#i hope you and misty are okay!!!!

[mongooseundertheporch]

"There's.... not much you can do honestly. For the most part, I just try to act calm and at ease myself, and some of them get that energy and keep it. I also give them a little like.... cove to hide in, if that makes any sense? A box on its side with blankets or something, small enough that it feels enclosed but easy to get out of."

"Happy New Year to those who celebrate, and to those who don't, I'm so sorry about the ruckus."

[heartz4shauna]

adult misty modibaord..... le do thoil............ if thags right cuz I am doing duolingo for irish 💞💌

i’m the sweetest girl in town

so,

why are you so mean?

[rafey-baby]

hidden

outlaw!rafe holding pogue!reader hostage in her own house after banging his fist on her door in the middle of a stormy night, demanding to be let in with a gun in hand and wild waves in the sea of his eyes…

c/w: rafe being manipulative, mentions of murder & violence, he’s also weirdly soft in the end? 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

he’s been stuck in my head for a while so hope u enjoy xx

series masterlist

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

There’s still sleep dust lingering in her lashes when she hesitantly cracks open the door at 3 am—revealing a tall, scary man with scarlet stains on his hands, white button up saturated in maroon and a scowl painted over his unsettling countenance.  

She stands there like a deer in headlights, unmoving while he looks down at her with arctic eyes as chilling as the frigid waters surrounding an iceberg. And at first, she thinks she’s still asleep, tired brain conjuring up some creepy murderer scenario where she’s the idiot who does everything the audience in the movie theater is screaming at her not to.

But as she properly blinks her sleepy eyes open, she comes to the realization that this is not a horror film and this intimidating stranger (with oddly appealing features) who’s definitely just killed someone is very much real.  

She’s about to open her mouth— unsure whether to scream for help or simply stare with her mouth hung open in shock, but she doesn’t get the chance to find out before he’s pasting his massive palm over her lips.  

“Don’t make a sound,” his low mutter makes a shiver run down her spine. And she doesn’t, instead she just blinks, too out of it to move a muscle— the reek of the dried blood on his hand hitting her nose and making her face scrunch up.

She doesn’t know why she’s not putting up any sort of a fight, blames it on the fact that half her brain is still swimming in the lake of her dreamland— soaking up the glittering sunbeams that never dull and dipping its toes in the grass that consists of misty nebula and twinkling stars. 

And he’s just so mean, manhandling her to his liking and ordering her around with a gun to her head; grumbling about needing a hiding place from the cops after dumping a body somewhere in the ocean and getting caught since apparently, his temper really just got the best of him at times.  

“Didn’t mean to kill the guy, alright? He jus’ kept bein’ a bitch ‘n pissin’ me off— I mean, I was, uh, I was provoked, what was I supposed to do?”

However, his explanation seems to do very little to soothe her overstrung heart that’s thudding in her ribcage; loud enough for him to hear and earning her an exasperated roll of his eyes.

“M’takin’ a shower now ‘n you’re not gonna move an inch, you understand? Cause if you do…m’gonna have to— m’gonna hurt you ‘n I don’t wanna do that, okay?” 

She merely nods her head, unable to string together a coherent sentence, and he takes note of the way her inhale gets caught in her throat when he takes a step closer. “You, uh, you live alone?”

She offers another nod of her head.  

“Dumb girl”, he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “When someone’s knockin’ on your door in the middle of the night you don’t— you don’t fuckin’ open, alright?”  

She’s making it entirely too easy for him.  

However, the second he’s in the bathroom, she forces her exhausted brain to think— hurriedly coming up with a rickety plan while she listens to the water streaming behind the door. She waits for only a a few seconds to make sure the coast is clear before she’s bolting towards her bedroom; trembling fingers grabbing her phone from her nightstand and trying to dial 911.  

Unfortunately, her shaky hands aren’t of any help when they clumsily drop the phone— the clattering sound of it hitting the floor echoing in the quietness of the room. And suddenly she can’t breathe.

Her brain short-circuits as she bends down in an attempt to reach for the wretched device that has somehow tumbled under her bed. However, when she finally catches it in an unsteady grip, she hears the shower turn off— an eerie stillness following. In her state of panic, she attempts to turn the phone back on and call for help, but it’s proving to be rather difficult since her lungs aren’t working and her heartbeat is ringing in her ears.  

“Boo,” a low whisper right behind her makes her flinch; a faint gasp leaving her while a shiver travels down her spine.

“Why’d you jus’ do that, huh? Told you I didn’t wanna— didn’t wanna fuckin’ hurt you ‘n then you go ‘n pull this shit,” a strong hand grips her by her throat when he turns her around to face him.  

“M’sorry, I— I don’t—” she’s paralyzed, respiration shallow while her blood runs cold.

“You don’t what, hm?” he stares into her horror-stricken eyes with an almost bored look, seeming to be entirely indifferent to her torment. 

“Can’t…can’t breathe,” her voice is nearly inaudible.

A grim chuckle bubbles from his chest in response. “Can’t breathe? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before, yeah?” he scoffs, cruel words mocking her.  

“You’re so fuckin’ stupid— want me to kill you? That what you want?” he grits out, squeezing her neck harder; making her feel dizzy.

“No! No, please. M’sorry…m’sorry, won’t— won’t do it again, promise, I’ll do anything—” she manages out, desperately gasping for air because he’s nearly crushing her windpipe in his unrelenting grip.  

“Anythin’ huh? That’s, uh, tha’s real temptin’ ‘n all but what I need you to do is not pull stupid shit like this, you get that?”  

“I won’t, I promise. You can, um, stay here for as long as you want and I’ll help, okay?” she thinks she’s going to pass out soon— little stars already peppering behind her fluttering lids and her weakened limbs beginning to feel heavy.

His coarse panting fills the room while he seems to contemplate her offer. “If you even think about runnin’ to the cops tonight, m’gonna fuckin’ find you, you understand?” 

She frantically nods and at last, his hold begins to loosen around her trachea, allowing for her greedy lungs to finally suck in air as she takes a step back in an attempt to even out her respiration.  

He doesn’t say anything for a moment— silently observing her while she clears her throat and swallows a few times, trying to pacify her racing heart and the thoughts running around her brain.

Then, she blinks up at him, noticing how he smells like her honey-scented body wash and orange blossom shampoo— nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to her imagination as the room grows quiet.  

Once she feels the flat floorboards under her wobbly feet again, she tries a different approach; a nervous hesitation overlaying her creaky question. “What’s, um…what’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses her. However, when a small pout begins to mold her mouth the longer she stares at him, he lets out a discontented huff.  

“Rafe,” he finally responds, not bothering to ask for hers, seemingly not caring enough for it. She tells him, nonetheless, and he can’t help but laugh at her priorities— a literal criminal has broken into her home and she cares about fucking introductions.  

“So…have you— have you killed anyone else?”

She doesn’t know why she’s trying to make small talk with him but she figures that if she gets him to talk about something else, choking her to death won’t be at the forefront of his mind anymore.  

“You seriously wanna know?” he raises his brows. 

She thinks about it for a moment and then settles on a shake of her head, followed by a harsh chuckle rumbling from his chest.  

“So, uh— what do you do? Like besides…killing people and stuff?” she tries once more.  

“Listen, the less you know, the better, alright?” he states, causing her to let out a soft sigh in defeat when all of a sudden, thunder crackles behind her windows, an ablaze lightning illuminating her dimly lit bedroom soon after.  

She flinches at the sound and the nearly sinister way it momentarily lights up his face.  

“You scared of a little storm?” he feigns concern as he peers down at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, yeah?” the mocking grin plastered on his face causes a shudder to travel through her as she swallows—wishing this was all just a really bad nightmare.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

After the little incident, Rafe thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, offering to make him tea and asking if he wants a blanket or an extra pillow so he’d be more comfortable sleeping on the couch. 

And he can tell that she’s merely doing it because she’s terrified of him, which she should be. Nonetheless, he thinks it feels nice to be pampered and doted on— to have a pretty girl following his orders like a trained puppy. It makes him figure he’s gonna enjoy his stay just fine.  

The following morning though, he’s woken up by her shaky figure standing next to him— pointing his gun at him. 

He lets out a sigh, softened bones mellow from sleep while he rubs at his eyes and shifts to a seated position on the couch— teasingly lifting his hands up in surrender. “Puppy’s got a gun, huh? Tryin’ to be all tough now, are we?”

“I— I want you to leave,” she says, voice rickety and words unsure.  

And he’s trying to take her seriously, he really is, but it’s proving to be rather difficult when she resembles a scared little kitten more than someone who knows what they’re doing.  

“You want me to leave? Maybe you should, uh, work on your pitch a little more? M’not very convinced,” the lazy smile tugging at his mouth makes her brows crease.  

“Rafe, this is not a joke,” a scowl shades her face.

He thinks she looks rather adorable. “Come on, pup, you’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t even know how to use that thing, do you?” his voice is even, and it makes her hesitate.

“Well…it can’t be that complicated?” it’s more of a question than a statement and he lets out a humored chuckle in response. Her frown deepens.  

“Why don’t you give that to me, yeah? You don’t want death on your conscience, would break ya, you’re too soft for that shit.”  

“You don’t know me.” 

“Know you enough,” he says, finally standing on his feet, taking a slow step towards her, making her squeeze the weapon tighter in her trembling fingers.  

“If— if I give it to you…you’re gonna— you’re gonna kill me and I don’t wanna die,” her words are rushed, hysterical. 

His brows furrow. “Who said anythin’ about killin’ you? Listen, if you give me the gun right now, m’not gonna do anythin’. You have my word, okay?” he towers over her, solid chest grazing the barrel.  

“I don’t trust you,” her voice is a whisper.  

“I know, pup…but I also know that you’re not gonna use that,” his steady hands are a stark contrast to her own when he grabs for the firearm, slipping it from her weak fingers with ease.  

“There we go, no need to be so, uh, so fuckin’ theatrical, yeah?” he lowers his face in order to lock eyes with her. “See? Not hurtin’ you, am I?”  

She manages out a hum of agreement, and then her waterline is brimming with salty droplets as she chokes out a sob. “M’sorry. I don’t—”  

“Hey, hey s’all good. Mistakes happen, yeah?” he says before his strong arms are wrapping around her trembling form because he’s not a complete monster, and for some reason it only makes her weep harder. 

Her crocodile tears wet his shirt while his big paws rub against her back, but he doesn’t seem to mind. And she thinks it’s almost…comforting when he starts to sway her from side to side, like he’s trying to calm down a crying child. 

“There you go, just, uh, let it all out ‘n maybe you can chill out a bit, yeah? You pogues can be so fuckin’ dramatic sometimes,” he pats at her back, rolling his eyes as she takes in shaky inhale after shaky inhale until she’s feeling slightly more placid.  

“Shit, if I’d known you were such a fuckin’ crybaby I would’ve picked another house,” he grumbles, pulling away from her weakened form before pushing her back to stumble on her feet— setting the gun back onto the coffee table with a clank.

[imaginedisish]

All I Need (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: AHH! This took so, so long. Anyway, here is the period-comfort fic! Needed this. Loosely inspired by "All I Need" By Radiohead and "Let the Light In" by Lana and Father John Misty. Hope you guys enjoy! P.S. I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you, or if the tags don't work.

Summary: Your period is awful this month, but Logan is there to take care of you...in more ways than one...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!! SMUT!!! Fingering, PIV, period sex, soft!Logan, praise kink (if you squint), friends to lovers, softdom!Logan (if you squint again), mentions of blood (bc period), so much fluff, feelings, cursing, afab!reader/fem!reader, definitely some grammatical errors bc I struggled through proofreading...and I think that's it!

Word Count: 4,474 it was supposed to be short

You’re no stranger to pain. You’ve been in countless battles and fought more fights than you can remember. And yet, nothing makes you feel as obliterated as your period does. 

Your cramps have always been terrible, but this time they were particularly bad. You sit in your bed, on a Saturday night, alone, struggling. You couldn’t find the heating pad. You couldn’t find the ice cream you wanted. You couldn’t find anything to watch. And, of course, everything hurts—your breasts are beyond sore, and your head is aching. You look up at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than for your period to be over. 

Your lower abdomen pulses with pain and you groan audibly, not caring how loud you are as you turn over onto your stomach in frustration. 

But then there’s a knock at your door.  

“Hey, everything okay in there?” It’s Logan—of course it’s him. “Didn’t mean to be nosy. Just happened to hear you.”

“I’m okay!” You call out, rolling back onto your side to face the door. 

“Are you sure?” Logan asks. You can hear his hand on the knob. “Can I come in?”

Heat suddenly rises to your chest. Logan? Coming in here? Now? In reality, this shouldn’t be a big deal. Logan has been in your room before—albeit very briefly and in passing—but you can’t help but feel nervous. You’re always nervous around him. You’ve been harboring a crush on him for months now, and it’s brutal. You’ve grown closer, but not quite close enough. At least not in the way you want.

You swallow nervously. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice almost cracking. “You can come in.” 

Logan immediately twists the knob and pushes the door open, stepping inside your room. You can’t help but smile at the sight of his familiar beater and blue jeans. He takes another step and closes the door behind him—he’s just a few feet away from you, his arms crossed over his chest.

He smirks, tilting his head down. “It’s Saturday night, and this is what you’re doing?” He steps towards you, approaching the bed and sitting down. 

“Not feeling great,” you admit, wincing as you sit up in bed. 

Logan’s brows immediately furrow with concern. His hand comes up to rest on your knee, and you have to stop yourself from shuddering under his touch. “Are you okay?” He asks, his thumb drawing gentle circles into your skin. He sniffs once, and you know he can smell the blood between your thighs. “Do you need anything?” 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” you say, trying to politely brush off his concern. You don’t want to trouble him, don’t want to hold him back from his Saturday night plans. But Logan’s brows are still furrowed, concern painted clearly across his face. “Really, I’m okay,” you reassure, but he doesn’t budge. 

“I know you’re not okay,” he says, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Let me help you, yeah?”

“I’d feel bad. I’d be holding you back from whatever plans you—”

“No plans, princess,” Logan says, cutting you off. You try to hide the way your breath hitches in your throat at the familiar nickname. “Just you. Whatever you need.” He smiles widely, his thumb still drawing circles into your knee. 

It’s so soft, so delicate, so unlike the way Logan is with others. There’s something domestic about this, something especially comforting and gentle. He’s sacrificing his Saturday night for you—to make sure you’re okay. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the thought. 

“Is it bad?” He asks, his voice low and calm. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you almost don’t notice the way Logan inches closer; don’t notice the way his hand slides down to your lower stomach. The warmth of his hand feels so good that you have to stifle a moan at the sudden contact.  

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, leaning into his touch. His hand presses firmly into your stomach, rubbing gently. “But your hand feels nice,” you admit, your voice a bit shaky as the words fall from your lips. 

He’s next to you now, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hips in line with yours. His touch, his presence—it’s all simultaneously relaxing and exhilarating. You’ve never had him this close, never felt him touch you like this. Your heart beats out of your chest as his palm pushes against your aching lower abdomen. He’s in tune with you, registering every movement you make, every half-moan you can’t seem to suppress as his hand soothingly rubs your stomach. 

You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want me to get you anything?” He asks, smiling widely. Your mind immediately goes to the lack of ice cream in the freezer, but you’re hesitant to ask. Getting you something would entail leaving. And the last thing you want is for Logan to leave. 

“I’m okay,” you answer, but you know your voice comes out as unsure. 

He arches a brow, his caring smile turning into a knowing smirk. “You sure about that, princess?” He nods his head towards the door. “I saw you all disappointed after lookin’ in the freezer, earlier.”

You can’t help the grin that forms on your face at Logan’s words. He noticed you. “There wasn’t any ice cream left,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. 

Logan chuckles and stands up, his palm slipping away from your stomach. You want to reach out, to yank him down and force his hand back where it was. “I’ll be right back,” he says, walking towards the door. “Don’t move an inch. I mean it!” He keeps his eyes on you as he backs out of the room, opening the door and closing it carefully behind him. 

Not even a minute later, Logan comes back with a silver spoon and a pint of your favorite ice cream. “No way,” you mutter, shaking your head, your smile spreading across your face. “How did you know?”

Logan smirks. “I just do,” he answers, sitting back in his place next to you on the edge of the bed. He passes you the silver spoon and the pint. “Knew that’s what you were looking for. Went out to the store to grab it the second you walked out of the kitchen empty-handed.”

“You’re amazing,” you whisper, still in awe of how he got you the ice cream without asking. He simply noticed. He remembered your favorite flavor—you never had to tell him a thing. He just knew. 

You open the packaging and dig into the ice cream, wrapping your lips around the spoon. “Oh sorry,” you mumble, your mouth full of ice cream as you pull the spoon from your lips. “Do you want some?”

You dig the spoon back into the ice cream and scoop out a big serving, pointing the spoon in Logan’s direction. He smirks before opening his mouth, waiting for you to feed him. Your breath catches in your throat as you hold the spoon up to him. His lips wrap around the ice cream, and he takes the spoon from your hand, his fingertips brushing against yours. 

He sucks and pulls the spoon from his mouth. You swallow harshly at the sight, watching as he digs into the pint and takes another scoop of ice cream, this time bringing the spoon to your lips. You open your mouth, inviting him inside, closing it around the cold ice cream. You silently wish you could taste him on the spoon. 

You grab the spoon from his hands, his fingers lingering before pulling away—like he’d do anything to touch you again, to savor the feeling of your skin against his. 

“Thank you, Logan,” you say, taking another scoop of ice cream and shoving the spoon past your lips. “Really, it means a lot.”

Logan shakes his head, his hand finding that spot on your stomach again. “It was nothing,” he mutters. “I’d do anything for you.” He soothingly rubs side to side, the warmth of his palm enveloping your lower abdomen. “Is there anything else you wanted?” He asks, nodding his head towards the T.V. on the other side of your room. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” you say back, reaching for the remote on your nightstand. You flick the T.V. on and look over at Logan. “W-would you wanna stay?” You ask, nodding your head to the other side of the bed. 

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, princess,” he husks, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed. He settles in next to you, lying down on the mattress. You’re shoulder to shoulder, and his hand quickly finds your lower abdomen again. 

You scroll through the movies on various streaming services, and nothing seems to click until you find an old, campy B-movie from the 80s. You turn to face Logan, grinning widely, pointing the remote to the television. He rolls his eyes playfully as he reads the description. “Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

Your heart stops at the epithet. Pretty girl? Princess, sure—you’re familiar with Logan’s classic princess nickname. But pretty girl was entirely new. Different. Certainly not friendly. Princess was teasing, tongue and cheek—a way to mess with you, to slip under your skin and rile you up. Flirty? Perhaps. But not inherently romantic. Pretty girl? 

Pretty girl seems like…more. 

You decide to take a chance, letting your head rest on Logan’s shoulder as you press play on the movie. You spoon ice cream into your mouth, waiting for Logan’s next move. After a few seconds, he sits up. His shoulder separates from yours, and his arm reaches around your shoulders instead, tugging you into his chest. 

“This okay?” He asks, his lips brushing against the side of your head, pressing what feels like the ghost of a kiss to your temple.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “It’s perfect.” You can hear Logan’s heart beating in his chest. It’s loud and fast. His fingertips draw circles into your shoulder as he pulls you closer. 

The movie starts, but you can’t seem to concentrate. You nervously shovel scoop after scoop of ice cream into your mouth, hoping to take your mind off Logan, but it obviously doesn’t work. Not with the way his arms are wrapped around you—one draped around your shoulder while his other hand is tucked in its place against your lower stomach. 

You somehow finish the entire pint, and Logan notices immediately, taking the container from your hands and placing it on the nightstand next to him. His hand is back, soothingly rubbing your abdomen, within the blink of an eye. He’s endlessly attentive, listening carefully to every breath you take, watching every wrinkle in your forehead crease and every wince you make when a bad cramp comes on. 

A sudden, sharp pain builds in your abdomen, and you squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your teeth as the pain worsens. You take a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth.

“Hey,” Logan coos, pressing his hand a bit harder into your belly. “Is it getting bad?” He asks softly, holding you tighter. 

You swallow harshly, taking another deep breath. “Yeah, it hurts right now,” you choke, wincing as you let yourself lean completely into him. 

Logan pulls you into his lap, one arm draping across the front of your chest while his hand slips underneath the waistband of your athletic shorts. He stops just above your panties. “Is this okay?” He asks, his warm palm messaging your stomach. 

The pressure is so nice, and the heat from his palm is delicious. “Yes,” you groan, your legs intertwining with his. You squirm a bit in his lap, trying to get comfortable. “You’re so warm,” you whisper, turning on your side, still situated between his legs, your head on his chest. “F-feels good.”

Logan presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His arm slides up and down your body before settling on your waist. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“I-I don’t know,” you admit, pressing your face into the center of his chest. All you can smell is him—pine and musk and denim and leather. It’s perfect, dizzying, distracting. Just need you, you think to yourself. 

“Need me, pretty girl?” Logan asks. You lift your head up, furrowing your brows as you realize you let that thought find its way to your lips and out of your mouth. “I’m right here.” 

His face is just inches away from yours. His breath fans across your nose, your cheeks. His lips are close, too—just a bit closer and you’d be kissing. “L-Lo,” you stutter. “I…” You trail off, unable to form a coherent thought. You can feel the tension in the air, feel the heat building between your thighs. Fuck, you want him. Need him. 

His throat bobs as he swallows. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” Logan murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. 

“W-want you,” you admit, your voice shaky. 

“Want you too, darlin’,” he says, his fingertips playing with the waistband of your panties. “Let me take care of you,” he husks. “Let me take the pain away.” And you want him too—more than anything. 

“Please,” you beg as his hand slips under the hem of your panties. You flip the T.V. off and throw the remote to the floor.

His lips finally press against yours, slow and languid. His fingertips find your clit, drawing tight, quick circles around the bud. “I’ll tease you next time, pretty girl,” Logan whispers at the shell of your ear. But all you register is next time. There’s going to be a next time. “Just wanna make you feel good right now.”

“F-fuck,” you moan, your hips rocking against his hand. He swirls around your clit, pinching gently between his strokes. 

Logan’s free hand comes down to your thighs, gripping your flesh tightly and spreading your legs wider. “That feel good, princess?” He rasps, stroking faster. 

Your head falls back to his shoulder. “Yes, so good,” you whimper. His lips find your neck, kissing your pulse point and sucking softly. His hand slides back up your body, slipping underneath your shirt, trailing over your stomach. 

His fingertips climb tentatively towards your chest. You remember you aren’t wearing a bra as Logan’s fingers brush against the underside of your breasts. “Please,” you beg, arching your back into his touch.

Logan presses another kiss to your neck as his hand palms your breasts, massaging gently, alternating between one side and the other. He hikes up your tank top, giving himself better access to all of you. His fingers continue their tight circles on your clit, swirling around, releasing that pressure at the bottom of your stomach. Your walls clench down around nothing as he presses harder into your core. 

“Thought about this for so long,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Thought about touching you, fucking you. Wanted you this whole time, sweetheart.”

“Logan,” you moan, bringing your lips to his. “I wanted you too,” you confess. You can feel yourself hitting your peak, ready to fall apart. “I’m c-close.”

“I know, darlin’,” Logan soothes, his fingers quickening. “I’ve got you.” His lips melt against yours, fitting together like magnets, like you were always meant to find each other. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip. “Wanna make you come, wanna watch you let go.” 

It all happens so fast—your orgasm crashes into you, and Logan swallows your moans with another kiss. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, still stroking your clit. Your walls flutter as pleasure courses through your every nerve ending. His strokes slow down until his fingers rest, unmoving, on your clit. Logan’s hands still palm your breasts, messaging the tender flesh gently. “You okay?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah, p-perfect,” you stutter, curling into his chest. “Felt so good.” 

Logan presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Relax darlin’,” he husks, taking a deep breath. 

“Lo?” You whisper, looking up at him, his eyes immediately finding yours. “Do you really want me?” You ask, suddenly embarrassed to be saying anything at all, and yet you find yourself rambling. “When you were saying all that when we were—” 

But his lips are on yours again, hungry and desperate. He pulls away like he doesn’t want to—like it hurts to be away from you for even the briefest second. “I want you, pretty girl,” he says, pulling you back into his chest. “You’re all I think about…” He trails off, his voice less stable than it was just seconds ago. “You’re all I need.” 

“Logan,” you say, smiling widely. “I’ve wanted you for months. I didn’t know you felt the same way.” 

You can feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest. “How could I ever want someone else?” He asks. There’s levity in his voice, but you know he’s being serious. “You’re it. You make me think that…” he pauses, and you look up from his chest. “You make me think that there’s some purpose to all this.” He meets your gaze, and you can see the sudden shift in his expression. His eyes are glossed over. He works his jaw. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. For love. For you.” 

You know that Logan has had everything taken from him, time and time again. He’s an undeniably selfless person, the type of person who would let the world destroy him to protect those he loves—and he has—it’s happened. But he’s still here, and now he’s here with you. He deserves happiness. He deserves love. And the thought that he finally feels those things with you is too much to bear. You try to smile, but you can’t help the tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper. “So much.” 

“I love you too, beautiful.” 

His lips are on yours again, melding, coming together, building something unbreakable. You straddle him, his hands finding your hips. He squeezes firmly, keeping you in place on top of him. His tongue swipes your lower lip, asking permission to slip inside, and you happily oblige. You want Logan, all of him, now. Forever. 

“Always gonna want you, just you,” he mumbles against your lips. “So fucking beautiful. Never wanted anyone like this.” His hands guide your hips to roll over his. Your core drags along his erection—large and straining against his jeans. 

“Want you so bad,” you whine, grinding down onto him. But then you remember the reason Logan is here in the first place. “B-but I’m on my—”

Logan rocks his hips against yours, ignoring you. “As long as you want this pretty girl, I want this. Don’t care about that.”

Fuck.

You nod, your lips pressing to his. He swallows your whines, his tongue brushing against yours, his teeth grazing your lower lip. His hands slide up and down your back, your tank top still hiked up over your breasts. Logan’s nails trail across your skin, drawing along your curves, taking in every inch of you. 

You bring your hands down his chest, finding the hem of his beater. You tug it up his body, revealing his skin. “You want this off?” He asks, smiling against your lips. You nod, and he breaks contact for just a split second, tugging his shirt up and over his head. 

He’s so beautiful, his abs, the thick, dark hair scrawling across his chest. You bite your lip at the sight. “You’re perfect,” you mutter, letting your hands feel his exposed skin, searching him, growing familiar with his every curve.

He smirks, his hands finding your hips again, squeezing tightly. “That’s all you, princess,” he rasps, shaking his head. “Beautiful girl.” 

You grind your hips against his again, and he presses his forehead to yours. “Need you, Lo.” His arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your fingertips find his belt, fumbling with the buckle until you get it undone, and sliding the leather out of the loops of his jeans. You toss it to the floor and quickly work at his button and zipper. 

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Logan chides, grabbing your wrists with one of his massive hands. “Let’s take it easy, yeah?”

You can’t help but pout. “But I want you so bad,” you whine, grinding down onto him. Logan groans, his hips bucking up into yours. He brings his hands to the hem of his jeans and tugs them down. You take the opportunity to grab a condom from the drawer of the nightstand next to you. 

When you look back, Logan’s erection is free from his jeans. He’s massive, so much bigger than you ever imagined. You swallow harshly, handing him the condom with shaky hands. He smirks, opening the little package and rolling the condom over his cock. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he husks. “Gonna take it slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, and then his hands are on your hips again, flipping you onto your back so that he’s hovering over you. He quickly finds the hem of your shorts, and you lift your hips up a little, helping him tug them, along with your panties, down your legs. He places them at the end of the bed and lowers back down over you. 

He balances on his forearm as his free hand guides his cock to your folds, sliding through you, nudging against your clit. “You have no idea how much I need you,” Logan whispers, his tip teasing your entrance. “No idea how much I love you.” 

He shoves himself deep inside you with one thrust, bottoming out, down to the hilt. “Fuck,” he curses, his cock filling you up, stretching you out, giving you a chance to adjust to the sheer size of him. “You feel so good,” he praises. “Knew you’d feel perfect. Fucking made for me.”

He finally pulls out only to thrust back in, somehow deeper this time. “Logan,” you moan, your nails digging into his muscular back. “S-so big, so good,” you breathe, stumbling over your words. 

“Love it when you say my name, pretty girl,” Logan pants, slipping out and pumping back in, setting a slow, languid pace. His free hand reaches between your bodies, his fingertips finding your clit with ease. He draws those familiar, tight, rapid little circles into your bud. 

You curse under your breath as he splits you open, his pace growing faster every few thrusts or so. He’s holding back, and you can see it in his face—his eyes all dark as he works his jaw, feigning patience. You know he wants more—to take all of you and make you his. 

“Logan, y-you don’t have to…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed as he hits that sweet spot deep inside you. 

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says, demand in his voice. Your eyes flutter back open. “What do you need?” He asks, softer now, attentive as ever.  

His fingers swirl against your clit, adding more pressure with every careful stroke, making it near impossible for you to form a coherent thought. “Y-you don’t have to hold back,” you stammer as he sinks into you. “I-I can take it.”

He presses a kiss to your lips as he pumps in and out. “Just wanna take care of you this time, beautiful.” He pinches your clit lightly before stroking again. “Next time I’ll take you how I want.” There it is again. Next time. 

His hips snap against yours, his fingers working dexterously at your clit. It’s all too much, the way he bites your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing your pulse point, whispering praises against the shell of your ear. Taking me so well. Doing so good for me, darlin’. So fucking beautiful. Such a good girl. 

His cock drags along your walls, and you clench down around him. He twitches inside you as he buries himself deeper, hitting that sweet spot again and again. “Logan,” you whine, your eyes struggling to stay open. “I’m so close.” Logan’s cock throbs as the words fall from your lips. 

“F-fuck,” he stutters, his composure slipping. “I know, princess. Me too.” His hips rock into yours, his pace growing faster with every hit. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna get there with you.” 

You arch your back, your chest pushing flush against his. “Yes,” you moan as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers firmly circling your clit. It’s too much—you know you’re coming undone, unraveling underneath him. Your walls clench down around him again. 

“That’s it, beautiful,” Logan soothes. “Come with me.”

The tension snaps, splitting in two. It’s uncontrollable, a raging fire, blinding heat. You let go, melting into the mattress, your orgasm wracking through your body. Logan twitches inside you, and you know he’s coming too. You’re trembling underneath him, legs shaking as his thrusts slow down. With one more slow pump, Logan stills inside you. His fingers stroke your clit lightly, working you through your high, bringing you back down to Earth. 

After a few seconds, his fingers slip away, and he pulls out of your cunt. You can’t help but feel empty now that he’s gone, already craving more of him. He sits up on his knees and climbs off the bed, taking the condom from his cock and tossing it into the garbage. He grabs his boxers from off the floor and tugs them on. 

Before you can beg him to come back, he’s crawling onto the bed. He grabs your panties and your shorts, dragging them up your legs, making sure everything is back in its right place. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asks, tugging you into his chest. “You need anything? New pad? Water?”

“I’m okay,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Just need you.”

You can feel him smiling against the crown of your head. “You have me, beautiful.” He whispers. “Always gonna have me.” He tugs the sheets and the comforter over your bodies, the warmth of him and your bed dragging you under the current of sleep. 

You wake up a few hours later. Logan is still there, next to you, his arms holding you tightly to his chest. 

“Lo,” you whisper into the darkness of your room.

“I’m here.” His voice is cloudy, tired, filled with sleep. “Never gonna be anywhere but here.” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Go back to sleep.”

“I love you,” you say, because you can, because you mean it.

You can hear the sleepy smile in his voice. “I love you too.”

tags: @banlaineslawyer @gothgoblinbabe @alsoprettyinpink @librababe99 @ponygyatt @yoursrosie @itdobe-foggy @gplol @healmydesires @qardasngan @princessterek @alastorssimp @yawnetu @chronicallybubbly @corvid007 @muffin-berry @emmdog2999 @kieekto @creepsbeware @starrdustss @evasmlp @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @silversprings-mp3 @prettyseaveins @derbygracie @pedrohoe04 @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @movhoney @honeyfwr @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @cosmiccandydreamer

[cosmicalily]

'real love baby' with stray kids, ot8 headcanons by @cosmicalily

author's note: i absolutely adore this song by father john misty; i think it's the sweetest love song and just so prettily written. i wanted to do headcanons kind of similar to my 'everything is romantic' ones, where instead of just going off typical love languages and tropes (which are beautiful in their own way!), i kind of make up my own and unique scenarios for each! hope you enjoy! warnings: angst in hyunjin's, jisung's, and seungmin's (reasonably mild)

Chris, who loves you adoringly.

It was quiet in your apartment when you got home, although you knew that Chris would most definitely not be asleep. However, you walked through slowly and silently, just in case he was doing something important. Suddenly, you walked into a firm, black tank-top clad chest and squealed. A bouquet of roses dropped to the floor, petals falling everywhere. “I’m sorry, I was trying to be sneaky,” You sighed, shifting your sock across the petals. “Were these for me?” “No, they were for Han Jisung,” Chris deadpanned, then burst out giggling. “Of course they were. Although they’re a bit fucked up now. Sorry, baby.” You smiled at him. “That’s okay. What was the occasion, anyway? It’s not anywhere near our anniversary or my birthday or anything.” “Nothing. Just wanted to remind you that you’re a cute girl who deserves cute stuff like this, and that I love you.”

Minho, who loves you quietly.

When you come home from a girls’ night out, Minho doesn’t like to immediately approach you at the door. Instead, he stays where he is, sitting upright in bed, phone on his bedside table. He watches you as you undo your hair, take off your dress and put on your pyjamas. He watches you in the bathroom mirror, wiping off your makeup and washing your face. When you’re done, you come to him in bed, and it’s then that he pulls you onto his lap, slipping his hands around your waist and kissing you softly. It’s the moments like this that the two of you crave, the little pockets of quiet amongst your chaotic lives. And that’s where you’ll stay, cosy against each other, minimal words exchanged. Because he can’t ever find any that fully expresses the warmth he feels for you, the love in his eyes as he observes you simply existing. “Hold me,” is all he mumbles, and that’s exactly what you do.

Changbin, who loves you loudly.

“Doesn't my girlfriend look beautiful today?” Changbin asks, gesturing towards you. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard this exact question seven times now, said to each of the boys, and you’re not even that dressed up. However, to Changbin, in a simple pink sweater and loose jeans, you’re the equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret Angel, wings, halo and all.  “This feels like a trick question. If I say yes, you’re gonna punch me. If I say no, you’ll do the same,” Chris sighs, but offers you a smile. “I like the sweater.” “Thanks,” you reply, lightly shoving your boyfriend. “Changbin, sweetheart, that’s enough. Talk to them about other things. It’s boring otherwise.” “You’re not boring! You’re all I ever want to talk about,” he pouts, and you giggle.

Hyunjin, who loves you intensely.

Sometimes Hyunjin feels like he’s too much for you. At times, in between his dramatic statements, sweet pieces of poetry and watercolour paintings, he feels a tiny bit of fear. Fear that all his romantic gestures simply overwhelm you. When he gets himself into this fragile headspace, it’s you that returns his passionate love, reminding him that it’s the reason you fell for him in the first place. Carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, you confront your boyfriend, who is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He’s been quiet today. “Flowers for you, pretty boy,” you declare, thrusting the bouquet into his arms. “I also sent you the link to a playlist of songs I want to play at our wedding, and there’s wine in the kitchen.” “Baby…when I do things like this for you, it’s not too much, is it? I’m not too much for you?” he asks, placing the flowers on the floor and reaching for your waist. “Never. You could never be, Hyune.”

Jisung, who loves you softly. 

You’d been best friends with Jisung since the beginning of high school, and dating since the end. He was your other half, someone who’d been with you since the start and who you knew would stay until the end. You were both fragile at times; him with his anxiety and you with your melancholia. There were days that were tough, times where you both needed endless support and validation just to make it to the end. Today, you lay in the bath, your body numb, head hurting. You weren’t in a good headspace, and Jisung knew this when he approached you gently. “Do you want me to rub your shoulders, baby?” he’d asked softly, running the pad of his thumb across your eyes where the tears brimmed. “Yes please,” you’d mumbled in response, and he kissed the tip of your nose.

Felix, who loves you warmly.

Felix would see the two of you in everything, from an old couple drinking tea to a pair of marshmallow keychains. He loved you more than he thought was possible, in ways that made his heart feel fit to bursting. It brought him a rush of excitement and joy, something he carried with him throughout the day. His favourite time with you was the mornings; the sunlight from the open window pouring into the room, casting a yellow glow. You always woke up before him, leg thrust across his, forehead pressed against his neck, pressing soft kisses to the warm skin. “Morning, sweet girl,” he’d murmur, voice groggy. “Did you sleep well?” “Dreamt of you,” you’d reply chirpily, and he’d giggle. He hoisted your body off his, laying you on your back. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hands travelled to your waist, before he tickled the soft skin.

Seungmin, who loves you unconditionally.

It had not been an easy day for you. On top of your hormones, a full day at work and having not seen your boyfriend for a week while he’d been filming overseas, you’d just remembered you had an assignment due that evening at midnight. When Seungmin came through the door, eyes bright and smile wide, excited to see you, you threw yourself at him, bursting into tears. He pulled you in close and tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. He didn’t know what had happened, whether you were upset or angry or stressed, but he held you, because he didn’t mind. Your body relaxed against his a little, and you pulled away, eyes puffy. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m such a mess.” “Don’t be,” he replied honestly, and kissed your cheek softly. “You breathed today. That’s enough to be proud of.”

Jeongin, who loves you sweetly. 

You and Jeongin’s love for fashion was what had sparked your relationship in the first place; you’d met him on Depop of all places, purchasing a leather jacket he didn’t wear enough. He’d asked for your Instagram so he could see pictures of you in ‘his baby’, and as a result, your crush had blossomed. Now, he didn’t have to sell you his clothes; they were in his wardrobe, free for you to grab whenever he wanted. And he encouraged it, because he loved seeing you in them. He’d also often buy pieces for you that he thought you’d like. “I found this skirt in the vintage shop down the road,” he’d said, pulling out a plaid miniskirt. “It’s like the one I saw saved on your Pinterest board.” “Baby, that is the one saved on my Pinterest board,” you’d gasped, staring at the skirt in shock. “It’s also Vivienne Westwood. I don’t even want to know how much it cost you.” “Then I won’t tell you,” he replied plainly, smiling. “Go try it on. You’ll look adorable.”

[pastryfication]

Can you please do one with shy!reader x Oscar? Reader has chronic pain, but hates asking for help with things, especially simple things (showering, eating, changing, etc)

Ignore if you're not comfortable with this request ❤️

hi thank you so much for the request! i hope it reaches your expectations 🫶🫶

chronic pain | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader

warnings: mentions of chronic pain.

the bathroom was warm and misty, the scent of your favourite body wash mingling with the steam rising from the hot shower. you had managed to get undressed and into the shower on your own, a small triumph on a day where the pain was especially relentless.

as you stood under the shower head, the water cascaded over your shoulders, providing a fleeting sense of relief. you leaned against the wall, trying to muster the strength to continue. the stabbing pain in your back wasn’t about to ruin your day once again, you were adamant about that, but your legs felt like jelly, and your hands started to tremble with fatigue.

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. in an attempt to reach for the soap, your grip faltered, and it slipped from your fingers, hitting the tiled floor with a loud clatter. panic surged through you as you realized you couldn't bend down to retrieve it. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make yourself bend down to pick it up.

the sound of the soap hitting the floor must have echoed through the apartment, because moments later, you heard the soft knock on the bathroom door.

"baby? are you okay in there?" oscar’s voice was gentle, but concern laced his words. you hated that he had to worry about you, hated that you had to rely on him for help with the simplest things. but today, the pain was unbearable.

"i’m fine," you called back, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out weak and unconvincing. you hoped he wouldn't press further, but you knew oscar better than that.

the door creaked open, and through the steam, you saw his silhouette. he hesitated at the threshold, respecting your privacy but unwilling to leave you struggling. "are you sure? i think i heard something fall."

you sighed inaudible, feeling the weight of your pride and embarrassment. "i just . . . i dropped the soap. i can get it. just give me a minute."

oscar stepped closer, slowly moving aside the shower curtain to get a full view of you, and his gaze softened when he saw your strained expression. "love, it's okay to need help. let me."

his voice was soothing, filled with unwavering support, but you shook your head, stubbornness mingling with your discomfort. "oscar, i don't want to be a burden. i can do it."

he knelt beside the tub, his presence reassuring and calm as he gave you a gentle smile. "you could never be a burden to me, love. i'm happy to help, however you need."

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of frustration and gratitude. "i just feel so . . . useless sometimes."

oscar frowned at your words, his hand reaching out and gently taking your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "you're not useless. you're strong, and dealing with this pain every day takes so much courage. but even the strongest people need help sometimes. let me be here for you."

you hesitated, the vulnerability of accepting his help weighing heavily on you, but the sincerity in his eyes broke through your defences. slowly, you nodded, allowing him to assist you.

oscar carefully guided you to sit on the edge of the tub, then picked up the soap and lathered it between his hands. with tender care, he began washing your back, his touch light and comforting. you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for the first time that day.

as he helped you rinse off, his gentle words filled the space. "i'm always here for you. no matter what. so please, ask me for help next time?"

you hesitated for a moment before nodding, agreeing to his words. maybe asking him for help wasn’t the worst idea when the feeling of his tender touch against your skin was so comforting. maybe you could allow him to help a bit more if it meant sharing intimate moments like these.

[bunny-jpeg]

on top of the world

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, post-las vegas gp (2024), pregnancy/pregnant!reader, tender & gentle sex, established relationship,

a/n: congrats max for another wdc!

max wrapped you up in his arms and held you tightly. he kissed you on the side of the face with such love. such affection, there was a fire to his kiss, the after burn of a heated race. he came in fifth this weekend, but he was just that good that he managed to get enough points to secure his fourth world champion!

and when max pulled away with misty eyes. the thrill of the wdc never damped. he smiled brightly at you and said, "i won the wdc."

you swallowed and in the heat of the moment replied, "and i'm pregnant." you wished you could've taken the words back, but instead max just kissed you once more. your legs felt like jelly as you clung to him. wrapped up in one another, but max's grip loosened on you. after all, you were pregnant.

"you're pregnant." he said as his hands trailed up your sides once you were in the privacy of the hotel room. during every interview with what felt like every news network in the world. not only did he want to talk about his win, but the growth of your family.

you traced your hands down the front of his red bull branded t-shirt, "remember why we were so curious why jimmy, sassy and donatello were always hanging around me?"

he nodded as he undid the buttons of your blouse.

"the entire weekend i felt sick in brazil and we chalked it up to something not agreeing with me." there was another nod from your boyfriend, "and then when you put your face between my breasts and i always yelled because they were so tender? yeah... i'm pregnant."

he looked at your face and then your middle. he patted a hand across the soft flesh and licked his lips, "you're serious, right? no joke?"

you held his face in your hands and looked into his blue eyes, "max... maxie... my love. i took five of them. i'm pretty sure it's impossible for all five to be false positives... when i head back home i will get the blood work done."

he beamed at you and pulled you in for another heated kiss. soon you were pulling at the shoulders of his t-shirt. his hat was flicked off onto the floor and with a bit of help you were both soon completely nude on the bed.

he looked amazing, even post-race. he was well showered and out of his driving clothes. but, he still looked flustered from the heat of the race, and even though it was so late into the evening. you both couldn't sleep, not while your brains were running a mile a minute. he admired you, loved you as his hands spread across your form.

"you and i made a baby, huh?" he said as leaned down and kissed your stomach, how much it would change while you carried his child. his kisses continued to trail across your body and you felt a shiver of euphoria through your system as he got between your legs. his cock stood at full attention and he wanted to map out every inch of you skin. as much as possible. he wanted to feel the love of his life as much as he could, to worship your body.

"yes, that's what happened." you giggled as your combed your fingers through his dirty blond hair, "that's usually what happens when you have unprotected sex." you smiled then kissed him when he rose his head.

"i hope you know, i'm here for you and our baby, okay? i'm not walking out, no, never." he nodded earnestly, even though there was no doubt in your bed. it was sweet for him to confirm it for you. you pulled him into a searing kiss and got him onto his back with you on top of him. you spread your hands across his broad chest, you could feel his racing heartbeat.

you rubbed your hands up and down his chest as you pulled away. you looked down at him before you slowly sank on his cock. before he could say anything you replied, "we'll go soft. no need to get too worried there, mister verstappen." you moved your hips slowly against him and he tensed up for a moment at the feeling.

max knew you were going to be his wife, he was certain anyone at the team could see that. the way max held you and kissed you. the infamous maxplaining about you and your own accomplishments. while you weren't a superstar driver, he wanted everyone to know that you got your master's degree. he simply hadn't popped the question so your last name could on every degree you earn. but that might have to change a little prematurely with the news that you two were expecting a child. he groaned a little as he felt the circulation of pleasure through his body. the rise and fall of your hips as you made love to him.

both of you still running off the high of the race and of the victorious news. you moved a little faster, but he slowed you down. he panted, "i want to feel you, all of you." he swallowed back a heavy moan as he moved against you. he admired every curve of your body. you were his, all his. the two of you were going start a family. be a family. one thought crossed his mind, he'd need to go ring shopping.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

you continued to work his body slowly, feeling every each of one another. max's hands tickled you a little and your giggles made his pulse leap. you could feel the circulation of pleasure in your brain as you moved against him with such affection and love. you loved max, you loved him more than you could put into words. there were no words in any language that could describe your affection towards the man. your man.

your bodies moved together. but it wasn't fucking, it was making love. you were enjoying each other's bodies with heated want while you moved against him lovingly. you moaned a little louder when the pleasure started to creep up through your body. you leaned in to kiss him once more as you moved your hips. you braced yourself on his toned chest and moaned deep into the kiss. that seemed to excite max as he held onto you a bit tighter. not tight enough to bruise. but, enough to be protective over you. over his beloved woman.

when you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his and giggled, "soon we're going to have to find new ways to do this." then kissed him on the face.

"i'll take you anyway i can, my love. anyway you'll let me have you." he shuddered at the feeling of you. the two of you moved against one another during heated kisses and you could feel the pleasure spike in your body. when you broke the kiss, he said, "i won this all for you. but i think you upstaged me." he chuckled lightly, his cheeks dusted with pink, "i was going to come home with the world championship, but you were to come home with our child." he kissed you again, "i guess i'd rather be beaten by my wife than anyone else."

you felt a rise in you from his words, only to spur you on with slow but steadier movements. you raked your nails dwon his pale chest and whispered praise towards him. it wasn't erotic so much as intimate. how much you loved him, how much he meant to you. "when i see your eyes, i feel the future, max. and not just trophies and fast cars. i see a home, a life, a family." and he shuddered at your words. you knew how to make him feel so comfortable, safe and sound.

you marginally picked up speed and knew you weren't going to last much longer. you kissed him deeply as you rode him perfectly. your pussy fit perfectly, and he loved the feeling of you around him. cunt around his cock, hands on his chest,t he weight of you on his hips as you moved against him. everything oozed with perfection and made his heart stammer.

the two of you continued, the kisses only furthered. you held onto him tightly and with a few more movements of your hips. you clamped down around him and came. you moaned deeply into the kiss and let the pleasure wash over you.

max felt a similar feeling and while you rose through your orgasm. he finished inside of you as well. mindful not to be too rough with you. you two kissed more as you felt up his chest and he felt up your hips. you stayed seated on his cock for a few moments while you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on you.

but a night of euphoric highs led to emotional crashes that left you sleepy. soon you got yourself off of him and laid next to him on the king sized bed. you were panting heavily. max was playing with your left hand, especially your ring finger.

you smacked him on the chest with that hand while you laid out on the bed, "and no, max. we're not getting married in vegas." then looked at him, "we'll do it right... plus i'm certain your sister and my sister would kill you."

max just beamed and pulled you into a tight cuddle, "fair, fair, mrs. verstappen."

-

you told very few people about the pregnancy, especially not the press. people did notice the slow down of photos of you on max's social medias as you got further along.

one fan wrote online, "maybe they broke up?"

another said, "he better not embarrassed with her now or something stupid like that!"

you found the comments endearing while you were in your home in monaco, the cats still gravitated towards you. with the newest of the bunch always finding their way around your swollen middle. max did take photos of you, every chance he could. but, those were for his private collection as the following season started to wind up. while you would've loved to be there, the swell in your middle was only getting more obvious.

"you better facetime me." your lover wagged his finger at you.

"not if jimmy lies on top of my phone and i lose it for an hour." you giggled before you kissed max on the mouth. it was hard to see him go, especially when any updates about your child with him were over text and calls. it was hard.

he would eventually post a photo after a mysterious absence from social media around the summer break, "going to win a fifth world champion for you the way i won the previous four for your mama." and that answered every questions fans had. the photo was max holding his son with the stupidest grin on his face.

and by the end of the 2025 season, he had secured a fifth victory. for you, for him and for the son you both loved dearly <3

[tbaluver]

Hi !! can I ask for headcanons on how LaDs boys like to leave marks (hickeys, bites, etc.)?

And btw your writing is amazing!(╯✧▽✧)╯

Where They Like To Leave Marks- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: suggestive content MDNI a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) ! i might make a smut out of each individual one when i have the time since this felt too short or ill make a part 2 of this if more ideas pop up (•̀ᴗ•́ )و i hope this was okay and you enjoy anonnie ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Inner Thigh and Stomach. After playing his misty invasion card, I genuinely think he'd leave some marks on your inner thigh. He loves to tease you and hear you whine for a bit because he's so so close to your cunt. He'll take his time leaving some on your stomach as he trails down wet kisses. He would lick, suck, caress and please you until you're begging him for more.

Hips. He spends an excruciating amount of time placing slow and sensual kisses down the length of your torso before making his way towards your hips. Takes his time on each hip by placing one mark to another while exploring the rest of your body with his hands. The built up anticipation and pleasure leaves you lose in a trance and breathless.

Zayne:

Chest. You ride this man a lot so he absolutely loves sucking on your nipples until they're sensitive and swollen. He'll start in between your breast and then make his way to each nipple, making sure they're red and marked up by the time he's done on each one. He's just fascinated by how soft they feel in his mouth and the way you moan while you grind on him makes him so weak.

Neck. He tries not to leave any on there but he can't help it. At first he'll bite down gently before he sucks it, usually leaving small marks. The gasps he draws out of you are music to his ears. But he gets carried away when you're on top of him so he leaves your neck scattered with an assortment of bruised marks that are nearly impossible to conceal.

Rafayel:

Ass. He's obsessed with the shape of your ass and the outline of your cheeks. He remembers how you bounced on his cock and the red hand print on your ass makes him go feral. Sometimes it would be from how much he grips on it to make you go up and down on his cock.

Chest. He loves watching your tits bounce up and down as you ride him just like your ass. The fact that he gets to squeeze and suck them turns him on. He loves the way you moan as his tongue swirls on your buds, leaving scatted marks on your chest and around your tits.

Sylus:

Honestly he probably goes crazy with your body if you let him. You'd probably have one mark in each place his mouth visits. One sitting alone there's probably like 10 hickeys on you already.

Neck or ears. Loves whispering dirty things in your ear before sucking on your earlobe and leaving marks down your neck and shoulders.

Thighs. Mainly because it's more pleasurable for him and for you because it's closer to your pussy. Loves to see you squirm while he's under you. He'll leave hickeys exactly where he knows is the right spot that'll make you whine and whimper to eat you out.

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down

Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.

He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.

After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.

Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.

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

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.

But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.

Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.

[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.

Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.

A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.

(1:07) You saw me?  (1:09) From my apartment?  (1:10) Creepy

He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.

[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?

Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.

(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.

Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.

[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.

Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.

(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning

He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.

Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.

[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?

Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.

(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets

The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.

[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.

Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.

Part 2

[mariasont]

hiii! I read your last spencer one shot AND I LOVED IT! IT WAS SO SWEET AND YOU'RE SO TALENTED!! Would you write something about post prison reid and shy reader? I was thinking of her as the media liaison (in my mind she is old-fashioned in music and clothes I'd wear skirts everyday, her emotional intelligence makes her good at her job, despite her shyness). Maybe she's clumsy, especially when she gets nervous and more especially (I don't even know if that's grammatically correct) when she's around Spencer.

Thank you so much for reading this, you're doing an EXCELLENT job, your works are a masterpiece!! 💕💖💝💓💓💖💞💕💖💓

Make a Wish - S.R

a/n: eekkkkkk post-prison spencer reid has me in a CHOKEHOLD! thank you so much for requesting, i'm so sorry for the delay! i hope i did your request justice!! I LOVE LOVE YOU!

masterlist

pairings: post prison!spencer reid x shy!reader

wc: 0.9k

You had been meaning to give the reports fastened in your hands to Spencer for give-or-take two hours now. Each time you gathered the courage to approach him, just one glance, one simple stupid glance from those piercing eyes set your nerves on fire and sent your brain in overdrive.

As the new media liaison from the narcotics unit, you were warned about the BAU's intimidating figures, particularly Rossi and Emily. However, no warning came regarding Spencer Reid. They mentioned his tendencies for long-winded explanations and awkward social interactions but not the aura of intensity he exuded. Whenever he entered a room, you instinctively started looking for an exit, not because of his criminal record, but because you found yourself hopelessly mesmerized by him.

He was perfect in every sense of the word—brilliant, compassionate, selfless, and an exceptional agent. At least, this is what you had observed from afar. A part of you was scared that any real interaction with him would shatter the idyllic image you had crafted in your head, and you weren't confident you were prepared for such disillusionment. However, you needed to give him these damn papers, dreading the alternative, which was getting summoned to Emily's office.

"Hi."

You did it, okay, first step complete. You opened your mouth, determined to get out the next part you had practiced a little over twenty times in your head, but the words seemed to dissipate into a misty fog in your brain.

"Um, these are for you," you said, rocking back onto the balls of your mary janes, placing the report on his desk. "It's the Henderson lie detector test transcript?"

"Is it?"

You realized you had said it like a question.

You paused, the part of your brain stuttering for a second, trying to flip over the thousands of scenarios you had rehearsed in your head for this interaction. None of them had included those words.

Just a little off script and you felt your fight or flight kick in—nails digging into your palms as you avoided eye contact.

"Yes." A little more confident this time, not by much, and it quickly deflated as you second guessed yourself, stepping closer to peer over his shoulder at the document. "At least I think."

"I'm just messing with you, it is." He said, eyes flickering down to the document, then to you. "You okay?"

"M-Me? Okay? Yeah, of course." The words were stumbling out of your mouth at a rate that was hard to keep up with. "Do I not look okay?"

"No, of course you look okay," he responded, brows knitting together as his gaze traveled down your body, no doubt dissecting your every thought. "You just seem... a bit nervous."

You opened your mouth, aiming to articulate a coherent thought, but it fell short and was quickly interrupted by Spencer.

He suddenly leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, hold still; you have an eyelash."

He was so close, you swore you feel his breath on your cheeks, instantly warming them. Your body was in overdrive, trying to recalibrate as his finger grazed the area under your right eye. You closed your eyes, almost unwillingly, relishing in the unexpected touch.

This was weird. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, and you balled your hand into a fist, attempting to mask the way you were shaking.

The sound of your name snapped you out of your daze. Your eyes followed suit, meeting Spencer's prying eyes. His finger was raised, your eyelash perched on the tip. Your face could have been a furnace, flames of heat spreading from your neck to your nose.

"Do you want to make a wish?"

He looked at you expectantly, eyes darting from your face to his raised pointer finger.

"Okay."

You closed your eyes, forming the wish in your mind before blowing on the lash. You watched it float to the ground, settling gently on the toe of Spencer's shoe. 

"What did you wish for?"

"I feel like I'm not supposed to tell you that," you say, pulling at the ends of your hair.

He was undeniably good-looking. It wasn't like you were just realizing it; you had eyes and you were only human. But up close, you could see every detail—the dark circles under his eyes, the rough stubble under his jaw.

"I think you're right."

The sudden intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat. You stepped back, nodding at his words and also nothing in particular.

"Anyway, yeah, those are the papers—," you began, turning to walk away. As you did, you bumped your hip into the desk beside you, hissing under your breath in response.

"Christ, are you okay?" His hand was on your hip as the words came out of his mouth.

The touch only seemed to intensify your embarrassment. You stepped out of his grip, dropping your phone as you did which you quickly bent down to pick up.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, just forgot I have a meeting with Emily, so I'm just gonna—," you pointed towards her office, quickly making your escape from Spencer as you tried to catch your breath.

Once you were a distance you deemed safe enough, you allowed yourself a quick glance back at him. He was smirking, and you felt that all familiar heat rising into your chest once again.

You really hoped that wish would kick in soon.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @looking1016 @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @perpetuallydone @hiireadstuff @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3

join my taglist here!

[mischievousmoony]

Hiiii!!! i absolutely love your writing and i wonder if you wouldn’t mind writing a james potter x fem!reader thingy. Basically where she is out with some

friends that are absolute dicks and basically they ‘dare’ her to walk home in the dark alone whilst she is drunk and she agrees became se she just wants them to like her but she realises how much of an idiot she is and so she walks to James’ house where he comforts her and stuff.

if not don’t worry

love you!!!!

changed the prompt up a little hope it's okay lovie <3 i also made it a bit long for my definition of a drabble but thats ok hopefully u think the more words the merrier luv u

𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢

⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 2.3k ⟢ warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, intoxication, social anxiety briefly mentioned, implications of how dangerous the situation was, for some reason i used this as an opportunity to practice writing imagery so sorry if it's too much

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The sharp, crisp wind nips at your skin as you walk down the shadowy, deserted London streets, the echo of your heels clicking against the pavement being the only sound that punctures the eerie silence.

A misty breath passes your lips and you hug yourself a little tighter, your hands making futile attempts at smoothing the goosebumps that dot your arms. You mentally curse yourself for listening to your "friends" when they said a jacket would ruin your outfit, wondering if this was their plan all along.

More tears fall as your mind wanders back to the friends you thought you were making and the bitter wind swiftly dries them against your cheeks, leaving your skin tacky with the salty residue.

What was supposed to be an opportunity to forge new friendships with some girls from your class took a devastating turn when they all crammed into a taxi without you, leaving you tipsy and stranded with their parting taunts ringing in your ears.

"Wait, we won't all fit," you had jabbered facetiously, the gravity of the situation not yet apparent to your drunk mind as you clumsily stumbled towards the car, your heel catching on a crack in the pavement.

One of the girls snickered as she wrenched the door of the black cab open, "That's a shame, innit?"

"I suppose you'll have to find another way home," another girl remarked, the others laughing along, barely bothering to suppress their amusement.

The carefree smile you sported faded from your face, feelings of dread and alarm creeping up your chest as you murmured, "My phone is dead, I won't be able to call a car."

"Sounds like you'll be walking home tonight," one of them sneered with a cruel edge.

"W-what?" you stammered, your chest rising and falling with a frantic rhythm as the sobering situation sinks in, "Walking back to my flat would take close to an hour."

The last girl to pile into the car— the one who originally extended the invitation to their night out with warmth and enthusiasm— looked up at you from her seat in the taxi with a mix of feigned sympathy and cruel delight. Her eyes gleamed with sly satisfaction as she leaned out of the car and took the door handle into her grasp.

"Well, then you better start," she declared, her tone punctuated by a mocking laugh and the slam of the car door.

You wish you could say that there was a sudden flip in their behavior the moment the taxi pulled up, but the abrasive way they conducted themselves around you all night should have had you running ages ago. But your naivety and desperation to make friends clouded your judgement, you supposing that it might simply take more than one night for the girls to warm up to you.

The sound of the car screeching away still rings in your ears as you brave the streets alone, trudging in the opposite direction of your flat. The hour walk to your home— more if you walked along the safest path you could think of— was too daunting on your mind. Your desperation to get off the streets steered you to your boyfriend's instead, his flat being half as far as yours.

If it weren't for the overwhelming unease you felt, you might have been too embarrassed to face James tonight. But your nervous edge was enough to send you hastily fleeing to his flat, it being well into the A.M., and you being alone— dressed in an outfit you were only comfortable wearing around a swarm of girls you thought had your back— and barely able to hold your own after medicating your social anxiety with a few too many cocktails.

When you finally arrive at the familiar stoop to James' place, you feel a wave of relief wash over you as you stagger up the stairs, leaning heavily on the iron railing for support.

Your knocking is incessant as you mutter pleas under your breath, desperately hoping James is sleeping lightly tonight. It feels like more time has passed than it actually has by the time the door creaks open.

James appears in the doorway, clearly just out of bed. His hair is tousled more than usual, stray strands sticking out unevenly over his forehead, and his clothes are wrinkled from tossing around in his sleep. He straightens out his glasses that lay crooked over the bridge of his nose as he processes your presence, his face a blend of sleepiness and alarm.

You utter his name weakly, a fragile quiver that reveals your vulnerability and distress. James' heart breaks at the sound and he wordlessly pulls you inside and envelopes his arms around you. You let him pull you in and your hands find the plush cotton of his jumper, gripping onto it like a lifeline.

James' mind races with worry, trying to piece together what could have happened to put you on his doorstep, tearful and distraught, in the middle of the night. He knows that you had gone out for some drinks at some bar downtown. He also knows that you weren't supposed to be alone and that you were supposed to take a taxi home— these being the answers to questions he asked earlier to ensure your safety.

The possibilities of what could have went wrong fill him with a profound sense of dread, and he tries not to let himself get carried away with the nightmares that swirl around in his mind.

Wrapped in his arms, you kick your heels off to the side somewhere. The shoes were killing you, and one more second in them and you might have collapsed into a heap on the floor.

James can feel you tremble against him when you settle, a result of the cold and lingering fear from being outside, inebriated and alone.

"You're freezing," he whispers, his voice hoarse from his recent slumber and edged with worry as his large hands come to rub your arms. He frowns at the iciness of your skin.

It's James' first instinct to break the embrace and tug at his collar, pulling the jumper from his own back to drape its warmth over you instead, leaving him only in his joggers that hang lazily from his hips.

The cotton is still warm with his body heat when it cocoons you and the scent of him on the fabric brings you comfort. You sniffle pathetically when you meet James' large, sorrowful eyes that brim with concern as your head pops free from the jumper's collar. He smoothes the fabric over your body quickly before his hands climb up to your face.

The pads of his thumbs sweep away stray tears as he cups your face, his fingers brushing softly along your jawline as he tilts your head to meet his troubled eyes.

"What happened?" he asks, notes of concern in his voice as his thumbs trace soothing shapes into your cheekbones.

An anguished whimper sounds in your throat and more tears begin to spill. You shake your head, unable to find your voice to explain.

"That's okay," he murmurs, pulling you back into his chest as he cradles your head in his hands, "It's okay, my love, I'm here. You're safe."

He coos tender words of comfort and reassurance in your ear, his voice steady and soothing. One hand lowers to gently rub your back until the tremors in your body gradually subside and you begin to feel a sense of security build back up.

James only pulls away when the rise and fall of your chest slows to a steady rhythm. Brown eyes meet yours and he offers a reassuring smile. He murmurs words of beckoning and leads you deeper into his flat. He doesn't take you far, just to his sofa so he can get you off your feet. You're thankful, the blisters from your heels becoming almost unbearable to stand on.

Your boyfriend sits first, gingerly pulling you down onto his lap, both craving your closeness and understanding just how much you need him right now. You curl up with your legs folded in front of you and your knees drawn close to your chest, your side pressed snugly against his torso. One of his arms wraps around your back for support, while the other rests casually over your legs, his large hand comfortably settling on the back of your thigh.

His head lulls forward until he can nuzzle into your hair, his breath warm against your ear as he softly prompts, "Think you can tell me what happened now?"

You sniffle once, letting your lungs fill with air before you stammer into a hesitant explanation. Still embarrassed over the whole ordeal, everything comes out in a small, quivering voice, starting with the awkward tension at the bar and ending with the way they laughed as they cruelly left you on the curb.

A whirlpool of emotions rages in James' chest. He doesn't understand how anyone could be unkind to his lovely girl, and he certainly doesn't understand how anyone could be so heinous to leave a person alone on the street like that.

James swallows hard, his next question living on the tip of his tongue until he has the strength to ask it. His tone is unwaveringly serious, low and intense in its level of concern, when he finally does.

"Baby, please tell me you walked straight here. No one gave you any trouble?"

"No," you shake your head, "no trouble."

James feels his whole body relax at your words, and a noise hitches in the back of his throat as he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. The overwhelming flood of relief and emotion threatens to bring him to tears, but he manages to hold them back. His eyes close briefly as he presses closer, his nose smooshing against the side of your head as he presses kisses behind your ear.

Your eyes flutter shut too as you allow James to cradle you in his arms. You think about how you almost tripped a few times, but you know that's not exactly what James is worrying about. Although, you can imagine he'd fuss over that too, checking your knees and palms for scuffs and kissing the skin there just because you could've hurt it.

As you feel the tension drain from his body beneath you, you think about how his fears mirrored your own.

"I was scared there would be," you admit in a small voice.

"I know my darling girl. I'm so sorry," he leans back, tilting his head to the side so he can meet your gaze. You don't miss how his eyes are glassy when they lock onto yours with calming intensity, "You're safe now, I've got you." He presses his lips to your forehead, lingering there as he mumbles, "I'm sorry this happened."

"I thought I was making friends," you choke out, the words cracking with the weight of the betrayal.

James feels his heart break all over again.

"Those girls don't deserve to have you as friend."

"But I want friends. It was so easy in secondary school. I've always had you, and Lily, Sirius, Remus. Everyone."

James listens intently, his sympathetic eyes gazing upon yours once again.

"I'm all alone at uni. And I don't why nobody likes me," you finish in anguish.

James promptly moves his hand from your thigh to cup your cheek, "Listen to me. You're lovely, so lovely. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, alright? You're going to find people who think so too."

"And you have me," he corrects. "You still have all of us. I know things are different now, and I bet you're missing having friends in your classes, yeah? But uni's only just started. You're gonna find your people."

"You think so?"

"I know so, lovely girl," he says, his thumb flicking the tip of your nose endearingly, "I was already a goner the first time I spoke to you. And if I remember correctly, you and Lily were thick as thieves after one day of knowing each other. Right?"

You hum affirmatively, remembering the first days of friendship with the people you now call family.

"See? You're good at making friends. It's 'cause you're amazing, anyone with a brain can see that. Those girls are just bloody idiots." James' features take on a sour look when he thinks about them, but with you in his arms, he can't sustain his irritation for long— especially not with you smiling prettily at his words.

"There's that smile," he mumbles fondly, and your giggle is music to his ears. You stay like that for a moment, trading smiles and tender caresses.

Eventually, James' expression shifts, his brow furrowing as he becomes stern.

"Next time you go out, I'm gonna pick you up. I don't care how late, I don't care who you're with. And I'm buying you a portable charger for that phone."

"Okay, Jamie," you agree softly, recognizing the firmness in his voice that leaves no room for argument, and finding it a bit endearing how fiercely he cares for you.

He relaxes again with a sigh. His hand, which still remains cupping your cheek, pulls you a fraction closer.

"I'm happy you're safe, love. I'm happy you came here." Each of his words is wrapped with sincerity and affection. "I love you," he says earnestly.

"I love you too," you whisper, the same depth of emotion laced in your words.

He guides you even closer, meeting you halfway with a tender kiss to your lips. It's a beautiful blend of sweetness and innocence, a soft brush of lips that envelopes you in a blanket of sweet serenity, making you forget what it was ever like to be scared.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Shouldn’t come back.

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Hello lovely people, long time no see! This here was inspired by a scene from a tv show about superheroes (I will not be posting the name because I’m not caught up and I want no spoilers, but it rhymes with The Toys) it is once again my try at angst! So I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Word count: 1,416.

Masterlist.

It was late at night, you were watching a film after the long tedious day you had when a sudden knock on your door pulls your attention away from the television.

Choosing to ignore the insistent knocking because of the late hour you higher the volume on your tv. Causing the knocks on your door to suddenly seize.

But after a few minutes they begin once again so you let out a sigh before standing up from your comfortable couch and making your way over to your door. Peering through the peephole before you, cursing under your breath at the person on the other side of the door.

“Please detka, open up,” you hear Wanda say and you hold your breath, “I know you’re there, I can feel you,” she whispers and you roll your eyes but nonetheless open up your door.

“What are you doing here Wanda?” You ask harshly, not content to see your ex.

“I was finishing a mission up in the area and I- well, may I come in?” The witch asks softly and you scoff.

“Sure,” you answer, opening your door some more and moving to the side to make room for the redhead.

“So…” she begins as you both stand in the foyer of your home, “it’s good to see you, how have you been?” Wanda asks, looking around your house, eyes taking in how much you’ve erased her from your life.

“Is that really what you came to ask?” You say, a humorless chuckle escaping your lips.

“Uh, no, I didn’t-” Wanda stutters, shaking her head as tears brim in her eyes at your hostility. “Wait. Where’s Sparky?” The witch asks as she looks around, the lack of presence of the dog you once shared making itself known.

“Sparky died. Two years ago,” you say, posture rigged as you cross your arms on your chest to keep the hurt at bay. The redhead witch looking at you with pity, a look you hate coming from everyone, especially her.

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t know” she begins, but you cut her off with a hand in the air.

“Look Wanda, it’s late,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had a long day and I’m not really up for whatever this is,” you say gesturing between you both. “So uh, could you please leave. Also why don’t you call next time before just showing up at my house, alright?” You say as you begin walking towards your door to escort Wanda out.

“You know I can’t call you, not after you blocked my number,” the witch says, and you scoff.

“And yet, you somehow still don’t get the hint that I want nothing to do with you,” you say and Wanda sighs.

“Y/N please, you don’t have to be like this,” Wanda whispers, from behind you as she slowly follows after you, her words making you halt your steps immediately, making you sharply turn around.

“Be like what exactly, Wanda?” You question harshly, a deadly look in your eyes. “You show up to my home, in the middle of the fucking night, asking about Sparky and you want me to just what? Be okay with that?” You ask as you look at Wanda which is when you notice her misty eyed look. “Jesus,” you begin, shaking your head incredulously, “you’ve been drinking.”

“What, no?” The witch chuckles nervously, as she puts a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes flitting around to avoid yours.

“Do not lie to me Maximoff,” you say seriously and Wanda breathes before meeting your eyes.

“Look I had one drink, okay,” she says and you immediately know it’s a lie.

“Have you been seeing your therapist? Are you still attending your AA meetings?” You ask, your mask slipping, allowing Wanda to see your genuine concern.

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now. I just came because I miss you baby,” Wanda begins, taking a step towards you, causing you to step back.

“Stop, you don’t get to say that to me,” you say, the mask of indifference slipping as each minute that Wanda is with you passes, “now please, leave.” You say pointing to your door.

“Please, I haven’t seen you in years, I just- I want to spend time with you-“ she begins, but you cut her off.

“Look Wanda, you may not have seen me in years, but I can’t say the same about you,” you begin, “Because I see you. I see you EVERYDAY, every damn day. I see you on my way to work, because you’re all over the damn billboards. I see you when I’m watching my favorite TV shows, because you just happen to be in every goddamn commercial. So yeah, I may be out of your life, but unfortunately you’re still very much in mine, and you have no idea how hard that is. How hard I desperately want to move on, but I can’t because I am constantly reminded of you, and what we had so please, do me a favor and leave me the hell alone,” you say, ending your rant with tears finally slipping past your eyes.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t know I- look, I’m really sorry,” Wanda stutters.

“I don’t want your apologies, okay?” You say, shaking your head harshly, “I just want you to leave me the hell alone so that I can try to continue building on my life. Alright, so go back to your Avengers tower, go back to the life of glitz and glamour you so desperately wanted,” you yell, arms flailing in distress. “Go back to the life where you could drink and fuck whoever you wanted without a care in the world, alright. Return to playing house with Vision and please just forget about me like how I’m trying to forget about you!” You exclaim, causing Wanda to stumble backwards into your wall before a humorless laugh escapes her lips and she slides down the wall, tears rushing down her face.

“I can’t go back,” she begins, hands trembling in distress. “I don’t want to go back,” she whispers, looking up at you from the ground with the most bewildered eyes you’ve seen on her and you frown before you kneel down in front of the redhead witch.

“Wanda, what? What’s going on? Talk to me. What happened?” You ask softly.

“It’s just too hard, I can’t- I can’t do it anymore,” she cries, as leans her face further into your hands, body trembling as she takes in sobbing breaths.

“Yes you can Max, this is what you’ve always wanted, the life of a hero, you’ll figure it out, you always do,” you whisper encouragingly.

“No, no, you don’t get it. There’s just been so many casualties. I lost you and I just don’t think I can’t get past this,” she cries, moving forward to hug you.

“You will, Wanda, you’ll figure it out, you always do,” you say, hugging her before pulling back slightly to cup her face in your hands, “you’re the smartest person I know Max,” you say with a soft smile, “you’ll get through it.” You whisper, thumbs softly caressing her cheekbones. Causing Wanda to look into your eyes before moving forward suddenly and pressing her lips into yours. “Wanda.” You begin in between kisses, “no, no, this isn’t a good idea,” you say, pulling back slightly causing Wanda to follow after you.

“Baby, please,” she whispers brokenly.

“No Wanda, you’re clearly drunk,” you say before pulling away to stand, “and I’m tired of playing this back and forth game with you. So if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and let you know that you definitely shouldn't come back. I can't keep doing this, it’s not healthy for you or for me,” you sigh and Wanda nods solemnly.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you, one day I’ll be good enough for you. I promise,” Wanda says once she makes it to your door and you shake your head when she turns to face you.

“I’m not holding my breath for empty promises anymore Wanda, just go,” you say full of resignation and the witch swallows the knot in her throat.

“I truly am sorry,” Wanda says one last time.

“I know you are,” you whisper, before shutting your door in the face of the person that was once the love of your life.

[bellestarot]

About Your Next/Current Relationship❣️

🎄 Take your time to choose

︵‿︵‿︵ʚĭɞ‿︵‿︵‿

Pile I

I’m getting the message that if you’re already in a relationship, you might be going through a period of sadness. You used to feel happy in this relationship, enjoying your time with this person. Things were different from how they feel now. Are you waiting? Perhaps for a response or an apology from this person? This waiting is affecting you deeply—hoping for a text or a conversation. I see you becoming more withdrawn during this time.

If you’re single, I can tell you that your next relationship will arrive unexpectedly, at a moment in your life when you’re not emotionally at your best. This person will appear, and both of you will need to be patient as you navigate this connection. You’ll have to balance things in your life to build a healthy relationship with them.

This period will require you to work on your emotions, allowing you to open your heart and regain the fun, outgoing nature that defines you. If you’re already in a relationship, I see the need for an honest conversation. Communication is essential for resolving issues. If this doesn’t happen, I foresee the possibility of a breakup.

This person appears to come from a wealthy family with a solid financial foundation, a nice home, and a stable career. However, they are also hardworking and independent, not solely reliant on their family. They are patient, love traveling, and enjoy giving meaningful gifts to those they care about. Quality time is important to them, and they will likely invite you to travel together and meet their family.

Although they have a big heart and enjoy helping others, they can get easily frustrated. They struggle to control their emotions, becoming stressed or crying easily. Despite this, they are very creative, with talents they’ve nurtured since childhood—for example, playing piano or excelling in a math competition.

This person will care deeply for you and express their affection through the time they spend with you. Their friends will also appreciate you, and they will proudly introduce you to the important people in their life.

Pile II

Your future partner is someone who has been keeping an eye on you for a while. This person is already interested in you and knows you, but they won’t tell you directly that they like you. They have feelings for you secretly.

I don’t see you actively seeking a relationship at the moment. You seem okay with it if someone comes into your life, but if not, that’s fine too. In fact, when this person finally shows interest, you may still feel this way. I see you being a bit more withdrawn right now when it comes to relationships and meeting someone new. But this person has a lot of love to give. They are bright, fun, and enjoy talking and making people laugh. It would be a great time for you both to get to know each other, and for them to express how they feel.

However, I see you being very critical of yourself, judging your actions a lot, and not resting. You work hard and do a lot but don’t give yourself time to relax.

If you’re already in a relationship, I see that you keep some things to yourself. You don’t tell your partner about certain feelings or past events, and they are waiting for a chance to improve things between you two. They want to offer a better relationship and quality time together, letting things flow naturally. This person might be more family-oriented and may want to have kids, while you don’t currently think about that, which can create a conflict. You may feel judged, but your partner doesn’t see you as someone who should be responsible for everything either.

This person has a way of making everyone feel at home and like best friends after just one conversation. They will easily grab your attention and reach your heart because they are warm, fun, and energetic. But they can be forgetful or avoid confrontation at times. They love spending time with others and have been judged in the past for treating friends like partners. This approach has led to misunderstandings in past relationships, but it’s because they care deeply for everyone. They have experienced heartbreak and betrayal but have moved on. They work on their mental health to stay strong. I see this person telling their friends that they like you, and everyone already knows. However, if someone tells them that you found out, they wouldn’t know what to do.

Pile III

If you are single, your next relationship will come after you move on from what happened to you. Once you get over that, someone new will appear. This person will be adventurous, fun, and everyone will be 100% in love with you. I see this person showing up at your house late at night, inviting you for a walk. I also see this person sending you gifts and flowers wherever you are. They will be completely in love with you.

This person loves giving gifts and enjoys parties and fun. You might need to be open-minded and not restrict them because they will introduce you to their lifestyle this way.

But you’re a bit different from them. They love parties, while you might be more of a homebody, someone who prefers staying in. You particularly like tarot, but it’s about adapting or respecting each other’s space and living life true to yourself and each other. This person has great potential to be a responsible man and a family man in the future, which is very interesting.

If you’re already in a relationship, the issue is the parties and the social scene. This person going out to see friends and party without you has become a big obstacle in your relationship. Even though you love them, they seem to love the adventurous lifestyle and travel even more. This has caused tension between you two, even though it’s not new to you. It bothers you greatly, and you’ve argued about it before.

This person is not bad; they are actually inspired by their mother. Their mother, who has always been a hardworking woman, has greatly influenced who they are. Because of her, this person has worked since an early age and understands money and the market.

When this person is in a serious relationship, they become very intense, as if it’s the last relationship of their life. They become very focused and can be possessive or suffocating. At the same time, they may show unhealthy behaviors. If you do something that affects their ego, they might start playing mind games, talking to others to get a reaction, or behaving in other troubling ways. Even if you’re in a relationship, they might still engage with other people. Pay attention to these signs if you notice them in someone you know, so you can decide if that person is right for you.

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's always been steady and loving - someone you cherish deeply and never doubted. The new ring on your finger was proof. So when she starts behaving distant and preoccupied, you don't know what could be wrong. Everything in your shared life is perfect. Right?

Warnings: Angst. Language.

A/N: Hello! This is the angsty, love-child from Jessie's UCLA days fic. It will be a bit of a rollercoaster, but I hope you all enjoy!

"I can't believe you're going to be my wife," Jessie said, beaming ear to ear as she picked you up and spun you around. You laughed in her ear, head light and fuzzy with the elation of the moment.

"As if I'd ever say 'no'," you chuckled once she set you down. You grinned as she held up your hand to examine the sparkling ring that looked and fit perfectly on your finger - something she'd, of course, made sure of.

She shook her head in disbelief, a quiet smile lingering and pulling at her rosy cheeks.

"I just love you so much. I adore you and I can't wait for us to keep building our life together," she told you, eyes growing misty. You kissed her, harder than you'd intended, but every nerve in your body was firing in elation.

You looked at the woman before you. You couldn't have wanted more. You were so lucky to have her and her heart. You smiled.

"Same. I can't wait."

Your eyes fell to the empty spot next to you on the couch. Your chest panged as you pushed the memory away. The Jessie in that memory seemed so far away lately.

You released a silent huff and stood up, padding over and around the corner to the kitchen. You paused as you saw her leaned back against the counter. She wore a frown as she chewed at the corner of her thumb while she read something on her phone.

"Can I help you with anything?" You asked, making sure to keep your tone warm.

Her eyes shot up in surprise, before her frown hardened as she stepped away from the counter quickly tucking her phone away.

"What," she snapped as she turned on her heel and began working on fixing tea again. "I've got it," she went on softer, though not looking back over at you.

"It's been 15 minutes," you said a bit flatly, trying to cull your irritation. "So I just thought I'd see if I could help."

"No, it's fine," she assured you as she readied things and put them away in a bit of a disarray; very unlike her. She sighed, though you think she tried to stifle it, as she took long strides over to you with two mugs in hand. She handed one to you with a tight smile.

"Here," she said lightly. She leaned in and gave you a peck on the cheek, brushing past you to walk to the living room before you'd even registered it. You followed her silently. "Sorry for the wait," she said softly as she sat down, eyes on you as you took a seat next to her.

"It's fine," you said simply as you took a tentative sip. The beverage was lukewarm and offensively oversteeped. She really did forget about it. Still, you offered her a brief smile.

"Okay, let's go," she said putting on a new front of exaggerated brightness as she unpaused your show and settled in. She grasped your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze before shifting over closer to you. "You're too far away," she commented with a light laugh.

Normally, you'd laugh and swoon at such a thing from her. But right now, it felt hard to even smile for her. You didn't know what was going on.

The way she was in the kitchen, hiding away, transfixed on her phone, scattered, defensive; they were behaviours you never associated with her before, but had been increasingly the case the past month and a bit. Even when things were challenging - even horrible - with club or the national team, she hadn't been like this. Sure, she withdrew sometimes and could be quiet, but she didn't hide from you. Not like this.

You strangely had never worried about her cheating. She was wholesome and dedicated and sweet. She was your Jessie. Of course you trusted her. She loved you and you knew it. But now? You had a giant pit in your stomach. This ominous cloud lingering overhead that you couldn’t shake.

You'd noticed a few things cropping up initially, but you dismissed them. She'd never given you a reason to doubt her and for that you were grateful. Even if something was odd, there must've been a good reason.

The first time you really took notice was when you heard her getting out of bed extremely early one morning - early even for her - and though you just figured she was going to washroom or couldn't sleep, when you didn't hear her for some time you went to check on her. You came around the corner to see her out on the balcony talking quietly on the phone. You went back to bed and asked her about it when you got up later in case something had been wrong with her family or someone else.

Normally, she'd answer the question no problem, but she'd snapped at you instead and quickly excused herself to go on a run.

From there, you started to pick up on more things. Coming home late, disappearing for extended times, being secretive about her texting or calling sometimes. It was bizarre and so not like her.

Training. Games. The team. Those were always her excuses.

You wanted to believe her. You really did. You were going crazy flipping between wanting to corner her, question her, and get the truth, or dismiss everything because there must be a logical reason.

Jessie loved you. You'd been together for years, she'd proposed, you had all these plans for the future together and things had been going great. At least as far as you knew. It just didn't make sense.

You tried to focus on the show you two were watching, but you just felt unsettled. And by the way Jessie huffed intermittently, fidgeted and again chewed at nails and fingers, it seemed she felt similar. You asked if she was alright, if something was on her mind, but of course she dismissed any concern you had.

The show ended and you looked at the clock. It was about the time you and Jessie would both retire to bed, or at least Jessie. The heavy pit in your stomach didn't inspire you to do much else this evening.

"I think I'm going to go to bed. You coming?" You asked.

"Uh," she sat forward slightly on the couch and scratched the back of her head in contemplation. "I might stay up a bit. I'm not all that tired," she told you with a tight-lipped smile that didn't hide the bags under her eyes. You mustered up a smile in return though your stomach sank further.

"'Kay," you said simply as you stood up. "Try not to stay up too late. I know you haven't been sleeping well lately."

"I won't," she said with a hint of an edge in her tone. Her face scrunched up a moment later and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, um, I forgot to tell you - I'm going to be home late tomorrow."

Again?

"How late?" You asked as evenly as possible despite the irritation that immediately flooded your body.

"I don't know," she said with thinly veiled impatience at your inquiry.

It took every ounce of patience to speak calmly.

"Well, would you like me to try to change our reservation?"

A deep frown settled on her face as she stared up at you in question. Her expression fell a second later.

You let out the faintest, empty laugh. It was either that or you were going to start tearing up.

"You forgot?" You asked flatly. Your anniversary dinner.

You weren't that much for special occasions, but you always celebrated your anniversary and Jessie was often the one most on top of it; planning romantic, special things. Just not this time, evidently, and it felt like yet another nick in your skin.

She sighed inaudibly and offered you an apologetic look as she stood to face you.

"I'm so sorry," she said and it seemed genuine. "I-" she paused as she raised a hand to explain, but dropped it listlessly to her side with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you," she promised.

"It's fine, Jess," you said quietly. Neither of you spoke further, just standing across from one another with silence mounting.

You disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and readied for bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath to try to steady yourself. You wanted to be mad, or better yet, not care at all, but instead you just felt disappointed and hurt.

When you came back out she appeared and came up to you right away, following you to the bedroom.

"Let's go for a hike on Sunday and we can go to your favourite spot for lunch," she offered eagerly.

"Sure," you replied dully as you got under the covers. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to give you a kiss.

"You're the best," she said before rising and padding out of the room, closing the door behind her.

You closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but the bundle of nerves and thoughts that careened through your mind wouldn't allow you. You felt restless and irritable, tossing and turning in the bed and doing your best to not check the time as you waited for her to come to bed.

You eventually sighed and gave in looking at your phone. It was after midnight.

You exhaled gruffly as you threw the covers off and approached the bedroom door. You could see the sliver of light from the other room coming through and you took a calming breath before you opened the door.

You immediately spotted Jessie at the kitchen table and her head snapped up from her laptop with an expression much the same as earlier this evening when she was supposed to be making tea. Her eyes fell back to her screen as she clicked a few times before sitting back in her chair and frowning at you once more.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked with a bit of a huff.

"What are you doing?" You asked, ignoring her question as you approached. You normally would've just sat across from her, but your skepticism was getting the better of you and you came around the other side to stand behind her. The hairs on the back of your neck rose as she curled inward a bit and gave you a scrutinizing look.

"What?" She asked curtly as she shot a look at you before looking back at her screen which only showed a table of player statistics. "I'm just prepping for our next game," she went on in the same manner as she closed the lid of her laptop rather firmly.

"You're just up late," you relented as you returned to the other side of the table and took a seat.

"Yeah," she said dismissively with a shrug.

You folded your arms on the table. "You're going to be tired in the morning."

"Yeah, well," she said in a tone as she brushed her hair back and slid down in her chair slightly, planting her feet.

You sighed tiredly and gave her an imploring look.

"What's going on Jess," you said beseechingly. "I know you keep saying it's stuff with the Thorns or the national team, but," you paused as you tried to gather your words, "I don't know. You're just not acting like yourself. You've been so hot and cold. And I feel like you're hiding things from me and I've never felt that way before."

She huffed and grew restless, eyes and hands scanning the table for clutter or distractions that weren’t there.

“I told you,” she said in exasperation and eyes determinedly downcast, “things are just stressful right now with the season and there’s a lot I need to navigate for it.” She sighed quietly before finally looking up at you. “It’ll be better soon,” she said, gaze falling once more as her tone fell too. “I just need some time.” 

You felt for her. You could see that whatever she was dealing with was weighing on her in a way you’d never seen. Even the scandal at the Olympics didn’t have her like this. Still, she wasn’t giving you a straight answer.

“Babe, I love you,” you said, pleading almost. “I just wish you’d tell me more. I’m supposed to be able to help you, support you, and if I don’t know what you’re going through I can’t do that very well.”

Her mouth was set in a line as she sat hunched over, hands now tucked between her knees as she stared hard at the table surface. She took a sharp breath and looked up at you, expression even.

“I know you want to help, but there’s nothing you can do.” She looked like she was going to say more, but she stopped and you saw a flash of emotion cross her face before she swallowed it. “I know you deserve better,” she said with the slightest waver in her voice.

Your posture grew rigid and you blinked at her declaration.

“I,” you started, unsure of what to think. You found yourself giving her a tentative, nervous smile. “What do you mean by that?” You asked lightly, your voice thin.

She exhaled gruffly as she buried her face in her hands and rubbed harshly at her features. “I don’t know,” she mumbled as she set her elbows heavily on the table and slowly shook her head. A beat passed before she dropped her hands and she gave a single shake of her head. “I think we should just go to sleep,” she said quietly.

“Jess-”

“I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore,” she said as she rose abruptly, the chair scraping across the floor as she did so. She gave you an imploring look. “Can we just go to sleep? We can talk about this another time.” She made sure to hold your gaze. “I promise.”

You felt helpless. At her mercy - whether she chose to let you in or not.

“Is there someone else?” You blurted out. She physically recoiled at the question.

“What?! Oh my God. Y/N. No, there is no one else,” she said adamantly. “Jesus Christ,” she said with a disbelieving laugh. “No. I love you. So much. I know you’re frustrated with me, but Jesus, no, I would never cheat on you. I just - I just need some space!” She said as her voice rose in desperation at the end. She breathed and spoke softly. “Please. Can we just go to bed?”

You felt tears begin to prickle at your eyes and you quickly looked away. You cleared your throat.

“Yeah. You go on ahead. I’ll be in in a bit,” you told her, hoping the tightness in your throat didn’t betray the steadiness you hoped to relay. By the way she remained rooted to her spot, her gaze boring into you as you determinedly avoided it, she wasn’t fooled.

“Y/N,” she said gently.

“I’ll be there soon,” you repeated as you were the one to now brush imaginary dust off the table.

-------

Your anniversary came and went, and though Jessie did send flowers to your office and brought home a card and a gift, she was quiet and distracted all night.

As you laid together in bed that night, you feigning looking at something on your phone, but rather, vacantly staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about how long it had been since you two had been intimate. It'd been weeks. Since all of this started, really.

The longest breaks you two typically had were simply due to her being out of town, but with how distant and moody she'd been, initiating sex just never felt right and she certainly hadn't initiated either.

As much as you missed the physical, it was the emotional intimacy you missed most.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. She wore a gentle frown that you still found so endearing as she read her book. The knot in your stomach told you not to do anything, but instead, you snuggled in and began laying soft, feathery kisses on her and let your hands start to wander.

She stiffened slightly under your touch, her shoulders growing taut and her fingers gripping her book tighter. Beyond that, she laid there, unmoving and quiet and the knot in your stomach grew tighter. The hungry moans, salacious grins, and eager hands you were used to from her were far from present.

Still, you blindly hoped that if you just continued, she'd respond in time. The worst moment of all was when you were about to reach down to cup and caress her through her boxers and she gently, but firmly grasped your hand and pushed you away.

"Baby," she said in a type of lament that confused you further. "I'm just-" she finally looked at you, giving you an apologetic look, "I'm just not feeling well. I’m sorry.”

The tightness in your stomach spread rapidly, settling in your throat. You couldn't help but swallow dryly before pulling away. You tried to give her a smile, but it faltered as quickly as it formed and you turned onto your side and away from her.

"Babe," she whispered remorsefully as she laid a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged her off.

"It's fine," you dismissed as evenly as you could. You closed your eyes determinedly and did your best to ignore the tears that began to form behind your eyelids.

"I love you," she said as though she was pleading forgiveness.

You shut your eyes tighter and irritation swept over you as you sniffled against your will.

"Love you too," you forced yourself to say. You hoped your voice didn't tremble the way it did in your head.

She sighed softly and laid her hand gently on your shoulder once more, caressing you with her thumb.

"Jessie. It's okay," you said more tersely than you'd hoped. You'd never really felt the need to hide your emotions around her, but lately - and especially right now - you didn't want her to know how upset you were.

Disappointment came over you at your inability to weather her rejection. Her hand remained on you and you felt her watching you. You exhaled quietly.

"Just read your book, please."

-----------

The following day, outside of a cold goodbye on your part in the morning despite the coffee and eager smile she offered you, you determinedly ignored her. No pining texts with questions about her day that sought affirmation and connection with her. No unprompted stories about your day. Nothing. You waited for her.

And you got nothing in return.

You were fuming by the time you got home. This so-called feeling of empowerment or self-satisfaction over being equally distant to her had proved exceedingly fickle and been replaced by more upset.

You were going to busy yourself by working on a puzzle, but that reminded you too much of her. You settled on a book, but you were woefully distracted and had only managed to read 15 pages - very little of which you remembered - by the time you heard her key slip into the lock of the front door.

You determinedly kept your head down, buried in your book, but after several moments of relative silence you couldn't help but shoot a glare at the wall towards the entry way where she seemed to be lingering. You were about to blurt out a snide remark when you finally heard her footsteps.

The annoyance bubbling just below the surface dissipated quickly as she tentatively stepped around the wall and into the living room. You locked eyes with her and she wore such a somber look that a pit immediately formed in your stomach. No smile, no brightness in her eyes. Just a heavy look and it seemed like she was on the verge of tears. She just stood there and stared at you.

Your mouth grew dry as you watched her. She picked at the skin of her fingers and you saw her visibly swallow several times. Your throat tightened inexplicably as she began to speak.

"I've been standing in the hall for 20 minutes because I've been too scared to come inside." Her voice was low and wavered just so. She'd dropped her gaze and couldn't look at you. She swallowed again. "To have this conversation."

Your heart started to race and you shifted forward on the couch cushion, now teetering towards the edge.

She took a deep breath and gestured aimlessly with a hand as she spoke, eventually meeting your watchful gaze once more.

"I've been just," her face fell briefly as she paused. Her eyebrows remained knitted together and her voice grew taut, "sick to my stomach for weeks. I haven't known what to say. How to say it. When. I just," her voice broke and her lip trembled as she shook her head subtly.

Your shoulders rose and fell as you tried to breath and calm yourself. To brace yourself. She took a quick breath.

"And it hasn't been fair to you. I know things have been shitty. I've been shitty. And I've made you feel like it wasn't true. And I'm so sorry for that," she beseeched, eyes now shimmering. "I just needed some time."

She paused again, visibly on the brink of tears and emotions. Her face screwed up again, but she didn't speak.

"Jessie, what the hell is going on," you cut in, your own voice shaking as tears began to burn behind your own eyes. Whatever admission she was building up to - and you had a feeling you knew exactly what it was - was already piercing you.

Your question seemed to draw her out of her upset briefly and she looked at you anew. She steeled herself and strode over to you, ignoring the way you tensed up in apprehension and she sat down a few inches away from you, but shifted enough so she was facing you.

"I need you to know that I love you more than anything," she said in earnest as she searched your eyes. "You are everything to me. I need you. And I so desperately want us to build our life together. To have the future we planned for."

"Jesus Christ, Jess. Just fucking tell me," you interjected, ready to burst as she continued her speech. You felt a rage and heartache taking over already and you challenged her further. "Just tell me what happened. Who it was."

She looked momentarily taken aback, but also unbothered in a way that made you want to scream.

"I-it's not like that," she responded, voice growing thin as she worked to hold your gaze. "I swear," she said as her eyes began to grow watery once more.

You scoffed. "Then what is it?" Your mask of anger slipped and your voice came out pleading. "Just tell me."

She visibly swallowed and her gazed dropped briefly before she met yours once more with an imploring look and determination.

"I didn't cheat on you. I said I'd never do that and I meant it." She let that set in before carrying on. Her hands were fidgety and you could see her breathing quicken slightly. "I want a future with you - more than ever," she emphasized. "But," she took a shaky breath, "it…my future…our future, it," she trailed off briefly before recentering herself. Her eyes closed for a second as she took a deep, silent breath. When she opened them again she spoke in a quiet, but measured voice. "It's going to look different."

You subconsciously narrowed your eyes at her, unsure what to make of that statement. She ran a hand distractedly through her hair before gripping the cushion beneath her with both hands, hunching in on herself slightly.

"I've been so…not myself. Unsettled. Cagey. Everything you've said. I've been like that the past several weeks because…" She struggled to continue and your breath held firm in your throat. "I found out that I," she was breathing audibly now as you watched her intently. She looked at you and the air in the apartment hung heavy. "I have a kid, Y/N."

She finished so softly, but it echoed in your head. Still, your mind churned in an effort to properly process it. She couldn’t possibly have said what she said. She held your stare.

"I have a daughter."

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

city of angels | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

a/n: of course there is a 1x18 blurb. essential for spencer fics. pt2

“enjoy your swim?” not able to hide the bite of sarcasm as you eyed the soaking spencer reid.

he looked embarrassed as he toweled off his hair, trying to soak up his clothing. “uh, it’s- it’s not what- she pulled me in.” rolling his lips into a straight line, eyes bouncing around.

you hummed and looked at the confiscated camera in your grasp, “so these pictures of you two kissing is, also nothing?” a harsh glare pointed at the doctor, tone dripping with judgment.

he stayed quiet, his mouth was opening and closing, not able to respond. you pursed your lips and nodded, “okay, well i hope it was worth it. putting both of your lives in danger for a little…taste.” walking off before more could be said from either of you.

you handed over the evidence to one of the cops saying that there was photos of lila and spencer in the pool, kissing. your stomach went nauseous at the word. you excused yourself from the actresses house to walk towards one of the black suvs and leaned your back against the hood.

crossed arms over your chest as your chin leaned to your collarbone, mouth twisting as your felt your eyes grow misty. a hiccuped cough escaped when you tried to suppress an impending whimper.

“you okay?” a male voice startled you. you jumped and saw hotch standing straight as his resting face stared at you.

you lightly rubbed at your left cheek and messed with your hair, “yeah. yeah i’m fine. just- just need some air for a minute.” fixing your clothing and stepping away from the car, “did- did the photographer mention anything?” trying to change the subject.

hotch watched you for moment then replied, “nothing yet. says he doesn’t want to give up his inside source.” a tilt of his head, “spencer’s asking for you.” his usual neutral tone with a hint of concern.

you licked your lips and looked off to the side, “not- not to be unprofessional, but i’m kinda upset with him right now.” sweeping a foot over the gravel of ms. archer’s driveway.

hotch hummed, “would this happen to pertain to some photos?” you didn’t responded, just looked up to see hotch stuff his hands into his suit pants pockets, he gave slight raise of his brows.

“…he could’ve gotten hurt. she could’ve gotten hurt. he’s lucky it was just the photographer and not some lunatic with a gun. i- i don’t want him hurt.” waving your hands around then slapping your palms to your outer thighs. one half of the truth.

hotch nodded, “he knows what he did was wrong and unprofessional, especially in this dire situation. but i think the two of you need to properly talk this out, we can’t have this affecting your work.” and then he returned to the house leaving you alone to think.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Venturing[*]

Monster!Rhysand x reader

a/n: monsterrrrrfuckingggggggg how I’ve missed you

warnings: elements of monsterfucking, oral (f! Receiving)

word count: 1,611

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Your lips part invitingly as you stare up in awe at the staggering size of the creature.

“…Rhys…?”

Violet eyes watch from high above, twinkling in the low light of the underground training chamber, used specifically to contain the kind of magic that thrives in his veins. You’d always wondered why they needed the hall to be so vast, but seeing him now, his body so large you have to steeply crane your neck to see him, taller than the majority of buildings in Velaris, you can understand the reasoning.

He seems to almost be made of shadow, something resembling one of those immortal terrors kept locked beneath the distant, misty island of the Prison. Small, blue-black feathers give off a dull light as he moves, powerful muscle shifting beneath what’s likely leathery skin as those towering joints bend backwards, allowing him to descend, paws—you aren’t quite sure what to call them, paws seems too adorable for the talon-tipped terrors before you—folding beneath his elongated snout, watching you idly.

Don’t be scared, he tells you, a faint huff of hot breath unfurling from his nostrils in a laugh, those violet eyes gleaming with amusement and mischief. I’m not, you manage to reply, truthfully. I’m just— you’re very…different…

He pauses at that, the amusement fading into something more serious as he watches you. Have you changed your mind? He asks earnestly, and wild heat swarms your features as you remember the suggestion you’d made…perhaps not entirely thought through on your part. Your head dips a little in embarrassment, and you can practically hear his laughter at your sudden bashfulness. Shadows slide from his dark body, gliding like living fog across the chamber floor, twining up your calves playfully, dipping beneath your skirts as they curiously inch up your thighs. It’s okay if you have, he reassures, I understand I look a little nightmarish, as I am.

But you swallow, that heat growing more intense with the way his beastly eyes run over you, inherently sharp, no matter the softness he’s watching you with. Exposing his more cunning nature that you admit you find appealing. And you’d both agreed you’d be happy to try it, so as long as he’s comfortable…You can definitely feel the arousal that’s soaking your underwear, the hot wetness that’s making it unbearable to keep your clothes on. Fantasy can only take you so far, and now having him truly like this before you—the dizzying need is much more staggering than you had expected.

I was a little caught off guard, you think as your fingers grip the hem of your dress, the small shake in their tips from excitement as your heart pounds, skin hypersensitive as the fabric drags away, baring you to the slightly cool air of the underground chamber. But I hope you didn’t expect that to deter me.

Interest and hunger spark in his darkened violet eyes, shadows coiling closer around your thighs, over the sweep of your hips, twining possessively around your waist as they dip between your legs. You inhale softly as one rolls over your clothed clit, the pressure making your hips want to wind forward, to settle on your knees and rub against the velvety dark tendril…but there’s better in store for you, if you can manage.

“Rhys…” you moan breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut briefly, able to feel the keenness of his attention prickling your skin as it rakes across your body. The shadow retracts enough, and you swallow, eyes reopening to meet his as your fingers hook beneath the band of your underwear, slowly tugging them down over your thighs, past your knees and stepping out of them. Darkness snatches them away to some hidden pocket before you have a chance to scold him—though honestly you’re too aroused to bother.

Slowly you take a few steps towards him, before carefully sliding to your knees, bare skin hyper aware of his attention.

Rhys raises his head from his paws to get a better look at you, violet eyes practically pinning you to your spot on the floor.

“Rhys…” you mumble, heat fluttering wildly in your pussy, already practically dripping onto the floor. “I…want you, still. I’m ready…” You trail off as the shadows snake delicately further up your body, cupping your breasts and skating across your nipples. Your breath hitches as the great beast shifts, snout ever so carefully nudging into you, gently pushing you backwards as the darkness cushions the stone, feeling full and plush beneath your skin.

You meet his eyes, wanting to share this experience as the shadows guide your thighs apart, and he dips closer. Heat liquefies between your legs as his mouth parts, and already you can feel the warmth of his breath brushing against you, even before he sets his tongue to you. Inhaling a slow, steadying breath, your fingers search for the darkness that’s pooling all around, thin tendrils linking with your digits as if he’s holding your hand, and you brace for the feeling.

Lips part, eyes widening as the broad flat of his tongue licks over you, gathering the slick that’s been steadily building and tasting it. A growl rumbles deeply in his chest, pupils expanding in his already darkened violet eyes as the pleasing flavour is swallowed down, and shadows ply your legs wider so he can fit the large, wet muscle over more of you.

Moans swiftly start spilling from your lips, every lick of his tongue dragging across the entirety of your sex, coating the inside of your thighs with gleaming saliva as he laps at a the wetness that’s dripping from your pussy. “Rhys…” you pant, feeling hot and dizzy and so far away from reality, the intensity of the sensations you’ve been fantasising about for so long knocking you clean from your feet, anticipation finally relieved as you meet his beastly eyes. Fuck, he’s so much larger than you are—resting his head on the floor alone put you at eye level.

“Oh, Gods, Rhys…” You pant, back arching as your legs are pulled further, the strokes of his tongue becoming broader and firmer, more certain as he gauges your reactions. Your toes curl, head tipping back as darkness skims across the peaks of your nipples, and fuck, it won’t take much longer.

“Rhys…please…” you beg, flushing hot with pleasure, phantom hands rising from the shadows to twine with your own, to gently pet your hair, to thumb across your breasts and stroke across the delicate planes of your body while the wet heat of his tongue mixes saliva and slick together into an erotic mess. “Gods, I’m—…oh!”

You gasp as the darkness lightly jolts you from the floor, his fangs seamlessly retracting as the lower portion of your body is hoisted inside the hot cavern of his mouth, arms and legs automatically curving and clutching around his snout as his head tips upward, so you’re balanced on the soft skin of his flattened nose.

“Rhys…” you whimper, wild heat making you weak, in awe of how far up in the air you are now he’s raised from the ground, darkness helpfully wrapped around your body like a harness to keep you from falling or toppling into his mouth. But like this, with your legs wrapped around his snout, you’re perfectly spread apart for him, lips sealing around the lower part of your body to create an air-tight environment, and your vision goes a little blurry from pleasure as he creates a gentle suction, hot wetness of his tongue lapping continuously at your cunt, sweeping across your sex hungrily, and you know you’re crying from pleasure.

From this angle you can see how he’s watching you, balanced as you are, and your hands shake as you try to gently stroke against the surprising softness of his skin, fingers trembling as moans spill relentlessly, crying out as the orgasm breaks through your body. Your toes curl, eyes squeezing shut as pleasured noises bubble from your chest, moaning unabashedly from the dizzying heat he’s using to soften your body. The waves pulse and flutter through your muscles with such force you loose grip on reality, falling temporarily into his waiting embrace within your mind.

You were so good, he murmurs tenderly against your temple, held within a quiet, private space that’s only shared between the two of you.

Even if this place doesn’t exist in the real world, you shudder as the aftershocks pass through you, mind stumbling and fumbling as he continues pressing light kisses across your skin, fingers stroking through your hair until your trembling has ceased.

That’s it, he murmurs softly, hand rising to cup your jaw, tilting you to meet his gaze, a faint smile on his mouth and for a moment you can imagine him grinning how he had you before, with you staring down from between his lips, peering into those beastly eyes.

Now that he’s back to usual, you can pick out the glint of mischief in his features. You enjoyed that…a lot, he ventures, an affectionately teasing note in his voice but you can’t manage embarrassment. Instead your hand raises so your fingers can thread through the silky locks of his hair, wanting his mouth closer.

His lips press delicately to your own, and you melt further beneath the touch.

I did, you reply, fatigue evident in your tone. …Did you…?

He smiles against your mouth, pulling you closer to him in this dream-like state you’re wrapped in.

Of course I did, he thinks back, thumb stroking against your cheek. I love when you’re content.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna @acoazlove

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger