#i think they did just make his head more square over time- i always did think his jaw was kinda long in Y3

[harumasa-wifey]

➹Happy New Year»———>

✖Asaba Harumasa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers of chap 5(nothing major) Not proofread

Category: fluff

Note:i was inspired by the new official art and wrote this I was supposed to post it last night but I fell asleep while writing,Sorry for the wait.i cannot picture the accurate spot of this pic but I saw one in game I'll post a pic of it later for reference!

“Meet me behind the cafe in lumina square”

This was the last text you had received from him as you left Random play after meeting with the siblings to return the movie you had rented and wishing them a happy New year in advance.

It was New year's eve and thankfully to the deputy chief you all were out and about today. No fighting hollows , No overload paperwork and some extra which asaba adds to you sneakily because he is too lazy to do them.You love him a lot but you wish sometimes he would Stop adding his paperwork on your desk. It can be a great hassle to finish them in time.

Lumina square always makes every New Year a grand one and a beautiful one to look forward to. You made your way to the metro station hurriedly taking the last train of the hour to the lumina square after talking with Nicole and the others in the cunning hares. The metro was full of people like the elderly, the people with their family, the young highschool students and the couples.

The thought of how this year went passes through your mind. The whole incident with the vision cooperation and the chase in the hollow was stressful. Although it hasn't been completely disposed of, you all can rest easy for the holidays. It was thanks to all of the background support everyone made it safely in the end.

Your thoughts came to an end as the mic on the train announced its stop , you got off the train heading out the metro station into the bustling city of New Eridu. There were lights everywhere and it was more crowded than usual, but there was still one place left to visit before you went to meet him.

Meeting the person you love on new year's eve without a gift doesn't sound right to you so here you are.Standing outside the shop while having second thoughts on what to get him. You had made up your mind to feed him some delicious sweets that are being sold around this time of year even though he likes the bitterness now and is not bothered by it.Having something sweet every once a while would definitely not harm him.

As you look around and yellowish star keychain catches your eye with a little Clover inside. There was something that attracted you to it, so without thinking further you had made the purchase and had it warped in a box.

And your next stop was The cafe.

You had made your way over to the cafe with a little pubsec bangboo to help you cross the road. You re-read his message and made your way to the back of the cafe.

There he was standing while leaning against the palisade while holding a small wrapped box in his hand, his attention over to you as he heard your footsteps coming closer.

“Well look who finally decided to grace me with their presence.Took you long enough”

He spoke with a gentle smile on his face as you rushed over to him.

“I am sorry! I was at the Sixth street when I got your message”

He chuckled at her worries about being late.

“Calm down baby, I was just teasing. No need to rush i just got in myself”

You could hear the crowd hushed as the first firework arched into the velvety night sky as he extended his hand holding the gift box his yellow eyes shining in the lights whispering in a soft tone.

“Happy new year”

Your instinct told you to go and hug him so that's what you did, wrapping your arms around his neck particularly throwing yourself over him not to worry he will always there to catch you.

“Happy new year asaba,may we be together in the next one too”

“Don't worry I'll live long” He said locking his lips with yours into a kiss.

[takes1]

heyy I must tell you all those tsukishima fics were so good😭 i used to literally log on to tumblr everyday just becausd of yoy😭 can I request a mattsun x oblivious reader?? Where he has tried multiple times to tell her thwt he likes her but something or the other happens and he can't and also thr reader has absolutely no idea that he likes her. Maybe in thr end he can be like do you not like me and stuff snd then she is so confused becsue she did not think thwt he'd like her back snd lmao they go out later

mattsun x oblivious!reader

the sheer quantity of tsukki lovers was a shock when i first started posting that old series lemme tell you. i rlly appreciate that!!

warnings. sfw, fluff

details. libero!reader / girls team!reader / mattsun fluff / aoba johsai fluff / oblivious!reader / platonic?cuddling / mattsun is always warm / giving you his jacket trope / rbf!mattsun / thinking he hates you trope / pda / 2k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN

There was only so much to be done about the bitter cold tonight. The Aoba Johsai teams had their joint biyearly dinner, but thanks to a last-minute close for renovation at your usual spot, you and at least fifteen others were stuck waiting for a reservation outside on the town square.

"Fuck-k!" Oikawa shuddered loudly, teeth chattering as he stepped out from the restaurant you were all barred from.

Somebody whined, "I just wanna sit down!"

Iwa trailed close behind, steam practically coming off of his head as he stared down at his phone. He kept his foot in the door for an older couple, sparing a passive-aggressive look at how easily they were seated.

"It'll be another 20 minutes at least," You overheard him, quiet but frothing with frustration, to your own team captain.

Only a few were properly dressed for the weather outside. It was getting darker fast, and the wind was picking up.

You were able to catch a glimpse of his phone screen. He had the estimated wait time from the restaurant's website; 5 groups were before you, but they were nowhere to be seen.

A harsh wind howled through the street and inspired you to jump behind the nearest body. You and the other liberos were lucky to have your faces protected by the gathered group of shoulders and chests, but that's where your blessings ended. Your cardigan could've been made of tissue paper, how thin it was.

The wind settled and you glanced to see who you had nestled up to- you jumped back with a muffled yelp. It went ignored because of the symphony of complaints, curses to the weather.

Matsukawa was glowering down at you. God, was he warm, but he was so mean.

He was the most unsettling member of the guys' team by far. You got along fine with everyone else, but there was some unspoken hatred in his eyes every time you had to interact with him.

He often tried to speak with you after practice, about receiving of all things, quizzing you about your methods from the games he watched or practices he caught. You didn't like how his questions were made to make you feel stupid, so you tended to keep it short with him and run away as soon as you could.

His stare was harsh and judgmental, his frown deep and unforgiving. It gave the impression that he was tearing you apart in his mind.

"Awww, (Y/n)," Your captain, whom you had backed into, put her arms around you at once.

She didn't offer as much heat as him, but it helped to make you feel safer, and wanted. You turned and pressed your face against her chest as she pulled her jacket around the both of you.

Most of the girls were huddled similarly, choice of attire more of an issue than the heavy-coated guys.

Matsukawa wore a thick, black work hoodie, nice thick pants, boots, and a utility jacket over that. You squinted, jealous and bitter, at how he wasn't shivering at all.

"Tw- t-twenty- minutes?" You shuddered against her, sniffling.

She hummed, her cold, dead fingers no help against your sides.

The wind was so strong that it stole your breath with every gust. Your ears were throbbing, your nose numb, even when another teammate joined the huddle.

Not only had you not dressed for the cold, but you didn't expect to be standing so much, so your heels were killing your feet. Another twenty minutes wasn't doable.

"Hey! There's some benches over here!" Somebody called from down the sidewalk and around the corner.

Those that knew it would take longer, especially in uncomfortable shoes, instantly started to migrate away from the door of the restaurant.

The benches were a little wet from the light drizzle earlier. It made most of your teammates hesitate to sit down, including you. You gave a dismal sniffle, completely exhausted from shivering, unable to get any colder or more glum. You peeled off your cardigan.

"Hey, wait wait-!"

"Noo!"

Your teammates gasped, grabbing at you, as you used it to wipe the bench dry.

You turned, offering them a seat, your ferocious shaking in direct contrast to the point you were trying to make.

"It- was-wasn't keeping me warm-- anyway," You struggled to declare.

The three of you sat down on the freezing metal. At least it was dry now. You stared, twitching hard, at the soggy ball in your numb fingers and tried to zone out.

Your eyes had been closed when someone big squeezed in next to you, at the end of the bench. It was too much energy to open them to see who it was.

But a heavy, warm, and cozy presence over you shocked you to open your eyes again.

"Put this on before you pass out," Matsukawa muttered, hands grabbing at the back of his own hoodie, too.

Your face would've felt warm if not for the conditions. It was already stinging, but it stung some more.

"Thank you," You shivered.

His lowered, studied stare at you as you struggled to put on his hoodie with numbed limbs made you feel like a dumbass. He probably thought you were an idiot.

His arm was so solid as he took his outer jacket back, to put it on over his long sleeve shirt. You quickly put up the plush hood and pulled the drawstrings, ears pounding at the relief of some heat.

Then his arm was back, around your shoulders, rubbing firm to get you warmed up faster.

"Thank you," You repeated, better now, and all you could possibly think to say.

When you glanced at him, you found him looking around. There was a protective air to him, like he was busy watching for something while he took care of you. He wore it well.

His hoodie smelled distinctly like him and you found that you did not mind it in the slightest. You were subtle, pulling it over your nose -breathing deep now that you weren't struggling to filter this icy cold air-, letting your body get wracked by his strong rubbing, your head steadied a little on the inside of his big shoulder. It slowly fell, heavier, on him as you learned to trust that he was being helpful.

The wind picked up again- this time you felt invulnerable to its brutality, but he squeezed his working arm into your waist and pulled you, shockingly easy, into his side with no space left between your bodies.

At this point, you were feeling guilty for enjoying it so much. There was no ounce of softness in his angry face to indicate he wanted to hold you. His nose crunched more at the wind, now that he had less layers to protect him. You could only assume he was just being chivalrous.

It made the remainder of the wait harder, in a different way.

"Oh," Iwa raised his brow at you as you passed him to go inside.

He didn't look at you for long, because he referred his gaze to Matsukawa and exchanged a smirk you couldn't see.

When you were all seated, nobody went to sit right next to you. The table was full except for the one seat while everyone filed in. At first, Watari pulled the chair out, but took one look at you and also said, "Ooh," before sitting elsewhere.

Matsukawa sat down without so much as a look at you.

Every guy at the table was looking at him, so you knew you were right about something. You just didn't know what, yet.

The whole evening, he was quiet and only spoke a few times when directly referred to. Otherwise, you felt the weight of his subtle, unwavering gaze anytime you mustered up the courage to contribute to the conversation at the table.

Surely he just wanted his hoodie back. He wore it so often, so it must have been how pitiful you looked outside to make him give it up like that.

Bellies full, bill paid, and a little more relaxed after a fun dinner out with friends despite his presence, you were all starting to leave to go home.

You stood still outside for a moment, sniffling but content, pulling up a route on your phone to walk back to the bus stop. It was a subtle way to wait for him to come out, so you could give him back his hoodie and brave the freezing journey back.

"You got somebody to walk you back?"

He leaned down to speak quietly, just to you. You watched his hand close the distance and rest on your shoulder. It made you stutter.

"Not- not officially."

Then he was walking you back to the bus stop, making a silent trek more difficult than it had to be if you had just gone by yourself. When you spared some meager glances at him, he had that same vibe about him- like he was preoccupied, displeased, and would be unpleasant if you tried to say anything.

It would be another five minutes for the bus.

He stood close to you, his arm against yours, because this bench was wet and you weren't going to repeat that mistake.

"Do you- uh," He rocked a little on his heels when you looked at him, "Do you not... like me?"

It was a staggering question. You held yourself, painfully aware that you were only standing because of his hoodie around you.

"Sure, I like you," You said in a stilted tone.

It wasn't enough and you knew it as it rolled off your tongue.

You cleared your throat. He looked away.

"I mean- I thought you hated me before today, so," You gave an empty laugh to help ease the tension.

"Hate you?" He turned towards you, hands in his pockets. It was the most emotion you had ever seen on his face.

Clearly, something was off. You squinted at him but only could hold it for a second, "Well, yeah, you're kinda... mean-,"

The shock on his face made you stumble over your words.

"But- uh, today you were so nice! Thank you, for your hoodie, that was very sweet-," You glanced around his face, confused, trailing off, "-of, you..."

He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, eyes closed, pained at your words. You felt astoundingly guilty, more cold than ever, in a way.

"I gave you my hoodie because I like you."

He put the hand back in his pocket, turning to face the street, watching the lamp posts with a forlorn air about him, "I've been tryin' to ask you out for months."

Your mouth hung open. You covered it, after a few seconds, with your hand.

Was that what all the looks meant? Was that seriously what he was getting at every time he spoke to you? Your face warmed- a welcome sensation.

"I... didn't know," You said simply, pressing up to his side.

It worked, thank god, and though it took him a second, he put a hefty arm around you.

"You were really that clueless?" He muttered, rubbing his warm face with his other hand.

The truth did feel pretty obvious in hindsight, but you reminded him, "You're more intimidating than you think."

In the quiet, the bus sighed around the corner.

"So... I can keep the hoodie?"

You looked up at him, excited at what you could see now as his nervousness. He pressed a hasty kiss to the top of your head as the bus rolled to a stop in front of you.

"Hell, yeah."

VIP

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

[todayisafridaynight]

mine face model comparisons

yakuza 3 (2009) -> kiwami 1 (2016) -> ishin (2023)

[bbkoolkatz]

you're pregnant... katsuki made sure to remind you every single time you leaned/bent over to pick something up, when you attempted to cook something for him before he gets back from work, or even if you tried to make the bed in the mornings... he fussed over the littlest things, refusing to let you exert yourself in any manner, other than the exercises he planned out for you...

then front door burst open, and katsuki stomped in, arms loaded with grocery bags, as he kicked off his boots. his gaze immediately moved from the smiled you greeted him with on your face, to the vacuum cleaner, still on, in your hand.

"the hell d'ya think yer doin'?" he barked, dumping the bags onto the kitchen counter. before you could even open your mouth to respond, he was already striding across the room, snatching the vacuum from your hands like it was some sort of threat. "are ya' outta yer damn mind?"

you blinked at him, caught completely off guard by his sudden outburst. "i was just cleaning, katsuki... relax."

"relax?" his voice jumped an octave, disbelief dripping from his tone. he jabbed a finger toward your growing belly, to remind you yet again, as if you weren't walking around with all day. "y' shouldn't be messin' with this crap!"

crossing your arms, you fought to keep calm. "babe i'm pregnant, not incapable... the living room was a disaster, and i wanted to do something about it."

"i don't give a damn about the livin' room!" he fired back, his hands flying as he gestured. "what if you tripped? or hurt yourself? or—"

"or what? did something to pass time until you came home?" you cut in, narrowing your eyes. "i wasn't doing anything dangerous, katsuki. it's vacuuming, not weightlifting."

his jaw tightened, the muscles visibly straining as his teeth ground together. "doesn't matter. this ain't happenin' again."

you raised a brow, letting out a disbelieving scoff. "oh, really?" you grabbed a pillow from the couch and lobbed it at him, square in the chest, and he caught it, his expression a mix of shock and annoyance. "you're being ridiculous!"

"ridiculous?" he repeated, his tone dropping into that familiar low growl that always made your heart skip. tossing the pillow aside, he pointed firmly at the couch. "sit. down. now."

you held your ground, the heat of irritation flaring up again. "katsuki—"

"don't 'katsuki' me!" he snapped, his stance shifting as his hands found his hips, and he watched you up and down, with that stubborn glint in his eyes... "you either sit, or i make you."

"you wouldn't dare," you shot back, glaring at him.

"wanna test me?" he challenged, stepping closer, daring you to defy him.

the sheer intensity of his protectiveness was as frustrating as it was endearing. with an exaggerated sigh, you flopped onto the couch. "there. happy?"

"for now," he grumbled, shooting you a final warning glance before heading toward the coffee table to start tidying up the clutter.

leaning back against the cushions, you watched him work, your earlier irritation slowly fading away, taking in the tension in his shoulders, the tight set of his jaw—he wasn't just being overbearing. he was scared, though he'd never admit it.

"you're way more stressed about this whole pregnancy thing than i am." you teased, breaking the silence.

"yeah, well," he muttered without looking at you, stacking magazines with unnecessary force, "i can't do much else, so i'm makin' sure you don' screw anythin' up."

a soft chuckle escaped your lips, "you're impossible," you teased, picking up a pillow to hold it against your belly.

"yeah, yeah," he replied, his tone softer now. he glanced your way briefly, the worry in his eyes undeniable. "i just don' want anythin' happenin' t' ya' or our kid."

your heart softened at his honesty. "i get it, kats."

"good." he said, returning to his self-appointed task. "now shut up 'n let me finish this. i'll do it better anyway."

you gasped dramatically, by the jab at your cleaning skills, and threw another pillow at him, landing it against the side of his face, the shocked glare that followed was sooo worth it. and he just watched as you held his brat in your belly, laughing at him.

mlist!

[jo-com]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ➛ Clingy

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Charles and Alex gets so clingy it’s adorable

Genre: Short Fluff, Throuple!

Tw: not anything in particular js some grammatical error and mind u this is not profread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ‧₊˚ ☁️ ─ ───────

Yn.cult just posted!

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, bellahadid and 2,389,210 others

Yn.cult 📍NYC!! Finally back at home💋

View all of the comments

Bellahadid No invites??

Yn.cult NEXT TIME I PROMISE

Bellahadid You better🤨

Alexandrasaintmleux Pretty as always ma fille

Yn.cult Stopp, you’re making me blush🤭

Charles_Lecler I think you’re pretty too!

Alexandrasaintmleux i said it first tho😐

User1 THE WAY THEY’RE FIGHTING OVER HER😭😭

User2 Nah cause i’d do the same ngl

Ex.bf Staying there too! Maybe we should hang out!

Alexandrasaintmleux yeah no.

Charles_Leclerc Agreed.

User3 he shoot his shot but got rejected twice😭😭

…

Yn.cult just posted!

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Yn.cult Omy to time square btw thanks for having me!💋

Tagged; Vougemagazine

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User4 How can one person look cute and hot at the same time

User5 it’s called the y/n effect✨

User6 Faxx☝🏻

User7 Nah who took the first pic?🤨

Vougemagazine lovely having you!

♥️ liked by the author

Alexandrasaintmleux Missing you so bad mon amour😢

…

Alex pouted, her brows knitted in a frown as she stared blankly at your post; constantly refreshing it to see whether or not you replied to her comment yet.

But every time she does, she gets disappointed—not seeing your reply just makes her grow fonder of your presence.

With a deep sighed, Alex turned off her phone and buried her face in y/n’s favorite pillow. The one she uses every time they sleep, the one that has her lingering smell on it, and the one Charles and Alex coddles up whenever they miss you. Which is constantly so they fight about whoever gets it.

Alex stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind was clouded with the thoughts of you. She just misses you so much it’s killing her. Literally.

The only reason you were out was because of your job; you love modeling that’s why they couldn’t have the guts to stop you from going. But now they just wished that they stopped you.

“Ughhhhh” she sighed, dragging the h along the tone of her boredness. Her voice echoing around the empty room which caught the attention of their boyfriend.

“What’s the matter, bébé?” Charles asked, peeking his head into the doorframe.

Alex lazily dragged her head up to face charles. “Everything’s cool, i just miss her is all” she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

Charles smiled emphatically, he knows what it’s like to miss you— he’s going through that too but he’s not taking it as hard like Alex though. He’s trying to act strong for the both of them, i mean someone has to, right?

Alex felt the couch dipped down as Charles sat besides her frame. “Should we call y/n and see what’s she’s up to?” He asked, rubbing soft circles around her back.

“No” she replied all muffled due to her head still facing down and resting on your pillow.

She wanted them to call you; to hear your sweet voice. Alex wanted nothing more than that, but then again she doesn’t want to disturb you and ruin your fun.

“Let’s just watch a movie and try to get our minds of her, yeah?” Sighing defeatedly, alex nodded her head and muttered a low ‘sure’ making Charles smile happily.

So that’s what they did, they watched a movie, and ate all the food they could find in the house until they fell asleep.

They woke up the very next day— saw your recent post and started to miss you like crazy again.

…

Yn.cult just posted

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Charles_Leclerc, urbff and 3,490,672 others

Yn.cult Miss my two pouty babies!💋

…

Got bored and wanted to make this, hope you guys enjoy itt!!

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART FIVE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, not much for this chapter, but as always, be cautious! a/n: so sorry for the wait, this chapter isn't as long as the others but i'm in the process of moving! i'll be moved in by late next week, so when that happens, i'll finally have more time to deliver longer parts and be more active! <3 masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“You let her get away.”

“S’not like I meant to, Cap,” Soap defended, scowling to himself.

The four men stood in Price’s quarters, all shoulders equally tensed and expressions grim. While Gaz and Ghost remained quiet thus far, the intensity rolled off of them menacingly. Soap could practically see the sourness fill the air.

“But you did,” Price reiterated, slamming his palm on the table. It shook the room, quill holders rumbling and threatening to spill onto the floor. “We already take a risk havin’ her on our ship until she grows accustomed to livin’ here. How could you be so careless?”

“Can ye blame her?” Soap spat back. The men fell silent with Price narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “The poor lass watched the four of us burn her village down. Then we took her in like a fit of scoundrels. I don’t blame her for runnin’ off the way she did.”

Price kept his mouth shut, pressed in a firm line. His shoulders were squared, an argument threatening to spill out, yet he didn’t encourage it. After all, Soap had a point, but they weren’t supposed to care. It was a simple part of being savages.

“She’ll understand eventually—“

“But she won’t,” Soap cut Price off, leaning his hands on the table to match the Captain’s. The two of them stared long and hard at one another. “We don’t even understand, so what makes ye think she will?”

“Soap,” Ghost warned. Soap’s gaze flickered over to the masked man, whose eyes were darkened with warning. Gaz shifted uncomfortably from beside him. “Watch your tongue.”

Soap opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Price raised his palm, requesting silence. The look on his face was unreadable, but the sign of authority was clear.

“You need to get your head out of the trenches, Soap,” Price warned. “Carin’ for her will only have you throwin’ yourself overboard, and that’s not somethin’ I can save you from. We needed a medic, and she was in the right place at the right time. That is all.”

“So ye don’t have the slightest bit of sympathy for her, s’that right, Cap?” Soap asked, eyes narrowing in on the Captain.

“There is no place in this world for sympathy,” Price responded meekly. “Let alone for her.”

“And for us?” Soap questioned, gesturing to the other two men in the room.

“You are my men,” Price grunted. “She is an unlucky woman that came from rags rather than riches. That is to no fault but her own. You forget your place, Soap.”

Though Price had remained calm, Soap could see the building aggravation. It was in the way the Captain’s hands clenched atop the table, his eyes glossed over with a heated fire from being rebutted.

“It seems yer forgettin’ yers as well, Captain,” Soap muttered bitterly.

The atmosphere was so thick, it was suffocating. Not a single man said another word, caught in a deadly stare down. It was a rarity to challenge Price’s authority, let alone over an unfortunate woman who they had ruined all on their own.

If Soap’s words affected Price, he didn’t make it known. Rather, his irritability was evidence, and he appeared to be fighting off any resentment towards his own crew.

“Get out,” Price uttered, voice low, but the notion was clear. “All of you.”

Nobody argued. Rather, they filed out one by one, Price’s door slamming on the way out.

Ghost grumbled when just the three of them remained, stalking off to his own quarters for the night.

Gaz joined Soap in watching the masked man leave. It wasn’t until he was fully out of sight did Gaz speak.

“You have a point, Soap,” Gaz said quietly, slapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Good luck makin’ Cap see that.”

Gaz gave him another squeeze of his hand before sauntering off himself, leaving Soap alone on the upper deck, the summer air suddenly feeling frigid and bitter.

The cell was suffocating you all over again. You missed the feel of a bed, the soft furs that lined Price’s bed that showered you in comforting warmth for the night, the flood of fresh air in your lungs.

Part of you felt like you took it for granted. The bitter part of you, though, knew that you deserved to have those things without being in the possession of a pirate.

The shoes Soap left you taunted you from the corner of the cell. They mocked you, called you ungrateful. It painted you with an uncomfortable guilt that settled deep in your bones.

You shouldn’t feel bad for a bunch of savages, but what kind of savages would think to surprise you with shoes, even picking out ones that you might like? You couldn’t speak for the others, but Soap had shed a light of humanity in a time where you needed it, and you had fucked that up.

Now, you wanted it more than ever. The cell was cold and unwelcoming, and you missed the taste of freedom you were given so shortly.

It felt as if you were back at square one. For the first day, nobody came to offer you food like before. Your stomach grumbled with a might that had you coiled over, silently crying into your hands. The second night was torturous, and it felt as if your own stomach was beginning to feast on itself.

The third night, however, was when you were finally graced with sympathy.

What greeted you, or more so who, had taken you by surprise. Expecting Soap or Gaz, or even Ghost to degrade you for being so stupid, you were instead faced with the Captain himself.

Price stood with a steaming bowl of stew and another bowl of simple rice. The sight of it had your mouth watering and your stomach gurgling in desperation.

“Hello, dove,” he offered, his tone surprisingly soft compared to the spitefulness he held days before. It still held authority, one you didn’t think would ever rid itself, but it wasn’t as angry as expected.

You gave him a nod in response but said nothing. A touch of dread crept up your spine. He was all too calm to you, who had nearly sent his men to unforeseeable death.

Price balanced the two bowls on one arm so he could unlock your cell door and step inside. Once in, he carefully placed the bowls on the ground in front of you where you sat, taking a cautious step back.

As much as you wanted to devour the food without. a second thought, you remained frozen and stubborn. You stared at the bowls of hot food before shifting up to look at him. When he gave you a nod in confirmation, that was all you needed to begin eating.

Eating was the nicer word. Demolishing was more accurate.

You didn’t bother to eat with the spoon given, rather you used your hands to grab a fistful of rice and guzzle it down. Grains of rice stuck to your face around your mouth, showing an embarrassing display. You were so hungry you didn’t care.

“Slow down,” Price ordered. You paused in your eating, glancing up at him. He didn’t look angry, but he did look a bit disturbed at your desperation.

Flustered, you swallowed the food down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Picking up the spoon in the stew, you ate it with eagerness but allowed yourself some decency.

Price was silent as you ate, standing with his arms crossed, watching. You were too enraptured in the meal to care, even if you look distasteful. The food had never tasted this good before, and you weren't sure whether it was because you were starving, or because somebody else cooked.

You imagined the pirates in the kitchen together, chopping vegetables and meat to place it in a pot, using an array of spices. Arguing over who got to do what, disagreeing with a choice of meal for the day.

It gave them a small sense of normality in your mind, even eliciting a small laugh from you. Price’s face contorted in confusion, wondering what could possibly be funny, especially in times like this. You, locked in a cell, given the worst hand the world could’ve given you, finding something joyful enough to laugh through it.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re laughin’?” Price gruffed.

You swallowed down your food, peering up at him from where you sat on the floor. “I was just imagining Soap and Ghost arguing over who gets to cook,” you confessed, looking back down at your food. “I apologize. It is not funny.”

You could feel Price’s stare. The air was silent, tense, before he ultimately broke it. “Ghost is the one that cooks,” he explained. “Used to be a butcher back in his day.”

“A butcher?” you repeated, pondering. The mask Ghost flaunted made him mysterious and concealed. You would’ve never imagined him as a butcher, though the more you thought about it, the more it clicked. “That seems to make quite a bit of sense, actually.”

“Does it?” Price hummed with the telltale sign of amusement. It was hardly evident. “Yes, I believe it does. Explains why he’s so good with a knife, aye?”

You grimaced at that. Ghost was certainly good in combat, that was something you could see from the jump. You just didn’t want to envision who and what he uses it on.

“I believe we got off on the wrong foot,” Price began. The words took you by surprise. “Might have ruffled too many of your little feathers too soon.”

“That is a severe understatement,” you muttered. Price shot you a look, successfully shutting you up.

“We do not normally have others on our ship. If we have treated you with hostility, then I apologize. You must understand the walls we have built up, you see,” he explained.

“Then why have you taken me if you are going to treat me as a mere rat?” you asked. He sniffed, feigning disinterest. “I thought you appointed me as a medic. It does not feel as though you are true to your word. Is there perhaps another reason for kidnapping me that you are not telling me?”

Price was quiet, eyes wandering off elsewhere. He appeared in thought, as if debating something heavily in his mind.

“No,” he finally said, hesitating. “You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I do not apologize for taking you, but I do… sympathize. Perhaps I should’ve been kinder.”

“Perhaps,” you repeated, albeit a tad bitterly. Price was unfazed by the subtle resentment you held. He didn’t seem to care at all. He was a hard man to read, even harder than Ghost. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that was dangerous.

Price cleared his throat, the aura of awkwardness smothering him. It was evident to you that he wasn’t used to being kind and having to resolve with someone. You briefly wondered what made him change his mind.

“You are right,” he continued. “We took you in to be our medic. Medics cannot work in a cell.”

Price took a step back to leave the cell, yet the door remained open. He gestured for you to step out, to join him. You were weary, slowly standing from your spot and taking a skeptical step out of the cell.

“I will give you the choice in who you wish to stay with until we can arrange a space for you to sleep.” Price began stepping up the stairs that led to the upper deck, so you silently followed. “If you wish to stay with me again, that is fine. But if you wish to stay with Gaz or Soap, that can be arranged as well.”

“No Ghost?” you asked in, dare you say, amusement.

“Unless you would like to be strangled in your sleep, I would not advise it,” he responded.

“That was a jest, Captain. I know how to pick my battles.”

Price paused in front of the doors to the upper deck, turning to you. He stared for a long moment, before you saw the tiniest of smiles play at his lips. It was buried under his facial hair, but from the slight crinkle in his eyes, you knew.

“You’re quite the wise bird, I’ll give you that,” he mused, before opening the doors. “Up you go.”

The moonlight soaked into your skin the moment you stepped out of the brig. It was inviting, basking you in the warmth you so craved. The air was crisp, and you breathed it in heavily through your nostrils, your body immediately faltering in relief.

Oh, how you missed the outside. Though your stay in the brig was much shorter than when you first arrived, it was still just as alleviating to get a taste of being human again.

“You will stay with me for the night,” he explained, guiding you across the creaky decks. “The others are already in their rooms. Tomorrow, you can decide who you prefer.”

You gave him a nod in acknowledgment, following him quietly to his quarters. When you arrived, the familiar scent of musk and cinnamon invaded your nostrils. For a pirate, it was a comforting smell, and you found a strange solace in it.

“I’m sure you wish to bathe, yes?” he asked.

A bath sounded heavenly. To wipe the grime and sweat off your skin, to feel clean again. You would’ve jumped into the dark sea if it meant bathing.

“You do not mind?” you questioned, suspicious.

“You’ll be sleepin’ in my cot for the night. I’d prefer if you were unsoiled. No bad blood, aye?”

Price’s boots were heavy against the floors as he made his way to the back of his quarters, where a lone curtain hung. Pulling it back, he exposed a wooden bowl, large enough to fit you, but certainly a squeeze for him.

A barrel stood behind the bath, and Price made haste to lift it with ease. Water began to pour out of the spout, slowly but surely filling the makeshift tub.

While he worked, your eyes wandered to glance around his quarters. When staying in it previously, you didn’t have the gall to be curious. Now that the two of you were on good enough terms to be acquaintances for now, you allowed yourself to be a bit nosy.

The walls were littered with pinned up maps, all varying in land. You hadn’t a clue where everything was, so none of it made sense to you. However, upon looking over to his desk, you saw another map, one unlike the others.

This one was written on with the ink of a quill. You weren’t sure the location, however, it seemed to be a mixture.

Over some of the islands graphed on the map, a large X was drawn in its place. They were crossed out with the ink, covering up the names printed over the location, deeming it impossible to read.

However, two locations were circled rather than crossed out. One was in the middle of the sea, not a piece of land or island in sight. The other was circled around a small island, tucked away from the Mainland, its name unknown. Beside it, a scrap piece of paper sat.

“The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

Washed away to land and shore

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

Find the one that you shall seek

to end the curse of Shadow’s Peak.”

As you finished reading, a large hand came into view, slamming over the poem. Price loomed over you, leaning against the table.

“Go and bathe,” he ordered. “I will leave you alone to do your bidding and return when you’re done.”

Jostled by the surprise appearance, you offered a meek nod, sauntering off to the tub. As Price left, he rolled up the map as well as the poem, tucking them under his arm and leaving no trace of what you witnessed behind. He had something to hide, it was clear, but you couldn’t decipher the meaning of the passage you read.

Perhaps he was simply a writer. It would explain why he seemed defensive that you saw it, but it wouldn’t explain the map. He also didn’t seem the type to sit at his desk and meddle with written poetry. He was a Captain, and his priorities lied with the men on his ship and the thievery of neighboring villages.

Now left alone in the quarters, you willed yourself into the bath, sinking into the water. It wasn’t warm nor cold, but it was relaxing anyway, biting away the tension in your muscles. You were in desperate need of it, and you were grateful you and Price were at a standstill where he allowed you the pleasure.

While you tried to rid yourself of what you saw, it kept creeping in in waves, burdening you with questions unanswered. Even after you scrubbed away the caked dirt until your skin was raw and changed into clean garments that Price tugged out for you, the sense of unease never went away. You felt tainted, like a lingering darkness was coursing through your veins and oozing from your skin.

The garments you wore were large. They overtook your body, swallowing you whole, but they were much better in comparison to the rags that hung from your body, dirtied with nasty impurity. You didn’t know how to feel about the Captain after everything, but he was showing you humility, and that was enough for you right now. It was the best you could make out of being kidnapped by the four of them and thrown in a life of chaos and uncertainty.

As you tucked yourself into Price’s cot, you took one last glance to the maps that remained on the walls. None were like the one you had seen, not a scribble nor blotch tainting the paper. The one Price held was special, and you knew you’d be fighting tooth and nail in order to find out. Until then, you could let yourself relax. After all the torment you’d been through, you deserved a moment of peace before everything imploded once again.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Your Specialty (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer sees his significant other comforting a child and it makes him wonder. A/N: Written for my best friend on her birthday. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Minor self-deprecation, implied difficult childhood, crying Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

Spencer loves you every day. There is never a doubt or a hesitation. With each glance, he finds something new to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why he is right to love you.

But there are some moments where even he, in his seemingly infinite wisdom, is unable to put into words the way he feels when it comes to you. In those moments, all he can do is silently soak in the unknowing.

It was a quiet moment, all things considered. There was no more bad guys to be caught, no more bloodshed to be had. Still, there were tears, as there usually were when you were around.

It wasn’t your fault. You just have a way about you that makes people feel… loved. Sometimes for the first time.

Spencer peers through his open office door to find you. You are on your knees, eyes locked with the young boy standing in front of you.

His small body shakes with incoherent sobs. He is held steady only by your gentle hands cupping his face. Despite the sight, you are smiling. A calm, subtle curve that holds him up in another way.

From where he is, Spencer can’t hear your words. But he can still feel the relief. He finds himself mirroring you both, with deep inhales fighting against the knot his throat. The air comes out warm and trembling.

In that moment, as he watches you comfort something small, he is a little boy again. He is the one lifting his arms in a silent request to be loved in a simple way.

And he can feel it. He feels your arms as they wrap around the little boy and lift him gently from the ground.

The feeling is almost too much, but he doesn’t look away. He watches and waits patiently for you to let the little boy go.

He waits for you to notice, to quickly come to him before your own trembling hands are noticed by the boy being carried away to what Spencer still hopes will be a happily ever after.

Spencer watches you the entire time. His own mind races, struggling still to find words to explain the feeling in his chest.

He’d almost gotten it when you interrupt the thought with a laugh.

“What is it?” you ask.

Any eloquence vanishes and is replaced with a stammer.

“You’re uh… you’re good at that,” he says. "Comforting kids."

Somehow, it sounds better than it did in his head.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the compliment, you glance over your shoulder to see the boy still watching you.

You recognize the same expression on your lover’s face.

“Kids are easy to love,” you answer.

He accepts your humility. He meets the modesty with his own typical self-deprecation.

“You should’ve seen me as a kid.”

Beneath the words, you hear the uncertainty. That stubborn, relentless fear that there is something rotten to be found in his heart.

You narrow your eyes as you inspect him. His shoulders square under your scrutiny. You look at him, carefully reviewing each wrinkle and freckle. You tilt your head to look at him in another way.

And you find nothing at all rotten.

“I would’ve liked that,” you tell him in earnest.

Emboldened, but still afraid, Spencer dares to take another step forward.

“What do you think you would’ve said?” he says like it’s a joke.

This time, your pause is a couple beats longer.

You look at the man in front of you and try to imagine him with teeth too big for a tiny frame. You imagine unruly curls and thick, crooked glasses perched over innocent eyes.

You look at the man you love and you see it. A small boy staring up at you in his oversized suit. Always trying to be both smaller and bigger than he was meant to be.

“I’d tell him,” you say, unsure of your own words, “that he’s strong and clever, and he shouldn’t have to try so hard to prove it to everyone.”

Spencer sucks in a breath that betrays his aloof demeanor. The words hit him like a swift blow to the stomach. But even with the pain, he hopes you’re not finished.

You’re not.

“I’d tell him that I know he’s trying his hardest, and sometimes things are bigger than us and…”

You bite your tongue to stop tears from welling. You breathe in sharply, reaching up to place both palms against his reddened cheeks. You laugh as they shift towards a goofy grin despite tears.

“I’d tell him that everything’s going to be okay,” you say confidently.

“Oh,” he chuckles; a sad but necessary sound.

"Yeah."

Gentle thumbs wipe each droplet that manages to spill from big golden brown eyes. The same as you had moments before, you catch what you can of his sadness and turn it to comforting warmth across his cheek.

Spencer bites his lip, looking down at your feet before daring to look at you again. Because when he does, he loses his breath and his sense once more.

“I, uh... I think he would’ve liked that,” he confesses.

“I know,” you whisper with a genuine remorse. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Spencer accepts the apology but refuses to stay in the past any longer.

“But you’re here now,” he says quickly.

“Yeah, I am,” you laugh in return. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

But letting you go is the furthest thing from his mind. In fact, he pulls you closer until there is nothing but atoms between you. Strong arms embrace you and his clever words muffle against your hair.

“I wouldn’t even dare to try.”

Together, you settle into the silence. You share your warmth without restraint. Just two bodies swaying in a simple and symbiotic embrace. You enjoy the comfort, the company, the lack of need for words to describe it all.

And once you feel he’s had his fill, you sigh against his shirt.

“You know, I’m going to get through to that little boy eventually.”

Spencer halts his step as he starts to laugh.

“Is that a threat?” he asks.

Without moving from your place against him, you smile.

“Watch out, Dr. Reid,” you hum. “I’ve been told I’m good at this.”

Spencer accepts the warning with a smile.

“Yes," he chuckles. "Yes, you are.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, bro - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."

Read Part Two here!

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?

Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 

Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro

You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.

Bro.

It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.

Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 

Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 

You close your eyes with a sigh. 

"Thumb war."

"What?"

You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.

"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 

Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 

As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.

You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 

“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 

You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.

"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  

"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 

"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 

The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.

Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."

Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.

But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 

For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 

As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”

Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re annoying.”

You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 

“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 

It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.

"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 

"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –

Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.

When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”

Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”

Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

[tender-rosiey]

hinting — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: thank @callmemirro for the bby fever idea but the video of the baby is what fueled the fire even more

you have a feeling that something has been plaguing your husband’s mind. it’s not a bad thing—like that way too expensive pea-sized handbag he wanted to get just to clown it.

it’s actually good and adorable especially with the way it gets him all smiley and bubbly.

you also started to notice when exactly he gets into these moods or rather regarding what.

for example, you were browsing the store once for new clothes. you and satoru agreed to split to search on a wider scale for discounts.

so when he came back, all smiley and excited, you expected a 50% sale or something. instead, you got surprised with possibly the cutest baby pajama ever.

“what do you think, babe? it’s so cute especially the little smiling duck in the middle!”

you take it from him, examining it up close. truthfully, the material is pretty good and it is soft on the skin. there is only one problem though.

you look up to your husband with a smile, “but, honey, we don’t have a baby.”

satoru deflates for a single second before standing up straight, proud, “hey, now! we can always get it for future plans,” he ogles you, but you quickly pinch his nose.

“haha, very funny.” you start pushing the cart towards that one outfit you liked with satoru following close by.

“y/n, I am serious!” he whines as his hand finds home on your waist.

“and I am a dinosaur in disguise.”

he gasps, “really?!”

“no.”

and that happened more than once.

another thing is that satoru has been obsessed with baby videos.

you remember that one time you were chilling on your beloved couch when he came stumbling into the room, clutching his phone and almost dying of laughter, “y/n! y/n! look at this baby!”

satoru is wheezing as he replays the video over and over again. his uncontrollable laughter is music to your ears, but you feel that you’re going to have to take him to a therapist or a mental hospital.

he laughs loudly for sure, but he has been like this for 4 hours, showing you a baby video every minute or so.

you look at him with sympathy as he cackles, “it was so ready to square up too—huh, what’re you doing?”

you pull him into your embrace and he immediately melts, arms wrapping around you in an instant.

you gently rub his back and press a kiss to the top of his head, “my poor baby,” you coo and gojo lights up: have you finally understood what he has been hinting at?

you cup his face and kiss his cheeks, “work must’ve taken quite a toll on you; we can go to the hosp—“

“hey! that’s just mean!”

he huffs moving away and giving you his back, but then he looks back at you, “but the baby was cute, right?”

you laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder, “yeah, in a way, it reminded me of megumi.”

“you’re so right! even as a first-grader, he was so ready to fight anyone.”

another memorable incident happened when you were in a park, taking a walk with your darling husband.

it was peaceful, accompanied by the squeals of children, the coolness of the ice cream, and the comfort of your husband’s presence. speaking of which, where’s that guy?

you look around, searching for a very prominent walking paintbrush. you blink once, twice, and he is finally in front of you with a huge grin, “y/n, look at this cutie pie I just met!”

you soften at the sight of the giggling baby in his arms. the little baby girl reaches out for you and you cradle her in your arms.

cooing at her, you rock gently while making silly faces and it makes her laugh a laugh from her belly. it also makes a certain someone sport the most lovesick smile known to existence.

smiling, you look at your husband, “where did you find her? was she lost?”

your husband sweatdrops and looks to the side, glasses showing off his bright blue eyes, “about that—“

“there he is, officer! he took my baby!”

so yeah, something is up with your husband, and you have had enough with him hiding it from you. god is on your side today as you’re finally able to back him into a corner and finally interrogate him.

“satoru, is there something you want to tell me?” you ask the man, breathless after running around the school for a couple of hours.

silence occupies the room before your husband finally gives in.

he takes a deep breath and hugs you, resting his head on your shoulder, “I want…” he mumbles, “I want a baby, please?”

you are silent for a moment then you make him look you in the eyes, “really?”

“really,” he says, voice unwavering, “I know that it might be scary, but we have experience with tsumiki and megumi, and they turned out just fine!” he starts rambling, “except for megumi, he can be bratty sometimes, but point is!” he holds your hands in his, “I want to start a family with you, but if you don’t want—“

“okay.”

“—to I completely understand and…wait—did you just say okay?”

“yeah,” you beam, “let’s have a baby. you could’ve said that right away, silly.”

he stares at you for a bit, “do you have any idea how LONG I HAVE BEEN—“

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawings @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @mx-0-child @that-mom-friend-dot-com

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[targaryenluvs]

— SOLIDIFY

pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader

summary: yourself and luke are navigating your new relationship. with the two of you being popular amongst the camp, eyes were on you always. some tended to wander to places reserved for the other.

warnings: creepy boy, protective luke & percy (yk the drill), arguments, fighting/violence, flirting, luke being a tease, cutesy patchups

a/n: this does kind of remind of a fic i already have so let’s just say i drew inspo 😋 also i’m a sucker of mean luke hehehe - kind of regretting making it into a series rather than one long fic

wordcount: 880 words

taglist: @songofthesuns @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv - finale out now!!

ii. solidify

you were luke’s, even if the guy infront of you didn’t know it. luke knew it, you knew it, and that’s all that mattered. luke definitely knew it, by the amount of times he’d kissed you all over, hands wandering—

besides the point.

but luke had composure, something he prided himself on. he was able to keep a pokerface when need be. and he really did need it. this boy was pushing his buttons, and seemingly trying to undo yours.

luke watched on for a bit, trying his hardest to keep up the smile on his face that everyone knew. thankfully, he didn’t need to step in this time. as annoying percy’s protectiveness over you waynhave been, it had its perks. such as percy being annoyed by the same things as luke.

“hey y/n, i’m feeling kind of tired. you mind walking me back to our cabin?” percy stood behind you as you turned his way, laughter from behind you caused a scowl to come over your face. “what’re you laughing at?” the boy crossed his arms, “the fact that this kid can’t walk alone.” percy’s fist was itching to connect with this guys face, but he knew you could handle it.

“this kid, is my brother. and if you have something else to say you sure as hell better be ready for someone to talk back.” you were eye to eye now, and you could see him practically shrink back into himself. “that’s what i thought.” the campers rung out in ‘oohs’ as you turned to guide percy away.

what you didnt anticipate was for him to fight back. “the hell do you think you’re doing?” his fingers clung onto your wrist, and that was more than enough for luke to punch him square in the jaw. but that wasn’t enough, with each leg over the boys waist he continued to raise his fist, over and over.

until eventually you managed to pry him off of the boy. but the damage was done, he was currently cradling his wrists and crying out, “he broke it!”

“you idiot. come on.” percy was in front of the two of you, deciding to say out of the way as you reprimanded him, “and again, i can handle myself just fine!”

“is it so wrong of me to want to protect you?” luke shouted as the two of you stopped in your tracks. “you’re my— best friend.” thankfully your back was facing percy, the smile on your face was wide. “i know, and i thank you for wanting to protect me. but i can fight my own battles luke. don’t do it again.” percy furrowed his eyebrows, “so can i.” you laughed, “no you can’t percy.”

once you’d settled percy in you walked luke to his empty cabin. luke’s smugness was irking you, “why are you so happy?” luke shrugged, “hurt him good, why wouldn’t it be happy?” you shoved him inside, your head was hurting from the whole encounter. “happy? you’re happy for hurting someone?” luke’s hands rested on either cheek, his eyes seemed darker than usual, “he hurt you, and i can’t let that happen.” you shook your head.

“seriously, what the hell was that?” you were so close to choking him, and not in a fun way. “what was what? me defending you? that guys hands were all over you, i broke them, he won’t be using them again. problem solved.” you walked him over to his bed before pushing him down. luke’s own hands were bruised, the moonlight seemed to dance over them, dried blood and shallow cuts. you inspected them with care, before grabbing a first aid kit.

“i’m not incompetent yknow? i can handle myself just fine. you undermined me out there, im a camp counsellor, i’m a leader. you made me look like i need saving!” he exhaled, whilst you wiped over his knuckles with wipes before walking away to throw the rubbish out. “i didn’t mean to, i just— i saw him. and his hands on you and i couldn’t just sit back.” you were situated between his legs, his hands came up to rest on your hips.

your hand tangled in his hair, thumb rubbing up and down as he rested his head against your stomach. “i know, i know. it’s sweet, that you want to protect me but you can’t treat me like a kid. i’m your—.” the silence between the two of you was comforting, never awkward.

“say it.” his voice was soft and sweet, almost desperate, he looked up at you and your own heart was threatening to leap out of your chest. just one look from luke was more than enough to send your head spiralling. “i’m your girlfriend, luke. and you’re my—.”

“boyfriend, your loving, loyal, extremely hot and amazing swordsmen of a boyfriend. and i’m pretty good in other areas too.” you hid your head in your hands, the heat in your cheeks was annoying you, “nah, i wanna see you.”

he managed to lift you up, despite your squeals of protest, and lay down with you on the bed, “i’ll protect you any day, anytime.” luke peppered your face with kisses as you begged him to stop, “never.”

you groaned, “god you’re cheesy luke!”

“only for you.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 6)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

One Year Earlier…

The car door opened just a crack, an attempt to keep the torrential rain from getting on the nice leather interior. Your mother struggled to enter the front seat without bringing the elements with her.

“Just get in,” Ward encouraged. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to get an invoice for detailing,” she explained.

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

She gave him a knowing look, now fully inside the car and safe from the storm.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” your mother said.

The windshield wipers squeaked against the glass as they swished rapidly. Your mother folded her hands in her lap as she took in the luxurious vehicle with judgment. Ward picked up on her distaste, but simply chuckled and shook his head. He had given up any attempt on getting her to like him back when they were in high school together. She had always thought him a showman, putting on a display she wasn’t interested in watching. He may have the rest of the island fooled, but she saw straight through him.

She flinched as he reached across her, calming when she realized he was only opening the glovebox. He pulled out a stack of envelopes held together with a thick rubber band. He dropped them in her lap unceremoniously, right on top of her folded hands. She didn’t pick the stack up right away, looking down at the one on top with a deep sigh.

“How many?” She asked.

“Seventeen,” he placed his hands on the wheel as if he was bracing himself. “They’re still coming once a week, like clockwork.”

“Have you read them?” She mumbled, still staring down, her eyes running over the handwriting, a prominent frown on her face as she studied the familiar little curve at the top of each letter “a”.

Ward’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, as they arrived at the conversation he was waiting for. “No, I haven’t, and neither should you. No good would come of that.”

Faint tears began to form at the crinkled edges of her eyes. The moment she felt them she pushed them away, sitting up straight and shoving the stack of letters into her purse. 

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, clutching her purse firmly to her lap.

Ward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have this conversation before losing his cool completely.

“We did what we had to,” he reminded her. “Look, I don’t like it either. But it was what’s best for both of them. And it’s too late now. We need to move forward. They will, too…eventually. Trust me.”

She looked him square in the face as she grabbed the door handle, preparing herself for the mad dash back to her own car across the vacant parking lot.

“I will never trust you, Ward,” she swore.

With that, she opened the door. She had one leg out, ready to hop down from the truck bed, when he grabbed her arm aggressively, making her gasp.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“I already have.”

Now…

Rafe looked up at you nervously, his eyes running up and down your face, looking for any reaction. He was on one knee in front of you, holding up the promise ring you were sure you’d never see again. The sight was so surreal you didn’t know how to react.

You were slowly coming back to earth after the heavenly feeling of being intimate with Rafe again. All of the emotion that had clouded your mind was clearing and the events of the past few days came back into view. Rafe spitting on the waiter he’d thrown in the dirt. The disgust on his face when you’d first said his name on the beach at the island club. The way he had pushed himself off of you just a few hours ago before sending you running out the door crying. The man who was kneeling in front of you right now was not the boy who had first presented you with this ring over two years ago.

But still, he had the same desperate vulnerability in his eyes now as he’d had then. That day you had thought surely the next time he presented you with a ring, it would have a diamond on it and he’d be asking you to marry him.

The image of you in a white dress, Rafe waiting for you expectantly at the end of the aisle, flashed across your mind. Suddenly, it wasn’t you in the white dress you saw, but your mother. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to the moment, realizing that your mom’s rehearsal dinner was tonight and you had told her you would make it. She said she didn’t want you to, but she always said things she didn’t mean, and this might be your last chance to fix things with her.

“What time is it?” You blurted out.

Rafe blinked back at you in surprise. He had prepared for either a rejection or an embrace, not to give you the time.

“I…uh, what?” 

“I left my phone at your house,” you explained. “Do you know what time it is?”

Rafe reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring and checked his phone.

“It’s four,” he informed you.

“Shit,” you walked around him and headed towards the door of the lifeguard tower. “I have to go!”

Rafe stood, shoving the ring back in his pocket. “What? Why?”

He followed you out the door of the small office. Once you were on the porch of the tower, you looked around quickly for any sign of the beach patrol you had been dodging, but the coast was clear. You turned back to him, blushing slightly at the sight of him hurrying to buckle his belt.

“It’s my mom’s rehearsal dinner,” you told him. “I need to get ready, I don’t even have anything to wear. Shit!” 

You descended the steps of the tower quickly, side stepping the rotted spots in the wood. Rafe followed you down, catching up with you at the bottom and rounding you so he was blocking your path to the beach’s exit.

“You’re still going?” He asked, his tone a swirl of anger and hurt.

You blinked back at him, feeling like the answer was obvious.

“Yes? It’s my mom, Rafe,” you said defensively.

“Didn’t she kick you out?” He questioned.

“Kind of. I mean not technically…it’s complicated, Rafe. You know how she is,” you struggled to explain. 

Rafe rolled his eyes slightly before looking over your shoulder, nodding.

“Fine,” he said. “C’mon, you can come get ready at my place. You can borrow something from Sarah.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved that his frustration hadn’t escalated any further. 

You rode back to Tannyhill on the back of his bike, wearing his helmet, relieved that your identity was shielded from the nosy looks from his neighbors as you passed. You wondered how many girls they’d seen Rafe bring back to the house on his bike over the last two years. Your stomach twisted at the thought and you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, your arms around his abdomen.

You followed Rafe into the house wordlessly, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails, wondering what had suddenly made him go so quiet. Once inside the door, Rafe dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and walked toward the kitchen. You stood there for a moment, taking in the house. You ran your hand along the back of the couch, Rose had gotten a new one, and you hated that anything had changed, even something so small. 

After a few minutes, when Rafe still hadn’t come back from the kitchen, you took it upon yourself to walk up to Sarah’s room, searching through her expansive closet for something to wear. You settled on a short black dress with spaghetti straps. It’s certainly not something your mother would have picked for you to wear, but showing up underdressed was better than not showing up at all, right?

Rafe skulked in the kitchen for a while, slowly twirling the glass of bourbon he’d poured himself, but not taking a sip. He couldn’t believe you were still going to your mother’s rehearsal dinner. He had been naive, thinking that your mother kicking you out and the moment you’d shared in the lifeguard tower had finally sealed your return to him. Maybe you would never fully be his, maybe he would spend forever fighting to be first in your life. He hadn’t fought enough before, he should’ve gone after you, should’ve tracked you down. He threw back the bourbon in the glass and slammed it onto the counter with a sense of purpose.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara you found in Sarah’s bathroom, Rafe appeared in the reflection behind you. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, watching you. Once you had finished applying the makeup, you stood and met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. You offered him a small smile, but his face remained still as solemn eyes held your gaze. Your smile faded when you felt the intensity of his look. You stood there for what felt like hours, just looking at each other. A look full of history, of unspoken words. The more you looked at him, the quieter the noise in your head became. All of the questions, the worry, the mystery faded and all that was left was him.

After a while, Rafe dropped his crossed arms and stood up straight, now folding his hands behind his back, emphasizing his firm chest under his t-shirt. He began walking toward you slowly, still not dropping his eyes from yours in the mirror. Goosebumps rose on your skin and your heart rate spiked, but you didn’t dare look away.

Once behind you, his chest less than an inch from your back, he dipped his head low and placed the softest kiss on your shoulder. The gesture was so tender, watery tears pricked the corner of your eyes. The brush of your soft skin against his lips undid him, and now it was him who was sniffing you, nose nuzzled into your temple, inhaling the scent he had craved so desperately for years. The glory of you invading his senses undid him and he had to place his hands on your waist to steady himself.

You leaned back into him as one of his arms snaked around you, his hand flattening against your stomach. He began peppering kisses up and down your neck, and you let your head drop back to lean into him. His other hand slowly crept up your torso until it rested over one of your breasts. It wasn’t crass or harsh, nothing like the way he fondled you on the couch just this morning. His touch was revervent, the way you hold something you lost and thought you would never find. 

You watched the embrace in the mirror and he continued dragging his lips over your skin. He was wrapped around you like a snake, completely enfolding you. Your eyes lingered on his arms, enchanted by the sight of his large, veiny hands on your body. Those hands that you knew so well, even after all this time, you could pick them out of any lineup. You never managed to unlearn him. You’d know him forever, even if you never saw him again. Your heart swelled with emotion at the thought.

The sensation of Rafe nipping at your earlobe pulled you from your thoughts and your knees went weak. You reached an arm up behind you and ran your hand over his shaved head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. 

“Thought you hated my hair,” he chuckled into your ear.

“It’s just different,” you breathed as he squeezed you under his hands just slightly. “You’re different.”

At this, he looked up and met your eyes in the mirror, his chin rested on your shoulder. He looked bashful.

“Bad different?” He asked, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you admitted honestly.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” He teased, easing some of the intensity of the moment. 

You smiled back at him in the mirror and he ate it up, heart soaring at his ability to change your mood with just his words. Maybe if he kept talking he could convince you to stay, to ditch your mom’s rehearsal dinner and never leave his side again. 

“I dunno,” you shrugged, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would pick up on the hint that you want him to take control of the moment.

“Would this help?” He grips your breast tighter, making you gasp at the sweet pressure, 

“Mhm, I want more,” you closed your eyes and laid your head back full on his shoulder, surrendering to him.

He pulled the thin strap of your dress between his teeth, dragging it off slowly to reveal more of you. Once the strap has fallen fully down your arm, he licks a strip up your neck. When his warm tongue filled the shell of your ear, you sighed blissfully. When he pulled his mouth away and blew gentle air against the moisture he had just left, you fully swooned, swaying into him. 

He rocked with you and started rubbing his hand over your stomach, your hips, the curve of your ass.

“You want me to keep touching you like this?” He asked, genuine interest in your answer.

“Yes, I love it, Rafe,” you said. “I need you.”

“Tell me where you need me, baby,” he groaned into your ear, your eyes now squeezed shut so you could take in the perfect sound of his voice. 

“Everywhere,” you were losing your ability to stay engaged in the banter, the feeling of his hands too electrifying.

Rafe notices how you’re fading, and decides not to ask any more questions. The hand on your ass moved further down, to the hem of your dress. He ran the pads of his fingers over the soft, plush skin of your upper thigh. He lifted the hem up until he found the edge of your panties, hooking his thumb over the waistband and leaving it there for a moment. He kissed your jaw sloppily and started dipping the rest of his fingers under the thin fabric one at a time. 

You braced yourself on the edge of the sink with one hand, while the other slid down his forearm until you found his hand, guiding it to feel the wetness now dripping between your thighs.

The realization of how wet he made you mixed with the feeling of your silky cunt hit him like a truck. He groaned and pushed the hardness in his pants against your ass. Your other hand shot to the sink edge for stability as his hand took over, his fingers beginning to dance over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you moaned.

“This what you want?” He asked, his voice huskier than it had been a minute ago, as the feeling of your soft curves pushing against his erection sent shock waves through his body.

“Baby…” was all you could bring yourself to say.

“Missed hearing you call me that,” he confessed.

You opened your eyes to meet his, but saw that his were now clenched shut as he focused on making you feel good. In the reflection, you caught the clock on the wall, your mom’s rehearsal dinner was beginning soon.

“Rafe,” you tried to pull his attention.

“Y/n,” he moaned, misunderstanding your tone.

“No, Rafe,” you tapped his arm to get him to open his eyes. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”

Rafe shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He said it a bit harshly, his fear manifesting itself into anger as it so often did.

“But-” you started to protest, but were cut off when he sped up the movement of his fingers, pinching slightly and rolling your sensitive clit between his fingers. “Fuck!” You nearly yelled as your body jolted forward.

“That’s it, just let me finish what I started,” Rafe said, his thumb taking over circles on your clit while his first finger reached down to dip into you.

You tried to talk, tried to tell him how good it felt, but no words came from your open mouth. Your knuckles were white from your tight grip on the sink. You pushed back into Rafe, wanting to share the pleasure you were feeling with him, but he pulled his hips away from you.

“Nah, not right now,” he said. “I’m on the clock here, baby, I gotta focus.”

He plunged a second finger into you and curled them upward, finally hitting your favorite spot that he knew so well. He had spent so long memorizing how to unravel you, he couldn’t forget if he tried.

Soon enough, he succeeded, and you unraveled completely. Rafe watched with unblinking eyes as your orgasm had you bent over the sink, crying out his name. He pulled you toward him, holding you up, as he whispered reassurances into your ear.

“Rafe, I-“ you cried.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed. “I always got you.”

Finally, your breathing steadied and you came back to earth. You turned in his arms and his hands rested on your lower back. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a grateful kiss to his lips.

“You still my girl?” He asked earnestly.

“Always.” 

You said it without really thinking, and immediately wondered if you shouldn’t have. Rafe clearly couldn’t see the doubt on your face as his own was filled with relief and affection.

Just as he leaned forward to kiss you back, his phone dinged in his pocket. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption and you giggled, delighted that he only wanted to be with you right now. He reluctantly checked the text.

“Your car is ready,” he explained.

“Oh, good!” you had honestly forgotten that your mom’s car was even gone, the morning feeling like a lifetime ago. 

“I’ll go get it for you,” he offered. “You might, uh, wanna redo your makeup.”

You turned quickly to look at your reflection in the mirror, the mascara you had just applied was smeared from the sweat Rafe had caused you to break.

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I look like a racoon!”

“A cute one, though,” he said, planting a quick kiss to your cheek before exiting the room. 

You blushed at the simplicity of the moment, and the sweetness of the comment. For a moment, you let your mind drift into some delusional future where this is your home, and you are his girl, and none of the past two years happened. 

But they did happen. Your bubble burst and you were suddenly back in the real world. This isn’t your house, and there were so many obstacles in the path to the future you were still inexplicably clinging to. The biggest of them being that you weren’t sure you actually knew the man you just promised yourself to. The man who yells and fights and gets arrested. The man who managed to break your heart and stitch it back together in the span of a few hours.

The man who never answered any of your letters.

It started so innocently, you wandered down the spiral stairs to the floor Rafe’s room was on. You walked around his room with your arms crossed, taking in the familiarity of it. You opened his top dresser drawer, immediately closing it again, feeling strange about poking around. But you had to know.

You began rifling, opening every drawer and digging through it, not even bothering to set them back to the way they were when you were done. You told yourself you were just looking for the letters, curious if he had read them or kept them sealed, or even ripped them to shreds. But if you were being honest, this wasn’t just about the letters. Rafe still hadn’t given you the answers you were looking for, about what happened to his dad or how he ended up getting arrested. You were too scared to bring it up again, the whiplash of his mood swings today making you dizzy. You figured if you were going to get answers, you’d have to dig for them yourself.

You made it through Rafe’s room without finding anything significant. He had a few joints rolled up in his desk drawer, but there was nothing that satisfied your craving for understanding. 

You repeated your desperate actions in his bathroom, then Ward and Rose’s room, where it appeared Rafe had been sleeping, a mystery you’d solve another time. You made your way to Ward’s office, the room you were never allowed in when you were kids. You dug through the desk drawers, the filing cabinets, the old antique hutch - nothing. Then you remembered a time in high school when you and Rafe had snuck in here, needing to find some spare cash for concert tickets you had begged him for. Rafe had snuck into his dad’s safe, behind the painting on the wall. 

You slowly walked over to the painting, wondering if this was officially going too small. You didn’t remember the passcode to the safe, so maybe it was pointless, but something in you told you to try. You slowly pulled the painting from the wall, eyes widening at what you discovered behind it.

On one side, a gun. On the other, a pile of gold, diamonds, precious stones - a real life treasure chest. Apart, they could have many meanings. But next to each other, tucked away in a manner that was clearly not meant to be discovered, they told a story. You did not know how that story began, but you had the sinking feeling it hadn’t ended yet, that it was still unfolding, and that the moment you opened this door you had unwittingly become a character in it. 

Without really thinking, you reached out and picked up the gun. You were surprised at how cold it was against your skin. Your eyes widened when you realized how strange it was that you had even touched it, and you subconsciously held it further away from you, as if it was a cursed artifact. Something about the weight of it in your hands sent a chill down your spine. You were overcome with a sense of darkness, as though something sinister had entered the room. But when you lifted your gaze from the foreign sight of a gun in your hand, you found that the only thing that had entered the room was Rafe.

(Chapter 7)

a/n: she's aliiiive!!! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, life is crazy. I missed these two so much. If you're still here THANK YOU for sticking with me!!! I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I had to get something posted and this is what I have. The rest of the story lives in my brain, alive and well and will be posted at some point I promise!! I think I have 3 or 4 chapters until I've told the full story.

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part two | r.c

summary:

"Speaking of, why don’t you stay over tonight? It’s late, and I don’t want you walking home by yourself.”

“You’re not gonna drive me?” You asked with a pout and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m too tired, don’t make me. Just stay over.”

“What? And leave in the morning like I’m one of your hook ups? Please.”

OR; Rafe makes an outrageous suggestion and you? You give in.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: mention of drugs, talk about sex (nothing graphic yet) but the later parts will have smut, so 18+ MDNI!

word count: 2k

author's note: pt. two out so soon?? there's gotta be smth fishy going on 🤭we finally get into the PLOT! i hope you enjoy my lovelies, don't forget to leave a comment/like/reblog or share your thoughts with me in the inbox.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. two: "it's born from just one single glance"

A week after the party, it was the first Friday in a while where the four of you didn’t go to a party. After spending a day out of the sea to test out Topper’s new boat, you got picked up some pizza and settled down in Rafe’s living room, where you were still in the same spot several hours later. The empty pizza cartons were stacked on the floor and the four of you strewn out on the couch and various seats.

“You want another drink?”

Rafe was waving his empty glass in front of you, a lonely ice cube clinking in it, an expected eyebrow raised.

You squinted at him, nodding. “Can you get me a coke please?”

“Sure.”

Kelce perked up in his seat at the prospect of another drink. “Hey, can you get me another beer?”

“No,” Rafe answered, without even looking back as he left for the kitchen. “You know where the fridge is.”

“What?” Kelce muttered with a frown, looking over to you as he slumped back down. “You know where the fridge is, why is he getting you a coke?”

You only shrugged with a grin, making yourself comfortable on the couch now that you had more space, while Topper clapped Kelce on the back in consolation.

“Come on man, you know she’s his favorite.”

“Hey!”

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, you shucked it at Topper, making him yelp when it hit him square in the face.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not right next to you,” you scowled. “And I’m not Rafe’s favorite.”

“You’re a clown if you actually believe that.”

“Fuck you, you’re a clown.”

Topper tossed the pillow back at you, narrowly missing your head by an inch and the pillow fell to the floor behind the couch, landing just in front of Rafe’s feet as he returned.

“I was gone for five minutes, what are you guys fighting about now?”

“Precious over here thinks she’s not your favorite.”

You glowered at the other two boys, while Rafe settled back on the couch next to you, pressing a can of coke into your hands. He took a sip of his drink, eyeing you briefly and shrugged, pursing his lips in agreement.

“Nah, you’re definitely my favorite.”

You stuck your tongue out at Topper when he gave you a knowing look, instead focusing on opening your coke. “Whatever. It doesn’t mean anything, you two shitheads don’t make it hard for me to be anyone’s favorite.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Kelce grunted with a frown and you raised a brow at him.

“You literally had sex in Rafe’s bed last year,” you said, before turning your attention to Topper. “And you’re still obsessed with Sarah.”

Rafe let out a noise, making clear that he was fully agreeing with you. ��What she said.”

Topper, while satisfied he had proven his point, still rolled his eyes and Kelce crossed his arms, annoyed.

“I hate it when they team up like this.”

“Shut up and get your beer.”

The next couple of hours passed easily, just as it always did when the four of you came together to talk shit. While you did enjoy going to parties every now and then, you really appreciated just hanging out with your friends and talking about everything and nothing in the safety of the four walls of Rafe’s home.

Only you and your boys. Just the way you liked it.

“Alright, I think it’s time for me to go,” Topper said, breaking up the group with a yawn, shaking his head to stay awake as he sat up. “I’m beat.”

“Can you give me a ride?” Kelce asked, standing up and Topper nodded, turning to you.

“Do you need me to drop you off too?”

You stretched your arms, legs long draped over Rafe’s lap as you laid lengthwise on the couch. It was nearing one am and you really should make your way home, but you were far too comfortable to move, having spent most of the day in the sun, which was catching up to you now.

“I think I might stay for a while longer, thanks though.”

Topper clicked his tongue, ruffling your hair, messing it up for good measure as he and Kelce said their good byes, their voices getting quieter as they strolled to the front, the door shutting in its hinges. It wasn’t long after until you could heard Topper’s truck start, and then pull off the estate grounds.

Finally, it was quiet enough for you to hear the music, which was drowned out by Kelce’s constant yapping. You loved him but he was such a chatter box when he drank beer.

“Isn’t Sarah coming home tonight?” you asked into the sudden quietness, combing through your hair with your fingers, trying to get rid of the knots that have formed since you’d laid on the couch for the whole night. The estate had been quiet apart from the four of you causing raucous in the living room.

“Please,” Rafe scoffed. “She’s staying with John B more nights than not, I’m this close to kicking her out for real.”

“Oh come on,” you laughed, leaning up to shove his arm a little. “She’s in love. Leave her alone. And don’t act like you don’t enjoy being the man of the house and having it all to yourself.”

Rafe grinned to himself, shrugging his shoulders a bit like you weren’t absolutely right. Like you said, you knew him. “Eh. Maybe. House tends to get a little quiet sometimes... Speaking of, why don’t you stay over tonight? It’s late, and I don’t want you walking home by yourself.”

“You’re not gonna drive me?” You asked with a pout and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m too tired, don’t make me. Just stay over.”

“What? And leave in the morning like I’m one of your hook ups? Please.”

“Give me a break,” Rafe huffed. “You know damn well you’re not one of my hook ups. They don’t get to stay till the morning,” he paused, turning his head to look at you inquisitively, and you knew that look all too well. He was about to be nosy. “What about yours, anyways?”

“My what?”

“Your hook ups, precious. Haven’t seen anyone around since Jack.”

You shrugged. “Cuz there wasn’t anyone else since Jack, you know that. And he wasn’t a hook up, he was my boyfriend.”

He was quiet, but you could basically hear the gears in his head turning. “I know you’re not into hook ups and shit, but don’t you need to get off sometimes?”

“And risk hooking up with weirdos like Moany? No thank you. I don’t need anyone else to get off.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “I know, jesus. I’m just saying… Sex by yourself isn’t as good as sex with another person. If you know what they like. Not everyone has freaky requests like Monique. And if you’re compatible, you know the sex can be insane.”

You eyed him suspiciously, not sure if you liked which direction this was going. He wasn’t about to suggest the two of you having sex…. Right? Because that would be just crazy.

“… jus’ getting sick of having to get to know a new girl every time, ‘s exhausting.”

“You know you can have sex with a person more than once right?”

Rafe scoffed, leaning his hands behind his head. “Yeah, but then they start getting comfortable. I don’t need that right now.”

You waved your hands around, trying to stop Rafe’s train of thought before it could get any further.

“Rafe, stop beating around the bush. The fuck are you on right now?”

He swirled his drink around, downing the last of it before shoving the glass on the table, looking at you.

“What if… We fucked?”

“What?” you stared at him incredulously, like he had just grown a second head.

“I mean, not relationship wise. Casual. Friends with benefits.”

“Friends with benefits,” you echoed, dryly. “Are you insane?”

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head at you, not bothering with a reply. You thought that was the end of it, trying to calm your heart down, as it was nearly jumping out of your throat, when you felt Rafe’s hand splaying across your bare legs. His fingers brushed your inner thigh, making you tense and you glared up at him.

“Seriously Rafe?”

“Seriously Rafe?” Rafe mocked you, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear, the other hand starting to trace circles into the skin of your thigh, like it was the most normal thing for him to do. “We both know that if you didn’t want me touching you, you’d have kicked me half ways across the room already.”

You wanted to protest, but your words died halfway down your tongue, knowing it was no use with the way Rafe was looking at you. Also, he was a 100% right. Turning away, you stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore how his finger tips left your skin tingling, thinking of the most random things to calm yourself down.

There was no use of lying to yourself, a part of you wanted to say yes.

You knew Rafe didn’t do relationships, has never had a girlfriend in all the years you’d been friends. What if being friends with benefits was the closest thing you could be for Rafe? Not only his best friend, but a step further? What if this was all you could get with him?

“This is a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“You’re my best friend.”

“Exactly. You’re my best friend, I don’t have to tell you anything because you know exactly what I like and what I don’t.”

“Not when it comes to sex!”

“Okay okay, calm down, I was just making a suggestion.”

Rafe trailed off, dropping the topic, his fucking hand still on your thigh. He wasn’t looking at you, but you could tell that he was biting back a grin, and you hated to think that you were going to give in.

“We’re not telling anyone, you hear me? Not a single soul. Especially not Top and Kelce, they would never let us live this down.”

He turned his head, the corner of his mouth ticking up knowingly. He was your best friend after all, he knew what to say to convince you of his argument. “Those two knuckleheads don’t need to know everything we do,” Rafe said as he leaned in, but you stopped him halfway, your hand on his chest.

“If this affects our friendship in any way, or or…. If it gets awkward or someone… Just, we stop, okay? No lying to get your dick wet.”

“Have I ever lied to you, precious?”

“Uh, yes. Remember when you, Top and Kelce snuck into my gard- oomph.”

Your sentence was cut short when Rafe pressed his lips against you in a soft kiss, his hand cupping the back of the neck. He pulled away, his breath hot on your face. Your lips parted a bit, shock coursing through your veins. You had wondered how it would feel to kiss Rafe for so long, and you had to admit, that the real deal was so much better than anything you could’ve imagined.

“You talk too much,” he mumbled against your lips and you rolled your eyes, brought out of your haze. This was still Rafe. Your best friend.

“Shut up.”

Fisting his shirt, you pulled him closer to you, lips hot as they interlocked. He leaned forward, both of his knees bracketing your waist, one hand moving from the back of your neck to the front, so he could cup your face. Suddenly, you were surrounded by him and if you weren’t so distracted by Rafe’s tongue slipping into your mouth, you’d be freaking out right now. This felt like a fever dream; your hands moving automatically down his torso, sneaking under his shirt, nails grazing his chiseled abs and when Rafe let out a honest to god whimper, you knew you were done for.

There was no going on back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: am i sorry about the cliffhanger? ask me later👀

[pathologicalreid]

hello!! i've been reading your spencer works for a while and they're definitely one of my favorites from this app :) so I'd like to request something :)

I've always loved the idea of spencer coming back home from a case earlier than expected and surprising reader (gf or wife) at work to pick her up! and reader could be a chemist or a scientist so spencer is interested and involved in her work somehow and they're just talking, being cute and fluffy and just happy to he together again <3 thank you for your time, and no pressure!

pure and applied chemistry | S.R.

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: fluff content warnings: fem!reader, chemical burns, lab incidents, yapper!reader, kisses word count: 1.06k a/n: i wasn't even going to post this today but i wrote it and fell in love with spencer and his biochemist gf!!!!! this might be a pairing that i start taking requests for - thank you so much for requesting!

The air was barely starting to chill in the district, making it still unseasonably warm as you tried to take off your jacket without removing your book bag. It would’ve been easy to be embarrassed, but you were the only person around this part of campus – most students had a Reading Day, but your lab was still open, and your graduate student still wanted to work.

You had been the last person in the lab that she approached with her idea, having been turned down by the rest of campus, but you weren’t one to turn down a challenge. In fact, you had been so bored in the lab that you considered applying for another PhD.

Tying the sleeves of your jacket around your waist, you pulled your phone out of the back pocket to check the campus transportation app. As you started typing in your passcode, your eyes caught on a notification from your boyfriend.

Spencer Reid, PhD: Not home until tomorrow.

Sending back a quick emoticon – because an emoji would just show up as a square on his phone – you switched to checking what time the bus was supposed to show up at your stop before a passing car caught your eye, the car slowed to a stop right in front of you. “Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “It’s illegal to idle at a bus stop!” You called out to the driver, “You can’t stop here!”

Startled, you took a step back when the driver opened their car door, gripping your phone tightly as you mentally prepared for a confrontation, but only ended up confused when a familiar mess of brown hair peeked over the roof of the vehicle, “You don’t recognize my car?”

“Of course, I recognize your car! I just didn’t think it could be your car because last you told me you were in Nebraska!” You said, outwardly complaining as he rounded the hood of the car to open the passenger door for you.

Spencer smiled at you over the car door, “I told a fib in order to reap the benefits of surprising my girlfriend at work. Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Rolling your eyes as you sat in your seat, “Oh, I’m sure she could probably find the strength to forgive you.” You were beaming as Spencer took your book bag and placed it in the back seat.

As you buckled your seatbelt, Spencer got back behind the wheel, checking his mirrors before merging into the road, once you reached your first stop light, you noticed Spencer looking over at you, “What did you do to your arm?” He asked, making note of the gauze wrapped around your dominant forearm.

Frowning, you looked down at your arm, having previously forgotten the gauze was even there, “Chemical burn,” you answered indifferently, studying the first aid on your arm. “Not a bad one though, probably won’t even scar,” you added. “Oh, that reminds me, I need a new lab coat,” you blurted, fishing around the center console of Spencer’s car for a pen so you could scrawl a reminder on your uninjured forearm.

“How did you get a chemical burn on your arm?” Spencer asked, returning his eyes to the road when the light turned green. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reached over and casually placed one hand on your denim-clad thigh.

You were no stranger to a small burn on your finger – you were fairly certain that your fingerprints were no longer a viable way of identification – but you usually got away with a thorough rinse and a unicorn band-aid. “My grad student, Leslie, mislabeled something in the lab. Another person tried to get me to report it, but Leslie cried so hard while she was helping me clean my arm that I didn’t want to get her in any sort of academic misconduct trouble. I mean, who knew that hydrochloric acid caused chemical burns anyway?”

Spencer deftly flicked the turn signal as he moved to get on the highway to his apartment, “Uh, you and I know,” he said, there was a critical tone in his voice, but it was directed toward your flippancy instead of the injury itself.

“It wasn’t super concentrated, so I’m really fine,” you insisted, telling him the same thing you had told Leslie when the incident occurred, “I’ve done worse.”

Smiling, your boyfriend shook his head, “It’s a wonder they still let you in chemistry labs.” He was referring to a burn you had given yourself a few months ago, leading to an embarrassing trip to the hospital where doctors had to debride a nasty burn to your thigh. That particular incident had led to the director of your lab gifting you an enamel pin, designed to look like a hazardous materials symbol.

You looked at him, watching intently as he exited off the highway and made it to his apartment. Not long ago, an impromptu trip to Spencer’s would’ve been an inconvenience, but now you had two drawers of his dresser as your own. He led the way up the stairs and you followed him through the door of apartment twenty-three.

Locking the door before turning all of his attention to you, he cupped your face in both of his hands before kissing both of your cheeks – right over the tender, red lines left by your lab goggles. “Promise me you’ll be more careful in the lab,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and herding you over to the couch.

As you sat down on the couch, Spencer joined you, grabbing at your hips until you gave in, seating yourself in his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. You intertwined your fingers at the back of his neck, tilting your head to the side, “We’re all done with tests anyway – there will be considerably fewer chemicals involved while I get on my knees and grovel to the federal government for funding to start a clinical trial,” you told him, considering the repercussions of pressing your lips to his.

“What kind of chemicals could you possibly need to apply for federal research grants?” Spencer asked, gently resting his hands on your waist.

Beaming, you waggled your eyebrows at him, “One, three, seven-Trimethylpurine-two, six-dione, baby.”

Realization dawned on his features as he understood, “Ah, caffeine.”

[buckgasms]

Hi! Big fan of your work and okay you asked for it but I imagine mean bully!Bucky where he has his eyes on this young agent who just joined the team and she’s just so sweet and shy and he already fell for her when his eyes landed on her. He always secretly steals her underwear and she’s so sweet that she cries when she saw a cat got hurt on the street and Bucky saw her running to Bruce so he can help the cat, BIG MISTAKE cause the way her tears runs down her face he thinks she’s so beautiful and hot and it makes him more horny and so that’s where he starts bullying her just to see her tears and he step it up one day that during training he pinned her down and he can smell her getting turned on so he call her name until she cries but he just continues and put his thigh between her legs and he’s just so mean about it that before she gets any released he stops and ever since he can’t keep his hands off okay sorry if it’s weird

Thanks beautiful nonnie 🩷

Hmm ok so this sounds like a dark!Bucky to me, what with the underwear stealing and loving to watch her cry right?

Which I am certainly happy to accommodate 😈

This went a bit off course but i hope it's ok! It is a bit dark so please proceed with caution! ☢️

I imagine that first night after he sees you really crying, big tears sliding down your cheeks he's got your underwear wrapped around his cock as he fists himself over and over again, just imagining your pretty face and how much he would love to make to cry over and over.

It takes him so long to calm down from it because he just can't control the fire in his belly every time he thinks about you. So sweet and innocent, ready to submit and do whatever your told, take whatever he gives.

I bet he'd constantly tell you to stay late at the gym to work on your punches, belittling you and reminding you how weak you are and how you'd need someone to look after you all the time.

Maybe he sneaks into the showers to listen to your muffled sobs of frustration and tiredness just so he has something new to imagine later that night.

☁️

And maybe one night you are sparring with him and he lands a jab right to your stomach and you drop to the floor, winded and you burst out crying right then and there. He has to keep a straight face because he can't believe how fucking beautiful you look, sobbing and sweaty, laid out in front of him.

He drops to the floor pressing his knee right into your core and leans down, hands either side of your head as he comes in real close.

"How many times have I told you, you aren't up to this. You need protecting little girl..."

You huff and shake your head, pouting a little as you sob. 

"No I don't, you just keep treating me like shit and that last kick hurt..."

He grins before pressing his knee harder into your core and pinning your hands down to the mat. Before you can stop it a little moan escapes your lips, even as your eyes widen in shock.

"Doesn't sound like I'm treating you bad now, does it baby?" You curse as he grinds again, chuckling as you whimper and more tears spring from your eyes.

"Cut it out...let me go..."

He hesitates for a moment before relenting, sitting back on his haunches and watches you walk away in a hurry.

☁️

He wasn't sure if you'd come back again, but there you were bright and early, refusing to back down. 

This time he decided to ignore you. He left you till last each time there was an activity, and would just tut every time you didn't do something perfectly. 

So you tried harder. He could tell by the end you were desperate for some kind of reaction, but he gave you nothing.

When it came time for the hand to hand combat you were positivly fuming. So you kicked and punched and clawed at him with all you might. He had to put up a bit of a fight to keep you off but he did eventually manage to floor you.

He dismissed everyone but you didn't move. When the last person filtered out you were still stood on the mat, panting.

"I'm not done."

He smirked and dropped his kit bag. Squaring up to you on the mat. Before he could reply you lunged at him and scrabbled with each other for a good few minutes before he pinned you again.

"You gonna cry baby?" He mocked as you squirmed and groaned, tears leaking down your cheeks in your anger.

You managed to kick at his crotch, winding him slightly and escaping from his grasp, but he recovered quickly and as you rolled over he slammed his body down on top of you, his breath coming in pants by your ear.

"That wasn't very nice" he growled before manouvering to sit on your legs, gripping your hands behind your back. You continue to squirm and wail as he drags down your shorts and underwear.

"You wanna act like a brat, I'll treat you like one..." His first slap stops your movement and you gasp. He knows this is risky but he doesn't care, he lands spank after spank on your perfect ass, enjoying the little squeaks from you as he covers you in red hand marks.

Your body is shaking with sobs as he works, which only serves to make him hard as he keeps going, occasionally spreading you ass cheeks to look at your pretty holes, which he notes is glistening despite your protests.

Finally he climbs off you and presses his face into your ass, taking a deep sniff and pressing little kisses to your lips and ass cheeks before rolling you over to lie on your back.

Your face is blotchy and puffy from tears, and he drags you so your thighs are wrapped around his waist.

"There you are, much better, and so fucking pretty hmm?"

You whine as he paws at you, but you don't fight him, you just watch him rake his hands all over. 

"Why are you so mean to me?" 

Your little voice takes him by surprise and he leans over, pressing his hard body against your soft one.

"I'm not mean baby, I'm just worried about you. I want you to be safe, I wanna take care of you. Plus you look so pretty like this, I can't help it baby...."

You sob as he presses kisses to your tear stained face, but he relishes the way your soft lips respond to his, accepting his kisses as he dominates you.

"Do you understand now? You want me to make you feel better now sweetheart?" He keeps kissing you, grinding against your bare heat, waiting until you nod.

"Good girl, let me make you feel better now..."

He pulls back and smirks as he sees your eyes widen as his cock is pulled out and slapped against your heat.

You whine and protest a little as he drags the tip against your soaked folds but he hushes you with a finger in your mouth, sinking his cock in slowly but relentlessly until he is all the way inside you.

"S'too big Bucky... Can't...." You protest but he can feel your walls squeezing him tighter as he waits for you to settle.

"Yes you can baby. I can feel your cunt, doesn't wanna let me go does it? Tell me, tell me you want it..."

You squirm and moan as more tears slid down your cheeks. He growls and catches them with his thumb and sucking them, still waiting for you to respond.

"Fucking say it baby, tell me you want it..."

Your breath shudders but you nod and without waiting another moment he begins rutting into you. He can't believe how good you feel, how tight and soft you are. He loses himself in the pleasure, leaning down to lick and kiss at your tears as you wail in pleasure.

Your moans echo around the gym, and he feels you grip onto his shoulders as he pounds into you. 

"Bucky... Please..."

He pulls back, lifting your thigh to plant more smacks to your already sore cheeks, making you squeal and cry, your walls squeezing him tighter, fluttering as your peak builds.

"Come baby, show me what a good girl you are. My pretty little cry baby..."

More squeezes, more slaps and tears follow until you reach your peak. He follows quickly after, filling you up and claiming you as his own.

He collapses into the mat next to you, panting and sweating as you lay next to him shaking and whining. 

Eventually he gets up and pulls his shorts on, before pulling your underwear up tight and hauling you up and cupping your face in his hands. 

"Now, I wanna see you here tomorrow after class for another lesson alright? We're gonna work on things together and I can take good care of my little cry baby ok?"

You sniffle and nod at him, so he rewards you with a soft kiss before sending you off on your way.

He's definitely going to hell, but as he watches you scurry away he thinks, he doesn't really care.

[lee-laurent]

Swept Under the Rug - Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack's never been known for his... stable relationships, but Luke's bsf might just change that. The issue: Luke would rather die than see her date his brother

content: angst, mentions of being unfaithful, fwb, fluff!, kissing, mentions of smut but no explicit smut

wc: 4.9k

notes: hey! this was the second-most requested from my list of upcoming fics! if somethings don't line up, i'm sorry! i didn't proofread it :/ enjoy!!

Elizabeth Winters, known to most as Liz but forever "Lizzy" to Luke Hughes, considered the Hughes house her second home. Over the years, she'd spent countless days sprawled on their basement couch, eating snacks with Luke while they watched the latest Leafs game on the TV or sharing inside jokes that made no sense to anyone but them.

Luke was her best friend in every way that mattered: loyal, protective, and so steadfastly in her corner that it felt like he was her own personal guard dog. It wasn't uncommon for him to roll his eyes at her latest "crush of the week" or grumble about some guy who'd wasted her time. "You need better taste in men, Lizzy," he'd say with all the authority of someone who acted like he had it figured out.

It was that protectiveness that made the summer before Luke's second NHL season both exciting and a little bittersweet. With the pressures of professional hockey looming large, she knew their carefree, everyday hangouts would start to dwindle. Luke insisted they wouldn't, but Liz had been around long enough to know how life could pull people apart.

Still, the Hughes house held its usual chaotic energy, and Liz felt like she was where she belonged. Quinn was more of a quiet presence when he was around, often keeping to himself. Jack, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

He was impossible to ignore. He carried himself with an effortless charm that seemed to draw people in like moths to a flame. Jack was cocky but not in an unkind way--he knew he was good at hockey, good-looking, and awfully good at making people laugh. His reputation with girls, however, left something to be desired. Liz had heard enough stories from Luke to know that Jack was what one might generously call "a player."

"Jack thinks commitment is a four-letter word," Luke had joked once, earning a laugh from Liz.

She'd always been skeptical of Jack's allure, even if she had to admit he had the kind of grin that could probably get him out of trouble nine times out of ten. For her, he was Luke's annoying older brother, nothing more. Sure, he had that floppy hair that made him look like a dork when he tucked it behind his ears, and yeah, his laugh was infectious, but Liz wasn't about to fall into that trap. She knew better.

It was one of those lazy afternoons in early July when Liz found herself once again in the Hughes' kitchen, rifling through the fridge for a drink.

"You know, you're here more than I am," Jack teased from his stool at the island.

Liz rolled her eyes, popping the cap off a bottle of water. "Maybe that's because you're always gallivanting with whatever Instagram model happens to be in town."

Jack smirked, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Gallivanting? Who even uses that word?"

"People who read books," Liz shot back, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at the way he laughed.

Their banter was easy, but it meant nothing. Jack flirted with everyone, from waitresses to Luke's friends' moms. That was just who he was.

"Lizzy!" Luke's voice echoed from the living room. "You're not letting Jack corrupt you, are you?"

Liz turned to see Luke walking in, hair damp from his shower and a scowl on his face aimed squarely at his brother.

"Corrupt me? Please," she said, grabbing her water bottle and heading toward her best friend. "Your brother doesn't stand a chance."

Jack's mock-offeneded "Hey!" followed her out of the kitchen, but she barely looked back.

The rest of the day passed the way it always did when she was with Luke, easily. Luke hogged the whole sofa, their laughter punctuated by the occasional chirp from Jack, who had perched himself on the armrest at some point.

Despite her insistence that she wasn't swayed by Jack's charm, Liz couldn't help but notice the way his presence seemed to fill the room. When he cracked a joke, everyone laughed. When he smiled, it was impossible not to look.

But that was just Jack. And she wasn't about to fall for it.

Right?

~~

Liz should've said no.

She should've declined when Jack offered to drive her home after another late night at the Hughes house. Luke had fallen asleep halfway through a Marvel movie marathon, his lanky frame sprawled across the couch while Liz had been left half-buried under a blanket. Jack, ever the night owl, had wandered in during the second movie, teasing her about her choice of snacks and stealing half her popcorn.

By the time the credits rolled, it was nearly midnight.

"I can call an Uber," Liz had said, brushing off the flutter in her heart when Jack offered to drive her.

"Or," Jack countered, "you could save twenty bucks and let me do the honours."

She hesitated, glancing at Luke, who was snoring lightly beside her. On paper, there was no good reason to refuse. Jack lived for late nights and seemed completely unbothered, even energized, by the idea of going out at this hour. It wasn't like he was some stranger--he was Luke's brother. She'd known him for years.

And yet.

"Fine," Liz relented, grabbing her bag.

The car ride started inncoently enough. Jack turned the music up, some mellow indie playlist filling the silence as the suburban streets blurred by. They talked about random things: the weirdest foods they'd ever tried, a debate about whether summer or winter was better, and the chaos of their childhoods.

Liz was laughing more than she should have, glancing over at Jack as he gestured animatedly about a prank he'd pulled on Quinn years ago.

But then... the conversation shifted.

"You don't really think I'm that bad, do you?" Jack asked suddenly, his once light tone now pointed.

Liz frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know," he said, flashing her a grin before looking back at the road. "The whole 'Jack's a player, avoid at all costs' thing. You and Lukey love giving me shit about it."

She shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I mean, you don't exactly have the best track record."

Jack laughed softly, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But you ever think there's more to me than that?"

She didn't know how to respond. Sure, Jack could be cocky and frustrating, but in moments like this--when it was just the two of them, the banter stripped away--he seemed... different.

"I guess I never really thought about it," Liz admitted, her voice quieter now.

"Maybe you should."

The air in the car shifted, subtle but undeniable. Liz felt her heartbeat pick up, her mind racing with questions she didn't dare voice.

They pulled into her driveway, the porch light casting a warm glow across the front of her house. Liz reached for the door handle, but Jack's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

She turned, finding him watching her with an intensity she'd never seen before.

"You're different, Liz. You know that?"

Liz blinked. "Different how?"

Jack leaned slight closer, his movements unhurried. "You're not like the other... Instagram model girls. You don't care about any of that bullshit they do. You're just... you."

It would've been easier to laugh off, to tease him for making her seem like a manic pixie dream girl. But something about the way he said it--he wasn't very good with words--made it impossible.

"Jack..." she started, but whatever she was about to say vanished the moment he leaned in.

The kiss was nothing like she expected, soft at first but quickly growing hungrier, fueled by weeks--months, years--of tension. Liz could hear her pulse in her ears, her hands gripping the fabric of his light hoodie.

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But it felt so, so good.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. Liz stared at him, the conflicting emotions a tornado in her head.

"What are we doing?" she whispered.

Jack smirked, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Living a little?"

Living a little. That was all this was to him.

"I can't," she shook her head. "Luke--he'd kill us both."

Jack sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Luke doesn't have to know everything you do, Liz."

Jack's world was one of easy charm and fewer consequences, but this wasn't just about him.

"I can't betray him like that," Liz said, her voice firmer now.

Jack tilited his head, studying her. "And what about you? What do you want, Liz?"

The question lingered, but remained unanswered as she hopped out of the car, whispering a quiet "thank you."

She barely slept that night. Her mind replaying their make out session--if you could call it that--over and over. The feeling of Jack's lips on hers, the look in his eyes.

She hated how much she wanted to kiss him again.

But the thought of Luke--the way he trusted her, the way he'd drop everything to be there for her--was a constant, gnawing idea in her mind.

Jack didn't seem like the kind of guy who thought too hard about the consequences of his actions. And she wasn't sure she could trust him to take this seriously, not when the stakes were so high.

~~

The next time she saw Jack, he acted like nothing had happened.

"Morning, Liz," he said breezily, winking at her as he grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen.

"M--Morning."

Luke walked in seconds later, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between his brother and his best friend. "Lizzy, you ready for some one-on-one later? I've been working on my wrist shot, and I'm gonna fucking smoke you this time."

"Dream on," she shot back, thankful for the distraction.

But as the day went on, she couldn't shake the feeling of Jack's eyes on her, the ghost of his lips on hers still fresh in her mind.

She was in shit. Deep, deep shit.

~~

The kiss hadn't been intended to turn into anything more.

In the days that followed, she tried to convince herself it had been a fluke, a moment of weakness they could both pretend never happened. But Jack seemed to want to make that impossible.

It started small: a lingering loko when Luke wasn't paying attention, a teasing brush of his hand against hers as he walked by, or an offhand comment laced with double meaning that made her pulse quicken. Jack was the kind of person who thrived on the thrill of the chase, and Liz had unwittingly become his favourite game.

What terrified her most was how much she liked it.

It wasn't long before she found herself sneaking off with Jack during her visits to the Hughes house.

"Luke's in the basement," Jack whispered one evening, appearing from the doorway of the guest room when Liz had been scrolling through her phone.

"And?"

"And I'm here," Jack's grin was all confidence, but his eyes held something deeper--something that kept Liz from brushing him off.

"That's a bad idea," she said, even as she let him close the door behind him.

"Probably. But you're not telling me to leave."

He knew exactly how to read her.

Before she could come up with a retort, he crossed the room and kissed her. It was hungry, insistent, and impossible to resist. Liz melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he climbed on top of her on the bed.

"Jack," she mumbled against his lips, his hands resting on her exposed midriff. "This is insane." She was desperately trying to ignore the heat coursing through her veins.

"Maybe, but it doesn't feel wrong... does it?"

She just pulled him back down by the collar of his t-shirt, pressing their lips together, ignoring the chuckle he let out at her eagerness.

~~

The guilt came later, after she'd put her clothes back on and fixed her hair, trying to find Luke.

"Lizzy, you're distracted," Luke said, passing a ball to her.

"What? No, I'm not," she lied, stopping it before it rolled into the grass.

Luke squinted at her, resting his stick on his shoulders. "Is this about that guy you were talking to a couple weeks ago? What was his name? Kyle?"

"What? No. Kyle was--he's nothing."

"Good," he said firmly, firing a puck into the net. "You deserve better than guys like him."

She swallowed hard, ignoring that she had just had sex with a 'guy like him.'

"You're too sweet, Lu," she forced a smile.

"Someone has to be," he shot back. "Speaking of which, if a dumbass like him ever tries anything, you'll tell me, right? I'm not afraid to throw hands if I have to."

"Sure, Lukey. You'll be the first to know."

~~

It wasn't just the stolen kisses and heated moments.

One night, Liz found herself sitting with Jack on the porch swing, the cool summer breeze making her shiver slightly. She'd come outside to clear her head and Jack had followed.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, handing her his sweatshirt off his back.

Liz pulled it over her head, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her. "Just... thinking about life, I guess."

"Deep stuff," he teased.

"D'you ever feel like you're living two lives?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, I have this life with Luke and your family, where everything's normal and comfortable. But then there's... this." She gestured vaguely between them.

"I get it. It's like when I'm on the ice versus when I'm off. On the ice, everything makes sense. Off... not so much."

"I didn't think you overthought things."

Jack laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I don't show it, but yeah, I do sometimes."

Maybe there was more to Jack than the cocky, carefree persona he showed to the world.

"Thanks for the sweatshirt," she said, leaning a little closer to him.

Jack wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "Anytime."

~~

Luke remained oblivious to what was happening right under his nose, though Liz could feel the pressure mounting.

During another movie night, Jack sat on the sofa a little too close to Liz, his knee brushing hers. She stiffened, eyes darting to Luke, who was preoccupied with a bag of chips.

Jack smirked, clearly enjoying how it made her squirm, and draped an arm across the back of the couch.

"Jack, stop being weird," Luke said without looking up.

Jack laughed, shifting slightly but leaving his arm where it was.

"Lizzy, you okay?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, fine. Why?" she turned to look at him.

"Just... acting differently."

"Differently?"

"I don't know," he frowned. "Distracted. Are you sure you're not seeing that Kyle guy?"

Jack's jaw ticked.

"No! Of course not. I already told you that."

"Good. He sucks."

Liz let out a shaky breath, missing the grimace on Jack's face.

As she prepared to leave that night, Jack caught her arm near the door.

"You need to stop doing that," she hissed, glancing around to make sure nobody was nearby.

"Doing what?"

"You know what. You're going to get us caught."

Jack leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Maybe I like seeing you squirm."

Liz glared at him, but her bright red cheeks betrayed her.

"Relax," he said, brushing some hair behind her ear. "I've got it all under control."

Liz wasn't so sure.

~~

The thrill of meeting up in secret was intoxicating, but the constant risk of discovery weighed heavily on her. Every time she stepped into the Hughes hous, her favourite place, she felt like she was one wrong move away from a disaster.

Jack seemed unfazed. The secrecy only seemed to amuse him.

"Morning, Liz," he said one Saturday as she entered the house.

Luke looked up from his breakfast. "You're here early."

She shrugged, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. "You told me to come by, remember?"

He grunted in acknowledgment, but his eyes drifted to Jack who was barely concealing a smirk.

"What're you so fucking happy about?"

"Nothing," Jack said innocently, his smirk only widenening as he chugged his milk.

Liz quickly turned her back to both of them, focusing on making her coffee the way she liked.

~~

The first time they almost got caught, it was Jack's fault.

Liz had stayed late at the Hughes, watching a game with Luke and some of his old teammates. Jack had wandered in halfway through (as usual), throwing jabs at Luke and stealing Liz's food.

By the time the game ended, Luke and his friends had disappeared to FaceTime someone else, leaving Liz and Jack alone.

"You staying over?" he asked.

Liz gave him a pointed look. "No, I'm leaving soon. Luke's just upstairs."

He leaned in. "That's never stopped you before."

Her cheeks flushed, and she shoved him away. "You're impossible."

"And yet you still like me anyway."

Footsteps came down the stairs and Jack leaned back, his expression turning neutral with incredible speed.

"You're still here?" Luke asked Liz.

"Yeah, I, uh, I'm just leaving now," she said quickly, standing up.

Jack gave her a small wink as she left, and she had to fight the urge to glare at him.

~~

The second close call was even worse.

Jack: You coming over? Liz: I'm literally outside, dipshit. But Luke's gonna kill you if he finds out Jack: Lukey won't notice. We'll play some music ;)

She sent a quick, flustered reply before shoving her phone in her pocket and heading inside.

An hour later, she was sitting with Luke on the basement floor when he grabbed her buzzing phone and frowned.

"What's this?" he held up the screen.

Jack's name was at the top of the text thread, the messages not visible because the phone was still locked.

"Oh... you know Jack, always being a shit stirrer," she shrugged.

Luke's face screwed up, tossing the phone back on the couch. "Such a fucking weirdo."

"Yep," she giggled.

~~

"You two have been acting weird lately," Luke said.

"What're you talking about?"

"You and Jack," he frowned. "He's always teasing you, and you get all... jumpy. It's not like you."

Liz forced a laugh. "Jack teases everyone."

"Yeah, but it's different with you," he continued. "It's almost like--"

He stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. "Never mind. I'm just being paranoid. Right?"

She nodded, quickly steering the conversation in a different direction.

And despite the mounting tension, Liz and Jack continued to grow closer in ways she hadn't expected.

One night, after another hasty hookup in his room, Liz lay beside him, her head resting on his chest.

"This is crazy," she said, tracing patterns on his skin.

"What? Sneaking around?"

"All of it," she propped herself up on her elbow. "This isn't just... casual for me. I don't know if I can like keep this up if we're not... serious?"

Jack reached up to brush away the hair sticking to her forehead. "Who says it's not serious?"

She searched his face for any sign that it was just a cruel joke. "I've never seen you do serious with anyone before... and I've known you for my entire life... practically."

Jack sighed, his hand settling on her bare waist. "Didn't want to. Until now."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache, but it didn't erase the fear.

"What about Luke?"

Jack's jaw tightened. "I'll deal with Luke when the time comes. Right now, I just want you."

But the shadow of Luke's inevitable reaction loomed over them, a reminder that their time was running out.

~~

It was late and the rest of the house was quiet. Liz had been curled up in Jack's room for hours, tangled in his sheets, the two of them caught in that dreamy post-sex haze.

"You should go," Jack murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Luke's gonna freak if you're here when he wakes up."

She groaned softly, burying her face in his chest. "You've been saying that for the past hour."

Jack grinned. "I like having you here. Sue me."

Liz rolled her eyes, sitting up reluctantly. "You're gonna get me killed."

Jack leaned back, hands folded behind his head. "Worth it."

She shook her head, pulling on her hoodie and trying to ignore Jack's hungry gaze that followed her around the room.

Quietly, she opened the door and stepped into the dim hallway, closing it behind her as softly as she could. She had made it three steps when she froze, her heart plummeting to her feet.

Luke was standing at the other end of the hall, disbelief covering his face.

"Lizzy?"

"Luke, I--"

"What the hell are you doing?" His gaze flickered from her to Jack's closed door, realization dawning with horrifying clarity.

"Are you kidding me?" his voice rose, fists clenched at his sides. "Tell me this isn't what it looks like."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Jack's door opened then, and Liz watched in horror as he stepped out, his expression calm.

"Luke," he started, but Luke cut him off, his face twisting in anger.

"Don't," Luke snapped. "Don't even try explaining your way out of this."

Liz had never seen Luke like this. In all their years of friendship, she'd never seen him so... angry.

"You," he pointed at Jack, his voice trembling. "You're supposed to be my brother. And you," he turned to Liz, his expression hurt, "you're my best friend. How could you?"

"Luke, it's not like that," she tried, her voice shaking. "It's not--"

"It's not what? A hookup?" he laughed bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Jack. "That's all it ever is with you, isn't it?"

Jack stepped forward. "It's not like that, Luke."

"Don't even try to defend yourself," Luke shot back. "You think I don't know you? You've spent your whole life treating girls like they're disposable. And now you're doing it to Lizzy?"

"She's not disposable."

Luke scoffed. "You expect me to believe that? You're just gonna toss her aside like everyone else when you get bored."

"That's not fair," Liz's voice trembled.

"Fair?" Luke looked to her, his eyes blazing. "Fair is me trusting you. Fair is you not sneaking around behind my back with him."

Liz flinched, tears stinging her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Then you shouldn't have done it."

"I... I didn't plan for this to happen," her voice broke. "It just did, okay? And I didn't know how to tell you."

Luke shook his head, running his hands through his curls. "You should've told me the second it started. I could've handled that. But this?" He gestured between the two of them. "This is betrayal, Lizzy. From both of you."

"It's not what you think," she pleaded. "Jack isn't using me. He cares about me."

Luke barked a harsh laugh. "Oh, sure. Jack Hughes, the king of meaningless hookups, suddenly decides to care. Do you even hear yourself?"

"I care about her, Luke. A lot more than you think."

"Yeah? Then prove it. Because all I see is you doing what you always do--thinking about yourself."

Jack's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

Liz reached out, her hands trembling as she grabbed Luke's arm. "Luke, please. You're my best friend. I never wanted to hurt you."

Luke pulled away like she'd burned him with her touch. "You didn't just hurt me, Lizzy. You broke my trust."

She turned to Jack, silently pleading for him to say something that would fix this, but Jack looked just as lost as she felt.

Luke shook his head, backing away from both of them. "I need space. From both of you."

"Luke..." But he was already walking away, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.

Liz turned to Jack again, her tears spilling over. "What do we do now?"

"We give him time."

"What... what if he never forgives us?"

"He's your best friend, and he's my brother. He'll come around. Eventually."

Liz wasn't so sure.

~~

She spent the days following in a fog, her chest constantly tight with guilt. Luke hadn't spoken to her since the confrontation, her phone sitting silent, devoid of her normal texts from her best friend. The distance felt unbearable, a stark contrast to the years of effortless closeness they had shared.

Jack, while supportive, didn't press her. He gave her the space she wanted to process things, though he made it clear he wasn't going anywhere based off his brother's feelings.

"You know where to find me," he'd told her the last time they'd talked.

On the third day of her slump, she decided the silence had gone on long enough. She drove to the Hughes', her heartbeat matching her knocks on the door.

It was Ellen who answered, her smile faltering slightly when she saw Liz.

"Hi, sweetie," she stepped aside to let her in. "Luke's in the basement."

"Is he... okay?"

Ellen sighed. "He's upset, but he'll come around. Just give him time."

Liz nodded, breathing deeply as she made her way downstairs. Luke was on the couch, a hockey game playing on the TV. He glanced up when she walked in, his expression suddenly guarded.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice flat.

Liz's throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak. "I want to fix this, Luke. I miss you. I miss us."

He looked away. "You should've thought about that before you started hooking up with Jack."

Her eyes stung. "It wasn't just a hookup. It's way more than that."

Luke scoffed. "That's what they all think with Jack. You're just another girl to me, Liz. You're better than that."

"No, I'm not," she said firmly. "You think you know Jack, but you don't see the side of him I do. He's not perfect, but he's trying. And he cares about me, Luke. This isn't just sex for him."

"It doesn't matter. You lied to me. You both did. How am I supposed to trust either of you after this?"

Liz tried... and failed to blink back tears. "I made a mistake by not telling you, Luke. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. You're my best friend. You always will be. Please don't let my mistake ruin us."

For a long moment, he didn't respond. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned off the TV and faced her.

"I need more time," he said quietly. "I can't forgive you that quickly, Lizzy. But I don't want to lose you either."

She nodded, her tears still falling. "Take the time you need, Lu."

~~

Later that evening, it was Jack's turn to face Luke's rage.

"You're really something, you know that?" Luke said, his arms crossed as he stood in the kitchen, glaring at his older brother.

"Look, I know I screwed up, okay? I should've told you the truth. But this thing with Liz--it's not a game, Luke. I care about her."

Luke's laugh was bitter. "Care about her? Since when do you care about anyone but yourself?"

"That's not fair," Jack snapped. "I've made mistakes in the past, yeah. But Liz isn't one of them."

"You don't get it, Jack! She's my best friend. She's like family to me. And you--you just take whatever you want without thinking about the consequences."

Jack stepped forward, his jaw tight. "You think this was easy for me? You think I didn't know how much it would hurt you if you found out? But I couldn't stop, Luke. I--"

"I love her," he finished.

"You love her?" Luke asked, an unreadable look on his face.

"Yeah... I do."

For a moment, Luke said nothing. Then he sighed, his shoulder slumping slightly.

"If you hurt her," he said lowly. "I'll never forgive you."

"I won't. I swear."

~~

"Luke and I talked," Jack said, letting Liz snuggle further into his side. "He's still pissed, but I think he's finally starting to come around."

Liz smiled faintly. "He said the same thing to me. I just hope he forgvies us someday."

"He will. I know Luke. You know Luke. He'll get there."

"Did you really mean it? What you told him?"

Jack frowned. "I... what did I tell him?"

Liz smirked. "Don't play dumb, pretty boy. About...lo--"

Realization dawned on his face, and he chuckled softly. "Yeah, I meant it. I love you, Liz."

Her breath hitched and he squeezed her hand. "I love you too!"

~~

It took a while, but eventually Liz and Luke were, well.... Liz and Luke again. They'd spend their free-time together just like they always had, making fun of horrible straight to Netflix movies and playing hockey in the driveway. They were best friends again, just as they were meant to be.

And slowly but surely, Luke came around to Jack and Liz being a couple. Jack had somehow proved his worth, whether it was through the way he supported Liz when she was down or how he already had every little detail about the girl memorized--her coffee order, her favourite book, what movies she watched when she was happy, sad, and the exact words she needed to hear when she was doubting herself.

It wasn't some grand gesture that that changed Luke's mind but a series of small everyday actions that proved Jack was serious. For the first time in his life, Jack wasn't just chasing a fleeting thrill or looking for a quick escape. He had found something real, someone he didn't just want--someone he was willing to fight for.

Luke still gave them grief from time to time, teasing Jack about being whipped or Liz about how much Jack was her regular type. But deep down, he was happy for them.

Because if there was one thing Luke cared about more than anything, it was that Liz was happy. And she was--truly, deeply, happier than he'd ever seen her.

And that was all that mattered.