only seems to pull another laugh out of her friends. 

“Wow, someone hasn’t had caffeine yet today. Want some tea?” Penelope says, a spark of mischief in her eyes, and before Emily can respond Spencer cuts in

“Actually, she already had a mug of tea at home which has approximately 75mg of caffeine based on the type of tea, so because of the baby it isn’t recommended that she has any more this morning.” 

For a moment, it’s silent. Quiet in a way it rarely was, before all of them, her and Aaron included, react in the same way. 

“What?” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he realises he’s said something he shouldn’t have, and he swallows thickly, “Well, you didn’t eat dinner last night, and you haven’t eaten lunch with us for over a week. And Hotch kept touching your…” he trails off as he points at her stomach, “I don’t think either of you noticed.” 

“You…” she trails off, shaking her head as she looks at her husband, knowing there was no point in trying to lie now. She looks at the team, their excitement barely contained before she sighs and nods, “Yes. I’m pregnant,” she holds up her hand to cut off Penelope before she explodes and pulls her into a hug, “But I’m only 7 weeks along,” she throws Spencer a look, “We weren’t planning on telling anyone quite yet.” 

JJ smiles, “Congratulations, Em. We’re happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” she replies, looking at Aaron again, smiling at the soft look in his eyes, “We’re happy too.” 

“Congrats, princess,” Derek says, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing before he turns to Dave, “I think this means you won.” 

Aaron frowns, “Won what?” 

Dave sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, “We knew you were pregnant, we put a bet on when you were going to tell us.” 

“What?” Emily says again, crossing her arms over her chest, “How the hell did you know?” 

“You practically turned green at the mention of Derek’s breakfast sandwich the other day,” JJ replies, shrugging her shoulders, “And you’re glowing.” 

She scoffs, “I think that’s the morning sickness,” she smiles, “But thanks,” she steps back so she’s close to Aaron, wanting him close by even if she can’t wrap her arm around him, “But you guys have got to stop placing bets on what’s happening in our lives. First on how long Reid was going to stay with us and now this.” 

Aaron tenses next to her, his shoulders tight as he looks at her, his confusion close to endearing when their eyes meet, “Wait, what?” 

[marshmallowprotection]

“Hey, Saeran?” 

"Yes? What is it, my love?"

As you shut off the television and turned away from the news, there was a sense of anxiety and worry that wouldn't go away even as the monitor went dark. That undying intrusive thought that told you how horrible things would become in a matter of hours, if not days, reared its ugly head again. You didn't want to feel that way, nor did you want to let the sensation of despair take away the last shred of your sanity, but the more you sat with those fears, the more terror you felt.

Cradling your pillow close to your chest, you asked, "How did you find a reason to hope when everything else said otherwise?"

You couldn't help but feel curious about what he might say about it. Mint Eye gave him every reason to despair, to give up on himself, and yet, he didn't. Despite everything they threw at him, he continued the arduous journey of living in a false paradise that intended to get rid of him one day when most people in his shoes would've surrendered to the agony to escape their suffering.

On the surface, you understood the concept of Saeran's feelings. The way he must've felt when he knew he had to adapt to survive a living hell, and how heavy the burden it became when it shattered his heart to ribbons. He... didn't have another choice when Rika took him from the cathedral she found him in. If he didn't submit to her whims, he'd never see the sunrise or sunset again.

He survived purely on dumb luck, and because he fought for so long to make her think he believed her lies when he couldn't tell left from right. You knew when people were faced with no other choice but to do whatever they could to survive, they would, and they would try to do everything within their power to make do.

Saeyoung had done the same thing, actually. He made the best of his own nightmare within those hellish agency walls. The RFA became a place for him to breathe far away from those who dared to make him live with a target on his back, but it wasn't true freedom from the fear he'd known since he and his brother were little boys.

Luck was what helped those boys survive everything they suffered as boys and young adults, and as happy as you were to be with them on the other side of that pain, you wondered how they found hope in all of it. You knew they had no choice and they did the best they could in a horrible situation, just as anyone would, but how did the hope they experienced feel on a personal level?

What did Saeyoung use to feel hopeful when he couldn't focus on the promise Rika and V made him? What hope did Ray or Saeran find in a cesspool of torment that lied to them to see the next day? Even if you had a rough notion of their feelings, your queasy stomach couldn't do the same for your own nerves.

The kind of hope you wished you could find again... the hope that saw them through their worst nightmare. You wanted to find that hope for yourself again.

In all honesty, you weren't all that different from them.

You had no choice but to find hope in whatever place you could when you were younger, and you managed to scrape by with whatever you could find, even if it felt like you were grasping at breadcrumbs for a taste of something sweet and warm to stave off the misery.

It worked for a while, and you believed in your heart that things would someday become better and the memories of the bitter past would fade away... like footprints in the sand.

But, something changed since those years you felt like you could hope for the better, and that something chipped away at what you wanted to believe in. Life wasn't a fairytale, and things couldn't be neatly contained with a bow and ribbon. Granted, that didn't mean you had nothing to hope, dream, or look forward to. There were so many things in this world you were happy to see on the horizon, yet, plenty more that left you feeling hopeless at the same time.

You weren't sure there was a perfect answer to your question, but you knew Saeran would try his best to find one to ease your heart.

Taking the spot at your side, Saeran wrapped his blanket around your shoulders so you could curl into him. "If you would've asked Ray this question, he would've told you that you were his hope, or rather, the idea of you gave him hope. Rika promised him that you would be his after you tested the messenger and he would never have to hack or hurt people ever again. His hope... was built off a fantasy he built for himself. If he doubted himself, he imagined being close to you to see himself to the next day."

You knew Ray had preconceived notions of you before you met, but only when he realized you were more than his daydream did he truly start to fall in love with you, and you with him in return. He survived that terrible place because he could dream of you and a future filled with peace... even if he knew it had every chance to backfire.

"Saeran, on the other hand, would've told you that he didn't have any hope left to spare. He had to give all of his hopes and dreams to Ray because Rika told him he was a weapon and a weapon alone. Ray could dream, and that's why he struck out against you so hard in the beginning. If Ray couldn't be hopeful, neither could he. Yet, he realized he still had hopes and dreams when he was with you, and he knew if he was honest with himself, Rika would hurt him like she hurt his Ray."

Saeran, ever the strongest because he had no choice, wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with him, but he largely had no choice but to play along with Rika's games. He couldn't deny his heart any more than Ray could, and it nearly cost them their lives at Rika's hand.

They never abandoned hope despite everything pleading with them to let go.

You sought out his hand and held it close to your heart. You wanted him to feel it. "And, you? What about you, my love?"

"I've realized that... Hope isn't something we find in one person, it's not found in some outstanding fantasy, either. Hope is what we find in the little moments that make life feel worth it. When you smile at me from the other side of the room, when we can go on a date and see a film together at the movies, when you bring me a drink while I'm knee-deep in the garden, and... the list goes on. Hope is something we can all experience if we choose to enjoy the little moments just as much as we indulge in the fantastical ones."

The little things, huh?

"I guess... I've been so focused on the big things that I've lost sight of the importance of moments like this," you looked down at your lap as his honesty washed over you. "It's overwhelming, Saeran. I want to be able to enjoy moments like this but it's difficult to breathe knowing... knowing how difficult things are going to become for everyone. I am aware of the fact that it's not wrong to take care of yourself before... before you take care of others, but right now, it feels like my hope is the last thing that anyone needs to worry about."

Saeran shook his head. "On the contrary, my love. Hope is what helps people in their darkest moments. Even if what they hope for sounds... I don't know, silly. You need to be able to hope for something—to feel like those little moments matter—otherwise you'll fall into despair. Do you remember how V and Rika were near the end? They both gave up on themselves, preferring to live in denial than face the truth. They said they had no hope left to spare, but that... that was because the two of them decided they didn't deserve it."

You hadn't thought about them in a while. But, Saeran wasn't wrong about them. You knew you were worthy of hope, just as much as any other person was, but that fear of not doing enough for others when you, yourself, needed to be taken care of, too, was what struck them in the foot. They'd deserved it but they ran away from outstretched hands until the very end when Saeran extended his instead.

You were scared, and by God, you were tired, too. You didn't want to run away but you didn't know how to handle any of the feelings that came with this dread.

"...Do you think I can find the strength to hope again, Saeran?"

"I know you will," he said in that earnest voice that made you fall in love with him in the first place. "Because I'll be right there with you every step of the way. Your hope is mine, and my hope is yours. We will see a brighter tomorrow, I have no doubt about that, but... we'll also see a bright day today, because hope exists for the present, too, just as much as the future."

[hauntedhokage]

A little Oliver something from @silverrings-n-prettythings prompt list.

Taking your chin in between their fingers, wordlessly asking permission + “What if I told you I don’t want to leave yet?”

It's something that had been on his to-do list since the breakup. The little makeup bag sitting on his counter, filled with things that weren't his to hang onto anymore. You'd already come back for your things, but clearly had missed the bag sitting on the counter - and he hopes it's not because it was something he had given you.

"Just think you should have some stuff at my place" had been his reasoning, terrified to ask you to do something so serious. That hadn't ever been him, too happy to love 'em and leave 'em to prevent broken hearts. Being a "one woman guy" hadn't been for him - not until you, and that turned out less than wonderful. He'd never been in a relationship before, your university schedule conflicting with his soccer schedule making your relationship much more stressful than either of you had wanted it to be.

Breaking up was the healthy thing to do. Towards the end, the only time you weren't bickering was when you were having sex, growing insecurities on both sides rearing their ugly heads and putting additional pressure on the already fragile relationship. Breaking up was the right thing to do; but as he stares at the little black bag on his counter, Oliver can't help but wonder if he should've fought for you.

But he's gotta return it, there were things in there that you should have. He's sure the toothbrush and makeup had already been replaced but those earrings he knew you loved. They'd been a gift from your best friend, something that didn't belong in his bathroom. Maybe he was hoping that you'd come back for them, come back to him and give him the opportunity to talk things out. Subconscious wishful thinking keeping the bag on his counter for weeks.

He has to return it, get the item off the to-do list and hopefully force the closure that he needed on this chapter of his life. Maybe he'd try dating again when he was retired, without a schedule causing undue stress on his partner, when he had the time to dedicate to them like they deserved.

His knock on your door is gentle, a shaky hand connected to a man who wasn't ready to face his ex. He didn't know what to say, or if you'd even let him talk to you, and that scared him more than he ever thought it would. He was a big bad defender, Japan's U-20 defender, and here he was nervously fiddling with a little makeup bag as your front door finally opens.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah, hey." He's relieved when you open the door wider, only to feel his mouth dry when you lean in the doorway and he sees what you're wearing. His jersey, maybe shorts underneath but they would've been too short for him to see. You kept the jersey he gave you - didn't throw it away or donate it - and you still wore it. His name on your back, Japan's flag on your shoulder and you looked so fucking beautiful in it.

"Are you gonna say something?" You sound uncertain, maybe as nervous as he was to stand in front of you like this. But he supposed that was normal, he did show up unannounced.

"Sorry to just pop up. You, uh, you left this at my place and I wanted to give it back to you." The bag is waved a bit, the contents can be heard shuffling inside and he's praying your earrings are undamaged after that. "Those earrings were in it."

"You bought the bag, I didn't-"

"It was always a gift, always yours." Your eyes widen as you nod, taking the bag when he held it out to you. "You look good in my number."

"You always said that."

"And I meant it every time."

You bite your lip, something that you did whenever he'd flattered you. Cute and bashful, horrible at taking compliments, but he loved that about you. Loved getting your cheeks all warm and that little pout when he teased you for it, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside in a way that nobody had ever made him feel. Fuck, did he miss you. Necessary breakup or not, he wanted you to be his again.

"You probably have practice, right? You should maybe get going."

"What if I told you I didn't want to leave yet?" He tries to sound as un-intimidating as possible, being mindful of how it may feel to have an ex-boyfriend show up unannounced. This was your space, your rules, but he can't stop his hand from moving.

Your chin fit so perfectly between his thumb and index finger; your body doesn't recoil from his touch, he swore you'd leaned in closer. He can't bring himself to ask the question, but he knows that you know what he's looking for when you nod ever so slightly and lean up into him. The invitation, the indicator that you'd missed him just as much as he'd missed you.

He'd be late to practice, and he'd be taking that overnight bag home with him, too. So much for that to-do list.

[aayakashii]

I'd like to let the people that have asked for the 3rd chapter of "(maybe) distance makes the heart grow fonder" know that I have begun writing for it once again!!! 🫡

I'm planning on outlining the whole chapter soon so I can write it as soon as possible >:)

Meanwhile, here's a little teaser of something that will be included in the next chapter:

Warning: blood, graphic imagery!

"Through the thick fog that encompassed your whole being, you saw a dog. 

It felt like a lifetime since you’ve last seen one. A real one. Darkwick clearly had a preference for unnaturally skilled cats (demons? You weren't sure at that point), so you never saw dogs – at least not ones with a normal snout and little beaded, bright eyes.

Maybe they weren't as dextrous? Well, it didn't matter.

But still, you saw a dog. And it was wagging its long, fluffy tail and panting happily, as if it was overjoyed to see you, as if it was an old friend you were supposed to recognize.

You didn't see your blurred, foggy surroundings, you just saw the dog – its dark, greyish coat and bright yellow eyes, the size of a labrador. It trotted towards you, head bowed down as it showed you it meant no harm. As it got right beside your feet, it laid down and showed its belly, begging for pets.

You smiled. The dog was so happy to see you. You wonder when was the last time anyone was this happy to see you.

You crouched down in order to pet it, and it wiggled gleefully under your hands, one paw shaking as you scratched a particularly good spot. Despite yourself, you cooed, telling him how he was so cute, such a good boy, so adorable. And it loved your praise, tail wagging a mile an hour.

After a few peaceful minutes, however, it started whining. It flopped down onto its side and got up quickly, startling you out of your happy daze.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You asked with the softest voice you cojld muster, but it whimpered and curled into itself, ears flat against its head and tail tucked between its legs.

It was looking over your shoulder.

Without a second thought, you twisted your torso to see what was scaring it.

All you registered was a tall, woman-like figure with limbs bent unnaturally, one huge eye surrounded by purple, blue, red, and white flowers; and a mouth slit into a wide, bloody smile.

Your mind screamed for you to leave, to run, to hide, no, no, not again, not again, not again, please not again–

But you were glued in place, breath hitched inside your throat as you couldn't do much, but take it all in.

There was something different in the scenario, though.

Right in front of the woman, there was a hunched, red-headed man with tousled hair. He turned around slowly, as if he could sense your gaze fixed upon him. His toxic green eyes lock onto your figure, disdain and anger threatening to melt your bone like acid. Copious amounts of blood soaked his neck and white shirt, but most of all – his face. Chunks of anomalous flesh fell from lips as his tongue darted out to lick the blood coating his skin.

You finally noticed how red your surroundings looked out of nowhere. 

The dog was long gone.

You were alone again.

Taiga slowly placed the barrel of his golden, glittering gun onto your forehead with a blank expression. You tried to open your mouth and yell in a desperate attempt to have him recognize you, but your whole body felt heavy like lead.

All you could feel was the cold metal of his gun touch your forehead.

The piercing pain came right after the loud gunshot."

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

For writing requests, could you write something with Wind and an older sister reader?

Glycerine

Pairing: Wind & Reader

Warning(s): None, just some found-sibling fluff!

Notes: Inspired by "Glycerine" by Bush. This is actually a bit angsty so prepare yourself lol.

Masterlist

You found Wind on the beach, sitting on the pale sand as his outstretched legs toed the line between surf and sand. It was a beautiful afternoon on Onset; the sun was high, the sky was clear, and tears had no place on the young hero's salt-swept cheeks.

"Wind?" you called, toes scrunching when they met sun-warmed granules, your boots kicked casually onto the grassy bank meters away. "Buddy?"

There was a gasp. The Sailor's shoulders jumped. He whirled to face you, already rubbing beneath his sea-colored eyes with a fist. He said your name, once, and forced a smile that looked entirely too watery for comfort. "H-Hey... I thought you were teaching Aryll how to sew."

You shrugged, taking a seat beside him. A part of you wanted to cringe at the thought of all the sand you would undoubtedly find on yourself when this was over, but a larger, stronger part whispered that it was worth it. For him. "I was, but she's a quick learner, like someone else I know."

Another soft, uncharacteristic smile, nothing like the blinding grins he usually treated you with. The muscles in your jaw ached as they fought to keep a neutrally-friendly expression. "Yeah," said Wind, sneaking unusually pensive glances at the roaring ocean. "Wild's pretty sharp, huh?"

Your brow furrowed. You scooted an inch closer. "I meant you, kid."

This time, he looked at you. This time, he seemed to see you. "I'm sorry," he apologized. A habit, you assumed, though it was wholly unnecessary. Tone heavy with an emotion that had your heart twisting in your chest, he continued: "I've just been... thinking."

Oh dear, it was one of those days. You planted your hands behind you, using them as makeshift anchors to lean back a few inches. A thick, salty breeze swept through the beach, further ruffling Wind's nest of hair. You debated running back to the house to grab a brush, but refrained. "About?"

Silence. You didn't push, but you did watch. Red-rimmed eyes, fidgeting hands, suspicious stains on the sleeves of his tunic. In so many ways, Wind was a fully-fledged adult. He could fight, swear, and scream, but it was always the little things that reminded you just how young he was.

The hero chewed his lip, knees drawing up to his chest. Your eyes flicked to the pants he wore–a gaudy orange that you weren't sure had come from teenage rebellion or a treacherously misguided fashion sense–and immediately settled on a small rip near the right ankle.

"I know Legend's prickly, but he'll help you with those if you ask," you mused, almost to yourself. Wind immediately glanced at his pants, and a heavy breath slipped past his chapped lips. Too sad, too old; something was definitely wrong.

"Oh, wow, I hadn't..."

'Noticed it' went unsaid, so you decided to fill the silence.

"You're only going to miss her more if you stay out here," the words slipped off your tongue like silk, though they could have weighed more than a thousand sparkling suns. Maybe they did, and you were simply used to the reality where hard things were said without a second glance.

"She'll miss me if I go back," said the young, vibrant, effervescent hero in a tone that was so melancholic that you briefly considered calling Time over from the comfort of the home's sleeping area, but the memory of him downing no less than four bottles of Elixer Soup suggested the eldest hero had plans that didn't include comforting whichever boy decided today was the day for a long-awaited existential crisis.

You sighed. You closed the distance, wrapping your arm around Wind's shoulders. They were broader than you remembered, but you'd be damned if you let the fact that he was growing intercede with hug timeTM. It didn't take long for the Sailor to accept his fate, shoulders finally dropping as he exhaled a breath typically observed in divorced men in their forties. You'd have to tell Warriors that one. "It's hylian nature to miss someone," you said; gently, not because he was a child, but because he needed it. "It means she cares. Means you care."

"Does it?" was Wind's response, and you couldn't help the snort that escaped you.

"Of course it does," you paused to let the meaning sink in, then added with a conspiratorial grin: "Didn't anyone tell you not to question your elders?"

Wind's ears perked up, but you couldn't find it in you to regret giving him an in. "Yeesh, I didn't know you were that old."

"Rude, I'm actually like, super young," you huffed, injecting as much faux irritation into your tone to hide the fact that you were secretly rejoicing the spectacular return of his borrowed dad jokes, because, really, one could only spend so much time around Warriors and Time before they too found themselves corrupted. You shifted in the sand, gaze turning to the sun, hovering above the horizon like a firebrand, and a small part of you was glad Twilight was currently consumed with that tile game Four played almost religiously. "It's getting late," you told the Sailor. Softly. Kindly.

Wind's toes curled in the waterlogged granules. A foaming wave washed forward, crashing against the boy's pruning skin. His response was a mere whisper above the roaring surf. "She cried when I left," a sandy-colored head leaned against your arm, soft enough that you could have pretended it wasn't there at all.

"Everyone cries, Link," you reassured him, though the results had yet to be seen. "It's what makes us hylian."

Silence.

You heaved a breath.

"Give your sister a hug, kid."

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, and The Hero of the Winds began to cry in earnest.

"How is he?"

You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of Warriors' voice, glancing up at the Captain, who looked just as tired as you felt. His armor was nowhere in sight, leaving him in an off-white button-up and a pair of tan trousers.

A sigh forced itself from your lips, and you finally spared a glance at the sleeping boy on the mat next to you, one of your arms caged in his tight embrace while the other rested on your stomach. It had taken some convincing--and a hell of a lot of luck--to get the youngest hero into bed, and you hadn't the heart to tug yourself away when he latched onto you, face buried in the soft flesh of your bicep.

"Better," was your response, the ghost of a yawn tugging at the heels of your words. "If you couldn't tell, he's had a rough day."

The floor creaked as Warriors got comfortable beside you, keeping a respectful distance as he settled on one arm, gazing down at the both of you. "I'll say," he murmured, quiet enough that you hardly heard it. A pause, then: "You should rest."

This time, you didn't bother stifling your yawn, uncaring of how it might negatively affect your case. "Someone's gotta keep watch, Wars."

The Captain was unimpressed, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow in obvious disagreement. You were almost jealous. "Yes, me. You're going to have just as rough a day as the Sailor if you don't sleep."

You rolled your eyes, hoping to draw things out as much as possible. You didn't want to leave Wind alone, you couldn't. "Pshh, who needs sleep?"

The floor groaned just as Warriors opened his mouth to offer what you assumed to be a spectacularly-planned rebuttal, only to let it click shut when Time's rumbling baritone filled the small room. Fuck. "What's this about sleep?"

Warriors cerulean eyes found yours, and it was a battle unto itself not to hiss at the smug glint that filled them. He nudged your shoulder, and you went ramrod straight, praying it wasn't enough to disturb Wind. "Just trying to convince a certain someone that insomnia isn't the answer."

That jerk!

"Is that so?" You could practically feel Time's gaze on you. Piercing, all-knowing; like a fucking owl. The floor groaned once more, and you turned your head to watch Time settle on your other side, directly behind Wind. Between him and Warriors, this was turning into a very unnecessary hylian sandwich. "The Captain is correct," said the eldest hero in a tone that sounded like he was laying down a law rather than talking about something as mundane as needing sleep. "Rest. We'll take turns."

"After you drank all that sleepy-time soup? I think not," you shot back, feeling a bit braver than usual. Maybe it was the night, or maybe it was because some twisted part of you wanted to be the only one to protect the youngest hero. "You two need it more than me. It's hard being old."

The Captain sputtered in quiet disbelief. Legend would be proud. "You think I'm old?"

"Actually, the word I meant was 'ancient'–"

"You're so lucky the Sailor's here."

"What're you going to do, lecture me to death–?"

"Quiet, you two," Time interjected, sounding every bit the old man that he was. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, allowing yourself to fall silent for Wind's sake. Warriors made a huffing sound, but also quieted, shuffling to lean against one of the beams protruding from the wall. "There's no reason for all of us to stay up," ugh, that's why you were doing it for them! The Hero of Time said your name like an errant child, followed by a very punctuated: "Go to sleep."

There was no fighting with Time, you knew. He would win, and you would still be on your back next to the youngest hero whether you wanted it or not. Fucking heroes, always trying to look out for others before themselves, and Hylia knew the boys practically drooled at the prospect.

With a drawn-out sigh that rivaled Wind's in supposed age, you let your head fall against the woven mat, a springy thing that would have coaxed you to sleep hours ago had it not been for the boy clinging to your arm. "Fine," you relented, a mere breath in the inky, candle-shadowed expanse of the room. Eyes shut, but not asleep, you mumbled: "Night, Wars, Time."

Warriors' arm stretched over your stomach, his hand reaching to pat down the hem of Wind's shirt as it stretched up, revealing pearly flashes of the Sailor's skin, warm with sleep and rising with steady breaths, not unlike the gentle rocking of a ship upon the Great Sea's waters. Even after the youngest hero's modesty had once again been preserved, the Captain didn't move his arm, and you suspect its purpose was as much to keep you in place as it was to correct a potential wardrobe malfunction. "You're a jerk," you mumbled in half-hearted exasperation.

The Hero of Warriors' chuckle was loud in your ear. "Takes one to know one."

"Children," said Time from the other end of the sandwich, and you rightfully shut up. Fuck him, you could wield a sword as well as any of the others, which meant you were basically an adult by those criteria alone. Plus, you were dashingly attractive and that had to count for something!

Whatever, dad, you thought with an imaginary eye roll, because the eldest hero practically had eyes on the back of his head. He would know, and you were in no mood for another lecture after the one you received for aiding Wild in his quest to ride animals that were most certainly not meant to be ridden.

Sleep never came easy when you were worried, but something was different. While Warriors wasn't mashing himself to your side like Wind seemed intent of doing, the Captain was no less warm, and it was a battle not to hum when an errant insect brought him scooting closer, the heat from his chest soaking into your other arm. It was becoming increasingly obvious: you were trapped by these lovable dorks, and when Time's miraculously un-armored arm swung over to plant across the three of you, the deal was all but sealed.

Darkness blackened the corners of your vision, and the last thing you saw was Wind's sleep-soaked grin uptick in the candlelight.

Someone was calling your name.

You cracked your weary eyes open, ears straining to catch the ghostly mumble of your name; a strange, simultaneously booming and whispered call that seemed to ring in the very recesses of your eardrums. A soft groan left your mouth, only for something to slap down on your face.

"Shh, shh, they'll wake up!"

...Huh??

There was something– nay, someone above you. Someone with stormy blue eyes, wavy blonde hair, and–

"Wind?"

Wind grinned at the sound of his name, his teeth glimmering porcelain in the faint candlelight. His hands returned to your shoulders, shaking softly, and you realized you were still in bed, surrounded by the limp, sound-asleep frames of Time and Warriors, the latter of whose arm was still slung tightly around your stomach. "That's me," he whispered, nearly vibrating with excitement. Ominous, but you were here for it. And, as if the Goddesses themselves had heard your plea for answers that weren't complete horseshit, he continued: "I thought of a new game to play! But I need to test it out first."

Ah, right. If anyone liked games, it was Wind, and you were his all-too-gullible partner-in-crime. Only, these types of exchanges usually occurred at respectful hours of the morning or afternoon, prompting another, less exhausted groan from your mouth. "Can't this wait until morning, bud?"

The Sailor paused to consider the conundrum. "I just..." fuck, he was bringing out the wet baby seal eyes. Little bastard knew you didn't stand a chance. "I don't want to forget it..."

As predicted, your resolve crumbled in the face of his patented sad animal eyes. "Okay, okay," you relented, sitting up on your elbows, keeping your tone especially low to keep the adults trapped in their slumber. "But you have to help me get past Wars, yeah?"

"Duh," was his response, and you had no choice but to crack an equally conspiratorial grin as the Sailor helped you lift Warriors' arm up. He held it as you slid free, snagging a stack of blankets from the corner as a decoy.

Until the Captain grunted, expression scrunching as he registered the change in warmth, and your soul nearly burst out of your chest. Gently, shoving Wind to the side, you bent down to whisper in the Captain's ear in your best barmaid sexy voice: "I'll be just a moment, sugar, then we can continue where we left off ;)"

Another grumble left Warriors mouth, but it was significantly softer, and punctuated by a smacking noise as he attempted to kiss the blanket pile, which would have made for spectacular blackmail, if you were being honest. Where was Wild's Shiekah Slate when you needed it?! With the Captain distracted, you slipped around him, linked arms with Wind, and skipped into the pseudo-darkness like the troublemakers you were.

Once outside, you turned to the Sailor. "So! What's up, buttercup?"

"Well..." and thus began Wind's explanation of his latest 'game', which honestly sounded more like an excuse to run around on the beach than something with actual rules, but, once again, you were here for it. Until he got to the part about rolling in the waves in the dark. Especially when he got to the part about rolling in the waves in the dark.

When he was done, you placed your hands on your hips and grinned like the responsible older sibling you totally were. "That sounds super unsafe, so it'll totally be fun!"

Wind's mirroring grin could have outshone the sun, which was especially helpful considering it was nearly pitch black outside. "Right?! I bet we can get Wild to play today, too!"

"Wait, don't you mean tomorrow?"

"Huh? It's totally today; you were asleep for a while."

"...Wind, were you watching me sleep?"

"What? No! That was Time," the Sailor jammed his thumb into his chest, not passing up an opportunity to throw shade on his brothers. "I have manners."

You raised your hands in faux distress. "Ah, my mistake, good sir! My deepest apologies."

"You should be!" There was a roar, and Wind's head instantly whipped to the foaming surf. "Okay, let's go play before Time and Warriors wake up."

"I'd love nothing more," you patted his shoulder, subsequently raising your palm to meet his in a high-five that rang through the beach like a particularly juice ass slap. Not that you knew what one of those sounded like, per se, but with Legend and Warriors' playful rivalry still going strong, you didn't need to.

"Last one to the waves is a crab!" Wind yelled, dashing towards the waves, with you hot on his heels as an answering whoop tore from your throat.

The game without rhyme or rhythm carried well into the night, until the early morning light bathed the crashing ocean and footstep-marred sand, kicked up from hours of play. Your legs ached from running, and you were sure even Sky could have overtaken you in a race at this point, but it didn't matter. You were free, and you were having fun.

"Can't catch me!" Wind screamed in delight when you tried to tag him, dancing just out of reach like the agile little shit that he was, but you had been preparing for this moment your entire life, using the last of your energy to perform a sort of lunging dive, catching him in the stomach and sending the both of you rolling into the shallow waves, coughing and sputtering as you fought to catch your breath, soaked from head-to-toe and damn proud of it.

"You were saying, you slippery munchkin?!" you giggled, nose throat sore from all the saltwater inhaled over the course of the night. The Sailor sorted, reaching into the shallows and flicking a clump of seaweed at your face. You shrieked and dodged spectacularly, but he was ready with another, larger wad that managed to smack against your cheek, effectively sending you into another half-sputter, half-laughing fit as gallons of saltwater soaked the thick fabric of your tunic and trousers.

"Eat weed, loser!"

"Never!"

Your hand sunk into the sand and, before you knew it, a large clump of it was flung in Wind's direction, catching him in the blue-clothed chest.

Wind gasped.

"Oh, it's ON."

The following ten minutes devolved into what could only be described as a sand-ball fight to the death. Sand was thrown, dignity was abandoned, and you were absolutely positive you would be picking granules out of your holes and hair for the next month, but the sound of his laughter was worth every single grain.

It was only when the front door to the house slammed open and a near-frantic Warriors stumbled outside did you pause, sand pouring from your half-cocked hand. "WHERE–" the Captain caught sight of the two of you, covered in dirt and grinning like the maniacs you were, and simultaneously looked like ten years of his life had been spontaneously snatched away. Rumor has it his groan could be heard on the next island over. "–oh, you've got to be kidding me..."

"I'm a crab!" You called over the waves, eager for yet another opportunity to screw with him.

"Actually, you're a–" Warriors paused, placing his hands together like he was about to pray that your stupidity didn't infect him, too. His mouth moved with exhausted desperation: "Calm, Link, calm."

You and Wind exchanged a glance, but it was quickly broken when Time's silhouette filled the doorway, face curiously blank as he surveyed the scene over the defeated captain's shoulder.

A beat passed.

Time turned on his heel. Time went back inside, steps heralded by Warriors' betrayed whimper. You and Wind high-fived.

It wasn't always easy staying positive when it came to life, but with them, you were willing to try.

Whew! That was a long one! I was super inspired for this, and I hope y'all enjoyed!!

A 'lil extra for y'all:

"Time to get back to bed... sugar," Warriors visibly cringed at your appointed nickname, arms crossed over his chest, and Time looked a hairs-breadth away from smacking his palm to his forehead in exasperation.

You and Wind exchanged a glance that spoke a thousand words. Ignoring the vexed shouts from the older heroes, the Sailor jumped on your back and the two of you sped off into the sunrise, whooping like the madlads you were.

[dearmyloveleys]

love and hatred each fill half the heart.

大梦归离 (Fangs of Fortune) 2024

(3/?)

[slvttyplum]

“i done let that liquor turn me slvt.”

all suguru wanted to do when he got drunk was fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, all over the place. he didn't care when; he didn't care where; he just wanted his dick inside of you, nice and warm.

he hated when he got drunk and you weren't with him, there was no point for him to get drunk if he didn't have you to experience it with. his head and heart pounding the more he got drunk

sometimes he didn't want to just fuck; sometimes he just wanted your pussy on his mouth, dripping your sweet taste all over his tongue and down his throat, taking you in like he hasn't tasted anything in years.

his eyes hanging low and his dick hard while eating you out.

he always got loose while drunk, overly horny and slurring his words; the only thing he wanted to do was touch you, taste you, and feel you up, licking his lips at the sight of you.

"come on, don't be like that. come here." pulling your arm, putting you on his lap, no thoughts, just you, thinking of putting you in every position imaginable.

squeezing you tight as you got ready for bed, resting his chin on your shoulder and whispering in your ear, practically begging for him to at least have a taste.

"want me to fuck you or eat you out? pick or i'll do it for you." his hand sliding down your panties, his finger sliding down your soaking slit and over your swollen clit, you couldn't tell him no, not when he made you feel like this.

then before you knew it, you were in the same position. your hands hugging his ankles and your pussy grinding on his mouth just the way he liked it, satisfied but still wanting more.

even after all that and trying to sleep off the liquor, he'll still wrap his arms around you in the middle of the night, rubbing his hard dick into your ass, moaning and begging for you to just open your legs.

"i promise, just let me do all the work. hm?"

suguru always got antsy when he was drunk; once his dick was up, he wanted to get going right then and there, like you were going to slip from his fingertips, his mouth wet and his dick leaking.

as much as he loved having your pussy in his mouth and having you drip and squirm on his face, that was his second choice when begging; he was selfish; he wanted his dick stuffed inside of you, warm and buried.

he was a little slut when drunk, his true nature, letting you entertain it and tame his cravings.

[skyrigel]

Omega!reader making a nest

Simon was flipping a pancake when you came tip toeing, unsure and frowning before rubbing an off white shirt up and down his muscled arms.

“Want pancakes, love ?” He asked, only to find his lovely omega sniffing up the shirt with a hum and going' back to bedroom. He huffed and poured the sizzling batter.

Five more minutes he watched with concerned eyes, while you ignored his many calls to eat something, just looking up with an unsatisfactory glance around, taking discarded socks and even tissues Simon was sure he threw just this morning, picking random objects up and sniffing them before looking at him with glowing eyes and asking him to hold them or rub these things on him.

“What is it baby, huh ?” He asked again, pouring maple syrup and chocolate over the pancakes just as you liked.

This time, you regarded him —“Gimme ya shirt.” And by that, you weren't even asking, straight up demanding with your palm outstretched to ask for the shirt he was wearing.

“Oh.” Simon chuckled, it took him only a moment to unbutton swiftly and hand over the shirt to you. “Need anything more, your highness ?”

“Mmm” You seemed to think for a bit, then without warning pinched out his hair, and with a satisfying smile rushed back to bedroom, unaware of your amused yet stunned alpha.

“Come back here ya lil' sweetie !” Simon called after you, holding up the breakfast plate.

He waited for you to come out again and hope around in for your odyssey but you didn't come out again.

Simon smiled to himself, knowing what you were upto and decided this was getting concerning and needed intervention right now. So he set aside the plate and wandered inside the bedroom.

And there he found his beautiful omega, you were biting your lips and tapping your foot like you always did when anxious, looking at the bed which has been now decorated with many of his clothes, his used cup, and his socks, there was his military gear too, all stacked up beautifully in an clumsy attempt.

Simon's heart welled up with extreme affection, his precious omega was making a nest with his things, everything that smelled like him.

“Babe—” he reached out to you, but your shoulders were already shaking with unshed tears. “This is not good.” You sniffed back as Simon's big hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you until your tears kissed his bare chest.

“It's the most beautiful nest my love. Look at you, my lil’ omega working so hard.” Simon coddled you, his eyes glancing at the bed with heart eyes, there were pillows from the couch he was napping this morning over. The newspaper he was reading was secured too, his mask was tucked in the middle of the headboard. You made it all around him because he was your safe place, your alpha mate.

“Do you like it ?” You looked up with tears stained eyes, honestly it felt like a mess to you, like a cluster of things you'd gathered up and dumped together.

But Simon made you feel safe, you couldn't imagine anything else in your nest except everything that was him.

Simon kissed your forehead first, then a peck to your lips and again, because you were his.

“I love it,” He smiled with bright eyes, “I love you my baby.”

Masterlist

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 1st. theodore — size kink, big dick.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | 2024.

summary: there’s a rumour going around that theodore nott has a big dick…..why not see it for yourself?

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, hogwarts uni (obviously), big dick!theo, size difference, size kink ofc, fingering, PIV, dirty talk, slowish sex, put on your fantasy cap for this one bc it’s a little wild, also, anyone know any wheelchair providers?

How the hell did you end up here? How had a night meant for celebration, for laughter and drinks and the triumph of a Quidditch victory, lead to this—

Fevered kisses, teeth clashing—your breath catching in the dim, muted glow of Theodore Nott's dorm—spine pressed against his door as his lips attacked yours, moving to your neck with a hunger that had your knees weak. There was a party, still alive somewhere down the hall, warmth spilling into the corridors, the echo of cheers and laughter floating past—but it was all a distant memory now. All of it blurred, lost in the way Theo's hands roamed over your hips, tugging you closer like he was starved.

Oh, right—the rumours.

Rumours have always had a way of creeping into places they don't belong. A whisper here, a careless word there. Stupid little fires, barely a spark until someone fans the flames. You've seen it before—how a single rumour can grow, how it can warp a simple night into something bigger. Something chaotic.

And now, well, you're living it.

Curiosity was what pulled you into his orbit tonight, what sparked the embers that had been burning between you two for far too long. Because Pansy Parkinson—loud, exaggerative, and far-too-tipsy—couldn't resist spilling some gossip mid-party, something about Daphne, something about Theodore and nine goddamn inches.

You know, the usual Quidditch post-match talk.

And it should have been nothing. It should have got lost in all the other Slytherin boy ramblings but instead, it stuck. Gods, it fucking stuck. Pansy's little comment sparked the fire in you, a fire that led to a conversation over drinks, your hand grazing his, and before you knew it, you were leaning into Theodore Nott at the punch bowl, asking questions you had no blasted right asking, yet went ahead and did anyways.

Something about...well—

"You've heard, then," he'd replied, voice low as those blue eyes watched you over the rim of his glass.

It wasn't a question. It was a challenge. For all the audacity you had—Theodore had just as much.

"I have," you leaned closer, your voice almost teasing as you whispered against the curve of his ear. "Big rumours, Teddy...huge, even."

He tensed, just slightly, the kind of reaction you noticed only because you were watching him so closely. You're pretty sure he wasn't expecting something like that to come out of your mouth—and you couldn't blame him, because truthfully, you weren't expecting it either.

That was, what you'd like to call, the point of no return.

There was a response from him. Something cocky enough—something like; "and do you make a habit of believing everything you hear?"

"Not everything," you said with a shrug, though your heart was in your fucking throat. "But I'm open to proof."

There weren't very many words exchanged after that—maybe some slight teasing—maybe another brush of his hand—but Theo was never a man to waste time, and it was clear that whatever curiosity you held for him had bubbled up now—heady and bold—and created a mess between you that couldn’t be contained.

The party, the victory, the cheers—it all became static as his hand slipped around your waist, his lips at your ear in a whisper. "Then let's put these rumours to rest."

You barely had the chance to nod before Theodore moved—grabbing your wrist and moving you through the crowd like you were something to be expedited, the sea of students parting before him. Pansy spotted you leaving, her eyes gleaming as she threw you a wicked smile and a drunken thumbs-up. You rolled your eyes, smirking back, but everything else blurred into the background as Theodore led you out of the common room, and before you knew it, you were inside his dorm.

The door slammed shut behind you, the cold surface meeting your back before his lips found yours—urgent, consuming. His hands moved with purpose, sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head before you even realized what was happening. His own shirt followed, discarded carelessly onto the floor as he pressed his body against yours.

The memory blurred as the urgency of the present took over. You gasped at the feel of him, his entirety—hard, aching, massive. The outline of him was impossible to ignore, the mere suggestion of what was to come already making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

The rumours had seemed absurd at first, but now...now, they felt terrifyingly real. He was huge.

"Tell me," he breathed, his voice a low rumble against your lips as his fingers worked deftly at removing your skirt. "About those rumours..."

Your head fell back against the door, exposing the line of your throat as his mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Whimpering, you caressed his shoulders, up his neck, finding his hair, fingers teasing the warm, hidden shell of his ears. At this, his back crested, and he moaned, pitching forward, hips working to fuse you with the door.

"I—I heard..." you tried to speak, but his mouth was on your neck, and the words tangled in your throat. "Gods—something about...nine inches..."

Theo hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, sending blood pooling low. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his lips hovering over yours, his breath hot and heavy as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up—carrying you toward his bed.

"What else." He muttered against your mouth.

"Daphne..." you panted, barely able to think straight with the way he was touching you, the way he was looking at you. "She...she said she couldn't take it all..."

"And if I say that's true?" He rasped, laying you down onto his comforter. "What then?"

A shiver shook you from the base of your spine, and you curled your legs around him, core clenching hard—he sprawled over you, his body massive—engulfing yours, roving his hands up and down your bare thighs as his lips left wet, warm kisses across your breasts, teeth digging into the sheer fabric of your bra—you were gasping, whimpering under him, your chest rising and falling so rapidly you'd think you'd ran a marathon.

"Gods—that's...an odd question, Teddy..." your hips bucked, seeking his touch, and he grazed your pussy over your underwear, thumb ghosting your clit through the fabric. You squeaked, and he silenced you with his mouth, tugging at the fabric until he'd fit his thick fingers under the hem. "Are you...mm..asking if I can handle it?"

"Fucking soaked already," Theo peeled away, gasping, watching you as he slid a digit through your hot slit, his breath hitching. "Yes—I'm asking if you can handle it."

"Fuck—I don't—I don't know..." he dragged a slickened finger over your clit—you quivered, biting your lip until you found your words. "Only one way to find out."

"You're right," he breathed, swirling his finger, your body pulsing underneath him—every nerve within you roaring to life. "I'll be easy on you...I'll go slow..." his thumb took over, his middle and fourth finger teasing your entrance, lips hovering over your ear. "Let's stretch you out first."

"I—" you began, and he plunged into you. "—fuck."

Theo crooked his fingers in your cunt, eyes focused on your flushing face, the flow of your moans, his breath shallow as you clenched and pulsed around him. His thumb traced rapid little lines around your swollen clit, two long fingers filling you full. He wet his lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a brief kiss as he snapped his wrist, curling and scissoring inside of you. His hips rocked with his rhythm, and you caught sight of his erection straining against his jeans—

"Tight little thing," he growled, head dipping low as he watched his fingers disappear inside your dripping cunt. "I might fucking break you."

He jutted his erection against your thigh and you moaned, clenching around him. "Mm—Theo—"

His eyes followed yours toward his crotch—you couldn't help yourself, your fingers burned to feel him—to stroke him—to feel the weight of him in your hand. He nodded, and amidst your gasps and moans you reached for him, grasping at his zipper and undoing the button, tugging his jeans and boxers down his thighs—

Theo groaned and your mouth watered. Those rumours—Gods, those fucking rumours—

"Fucking hell—" you breathed, wrapping your fingers around his thick, heavy cock—he choked, digits pumping you deep—your thighs shook, your pulse in your throat. You tightened your fist and stroked him, watching him from half-lidded eyes. "Theo—holy fuck.."

His lungs sputtered. "That enough proof for you, Bella?"

You nodded and he throbbed—twitched under your grip, blood biting his cheeks when you coated his head with the bead of his pre-cum, his breath uneven, tattered from the weight of lust—but so was yours.

You moaned. "Oh—Gods—I'm—"

Theo circled your stiff nub, pumping his fingers into your pussy, and pleasure wracked you, pouring into your pulse, your orgasm charging toward you at light speed—his lips found yours, softly, muffling your moans.

"You're close, I can feel it..." he muttered against your mouth, fingers dragging at your walls, groaning as you clenched—as your free hand gripped his hair harder. "Cum on my fingers, Bella, go on..."

You shuddered and snapped—pleasure pulsating from your core and through your limbs, your orgasm lighting up your spine. In its intensity, you bit at his bottom lip while your cunt clamped down around his fingers, a feral energy coursing—the need for more—the need for every goddamn thing he was willing to give you eating away at your sanity—all coherent thought gone, only dissipating further as Theo pulled his fingers from your soaked cunt and sucked them clean with a growl.

"As fucking delicious as I'd imagined," he cooed, drifting his other hand up your thigh, fingers kneading the trembling flesh. You swallowed, lungs still working to find their rhythm. "I don't think you have any idea how long l've wanted this...any idea what you do to me..."

Gods—you almost wanted to laugh—this felt like a fever dream. You'd been friends for years, the fact it took this to get you both here was astonishing. His blue eyes peered down at you—wide and waiting.

"Look at you," you muttered, eyes dipping down to his throbbing dick, still twitching insistently in your hand. "I think I know exactly what I do to you."

Theo snuffed a groan in his throat, but his cock twitched again, despite himself—there was no preventing that.

"Cocky as ever," he whispered, lips curling in a teasing grin. "But now's not the time, principessa..."

"I can handle you," you breathed out, though a tremor in your voice hinted at the uncertainty you felt.

"We'll see." He said. "Lay on your side."

With a flush creeping up your neck, you complied, turning to face the window. The moonlight filtered through the glass, casting a silver sheen over the rippling surface of the Black Lake. Theo moved behind you, his body flush against yours, the slickness of sweat making your skin cling together—one arm slipped beneath your head, cradling it, while the other slid under your thigh, lifting it with a deliberate, practiced motion.

His dick slid against you, the girth daunting enough if not for the sheer fucking length of it—his body was massive behind yours, dwarfing you, a solid wall of heat at your back. You'd never felt so small, so fragile in a way that screamed breakable.

Theo teased your slit, covering himself in your juices—

"Just the tip, yeah?" He whispered, and fuck—you almost moaned. His voice was ruined. "For now."

"Theo—I—I think I can handle it..." you were trying to convince yourself as much as him. You wanted him to enjoy himself, too. "Just…fuck me, please.."

"Merlin help you..." Theo groaned and it almost sounded pitying—dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit before dipping lower, pressing against the folds of your greedy cunt— "you don't know what you're saying..."

His arm under your head curled inward, wrapping around your neck and holding you in place against him—his other hand guiding his length to your entrance and pressing in—shushing you softly as the first inch breached you and you cried out—as your mind blanked.

"Theo—" you gasped through the chokehold he had you in, his free hand holding your thigh up as it trembled. "That's—you're—fuck—"

He pulled out and rocked along you again, testing you, offering you centimeters of his length at time. Gooseflesh flooded you.

His lips pressed against your ear. "Shhh, you said you could handle me, yeah?"

His hand on your thigh shifted lower, resting on the crease. He rutted against you a few more times, dragging this out for everything it was worth until he brought the tip back to your entrance and pushed in—slowly, inexorably—spearing you open, splitting your cunt and prying you wide in a way that rid your breath.

You whimpered, hand scrambling for purchase on his hip behind you. "Ohhh—h-holy fuck.."

"Fucking hell...you're tight..." his arm around your neck tightened, holding you against him and he pressed in deeper. "That's barely half..."

You fought for air and found absolutely none, every muscle in your body tensing, your limbs trembling, your mind fizzing with staticky pleasure. You felt as though you could break in two.

"Fuck," he drew out again, and pressed back in. "You can barely take it."

He was right. You could barely fucking take it. A revelation that you weren’t surprised by—but that made all the blood in your body pool low, walls fluttering around him in protest.

"Gods, Theo—T-theo—" you grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, eyes squeezed shut. "Wait—"

"Little more...you're doing so good, Bella..." he was cooing now, pressing kisses to your cheek. "I'll make it fit...we'll make it fit, won't we?"

You couldn't find a fucking modicum of sense to articulate a response. All you could do was feel—take and feel—the way he slid out, only to drive into you again, slowly, with a hiss of air through his teeth—drawing out loud, shameless groans from your chest.

"Mmm—breathe, Bella..." it was soft, soothing, like he was trying to coax you open with words. "Relax for me, yeah? Let me in...let me in..."

You obeyed without even thinking, pulling in shaky breaths, forcing your body to comply, even as your muscles screamed to stay tense—to fight the overwhelming fullness of him. You felt as though he couldn't possibly get deeper, but then he did, and he continued to until he bottomed out—his cockhead kissing your cervix, forcing a sound out of your chest that was more a sob than a moan.

Your eyes were shut so tight. "That's—"

"All of me," he interrupted, satisfaction dripping from every syllable. He rolled his hips, grinding against you, barely pulling out before pushing back in, and your whole body clenched in response. "Does it hurt?"

Every movement proved indefinitely that he was as long as he was thick—your core stretching to accommodate him. You felt him in places you'd never felt before—moulding and carving you out just for him, digging out new space inside you that only he could occupy.

"A little—“ the words were a whimper, and your walls tightened around him instinctively, fighting to adjust, to accommodate the impossible size of him. “Gods—“

"Then why are you making it worse?" He hissed through his teeth, strain bleeding into his tone. You could hear the shift—wrecked, ruined, like he was barely holding onto himself. "Fuck, you're squeezing me...too tight...relax.."

He pulled out and thrust back in, harder this time, sucking in air through his teeth as he worked you wider with each plunge into your soaked cunt. Your body rebelled, clenching down around him again, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through you, his hips snapping against yours in response.

"That's not going to make it easier, you know." His voice was a tight growl, but there was a grin in it, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. "Keep that up and I'm going to leave you sore all day."

The thought made you clench again, your body betraying you as a broken apology fell from your lips—pain giving way to pleasure. "I'm—ohh—sorry-"

"Oh, you're going to be sorry." His pace quickened and you were seeing stars—bright and flashing and blurring your vision. "When you're spending all day in bed tomorrow...recovering..."

It only took seconds before he was grunting behind you—lost in your tight heat as he held you against him, hooking your thigh up toward your chest as his arm tightened around your neck, cock ramming your cunt—colliding with your cervix, pushing screams from your lungs. You couldn't think—couldn't catch your breath as he drove into you over and over.

"Fuck—so good…so fucking wet..." Theo moaned, the sound of his cock slippery and lewd, broadcasting evidence of your arousal. Face on fire, you tossed your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, chewing your lip, rocking with the force of his strokes. “You like that—being filled like this...greedy little thing..."

You whinged; he was boring into your stomach, delight gushing through your veins. You had never been with a man this endowed, and this fucking ruthless. It made you throb, set you aflame, whirled your brain with desire. Words eluded you.

"Ohh—yes,” you choked out between moans. "Gods—you're huge—"

"I am," he groaned in your ear, the hand on your thigh shifting to your belly, palm pressing against your pelvis—he eased his pace, offering you deep, slow strokes, letting you spasm around every goddamn inch. "That's how deep I'm in you."

At that, you moaned, shamelessly. Cocky bastard he was. You knew now that he was more than entitled to it.

"Can...fuck—can I cum in you?" His fingers slipped to your clit, slowly swirling over it—you didn't even have a second to process that question before the pleasure wracked you so hard you cried out, and he growled. "Fuck—let me cum in you...in this pretty little cunt.."

Somewhere in the blur, you registered his words—low, rough, pulling at the frayed edges of your sanity. Contraceptives. You were on them. It was the last rational thought you had left, buried deep under layers of heat and want. You knew you were fine, but the way he asked, in that voice—Gods—

His fingers increased their pace and you wailed. "Theo—holy f-fuck—yes—yes please!"

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt throbbed and milked his dick, your thighs twitching, and your back reached for the wall but his arm around you kept you in place, pleasure possessing your nerves. It seemed an eternity—he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, and then he shattered too—breath washing over the back of your neck, chest heaving and lungs sputtering as he spilled his release into you, deep and sticky and hot.

You were still floating between realms of sensation and reality—your mind struggling to tether itself back to consciousness when Theo finally pulled out, releasing you. Both of you were heaving, chests rising and falling in tandem, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction.

A moment passed, your breaths slowly steadying, when you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. You shot him a weak, lopsided smile over your shoulder, still catching your breath.

"You okay?" He murmured, his voice a quiet hum in the afterglow.

"More than," you nodded, though your body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure. A hollow ache replaced where he'd been, leaving you startlingly aware of how empty you felt without him. "That was...you are...

"I know," he purred, lips grazing the sensitive spot behind your ear, the smirk practically carved into his breath. You could feel his smugness radiating off him, a tangible thing. "Hope your curiosity was sated."

You let out a breathy laugh, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. "That, among other things."

"Good," he whispered, "I went easy on you."

You huffed, a slow smile creeping across your face. "Is that so?"

"Extremely so," he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip. "Took all the willpower I had."

"Sure," you teased. "You're just saying that because I took you so well."

He chuckled, low and sinful, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your spine.

"Oh, she's cocky," he drawled, lips brushing your shoulder. "We'll see about that after I put you in ten different positions."

Your heart stuttered, your muscles tensing at the sheer boldness of the statement. Heat pooled in your belly once more, that insatiable curiosity sparking again. You knew this night was far from over.

Perhaps a little more proof wouldn’t hurt...

You turned your head just slightly, voice breathy but wanting. "Please do."