#i'm feeling lost and vulnerable right now

[pinkkop]

Another week has passed! And I'm still sticking to my weekly recap, though I know 2 weeks isn't super impressive but I'm sticking to this!! I've actually set up a whole system to make these posts and I'm probably going to make a post explaining how tomorrow (link to post)

As always, any constructive criticism is welcome and I'll probably keep improving this format for a while.

QL Recap for Week 2

The 6th of January to the 12th of January

🇹🇼 See Your Love

Episode 13 of 13 || Watching on: Gagaoolala

Final notes: This show was just so good and it definitely stuck the landing. Both couples were great, felt very fresh and I was super invested in both. If they'd had a longer runtime they could have definitely used more time on the core plot and the second couple but that's really more of a wish of mine. They used the time they had well and I can definitely see myself returning to this. And just the cherry on top of two great pairings came an interesting plot which didn't treat Shaopeng's disability as something to be fixed and instead showed all the ways he was perfect just the way he is.

🇹🇭 ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat

Episode 5 of 13 || Watching on: Youtube

Another great episode! Was a little surprised that Thame hadn't realized he has feelings for Po yet but at least we got there now. I'm not entirely sure what Jun's problem is yet but at least it seems like Po knows he is up to something. Nano's fear of failure and desperate need to not feel like a burden to other people was so relatable and I'm really happy they all were there to help him understand that it's okay to rely on other people. It's safe to say I'm very invested in this show!

🇹🇭 The Heart Killers

Episode 7 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube

Oh this was delicious! Just the intricacies of Bison and Fadel now also knowing Kant and Style's motives and pretending they don’t. The BB gun scene was insane because it felt very close to home when Bison and Fadel are used to being out shooting people but this was just for pretend. Two things were said in this scene which I'd bet was foreshadowing: Style asking to be allowed to help which might mean he'll be shooting a real gun in the future and Kant saying he'll shield Bison which I'd bet means he'll try and shield Bison for real in the future and might actually get shot. Overall the acting in this episode was phenomenal!! Particularly the final boat scene was just *chef's kiss*

🇹🇭 Your Sky

Episode 9 of 12 || Watching on: iQiYi

Oh they are just the sweetest boyfriends!! Can't wait for Hia and Real to finally get their shit together and have a proper talk but luckily they'll take steps towards that next week. This show is just my happy space right now.

🇹🇭 Fourever You

Episode 16 of 17? || Watching on: Gray

I'm still one episode ahead but I wont spoil anything so don't worry if you haven't seen episode 16. I feel a little bad but I was pretty happy about having an episode for just Johan and North. I absolutely adore them so it was so great get more background story on them. For some reason I thought this show was only 16 episodes so I have no clue what the total nr. of episodes are anymore. I wouldn't mind a couple of more episodes with Johan and North as the focus though because they're the highlight of this show for me. I do also love seeing the two friend groups and their friendships which to be honest I could use more of. I love that even the very masculine group of friends have each others backs and are able to be vulnerable in with each other.

🇯🇵 Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu

Episode 10 of 10 || Watching on: Gagaoolala

Final notes: Oh these two! This was such a good story of living in a world that doesn't accept you. Just two lonely lost boys finding love and a home in each other. Even when they get their happy ever aften they still live in a society where they have to hide and it just breaks my heart. I just hope they find better friends. Overall I really liked this show and how it was produced. I could easily feel the pain of these two and put myself in their place. It was by no means perfect but it was a good little show with all the things that made me enjoy watching it.

🇹🇭 Petrichor

Episode 7 of 10 || Watching on: iQiYi

I'm still enjoying this very much and putting the killer in-between our two main characters was so delicious. The crime plot and the romance are heavily intertwined and one enhances the other. This was the same with Spare Me Your Mercy but also the reason why when SMYM didn't develop the relationship enough it also affected the rest of the plot. I don't find that this is the same problem here though.

🇹🇭 Caged Again

Episode 10 of 10 || Watching on: Gagaoolala

Final notes: This concept was absolutely bonkers but they made it work really well. I loved how they played into the animal characters because it made it feel more believable and original and fun. I fully believed that the two were transformed from specific animals and it made it great. It kinda lost it's magic towards it's end but I still think its well worth a watch.

🇹🇭 Perfect 10 Liners

Episode 12 of 24 || Watching on: Youtube

I'm still invested in Gun and Yotha, and I'm loving Arc's presence in their lives. I however was very confused about Aou and Boom's couple suddenly getting screen-time. I like these two as actors but since their characters came into this show already established and with very little screen-time before this week I'm not invested in them at all.

🇹🇭 The Boy Next World

Episode 2 of 10 || Watching on: iQiYi

This show is suffering from the large amount of shows airing on Sunday because I'm struggling to pay enough attention to actually get invested. The acting and production value is there and I like the plot a lot but I usually get to this third so I'm usually tired and anxious about in being Sunday when I get to it which isn't an easy situation to get into a new show.

🇯🇵 Futtara Doshaburi

Episode 1 of 7 || Watching on: Gagaoolala

I don't understand how you can slowly start moving your beds away from each other in a relationship. They got some serious issues and desperately need to talk about it but are doing anything but that. I'm a little confused about the otsee your loher couples(?) dynamic, are they dating? Just roommates? They're acting like they're more than roommates at times but I guess we'll find out. I assume that all that is something we'll find out so I'm intrigued by this show, even if I worry a little that they'll get into "cheating" territory at some point which is not my cup of tea.

🇹🇭 Sangmin Dinneaw

Episode 3 of 8 || Watching on: iQiYi

Sangnim and Dinneaw are super cute and I love all the languange stuff and I'm also interested so see where the second couple goes. But other than that I kept thinking all episode: "What even is this show? " The Pony thing still isn't my kind of humor but I'm assuming someone is finding it funny. The third couple however, what even is the point of them? We don't know them at all so I'm not invested in them or their relationship and I don't even know what those sex scenes are? Like they're neither funny nor sexy, why are they there? This is the one time where I'll allow NC scenes to be called unnecessary. I'm just so confused so if anyone has any insights please let me know!! Maybe it's just not my thing? I don't ever remember watching a show where I really liked parts of if but then absolutely didn't like other parts.

🇨🇳 I'll Turn Back This Time

Episode 1 of 6 || Watching on: Gagaoolala

I really like Meet You at the Blossom so I'm very curious to see if this can live up to the hype. They pretty much speed ran "enemies to lovers to something more" so I'm worried that this will come back to bite them in the ass later. Either way I'm intrigued and I'll wait and see the show unfold more before I make more of a judgement on this show.

🇹🇼 Eternal Butler

Episode 5 of 12 || Watching on: Gagaoolala

I'm watching this incredibly casually because I'm not big on robots in romantic relationships and, like it's predecessor, Anti Reset, you shouldn't think too hard about the plot.

That's it for this week!

For links and airing schedule check out World of BL (Only for BLs)

[sinnershavesoulstoo]

I look at you and it hurts My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day hoping for more time to be with you To be in your presence, to feel the warmth of your body when we're close, to gently brush up against one another unexpectedly.

My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day imagining a future with you To be held, and loved, and cherished, to know what safety truly is when we're alone, to be intertwined - not just with our bodies, but our souls.

My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day replaying conversations with you To be told you'd be lost without me, to hear such soft and sincere praise when we're laughing, to wish you'd say more, mean more.

My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day breaking my own heart, because I'm in love with you. To be alone, and hopeless, and scared, to realize this is all one sided after all, to lose the last bit of hope I held onto and to finally fall apart.

[buckyalpine]

18+ fluffy, smutty, utterly debauched thot. I'm saying sorry now: Imagine dating a grumpy, rugged, Mob Bucky. Everything about him is all dark and broody from his chiseled clenched jaw and tattooed skin to the permanent scowl on his face. Even in bed, he's only ever dominant, not that you mind at all. In fact you thrive off it, loving the way he takes full control, tossing you around like a ragdoll till he's covered in sweat and you're covered in his cu-

His mask never falls; he doesn't show his emotions or mercy to anyone. He didn't get the title of the Winter Soldier out of nowhere.

But then comes the day where he's especially wound up. A weapons deal turned into a shoot out. He shot everyone dead within minutes but it was still irritating. The side of his ribs stung from where bullets had grazed his skin. That was one out of a thousand things that were pissing him off.

You peeked into his office after Steve had already given you a heads up that your grumpy boyfriend was in a mood. He was sitting at his desk, nursing his third glass of scotch as you padded over wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

"You okay?" You slink onto his lap, your fingers carding through his dark, fluffy locks. He lets out something between a sigh and a growl, the line between his brows more prominent, nothing easing his stress.

"M'fine" He grunts, letting his hands settle onto your plush thighs, the feeling of your skin already starting to settle his frayed nerves. You hum, sitting in a comfortable silence while his fingers start to roam up to the buttons of your shirt. "C'mere pretty girl"

Normally when Bucky gets into this kind of mood, he wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and utterly ruin you until you're a moaning mess with his name and juices dripping from your lips. Your cheeks heat up as he moves to unbutton your shirt, his cock throbbing when he finds you're not wearing anything underneath. Your pretty bare breasts sit right in front of his face and his lips immediately seal around your peaked nipple, sucking while his tongue toys and swirls around like he wants to taste every bit of you.

Your breasts are so warm and soft, he chases more trying to pull more of your pebbled bud into his mouth, desperate and greedy. The longer he suckles, the more he starts to slip into an unfamiliar territory, his mind going blank, fully focused on how good you feel in his mouth. He was already so fucking tired and stressed, he needed this so bad.

You can tell something about him is different as his eyes flutter closed, his arms wrapping around your body to pull you closer. You continue to play with his hair, now massaging his scalp and he whines feeling your gentle ministrations. The soft sound catches you off guard; did your broody boyfriend who most of the city was scared of really just whine while sucking at your boobs?

"What is it baby boy" You ask hesitantly, cupping his scruffy cheek, your thumb caressing his beard. He starts to slip further, moving to give your other breast attention while leaning into your touch. You were the most precious thing in his life. He loved hearing the sound of your voice while he lost himself, letting out another whine at the pet name you called him.

Baby boy.

He liked that.

He was always taking care of 101 things and for once, it felt nice to have someone take care of him. He loves the way you cradle his head like a child, your body shielding him from the rest of the world while he was vulnerable. He'd never let go of himself before, not like this. Not where he was clinging onto you like a needy baby, not even warming his cock, just nursing from you as if your breasts were feeding him the sweetest milk-

Fuck.

His cock throbs at the thought.

He was already so need for you, if your boobs were full, there would be no coming back. He'd constantly be seeking you out, shamelessly taking from you. His subby, empty little brain starts to wander further. On the one hand, no other man should see you the way he does. On the other, he would give anything to prop you on the desk while he sits at the head of the table, letting the others watch what they can't have. Unbutton your blouse just like this, sucking your full breasts, letting your milk leak onto his beard. Fuck, he'd make a show of groaning at how sweet you tasted, licking his lips, not bothering to wipe the droplets that dribbled down his chin. His enemies would have to sit there with their dicks hard in their pants while he told you how you fed the baby and him so well-

How did his mind get here-

"Look at me baby, you okay?" Your voice and the way you speak to him only amplifies what he's already feeling. At this point, there's a mess in his slacks from his arousal, precum leaking, he tries to keep his mouth shut by feeling it full but he really can't hold back.

"Can I put a baby in you?" He looks up at you with puppy eyes, a flash of something vulnerable passing though when he finally pulls away to look at you. "Please?"

Your stomach clenches at the way he's peering up at you, his thick cock ready to break out of his pants, pressing against your soaked cunt.

Could you imagine how worked up he'd be? The second you nod, he's working at his pants to pull his leaky cock out and he's never been this way before. The man prides himself in being able to fuck like a demon and now he's scrambling to stuff his dick in you, 99% sure he's going to cum like a virgin the second his pink tip breeches your hole. This feeling is all new to him, his chest heaving when you sink down on him.

He doesn't hold back at soon as he's all the way in, heavy, full sack ready to pump you till your belly was nice and round. He loves to run his mouth when he's feral and being subby doesn't change a thing.

"Want you to be a mommy" He pants, biting his lip when he feels you clench at his words. All you can do is moan, already way too close to cumming, you've never had your boyfriend like this and it absolutely does something to you. He latches onto your neck to muffle his needy whimpers, a stark contrast to his usual deep grunts.

"Y-yeah baby? You want to make me a mommy?"

"Wanna drink from you, wan you to gimme your milk" He doesn't look at you when he says this, keeping his face hidden in your neck while his hips thrust upwards. Everything about him is sinful and nothing is more sinful than the fat cock that was currently running your pussy but here he was, shy like a child.

"You can have all the milk you want baby boy" You press a kiss to his forehead and that just about does it. I need this man to blow his load like it's his first time having sex. He doesn't have a clue what's come over him but he fully gives into it, overstimulating himself by ruttig up as much as he can so his cock is deep in your pussy.

"M'getting you pregnant" He moans between broken cries when he feels a second orgasm building up, frantically picking you up and laying you onto the table, jack hammering his cock in while you practically squirt. "Gonna-gonna cum again, take it angel, m'putting my baby in your tummy, m'giving you all my kids, oh fuckkk, need you to have my baby pretty girl, please"

I want him to keep his soft cock in you, whimpering when your walls squeeze the last drops of cum out. He can barely move, holding onto you as he sits back on his chair, sweat clinging onto his forehead.

"Feel better?" You coo, still letting him feel whatever he needs as he floats in a postorgasm haze.

"All cause of you" He holds you tight, his sensitive cock twitching at the thought of how much of his spend he's just filled you with, in about an hour, he's going to give you at least one more-

Sorry. I'm sorry.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Soooo random but

I think that choso would be a total Baby when he’s sick. Especially since he’s only been human for a little bit. He hasn’t even expirenced a cold before. He’d probably get super clingy and whiny and need to be taken care of.

Crybaby Choso

Tags: Choso x gn!Reader, sick!choso, needy!choso, sfw, fluffy drabble

An: You're so right, anon. I totally see Choso just being a whiny little crybaby when he's sick, but he's cute so he gets away with it.

"Baby." A deep raspy voice pulls you from your slumber, but you're not mad. You'd know that voice from anywhere.

"Yes baby?" You ask groggily, not even opening your eyes yet.

"Something's wrong..." Choso responds, giving you another nudge so you'll finally open your eyes.

"Hm? What's wrong?" You murmur, using your hands to wipe the sleep from your eyes. It's pitch black in your room, and a quick glance at your phone reveals that it's 2 in the morning.

"I don't feel right. I think I'm dying." Your sweet boyfriend's voice sounds so panicked. You also remember the one time he thought he was going to die because he stubbed his toe on the couch one morning.

Your boyfriend is incredibly strong and a skilled fighter. He knows just how to be rough around the edges, and he's not afraid to get dirty. It's the little things about being human that turn him into such a whiny mess.

You don't mind though. It warms your heart that he feels safe enough around you to drop the tough curse persona. He lets you get a front row seat of his vulnerabilities.

"What doesn't feel right, baby?" You ask in a soft tone. Your hands find his naked body underneath the blankets. He never liked sleeping with clothes on. His body felt warm and feverish under your touch.

"My stomach feels uneasy, and my head is pounding. I also can't breathe through my nose." Ah, classic symptoms of the man-flu. Choso is likely sick, but he's new to being human... and he's a man, which makes him a total crybaby when he's sick.

"Oh, you poor thing. C'mere." You murmur to him, and he immediately scoots over to you, lying his heavy, sweaty body on you. "Not that close, Choso-" You grunt from lying underneath his weight.

"I need you, baby. What if these are our final moments?" He whines, causing you to let out a small giggle from his overdramatic personality.

"You're not going to die." You assure him with another small laugh before grabbing his jaw and directed his forehead to your lips. You feel the heat from his head tingle your skin. He is running a fever.

His breath is coming out in small pants. You hum softly as you rise from the bed. "Where are you going, baby?" Choso whines like a lost puppy as he immediately tries to follow you.

You place a firm hand on his shoulder, preventing him from getting up from the bed. "I'm not going anywhere. Relax, honey. You're running a fever, so I'm going to go get you some medicine." You try to reassure him, but he gives you those puppy-dog eyes and that cute little pout. You know he's just a needy mess right now. "Be right back, promise." You press a quick kiss to his temple before venturing off to the bathroom to look in the medicine cabinet.

With you assortment of brews and potions (warm tea, medicine, and a small bowl of chicken noodle soup), you come back into the bedroom to find Choso helplessly holding your pillow, cuddling it closely to his chest with tears brimming his eyes.

"You must be really feeling bad, honey. Look. I got you some stuff to help you feel better." You mumble softly to him as you crawl into the bed next to him.

"You took forever. I don't think I can live without you when I'm like this, baby. You have to call off work tomorrow." How can you say no to such a pitiful expression? His face is pale with the exception of his poor little nose, which is rosy tint from sniffling.

"Okay, baby. I'll stay home." You respond with a small laugh before he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"Can we cuddle and watch that show you really like, please?" He asks as his nose nudges at your neck, indulging his desire for your scent. He genuinely can't fathom going without you right now.

"Of course, baby. Whatever you want." You respond as you hand him the medicine and cup of tea. He, of course, makes a disgusted face as he tries to swallow the pills. Poor thing.

The rest of the week is dedicated to nursing poor Choso back to health through the power of kisses, cuddles, head petting, and Love is Blind. By the end of the week, he's back to his slightly-less-needy self..... aaaand you start to feel like shit! He ever so graciously passed his germs on to you.

[killiaia]

SEXTAPE

Last fic of 2024.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Rosé x male reader.

"Thanks, man."

You thank the cashier and exit the store. You take out your phone and notice again that you have zero messages. You've been back from your mission for several weeks but you still have zero replies from Rosé.

But when you open your social networks, you see her everywhere. You see her and Bruno Mars. Literally, they're everywhere. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tiktok. Any application, they're there.

And it hurts. It hurts to see your girlfriend with someone else. It hurts to have no messages. It hurts not to hear from her, you don't even know if you're in the same country.

And tonight, you decided to clear your head. You got on your motorcycle and set off. Where? You don't know, you don't care. You just needed to get away.

Here you are, in a gas station deep in the Korean countryside. It's now 3:43 a.m. and you're drinking a can of Coke.

You're about to leave when you feel your phone vibrate.

Jennie is calling. You pick up and find yourself face to face with her.

"Hey.." says a sleepy Jennie.

"Hi, gorgeous. You're not asleep? "

"No, I'm not. You weren't answering messages, we were worried with the girls. "

"Oh. I'm sure Lisa, Jisoo and you did. Rosé, not sure. "

"Sweetie.." goes Jennie.

"I don't even know if we're on the same continent. I know I'm in no position to say this with my profession but... it hurts. "

"I know it does. But sweetie, where are you right now? "

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

You look around for a sign. After a few seconds of searching, you find one.

"I'm not far from Gimhae."

"Sweetie! "Jennie says in shock. "You're not far from Busan! "

"Oh." You reply in turn. "I guess I needed to clear my head. "

"I'll call Rosé. You need her. "

"I need all of you. I need her, you, Lisa and Jisoo. "You answer sincerely. "I don't know, I'm lost, I guess. "

"I'm calling Rosé. Don't move, sweetie

"

You want to tell her no but you don't have time Jennie has already left.

You sigh and finish your can, which you throw away. You wait several minutes and decide to get back on your bike.

You're about to turn on the ignition but once again your phone vibrates. You click on accept and Rosé's face appears.

It's daylight where she is. She looks beautiful and happy. You want to say something, but Bruno Mars' voice cuts you off.

"Come on, Rosé! We're having so much fun, you'll see your boyfriend later! "

It's the final straw for you. You notice Rosé's panicked look on the camera just before you cut the call.

You put your phone away and get back on your bike. You turn on the ignition and take off. You have no direction in mind. You just know you have to go.

With each vibration of your phone, you accelerate. You zigzag between cars, you run a red light, you overtake another car, you run a stop sign and you haven't seen the car.

----

"Everything's going to be okay. "Rosé's mother says softly.

Rosé cries in her mother's arms. His father strokes his hair, but Rosé is devastated.

Ever since your accident, Rosé has been a shadow of her former self.

Following your accident, Rose cancelled all promotions with Bruno Mars.

When you hung up, Rosé tried to call you several times, but when you didn't answer, she called Jennie. Jennie tried to call you but you didn't answer - it was only several hours later that Jennie received a call telling you of your accident.

Jennie called Rosé in tears and booked a private jet to Busan. You were taken to a Busan hospital, the best one because Jennie paid for it.

"If he dies, I'll never forgive you. "Jennie told Rosé.

Rosé enters your hospital room and collapses. Seeing you so vulnerable makes her legs buckle. Your right leg is in plaster and so is your right arm. Your head is covered in bandages, as is your torso.

"He's asleep. "says a voice from behind Rosé and her parents.

They all turn around and come face to face with your father. Rosé runs to him and takes him in her arms.

"I'm so sorry.

"It's not your fault, Chaeyoung. He made his own choices and these are his consequences... "Your father replies softly.

Rosé's parents come forward.

"Hello. I'm sorry we have to meet like this..."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N's father. "

Your father and Rosé's parents leave the room. Rosé walks over to your bed and gently grabs your hand. Your hand is cold and Rosé tries to warm it.

Gently, Rosé places a kiss on your forehead. You let out a groan of pain and Rose apologizes.

"I'm sorry, my love." Rose panics.

She grabs a chair and sits down beside you.

"Ah. There you are. "says a voice from behind Rosé.

Rosé turns and looks at Jennie. She didn't hear her come in. Rosé watches Jennie settle in across from her. Jennie takes her hand and Rosé gives her a questioning look.

"What?" asks Jennie. "You've got nothing to say. "

"Really? Are we really going to have this discussion now? "

"You don't deserve him. He loves you." Jennie lets go.

"I love him more than anything! " says Rosé.

"You respond to the one you love. You don't leave him unanswered for weeks." says Jennie.

"Come to the point, Jennie. "

"I don't think this relationship is right for either of you. You two should break up. "

"Are you serious? We break up and just like that, you get him back, right? "

"He'd be better off with me. "

"Go fuck yourself. Don't even go near him. " threatens Rosé.

"What are you going to do about it? You're never around. You shoot clips with other guys talking about your exes."

"What's going on here?" says a voice behind them.

Lisa enters the room. Rosé and Jennie look at each other, ignoring the Thai woman.

"Get out, both of you. "Lisa says.

Jennie's words stick in Rosé's head. Rosé waits for Jennie to leave and leaves the room. The Australian joins your father.

"Is something going on with Jennie? "

"She's in love with Y/N. "

"Oh." says your father.

"I love your son. I love him more than anything. Believe me, if I weren't an idol, I'd already have your last name. "

"I'd love to have you in the family. ", replies your father.

"I know with everything going on, my music, Bruno Mars.... But I swear I love your son. It's business, nothing ever happened. "

"Chaeyoung. I trust you 100%. My son didn't give you time to explain and he's going to have to face the consequences, but I know you'll support him. "

"I'll take care of Jennie. ", Rosé replies. "Lisa's talking to her. "

"If someone had told me my son would have two idols fighting over him. "Laughs your father.

Rosé laughs.

"I've contacted his team. He won't be able to accept assignments for a while. "

"Good. I don't know if he told you, but a few months ago he came back injured. "Rosé confesses it to your father.

Your father sighs. 'You've never talked much about your work with your father. You know he supports you, but you don't want to worry him.

"I guess he doesn't want me to worry. But not hearing from him worries me. "

Rosé rests her head against your father's shoulder.

"We're going to help him. "

Your father places a kiss on the top of Rosé's head.

"I'm so happy to have you in the family. "

----

* A few months later. *

"You're fit to go on another mission. "

You thank the medical officer and feel Rosé's grip tighten. With your thumb, you caress her hand in a gesture of comfort. You leave the military hospital. Rosé hasn't said a word.

"I'm not leaving just yet baby. "You say to Rosé.

"Not now, but who knows. In a few days, you could be called up. "

"Rosé..." you sigh. "I'm still you and Blackpink's bodyguard. "

"Stay away from Jennie. " Rosé says seriously.

"You're going to have to fix the problem you have with Jennie. I'm serious, baby. I'm not going to leave you for her. "

You get into Rosé's car and notice that Rosé is upset.

"I'm not going to be able to avoid her. You're in the same group, I'm going to do my job and that's it. "

"I swear, if she tries anything. " warns Rosé.

"She already has. "You say nonchalantly.

Rosé slams on the brake and thank goodness you're strapped in. You'd have ended up in the windshield.

"WHAT?"

"She was drunk. It was at one of your galas. You were already asleep. I went downstairs to get Jennie and Lisa. Jennie was completely drunk, Lisa could hardly contain her and you know Jennie. When she's drunk she's extremely horny. "

"What did she do? "asks Rosé.

You notice Rosé's red skin, a sign that she's upset.

"Fact, nothing. It was more in her words. She was in "Oh, I'm sure I suck better than Rosé" mode.

"That bitch. "Said Rosé, slapping her steering wheel.

"I defended you. " You reply.

"What did you say? "

"I told her that the way you sucked my cock was the best thing in the world and that I couldn't stop cumming in your mouth. "

Rosé is shocked by your answer. You notice her clenching her thighs.

"But she went on. She said her pussy was tighter than yours. Of course I defended you, said your pussy was made for my cock. "

Rosé lets out a little "Oh".

"Continue. "says Rosé in a small voice.

"And of course Jennie talked about anal. But my answer shut her up. "

"And what was your answer. "

"I told her that while she was doing her solo during your concert in Australia, you were bent over with my cock in your ass and Lisa was watching you get your ass taken."

"Fuck.." mutters Rosé.

"I had to defend my girlfriend. " You reply nonchalantly. "So you don't have to worry my love. I much prefer your pussy and your ass."

"Baby.." whines Rosé.

"And speaking of which, drive us to your place. I want to fuck you. "

Rosé nods slowly and turns on the ignition. You laugh softly.

----

"Fuuuck Rosé. "

You're just a toy to her. You're completely at Rosé's mercy. The Australian engulfs your cock in her mouth and you're forced to moan.

"I love your fucking mouth so much. "

As Rosé responds, she sucks you faster. You help her with your hand. You grab her ponytail and force her to take your whole cock in your mouth.

Ever since you told her the story about Jennie, Rosé hasn't missed a chance to suck or fuck you.

And here you are, sitting on your sofa with this goddess kneeling between your legs.

"You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. I should take a picture of you. "

"Do it." replies Rosé seriously. "That way when Jennie asks you you can show her the picture. "

You don't waste any time. You pick up your phone and plant it in front of Rosé.

Rosé takes your cock out of her mouth and starts licking it. She stops and poses, sticking her tongue to your cock. You press the button and there you are with a beautiful photo of Rosé with your cock.

"Film. We're going to film. "Rosé replies seriously.

Although surprised, you accept her request. You switch to video mode and concentrate on Rose like a porn director.

"Look at that pretty girl with my dick in her mouth. You suck me so well. "

"That's because I'm your good girl. "

"You are. " You reply, shoving your cock into her mouth.

"Take a look. She sucks me so good. Are you addicted to my cock? "

Rosé nods. She's far too busy sucking your dick to answer.

"I'm still thinking about where I'm going to cum. In your mouth or on your face? "

"My mouth. "Rosé replies seriously. "Good girls don't waste. "

"You're right. You're going to drink all my cum. "

Rosé nods and continues her oral assault on your cock. With her hands, she jerks you off and accentuates with tongue strokes on your tip.

You continue filming.

"Would you like us to show Jennie how well you take care of my cock? "

"Hey Jennie. "Makes Rosé look at the phone lens. "Watch how well I take care of my boyfriend's dick. I suck it so well, look. "

To accentuate her words, Rosé engulfs your cock again and bops her head, causing you to moan.

"Fuck, you're so good with your mouth Rose. Jennie look how good she is. Look how good my good girl is at sucking my cock."

Excited by your words. Rosé starts to slide her hand under her skirt and thong.

"Oh but actually she's a bad girl. Look, she's starting to touch herself, this naughty girl. “

Rosé takes off her thong and starts touching her pussy. By the sound alone, you can hear how wet she is. Rosé continues to suck you.

"I'm going to cum soon, Rosé. "You tell her.

"Into my mouth. "

Rosé steps back and you stand up. You start stroking your cock.

"Paint me. Cum in my mouth, I'll show her how much I love your cum. "

You speed up the movement around your cock and feel yourself coming quickly. You position your cock over Rosé's wide-open mouth.

After several quick strokes back and forth, you cum. You empty yourself into Rosé's mouth. Several jets of cum land in the singer's mouth. Mouth wide open and full of cum, you approach the camera.

"Swallow. "You order Rosé.

Rosé listens and swallows in one gulp. She opens her mouth again and shows you that she's swallowed it all.

"What a good girl to listen to Daddy. "You say to Rosé and the camera. "Lie down on the sofa and spread your legs, I'm going to eat your pussy."

Rosé listens and complies. The singer removes her skirt and spreads her legs, presenting you with her pussy.

You get down on your knees and put the phone in front of her pussy. With your free hand, you spread the folds of her pussy.

"Look at that beautiful pussy. Just for me. "

You pass the camera to Rosé as you begin to lick her.

"Oh my God. "says Rosé, pointing her head at the camera. "Daddy licks me so good. "

Rosé presses the screen and films you eating her pussy.

"Fuuuck. Look at him eating my pussy. Do you like eating my pussy?" Rosé asks you

"I love it so much. Your pussy tastes divine. It's almost intoxicating. "

To accentuate your words, you catch her clit between your lips and suck it, drawing her into your mouth.

"Daddy, finger me. "

You listen to Rose, still concentrating on her clit, you tuck a finger into her pussy. The double pressure drives Rosé crazy.

"You show Jennie how I eat your pussy?"

"Fuuuck yes. I might even show Lisa and Jisoo. "

"In that case, I need to concentrate. "

With your gaze fixed on the lens, you suck Rosé's clit again and insert a second finger into her pussy, causing Rosé to howl with pleasure.

Rosé tries to film anyway, despite the pleasure she's feeling.

"You...will...have...to...send...me...the...video..." articulates Rosé between each moan.

You nod, still concentrating on giving her pleasure. You lick her pussy, start by licking her hole and work your way up to her clit.

"The girls are going to be jealous to see how you're eating my pussy."

You put a finger back in her pussy and suck on her clit again and Rose starts undulating her pelvis against your mouth.

"That's it. You're going to sit on my face. "

You stand up and Rose looks at you. You help her up. You take the opportunity to kiss her and Rosé continues filming.

"A little kiss for the camera? "asks Rosé.

You grab her and kiss her full on the lips. You take the opportunity to finger her pussy and Rosé moans into your mouth.

"Her pussy is so wet. Listen to her. "

You insert a second finger and finger Rosé. The sound her pussy makes is so beautiful. It's so wet. You continue your assault on her little pussy and Rosé almost falls over as she moans so loudly.

You cut short the pleasure and bring your juicy fingers from Rosé's pussy to the singer's mouth. Rosé hastens to lick your soaked fingers.

"What a good girl. She sucks my juicy fingers. Does your pussy taste good? " You ask Rosé and the camera.

Rosé nods, continuing to lick your fingers. Her gaze is so sexy, so provocative.

You tap her on the ass and Rosé flinches with excitement. You give Rosé your phone back and lie down on the sofa. Rosé climbs on. Her pussy over your face, you grab her ass and let Rosé fall on your face. The shock is almost violent, but it's not serious.

For your part, you lick the young woman greedily. Her pussy is an aphrodisiac today, you can't do without it. Rosé grabs your hair and starts straddling your face. Phone still in hand, Rosé films herself straddling you.

"Watch how he eats my pussy."

Rosé lovingly strokes your hair.

"You see, Jennie, Oppa's too busy licking my pussy."

You could almost laugh at Rosé's jealousy. Playfully, you grab her ass and press her pussy against your mouth.

"Fucking look, I love it so much. "

With your tongue, you lick everything possible. Her lips, her hole, her clit.

"I love it so much when you eat my pussy. I'm going to cum so hard in your mouth. "

With your hands you spread her buttocks and titillate her asshole.

"Oh fuck. Take care of my holes. "

You put pressure on her holes and Rose is nothing but a mess. Still filming you, the young woman straddles your face. She picks up the pace and you can feel that Rosé is not far from cumming. You decide to go faster with your tongue and without warning, you feel Rosé's pussy contract against your tongue. You receive her full juices in your mouth.

Rosé lets out an almost bestial sound and the young woman nearly smothers you with her thighs.

Realizing this, Rosé pushes herself off your face and lies on your chest. And of course, as a global star, Rosé doesn't forget the camera.

"I came so hard with Oppa's mouth. "

You laugh and stroke her hair. Rosé turns her face to you and smiles.

"Ready? " you ask.

"Always ready. " Rosé replies.

"In that case, give me the phone and get down on all fours. "

Rosé listens, hands you the phone and moves into position. You get up and stand behind the singer. Like a porn director, you zoom in on her buttocks and pussy.

You slap her ass and Rose moans. She glances over her shoulder at you and you fuck her pussy. With your hand, you spread her ass.

"Look at that beautiful pussy."

You zoom in with the camera and Rosé waddles her ass. You stand up and position your cock in front of her entrance. Rosé's pussy is so wet that you enter easily. The movement elicits a groan from both of you.

"I'm sliding so fucking good in your pussy. You're so wet I didn't even have to strain. "

With the phone you film the movements of your cock in her vagina.

It's worthy of the greatest porn movies. You never thought you'd do it, but here you are. Filming yourself taking one of kpop's biggest stars doggy-style at her request.

"Fuck. I could never do without your pussy. It was made for me. "

Rosé moans. The young woman literally fucks herself on your cock, head against the couch, mouth open, Rosé just a toy at this point.

"Look, she loves it when I do this. "

With your free hand you slap her ass. Rosé screams with pleasure.

"I told you. She loves it when I slap her ass."

You slap her ass again.

"It helps her come. " You say to the camera.

Rosé says nothing, the young woman continues to move her pelvis. You can hear the sound of flesh against flesh. You're lucky you don't have neighbors.

"She's about to come. I feel the walls of her pussy tighten around my cock. "

Rosé nods and increases the pace. You decide to do the same. You pick up the pace and with your free hand you grab one of her buttocks. Your balls hit her ass and your loins propel Rosé limitlessly against the wall behind the sofa.

"Harder! Make me come and come inside me. "

Who are you not to listen to this goddess. You grab her hip with your good hand and place the camera next to her on the table. The angle is perfect. With both hands, you grab her hips and start plundering Rosé's pussy.

"Yes...YES!"

Almost animalistically, you climb onto the sofa, giving yourself a new angle of penetration. With this new angle, you accentuate the pleasure of both of you.

In this position, you totally dominate Rosé. Rosé can do nothing but receive your cock strokes.

But that's what the singer wants, so you speed up your movements.

It's beastly. You're just trying to make her come. And after several strokes, you come together.

The combination of your orgasms is powerful. You feel your legs buckle and you quickly catch yourself before you fall. You've come so much that you feel your cock being expelled from her pussy.

You catch your breath and see Rosé breathless, lying back on the sofa. You also see your cum coming out of her pussy. 

You stand up, grab the phone and point to Rosé's cunt filled with your cum.

"And that's the end. "You say to the camera. "

Rosé is so full that it's spilling out of her pussy. 

With your hand you spread the folds of her pussy and watch your cum fall onto the sofa. 

You put the camera up to Rosé's face and ask. 

"Any last words Rosie? "

Rosé looks at the camera and says to Jennie.

"You'll never have him and his cock belongs to me. "

You laugh and pat her on the ass.

[sunsets-and-crows]

Claws

Thinking about how excited Syus will be when he meets you in his human life, one where he doesn't have claws.

If Sylus’ claws were anything like the talons of other animals, sharp, tough and made from keratin, they’d probably lack the sensitivity of human skin right? Claws are built for strength and precision, not for fine-tuned sensations. In his dragon form: he could touch, sure, but never really feel. Everything would be dulled, fleeting, like wearing gloves or pressing your fingers against glass to touch a hand on the other side. Softness, heat, the delicate texture of skin - it would all be a vague pressure, a constant reminder that he could never hold anything delicate without ruining it.

But now, in his human life, it was as if the gods had handed him salvation wrapped in smooth skin and scarred knuckles. His hands - alive, real - were suddenly made for touch. Where his claws had been brutal precision, his fingers were reverence incarnate. The man is experiencing true touch for the first time, he's suddenly hyperaware of everything. The softness of your cheek? Heavenly. The silkiness of your hair? A revelation. The curve of your body beneath his hands? Enough to make him lose his damn mind., turning him feral.

And let’s not forget - this man would be obsessed with the contrast. Where his claws once tore through flesh and scales, his human hands now worship your body. He’d be almost weeping at how tenderly he can hold you, feeling the pulse beneath your skin, the heat radiating from you. Every little shiver, every sigh, every slight twitch beneath his touch would make his breath catch.

Sylus wouldn’t just touch you - he’d memorise you. Because after a lifetime of dull sensation, feeling you would be a kind of salvation. A reminder that he’s human now. That you’re real. And that, for the first time, he’s capable of experiencing you the way he’s always longed to. Like I'm sure he misses being a dragon right? That's his true form. But now he can touch you so much more intimately.

Sylus couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you - human hands, strong and scarred, yes, but without the claws that once kept him a world away. It was as if the universe were apologising, granting him this form and, with it, the ability to feel you. To touch without hesitation, without fear of breaking something so precious. And gods, you were precious.

When he first brushed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, he nearly lost himself, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears prickling his eyes. His breath stilled in his chest, his throat dry as he traced the curve of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. He marveled at the way his hands could experience you, so different from the sensation in his past life. Your skin gave beneath his touch as though you’d been made of the finest silk, warm and pliant. His hands shook - this creature of power, reduced to something tender, vulnerable. The lump in his throat swelled as he traced the curve of your jaw, every nerve in his body alight with disbelief.

“You’re real,” he murmured, his voice frayed and raw. His crimson eyes wide with something vulnerable. For so long, he had dreamed of holding you without the fear of tearing you apart. And now here you were, soft and impossibly human, letting him touch you. He didn’t have to pull away, didn’t have to fear shredding you apart with an errant motion.

You stared at him, confusion flickering across your features as his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, lingering like he was committing you to memory. There was something in his eyes - softness, longing, love - that didn’t make sense. Not to you.

To Sylus, it was everything. Each motion of his fingers poured out a devotion you couldn’t recognise, couldn’t return. It wasn’t your fault; the memories that should have connected you to him - moments of fire and flight, lifetimes of love and loss - were lost, swallowed up by time or fate.

She doesn’t remember.

The realization tore at him every time you looked at him like this - like he was a stranger. A stranger with hands that shook as he touched you, as though afraid you might slip through his grasp. You were here, now, yet still out of reach. It didn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him.

He traced your face with reverence, his voice low, almost broken. “I’ll remind you,” he whispered, as if making a promise to himself. “Even if it takes a lifetime.”

The first time he braided your hair was seared into his memory with the same intensity as the sun scorching the horizon on the plains. He’d always admired your hair - how it shimmered like liquid in the light - but feeling it slip between his fingers was an entirely new kind of pleasure. It was silk spun into strands, each section gliding so smoothly that he paused often, distracted by the sensation. His large hands, which had once been tipped with razor-sharp talons, now worked with gentle precision, twisting and weaving each section of hair into something beautiful. It shimmered between them, the strands gliding so effortlessly that he forgot what he was doing half the time. His fingers lingered, threading and unthreading, so gentle you might’ve thought him afraid. He whispered things to himself as he worked - praises, almost prayers. Perfect.

But for all those soft touches, Sylus craved more. He had always been a creature of need, a being meant to hoard and devour desire and you were his most dangerous indulgence. And when he finally had you beneath him, bare and trembling, he felt that dangerous edge of hunger blur into a new kind of worship.

His hands explored you like they’d been made for it, each touch deliberate, almost reverent. His thick fingers dragged slowly over the slopes of your body, mapping every dip and curve, every inch of skin that drew a gasp from you. The sensation of your softness giving way to him was intoxicating - a pliant warmth he could lose himself in.

And when he pressed his fingers into you for the first time, he nearly groaned aloud at how you welcomed him. His breath hitched, a groan slipping unbidden from his lips as your body welcomed him. You were wet, silken, warm - a sensation so profound he swore his vision blurred. He flexed his thick fingers, feeling you pulse and cling to him as though you’d been made for this.

“Perfect,” he rasped, voice rough as gravel. He pressed his other palm flat against your hips, holding you still when you squirmed. His crimson gaze burned as he watched the way your body responded, the flush spreading down your chest, the gasps spilling from your lips. “I could do this forever,” he murmured, curling his fingers until he found that spot that had you arching beneath him. “Watch you come apart on my hands alone.”

Each moan and gasp he pulled from you ignited his own desire until he was no better than the humans he used to devour for the same crime. This was humanity, this was what feeling truly was.

His mind spun with the contrast - once, those hands had been weapons, tools for destruction. But now, they coaxed pleasure from you with an ease that made his heart race. It drove him mad, the privilege of it. How you let him hold you, mark you, ruin you - and yet, there you were, looking at him like he’d placed the stars in the sky. Sylus gripped you tighter, palms sliding possessively over your thighs, your hips, the curves that had been haunting him since that first, fateful touch.

In this life, Sylus didn’t need his claws to leave you ruined. He had you, undone and gasping, by the sheer force of his hands alone. He curled his fingers inside you, finding the spot that had you throwing your head back and bucking up to press his fingers deeper inside you. As he drank in the sound of your whimpers and the flush blooming across your chest, Sylus finally understood the truth:

You were his treasure - one he could touch, hold, and break apart as many times as he liked. And gods, he planned to.

➽──────────────────────────────────❥

One day, I might be able to write something about a different LI. Today is not that day. This started as pure horny thoughts about Sylus' hands and now I don't know how to behave.

[leashybebes]

Hi! Love your work so much! I have a very vague prompt and it’s just Tommy being emotionally vulnerable with Buck. Idc what about I just need this man in tears please and thanks.

well this got longer than intended! i've skimmed over it but basically banged it out in fifteen minutes bc turns out i also need this man in tears

When the bubble pops six weeks after Tommy walked out of the loft, it's not at all what Buck was expecting. He'd hoped for an 'I'm sorry', an 'I was wrong', an 'I want you back'. In bitter moments, he'd even hoped for Tommy to say something really dickish so Buck could just hate him and get on with his life. Hell, even a random string of letters that Buck could interpret as an accident or an attempt to open the lines of communication depending on his mood.

What he gets is:

I've been going to therapy

Finally, right?

I hate it

And then radio silence for the better part of an hour. Buck is about to tear his hair out. He drafts and doesn't send half a dozen responses. The loft smells of chocolate cake by the time the next message comes through.

Sorry, call.

Tell me to get lost, it's fine. But I was wondering if we could talk. I owe you an explanation.

Buck reads it twice, takes the cake out of the oven to cool. Scrolls back up to read the messages from the start. Later, once the cake is filled with sharp redcurrant jelly and covered in a perhaps overly generous layer of toffee buttercream, he picks up his phone again.

I owe you an explanation is glaring at him.

Yeah you do, he sends back. Come over when your shift is done.

The reply is almost instant:

Thank you. 2 hrs.

Two hours suddenly feels like both not enough time to prepare, and far too much time to tie himself up in knots. He deep cleans the kitchen, makes a shopping list, checks in with Maddie. He doesn't mention that he's going to see Tommy.

Somehow, two hours pass in the blink of an eye and Buck realizes - he has no idea what he's going to say. He's spent the last month and a half trying with everything in him not to call Tommy, and he's just now realizing he has no idea what he would have said if he'd given into the urge. Maybe he just wanted to hear the guy's voice, and now he's about to, and he has no idea what to do with himself.

The knock at the door makes him jolt, and that's it, there's no more time to think. His first thought when he opens the door is that it's not fair that Tommy looks so good. He has no business looking so good. His hair is freshly trimmed, those greys at his temple that admittedly send Buck a little feral sparkling in the low light of the hall, his favorite blue Henley soft and stretched across the bulk of his chest, his eyes - Buck's whole train of thought derails because he looks again and Tommy looks - scared. Sad. Like he's holding back from flinching by the skin of his teeth.

"Hey, Tommy."

"Hi, Evan."

Evan, he notes. Steps back. Waves Tommy inside. Tries not to notice the way Tommy's face crumples a little as he steps over the threshold.

"Never thought I'd be here again," he says.

"Me either," Buck admits. "Well, after the first couple weeks when I - " When I sat around and waited for you to come back and tell me you made a mistake. He bites his tongue. Much as he wants to be real bitchy about this, Tommy looks like he is on the edge, and nothing in Buck wants to make that worse.

"You want a coffee?"

"Uh. Sure," Tommy says, and it gives Buck the opportunity to turn his back, to breathe. He's achingly aware of Tommy behind him, of the gravity of his presence, the sound of his breathing (a little shaky), the slight creak as he takes a seat. Buck still has the stupid almond milk and the stupid syrup Tommy likes in his stupid candy flavored coffee, has been buying the former on reflex and can't bring himself to use the latter and taste Tommy's kisses without the man himself. He makes the coffee, even cuts Tommy a slice of cake, and dumps them both in front of him.

Tommy blinks down at the cake, up at Buck. "You made that?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "Been getting real into baking since - well, since."

"Oh." Tommy chews on his lip, looks away again.

"Every time I wanna call you, I bake," Buck admits, the words falling into the silence between them with more weight than they deserve given how ridiculous they are, really.

Tommy glances up at him. "Yeah?"

Buck swivels, pulls open the door to his fridge which is still groaning under the weight of saran wrapped loaves and cakes and tupperwares full of cookies.

"That's - that's a lot."

Buck shrugs. "Yeah, well."

The silence is painful. Awkward in a way they've never really been with each other. Buck throws himself down onto the stool opposite Tommy, tries not to think about how this is exactly where they were sitting when - when. From the look on his face, the way Tommy can't meet his eyes, he's thinking the exact same thing. This is - it's the worst, Buck thinks miserably.

"So, therapy, huh?" he blurts out.

Tommy nods, takes a deep breath. "After I left that night, I - I drove to the movie theater."

Buck blinks. That is…not what he was expecting. "Uh…"

"Bought a ticket and everything. Realized on my way in that that's - that's not normal. Nothing I did that night was normal. You - you made me so happy, and I blew that up the second it sounded like maybe you wanted something long-term. That - that's not normal. The way I think about - about relationships, about love, about myself. It's not normal."

Buck feels like he's holding his breath.

"So I went home. Drank a couple of beers. Psyched myself up. Booked an appointment for the next day."

"That's…" Buck doesn't know what to say. "That's quick."

"Yeah. I don't - " Tommy looks away. Buck can't see it, but he can tell that he's bouncing his leg anxiously. "I wanna stop being a fucking - a wrecking ball. I wanna stop hurting people, stop hurting myself, but it feels like it's all I do."

Buck can't bite his tongue quick enough. "You make choices, Tommy."

Tommy nods and shrinks in on himself. "I know that. I do. It doesn't feel like it, but I do. I get scared and I make the worse choice every time because it's easier than being brave, and I tell myself it's the only choice but - it's not. I know that. I do know that. I'm - I'm so fucked up, Evan."

His eyes are swimming with tears and Buck knows he's no better. Everything in him is screaming at him to reach out, but he clenches his hands together under the table to stop himself. This is - this is maybe the most real Tommy's ever been with him, maybe the most real he's seen Tommy be with himself, and Buck doesn't want to interrupt it, even as every part of him wants to gather Tommy up to him and soothe him and promise him everything's okay. Everything's so far from okay. He watches Tommy take a few deep breaths, recognises the pattern and the count from his own therapy sessions.

"My - my dad - you know, he's an asshole. But he wasn't always. He and my mom - they were so in love. I mean, stars in their eyes, to the exclusion of everything and everyone else, they adored each other. Even before she died, I didn't - there wasn't space for me in there. And after - I guess I remind him of what he lost. They loved each other, and it hurt me. Abby loved me, and I hurt her. I loved N - Nick, and he h - hurt me. I - "

Tommy clears his throat wetly and looks away while Buck thinks who the fuck is Nick and how do I break his kneecaps?

"You what, Tommy?" he asks instead, and it comes out gently.

"I love you," Tommy says, and Buck pretends he isn't paying attention to the tense, pretends his heart isn't rabbiting inside his chest. "I love you, and I hurt us both and I'm - I'm poison, Evan, I'm nothing but sharp edges but I swear I'm trying not to be and I know it's too late but I'm so - I'm so sorry, I'm so - "

He's fully crying now, trying to hide his face in his hands and Buck can't hold back anymore, closes the space between them and gets his arms around the bulk of Tommy's shoulders where they're shaking.

"Don't," Tommy begs, his whole body tightening, so tense Buck's worried something is going to snap. "Don't - d - don't - I don't deserve - "

"Shh," Buck says, pressing his face into Tommy's hair and stopping himself from making it a kiss at the last second. "I don't care what you think you deserve, just let me hold you, okay? Just let me."

Tommy cries harder, soaking Buck's shirt, and Buck doesn't know how long it goes on for but suddenly Tommy's holding him too, clinging in a way he never has before, in a way that feels desperate and fierce and heartbroken.

"It's okay," Buck promises in spite of himself. He strokes his fingers over the short cropped hairs on the nape of Tommy's neck. "I've got you, it's okay. Just try to breathe, baby, you're gonna make yourself sick."

Baby slips out without any intention on his part, but Tommy doesn't seem to notice, just heaves in a hitching, gulping breath, then another, and another. He shifts in Buck's arms, pulling away and Buck lets him. He doesn't retreat to his own seat though, doesn't feel right to put any distance between them while Tommy presses the heels of his hands into his eyes like he can force the tears back inside.

"I'm sorry," he says, when he's a little calmer. "I've got no right - "

"Stop, okay. Just - stop being so horrible to yourself."

Tommy nods. "Yeah. Working on that. I know - I know it's too late, and I swear I didn't come here with the intention of - of crying all over you and making you feel bad for me. I just - I wanted you to know that I'm sorry, and I know that I fucked up real bad. I know - like I said, I know it's too little, too late, but I want you to know I'm working on - on being better."

Buck chews on the inside of his lip clearly for a second too long because Tommy gives a sharp little nod.

"That's all I wanted to say," he says, pushing back from the table and starting to stand. "I'll get out of your - "

"Sit your ass down," Buck says, a little rougher than he intended. Tommy does as he's told, blinking rapidly and Buck pushes away from the table, paces across the kitchen and back again.

"Evan…"

"Shut up. If you keep making decisions for me, I'm gonna - I'm gonna start throwing loaves at your head."

Tommy makes a noise that's half laugh, half sob, and Buck fights back the tiny grin that's tugging at his mouth.

"You - you really think you're this irredeemable asshole that doesn't deserve to be happy, don't you?"

Tommy shrugs, looks away. "If the shoe fits…"

Buck whirls around, yanks open the fridge, grabs the first loaf he sees. "This is coffee and walnut. It's dense. Last warning, jackass."

Tommy's laugh is more distinct this time. "Evan. Okay. Yes, I think that. But I'm - I'm working on not."

"Okay. Okay. So - so work on it." He puts the loaf down. "Work on it, and take me on a date."

Tommy looks like he's being rebooted without warning. "You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"I - "

"Tell me why I can't be serious."

"Because! Because I'm - I'm a mess. I hurt you. I left."

"You came back," Buck counters. "Even if it was only to apologize."

"You deserve better."

"I want you."

"I don't - I don't know when I'll be - better than I am."

"You're better today than the day you left. You're here."

"Evan…"

"Yes or no, Tommy. Take me on a date."

"I - "

"Yes or no."

"Yes. Please, yes."

Buck exhales for what feels like the first time in weeks. "Okay. Okay. That's a start."

He puts the loaf back in the fridge, takes Tommy's coffee away to reheat it, and the whole time he can feel Tommy's eyes on him, watching him like he's something precious.

[actual-changeling]

we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

[fidogo]

literally just John Price going to town with an equally desperate reader part 2 to this! Warnings: PWP, Age Gap, Light Spanking, Daddy Kink, Light dacyrphilia, mentions of voyeurism, overstimulation, use of good girl, sweetheart, and angel WC: 1.0k shoutout to @ohdrey89

"You liked that? Liked me calling you sweetheart in front of my men?"

You whine and nod, basking in his attention. His cock feels so good, spreading you open and filling you so nicely. His thrusts are deep and heavy, making your flesh jiggle.

"'Course you did. Cause you're good girl, ain't that right?" You nod again, arching your back for him.

"I'm a good girl, John," you slur, brain empty of everything except for John and his cock.

His hand cracks down on the soft flesh of your ass. You yelp, cunt clenching around him. He hushes you, fingers digging into the muscles he just spanked.

"Try again."

"I'm a good girl, Daddy," you say, throwing your hips back to try and speed up the pace. Your skin's hot, head cloudy, as you sink deeper into that fuzzy place.

"That's right," he mumbles, eyes glued to where he splits you. "So good for Daddy."

The wet sounds of your pussy getting pummeled fans the flames in your lower belly, and your eyes roll back. You're all screwed up inside, emotions churning wildly as your cunt flutters.

You like John so so much. He's proud of you. He'll take care of you, dote on you, keep you happy. Brief glimpses of a potential future flutter in and out of your mind, piercing through the cotton of your brain.

Sitting on the couch with John, your feet in his lap, eating breakfast together in his kitchen, just sitting near him, curled up with a book while he does paperwork.

You cum hard, writhing as tears sting your eyes. (You feel pathetic).

You’re whining Daddy pathetically as you cry. You feel a vague distant pulse of embarrassment somewhere in your mind. It's too vulnerable, it's too much. You don't know John that well. And yet...

He just coos at you, big hands squeezing your waist. He doesn't stop moving, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure.

And then he doesn't stop.

You weakly throw a hand behind you, trying to get him to slow down and give your poor pussy a moment of relief.

John chuckles, lacing your fingers together before pushing you down against his bed. He drapes himself across you, his warm, sweaty chest pressed flush against your back.

Large thighs bracket yours, keeping you in place as he pumps into you. John's breath tickles your ear, serenading you with soft grunts.

You pant into the pillow, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation. His cock hits a different spot like this, one that makes your cunt starts to flutter again.

"That's right, gonna take care of you." You cling to his voice, focusing on him to keep you afloat as you try not to get lost in the sensations.

"So good to me tonight, Sweetheart. Coming up to me like an absolute angel," John groans, hips moving faster. "Did you see how they looked at you?"

You’re crying again, and you let your tears absorb into his pillow (It smells like him).

You don't answer; John's not really looking for one.

"They thought you were such a sweet young thing. Too good for me." Humor colors his words, and he drops his head into the nook of your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your skin.

"Bet they'd get a kick out of knowing how you cream on my cock. Ain't that right?" This is mostly for his benefit now, but you can't deny the way your pussy clenches. He leaves a chaste kiss where his lips are touching.

"Yes, Daddy," you warble into the pillow, tears streaming down your face. You can practically feel his grin.

"Bet they'd love to watch, but you're mine, Sweetheart. All mine." You should probably remind him you're not exclusive or even an official couple. The thought drifts away as quickly as it enters your brain.

"All yours," you mumble instead. He kisses the shell of your ear softly and squeezes your hand, making you shiver and groan.

John's free hand gently slides to your mouth, his index and middle finger pressing against the seem of your lips. Ever the good girl, you lift your head slightly and open for him.

His fingers stroke your mouth gently, exploring, and you gush around his cock.

He barks out a laugh before thrusting his fingers more aggressively. You gag a little, heartbeat racing as John fucks you at both ends.

So so so good to you, you think blindly, letting yourself slip back into a haze.

John's thrusts get sloppy (You want him to cum so bad, want the evidence that you please him the same way he pleases you). His hips start to grind into you, and he cums with a large groan, fingers flexing inside your mouth.

You thrash against him, trapped, and you bite down on his hand as he grinds inside you. It feels so good when he does that, stirring up your insides, hitting somewhere that makes your toes curl.

You're stuck against the mattress, caged by his thick body, and forced to cum again as you cry. He whispers sweet meaningless words to you, soothing your poor nerves as he slows to a halt and gently pulls his fingers from your mouth.

Your head falls into his pillow, too exhausted to hold it up. John's efficient about cleaning you up and taking care of you. He's communicative and gentle as he puts you back together.

He's always been like that after the few times you slept together (it makes you feel something warm and surprisingly tender in your chest).

Your brain slowly returns to your body, and you nuzzle into John's chest. It's your first time in his home. Your first time spending the night in his bed. The realization that you want to sleep like this every night washes over you gently.

But everything's so intense with him. All or nothing. And yet you want to be with him so bad. If he asks, you'll say yes, you reason.

You happily drift off with that compromise, silently praying the same thing you do after each of your previous trysts with John: that this won't be the last.

[riki-dazed]

Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 1

3:00 AM -- Finding Hope · part 2 · fluff · wc: 792

"I'm so tired," You sigh, watching Riki search for another song on the computer that he's currently sat in front of.

The both of you had spent the last couple of hours together in his personal studio, turning the tight space into a full blown karaoke room. All that you hoped for tonight was that no one would come knocking at the door, considering that Riki already had to sneak you into the company building.

Your body falls backwards against your sofa, yes, your sofa. The tiny, barely-seats-two one that Riki had cramped into the corner of his studio, just so you'd have somewhere to sit, or sleep on, when you'd visit him. You loved that about your best friend the most, his overly thoughtful and sweet nature. To Riki, your comfort and happiness has always been at the top of his priorities list.

Your gaze stays on Riki as you watch him scroll through one of his spotify playlists, your head resting on your arms in which are slumped over an armrest. Eliciting a hum of approval, he finally decides on a song after a few moments. The slow, soft melody that engulfs the space causes your eyes to flutter closed. It was a familiar sound, one of your favorites. You hear your best friend humming along to the tune, the sound of his soft tone further pushing you into a sleepy trace. It's about time the both of you finally took a second to calm down, to breathe.

Baby, it's three AM, had you on my mind...

"Here," A deep voice cuts you out of your trance, you blink your eyes open, "Lean on me, it's comfier,"

You glance over your shoulder towards the direction where the voice was coming from, suddenly finding Riki's body sat beside yours on the little sofa. You give him a small smile as you pick yourself up and off the uncomfortable armrest, you nuzzle yourself into his side. His body's warm, the fabric of his hoodie soft against the skin on your face.

He smells good, too.

"We should probably go home soon," You murmur against him, your eyes closing shut yet again. Who knows what the time must be, though, you're too comfortable and cozy to even care about it at the moment.

"Later," The boy beside you replies, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand snakes its way around to the side of your waist. He pulls you into him.

You nestle closer into Riki, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, and the comfort of his presence. Every other irrelevant thought within your mind fades away as you focus on the soft music playing through the speakers. The feeling of contentment envelops the both of you.

Cause baby, if I find a way, I'm sure of it, this love won't stray...

"..just give me a chance to say I love you, and I need you, now are you here to stay," Riki sings along quietly, his deep voice is as soft and as smooth as a cloud.

Despite the late hour, you have nowhere else that you would rather be than right here.

Wanting you more and more, I can't help but think of what we could be...

Without a single thought behind your actions, the lyrics suddenly cause you to lift your head off him. As you meet Riki's gaze, you find yourself getting lost within his sharp eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within your own chest. Neither of you exchange a single word, yet a silent understanding engulfs the space between the both of your bodies, a mutual recognition of something unspoken, yet deeply felt. You feel the weight of the lyrics echoe within your mind, and stomach, in the form of a hundred butterflies.

As you continue to scan your best friend's face, you see a vulnerability in his expression. It's as if he's laying bare his soul before you, offering you a glimpse into his unspoken feelings.

"This feels dangerously intimate," You murmur out of the blue, the sudden seriousness had caused you to almost start feeling awkward. You and Riki were barely ever a serious pair when together, you needed to lighten the mood somehow..

Riki can't help but shake his head over your sudden remark, he lets a chuckle escape his lips. You smile at his heartwarming reaction, yet you can't shake the feeling that had just engulfed you moments prior.

You can't help but realize that perhaps the both of you had been dancing around the edges of something more profound than mere friendship.

"Best friends can kiss, right?"

Your eyes grow wide as Riki catches you completely off guard with his sudden question, your smile drops off your face.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault. 

“Get out!” he yells. 

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap. 

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter. 

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps. 

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear. 

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours. 

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.” 

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value. 

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.  

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end. 

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you. 

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare. 

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister? 

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone. 

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun. 

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother. 

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses. 

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps. 

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting. 

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist. 

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches. 

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough. 

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours. 

“You're not hurt?” he asks. 

“I'm fine,” you promise him. 

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours. 

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames. 

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing. 

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours. 

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.” 

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach. 

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

[waywardxrhea]

butterfly effect - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

part two of Casual

Spencer and Reader's first meeting is revealed along with how both are feeling in the aftermath of the restaurant debacle in part one.

word count: ~6.4k

content: 18+ minors DNI! language, angst! fluff (oh the fluff in this one is sickly sweet - i told y'all i don't like unhappy endings)! smut (i simply could not help myself because i've had this one line stuck in my head for weeks and it just so happened to transition very well in this piece i'm not sorry): oral [male receiving], unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms mentioned.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

now playing: butterfly effect by Sophie Holohan also a hint of vulnerable by Leanna Firestone <3

Then…

You watched as drops of condensation raced down the side of your iced coffee cup, lost in your own thoughts as you ignored the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk to your left. It was a sunny morning on your day off and you were at your favorite local coffee shop, trying to ignore your work responsibilities for as long as possible. You were doodling in the rustic looking parchment journal you had found at a thrift store when you went shopping with Celeste and Maddie yesterday, and you had become enthralled with butterflies once more. 

You had a hyperfixation on the beautiful creatures when you were younger and in some circles were ashamed to admit how much you knew about them. They were just so fascinating and beautiful, how could you not adore them? You knew that this cafe’s outdoor seating area was teeming with them during April due to their migratory pattern as well as all of the plant life they had blooming within all of the scattered pots seated throughout the patio, so it was the perfect time for catching glimpses of the creatures you had lost touch with for many years. 

A beautiful one with black and white coloring and long trailing wings fluttered by and you quickly snatched your cup and journal up as you went to follow the beautiful creature. If your memory served you right it was a Zebra Swallowtail, one you hadn’t seen since your childhood, and you were determined to capture its beauty in your new journal. 

Your journey following the butterfly was short-lived though, when as you quickly exited the patio’s gate you ran smack into someone! You felt your condensation coated cup leave your grip as it was crushed between your body and the stranger’s and your eyes went wide as the drink spilled down their front, completely soaking through the button up they were wearing. And to add insult to injury, the manilla folder that had been in their hands was now absorbing the liquid on the ground. 

With your now empty hand flying to cover your mouth, you began profusely apologizing, saying, “Oh my gosh I am so, so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! You see, I saw this really pretty butterfly that I wanted to sketch and I didn’t want it to get away but now it has and I completely ruined your shirt and your file and you were probably on your way to work and now you’re going to be late because of me and smell like coffee the rest of the day and oh my gosh I am so sorry I am mortified right now!” By the end of your rambled on apology you had covered your face with your journal, afraid to look up at the person you had run into, especially after such a rambling and childish apology…

What surprised you was the person letting out a soft laugh in response to your rambling before telling you, “If you were going after something in the name of science I can’t exactly fault you for running into me. I likely would have done the same.” 

“You- What…?” you asked, risking a peek over the top of your journal, only to see the smiling face of a boyishly handsome man around your age with cropped and almost curly hair that fell slightly over his eyes. He was gorgeous. His melodic laugh rang out once more and it prompted you to lower the journal to your side fully, risking a glance at the damage your drink did. 

You cringed as you looked at his once pristine and pressed shirt, but your anxious thoughts were interrupted by him telling you, “You were going after a butterfly that you wanted to make an observation of in its habitat. As a man of science I can’t fault you for doing so.” He bent over to pick up his now thoroughly soaked file and offered a small smile as he came back up and added, “I’m Spencer by the way. I don’t exactly follow the science of lepidopterology, but it’s a fascinating subject. Do you study them for a living?”

You offered your name in turn before saying, “Oh, uh, no I- It’s just a sort of hyperfixation I’ve had on and off since I was a kid,” You felt an intense blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks after the admission crossed your lips and you wished that the earth would open up beneath you and save you from yourself. Instead of just keeping your mouth shut though, you rambled on, “And now it’s probably ruined your day and routine and again I am so sorry! Were you heading in? I could buy your drink! It’s the least I can do after ruining…everything.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, I’m getting drinks for more than just me,” Spencer replied as he began opening his satchel bag and pulling out a sweater vest which he put on and covered the coffee stain on his front. “See, good as new. I have a change of clothes at the office anyway. Don’t worry about the shirt.” He waved the folder to get the droplets of coffee off and added, “And don’t worry about the file either. I have it memorized. Eidetic memory. Comes in handy for times like this.”

“Right…” you said, making a mental note to look up what that meant rather than assuming. You nodded awkwardly before gesturing toward the door and heading that way, telling him, “Well I’m gonna head back inside to get a drink to replace the one I dropped. We can at least discuss how I could repay you while we wait?”

“If you insist,” Spencer said before following your lead into the small shop, the little bell above the door ringing out to alert the workers that someone had entered. 

As you waited in line, you cleared your throat and asked awkwardly, “So, uh…what do you do for work?”

“I work for the FBI at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We basically use what’s called profiling to determine why people do what they do, specifically in the realm of killing people,” he told you as if it was a regular old nine to five and not what sounded like the most interesting job in the world. 

“I- Wow! That sounds so cool!” you stuttered out awkwardly. You mentally kicked yourself at the stupid reply, but before you could rectify the situation it was Spencer’s turn to order. You breathed a sigh of relief at the out and began scouring your brain for ways you could repay Spencer for the mishap outside. 

Once you ordered your replacement drink, you cleared your throat and shyly asked Spencer, “How about as an apology I take you to dinner? You choose where. I just feel really, really bad about spilling my drink on you…”

Spencer was silent for a beat before telling you, “I would like that. Thank you.” So before you two parted ways, Spencer wrote his number in your journal beside another butterfly you had been sketching and you sent him off with a warm smile while what felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies flew around in the pit of your stomach. 

Your dinner with Spencer got delayed when the BAU was requested to work a case in Oregon, but you were fine with that as it gave you more time to grapple with the fact that, no, this wasn’t a date. This was simply a business transaction because you had ruined the man’s clothes and case file. 

When Spencer returned after closing the case, you were finally ready to face the gorgeous man in what you hoped would be a platonic business-like way. That was until you saw his face again and heard his what turned out to be contagious laugh. He told you all kinds of fun facts about butterflies he had learned in preparation to have something to talk with you about and you practically had heart eyes as you listened to him ramble on and on about stuff even you didn’t know about the beautiful creatures. 

The spark you thought was there turned out to be mutual and by the end of the night, Spencer was back to your apartment and between your legs, sending you into the most blissful state you had been in in years. As you learned during your dinner, Spencer had a vast understanding of the human body and mind and it turned out that those skills translated to the bedroom as well. Needless to say, he had completely exhausted you and you fell asleep in his arms under your duvet, your legs entangled as you clung onto him like a koala. 

Waking up the morning after your dinner, Spencer began to come to his senses as he smelled bacon and pancakes being cooked and coffee lingering in the air of your apartment. At first he relaxed into the plush memory foam once more before he sat up with a start. What was he doing? He knew from current and former BAU members’ experiences, relationships while working for the unit were hard. The hours were odd and long, the mental toll of cases could be heavy at best and all consuming at most, and statistically the odds of someone in a relationship with an FBI agent - specifically a member of the BAU - becoming a target of a pissed off unsub was high. What if an unsub took you as a hostage in order to get to him? What if an unsub killed you as some cruel form of punishment for going after them? That wasn’t something he was willing to shoulder onto you, he thought as a shudder shook his whole body. 

But there was no way he wanted to let you go from his life altogether, so when he emerged into the combined dining and kitchen area to see you cooking in just a t-shirt and underwear, Spencer cleared his throat and greeted you with a good morning before asking tentatively, “Hey uh… I was just thinking… With my job with the BAU being what it is, could we…would you mind if we kept this casual? I had an amazing time with you at dinner and in…other places, but it’s historically difficult for an FBI agent to maintain a proper relationship and give their partner the attention they deserve while also giving cases the attention they need. Would…would that be something you would be okay with?” 

Spencer studied your body language as you concentrated on flipping the pancakes in front of you, doing so effortlessly as you nonchalantly replied, “If that’s what is easiest then yeah. I had a really good time last night too.” Relief flooded Spencer’s body at your response and he relaxed into the dining chair a bit more before standing up to pour himself some coffee and prepare it how he liked, content with the new arrangement he found himself in with the gorgeous and thoughtful woman in front of him. 

So that’s how it went on for the following months. Between Spencer’s cases and your shifts at work, the two of you managed to see each other more and more. Sometimes the evenings started at restaurants and some were initiated at either of your apartments when you were feeling particularly needy. 

Even though at first you were truly content with keeping things with Spencer casual, as time went on, you had started to develop feelings for the man. Feelings that sex alone couldn’t tame and that’s when you realized what you knew all along. That those butterflies you felt in your stomach during your first encounter were never a good sign. 

Now…

A knock on your apartment door broke you from your trance of zoning out whatever was playing on Netflix at the moment and you looked up at the clock hanging on the wall to realize it was nearly three o’clock. You had spent most of your day off zoned out in front of the TV lost in your own thoughts when you were supposed to go to lunch with Celeste hours ago. Looking at your phone you noticed all the missed calls and texts and rubbed your tired eyes as you groaned in frustration. 

The knock sounded once again before you heard Celeste’s voice calling out, “Are you in there? Do I need to call the cops for a welfare check?”

You attempted to smooth down your pjs before opening the door and telling her quietly, “No, I’m here. I’m sorry I flaked on lunch I didn’t mean to I just-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Celeste was wrapping you in a hug to end all hugs and asking softly, “What’s wrong?”

This simple question was always your downfall because the second that it was asked the floodgates opened and you began sobbing into Celeste’s shoulder. All of the tears you had denied yourself over the last week and a half finally began to freefall as you clung to your friend like she was a buoy out at sea and she was the only thing keeping you afloat. 

Celeste managed to maneuver the two of you back into the apartment and closed the door as you began rambling through your tight and broken voice, “At the restaurant…when we celebrated Adri…Spencer was there. We…we had sex in the bathroom but then he just finished and left me hanging. No explanation. Then I overheard his coworker call me Spencer’s love toy. He…he didn’t shut down the comment. I just thought I meant more to him than that… So I panicked and left. Almost had a panic attack outside when he came to talk with me. I thought he was going to comfort me but then he just reminded me, ‘no attachments.’” This whole spiel took you the greater part of five minutes to get out between sobs and trying to catch your breath, but Celeste being patient as always gave you her attention the whole time. You took a final deep breath before finishing with, “I really, really like him Celeste… I was a fool to think I meant more to him.”

Celeste thought on your words for the few moments it took to lead you toward the couch. She sat down and brought your head to rest on her thigh, gently detangling your hair with her fingers as she said, “I’m sorry that he made you feel that way. And I’m sorry we didn’t notice something was wrong before now. We’re your friends, we should be there for you through stuff like this.”

“It’s nothing you did,” you quickly told her. “Work kept me occupied this week so I tried to just ignore everything but then today I guess it all caught up to me…” Celeste nodded and you relaxed as she continued to mess with your hair. 

Her silence was broken when she finally said, “Not to play Devil’s advocate, because what he did was not okay, but have you thought about why he came out to check on you when you left?”

This question caused you to furrow your eyebrows together and think about it. Why did he come outside? None of the other BAU members were leaving. It was just him… You cleared your throat and admitted, “I uh… I didn’t think about that.” There was a beat of silence before you told her, “I haven’t told you guys much about his job besides that he works for the FBI, but he’s what they call a profiler. He can tell a lot about a person just by reading their body language. Maybe…”

When you trailed off, leaving your sentence unfinished, Celeste offered, “Maybe he knew you were upset from your body language so he came to comfort you?”

You thought about it for a second before telling her, “I mean maybe, but that wouldn’t explain-” Your sentence died in your throat as another knock sounded through the apartment. “Did you text Maddie or Adri?” you asked Celeste. 

“No,” Celeste replied as you began pulling yourself into a sitting position. “I’ll see who it is.”

As she did you started to realize how dehydrated you were, so you slowly made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As you stood, a dizzying feeling filled your head and darkness lined your peripheral vision, but you tried to ignore it as you made your way to the fridge. You vaguely heard the exchange happening at your door, but your attention was caught when Celeste called your name to get your attention. Looking up from your glass and Brita, you saw Spencer in your doorway with a bouquet of flowers and your heart gave an irregular stutter in your chest. “He says he wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” Celeste asked and you could hear the protective nature in her voice that Spencer was no doubt picking up on too. 

“Y-yeah,” you replied, nodding in case she couldn’t hear you across the room. 

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked, eyeing Spencer’s tall form almost suspiciously as she did. 

“I think I’ll be okay,” you told her, offering her a small smile. “Thank you for coming to check on me. I’ll make lunch up to you next weekend.” Celeste nodded hesitantly before grabbing her purse off of the floor where she had dropped it and began making her way out. You were sure she would stay idled in the parking lot of the complex until you texted her that everything was okay, so you made a mental note to do so after this was over. Whatever this was. 

Taking a deep breath, you offered a quiet, “Hi,” to Spencer as he approached your dining area with the rather large bouquet in hand. That couldn’t have been cheap. 

“Hey,” he said, almost as quietly as you did. He cleared his throat and said, “I…I wanted to apologize for what happened last time we saw each other.” 

Nodding, you quickly wiped a stray tear away as you told him, “I was really hurt, Spencer.”

“I know that now. So that’s why I brought you these,” he reiterated as he offered the flowers out to you. “In flower language the white roses symbolize my remorse for what happened, my seeking of forgiveness, and my hope for a new beginning between the two of us. The pink hyacinths represent new love and fresh starts. The white hyacinths represent my wish for healing between us. And the pink tulips represent my asking for forgiveness and the sincerity behind my words.” You tentatively accepted the flowers and took a moment to breathe in their natural fragrance with closed eyes as Spencer rambled on, “Did you know that floriography has been practiced for thousands of years and was even used in theatrical works, most notably Shakespeare? A lot of people take for granted what the flowers they’re giving mean, but the meaning behind each one can offer you a great deal of insight into the mind of the giver.”

You tried to hide the small smile teasing your lips in response to Spencer’s ramblings which you always found endearing by searching your cabinets for a vase to put them in. With your back turned toward him, you cleared your throat and quietly told him, “Thank you. They’re beautiful. I just…” you pulled out a vase and let out a heavy sigh as you brought it to the sink to rinse out and fill with fresh water. “Fucking me in the restroom and just leaving before I got off without an explanation hurt. Hearing what Derek said, calling me your ‘love toy’ and you agreeing to it really hurt. I… I know you said no attachments, but… I’ve spent so much time with you and got to know you and I realized that I can’t do this whole casual thing anymore…” By the time you finished your statement, you had opened the flower food and put it into the water and hugged your arms to your body as you tried to make yourself smaller amidst the palpable tension in the room. 

“I could tell by your body language as you left the restaurant that something was wrong but I didn’t know what but I followed you out regardless because I knew something was wrong and wanted to try and fix it…” Spencer admitted. So Celeste was right about that… You didn’t have time to think about that though as Spencer continued, telling you, “I really messed up by leaving you in there after what I did, and it took me a while to realize what I did wrong because… Gosh now I really sound like an ass saying it out loud.” He scratched the back of his neck as he said, “I had calculated the longest average time an adult male takes in the restroom and was limiting myself to that time limit as we…did what we did in there. I knew that most of the team had seen you pass by and so I didn’t want them to think we were having sex in a restroom of all places. Not that I am ashamed to be with you at all, with you I’ve had the best few months of my life I think, but there are some aspects of my life I would like to keep private from them.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, unable to help the huff of a laugh that escaped your lips at the admission. What a truly Spencer reason to leave you hot and bothered. The bit about ‘the best few months of his life’ made your heart soar once again as you finally looked up to make eye contact with him. 

A smile broke out onto his lips when his eyes met yours and he slowly approached you as he rambled on, saying, “And about the whole response to what Derek said. I panicked. He’s usually the one who has all the girls and is some sort of expert love maker or something, and I’m way less experienced than that. So when he brought it up I didn’t know how to respond so I guess I just blurted out what would make me look cool to him. Which I realized was a mistake far too long after, when the team sort of had to give me a reality check…”

Just the next morning after the restaurant incident left Spencer reeling, trying to make sense of what happened between the two of you, the BAU was called out on a case. After the first two days on the case, JJ approached Spencer as they were packing up for the day and asked, “Spence, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-” he tried to say but couldn’t finish as Emily too approached him while putting her hand up and shaking her head. 

“You’ve been moody. You don’t get moody for no reason,” she argued. 

“I’m not moody,” Spencer defended himself. 

“Yes you are, you’ve been off since that night at the Italian place. What happened?” JJ asked. By then more of the team had started to gather around and he noticed that even some of the locals had poked their heads up from their work to listen to what was now looking like an intervention. 

Spencer sighed and threw his hands up exasperatedly as he said, “Fine! You wanna know why I’ve been in a bad mood? It’s because she told me to go to Hell and since then I just…I haven’t been able to concentrate. She’s on my mind all the time and I’ve just been trying to figure out what I did wrong so I can fix it!”

“Oh so it’s a lovers spa-” Derek started to say.

“Don’t you go making more comments,” Spencer snapped, which made Derek freeze, the smile melting off of his mouth. “Your ‘love toy’ comment is one of the things that set her off. I know that for sure.”

“Okay so we know that. What else happened?” JJ asked as she took a seat in a chair nearby, seemingly fully concentrated on the conversation now. 

“I, uh…” Spencer faltered, feeling awkward about being open about his sex life in front of so many people seeing as how Hotch and Rossi had wandered into the space too. He felt heat creeping up into his cheeks as he blurted out, “We had sex in the bathroom and I had calculated how long I had before you guys got suspicious about what was happening so by the time that limit rolled around I had finished but didn’t have time to get her there but I still left because I didn’t want any of you to know what was going on.”

The response reminded him of the time they all found out you existed in the first place and he struggled to hear all of the comments. “Spencer Reid, you did what?!” came from Penelope. Emily groaned in frustration as she said, “We already all knew what was happening in that restroom!” One of the locals chimed in with, “Oh come on man, you can’t just leave her hanging like that!” “Yeah, you messed up big time,” was JJ’s snide remark as she leaned her head back and rolled her eyes. 

The chaotic chorus was interrupted by David clearing his throat to get the room’s attention. When the focus was on him, he wisely pointed out, “I think we can all agree that seeking forgiveness is what you need to do here. Do it right when we get back from the case.” The older man patted Spencer on the shoulder before continuing with, “Life isn’t going to slow down or wait for an ideal opportunity to make things right. If you really want things with this girl to work out, then you’re going to have to accept that there may be obstacles in the way and hurdles you both need to jump over. You have a village behind you, kid. A village that is willing to go to bat to protect both you and those you love. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. The unknown shouldn’t be the reason you hold yourself back from what you really want. So go after her.”

Spencer’s large hands gently took yours into his and when you didn’t deny the touch, he squeezed them and told you, “You aren’t just an object or ‘love toy’ to me. I promise you that.” He took a shaking breath and you looked up to see tears rimming his eyes as he said, “I was just so scared of something happening to you because of my job that I denied my feelings for you. I have been targeted and taken by unsubs before, Hotch’s ex wife who was in witsec was tracked and killed, JJ’s family was targeted just a few weeks after we met… I didn’t want any of those things to happen to you. But I also didn’t want to lose you from my life so I made a deal with myself that we would keep things casual, but I never followed up after that first morning if that was okay with you…”

Tears began welling up in your eyes in response to his words. You knew that he said the job was tough on relationships, but you never thought too into what he was protecting you from… It showed that he truly cared in your eyes. That he had thought this through. 

You were too stunned to speak and the dizzy feeling returned in response to all of the new information. Seeming to notice this, he guided you to the couch in your sitting area and asked, “I trust you know what the butterfly effect is?”

“I do,” you confirmed, curious as to where this was going. 

“Well sometimes I get to thinking and I wonder what the probability of us meeting would have been if that butterfly hadn’t made you spill your drink on me. Think of it as an actualization of the theory. I calculated that the odds would have been slim to none considering how far off our lines of work are from each other and it makes me sad to think that in virtually every other reality we never met. Because you’ve changed my life. And yes, the sex is great, but so is the conversation! You are always so genuinely interested in what I have to say and it’s so refreshing because a lot of the people I’m close to have gotten tired of my ramblings over the years. I didn’t realize until I didn’t have you in my life anymore that I wanted to come home early from cases to be with you, and not just intimately. I wanted to come home to you in my apartment - what would be our apartment. To bring you flowers and your favorite chocolates. To cook dinner with you and watch your favorite movies. To show you my favorite books and read yours in return! I’m usually one to look at the statistics and facts of it all, but just this once I would like to believe that the butterfly effect is real and that it brought us together.”

“Spencer, I-” you started, but stopped as a quiet sob left your mouth and you covered it with your hand. When you regained your composure, you nodded and told him, “I want that too. So much. I want to come home to you reading impossibly fast through my entire book collection. I want to take trips to bookstores together. I want to make your favorite meal when you get home from a case no matter what time of day it is. I want to properly meet your teammates from the BAU. I want it all. Because I-” you stopped your rambling once more before too much came out. 

You didn’t have to worry about it though, because Spencer took the words right out of your mouth as he said, “I love you.”

You felt weightless in response to his confession and you felt the biggest smile break out onto your face before you whispered back, “I love you too.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked as he leaned his forehead on yours. 

“Always,” you replied, the smile on your lips evident in your voice. 

The kiss was the most gentle one Spencer had ever given you and you felt your heart soar and a kaleidoscope of butterflies explode in your stomach once more, reminding you of the day you met. And this time you were sure that Spencer wouldn’t let your soaring heart fall. 

After a few moments though, gone was the gentle kiss that brought you two back together. Soon the kiss was filled with need and desire as you finally noticed the reaction that your body had been having to the man who was now under your hips as you straddled him. Desire once more guided your actions as you moved your hips on Spencer’s, feeling his arousal starting to grow as you lapped into each others’ mouth. 

A low and muffled groan left Spencer’s mouth as he moved his hands to rest on your ass and began massaging in time with the sway of your hips. At the same time as you began to ask, “Can I-?” Spencer was whispering, “I need-” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth before you began moving off of him and down onto the floor between his spread legs, saying, “I take it we’re on the same page then?”

“Yes,” was his instant response as his lust filled eyes looked down at you on your knees between his legs, your hands gliding up his thighs and to his belt buckle. After getting the belt undone you of course took a moment to tease his stiff member, earning a small buck of his hips and a beg of, “Please,” almost whimpered from his lips. 

“How can I no to that?” you asked with a small smile on your lips as you began to unbutton and unzip Spencer’s slacks. When you pulled his slacks and underwear down in one fell swoop, you smiled up at Spencer as you asked, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“A-a few times. Shit-” he moaned out as you began teasing his head with your tongue, focusing on the spot on the underside just below the head that you knew drove him crazy. When you took him into your mouth fully, one of Spencer’s hands flew right into your hair, lightly tugging as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could. 

You bobbed up and down a few times before hollowing out your cheeks around him and as you did, the grip he had on your hair tightened and you let out a low moan in the back of your throat at the feeling. Spencer’s response was instant, letting out a loud moan into the otherwise quiet room that sounded somewhat like your name. Within seconds though, he was tapping at your temple and whispering, “W-wait. Stop.”

You instantly stopped what you were doing, feeling your heart clench at the words. Wiping the excess spit from your chin, you said quietly, “I-I’m sorry did I do something-?”

“No, no, no you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…” Spencer said as his chest heaved. “I want to do this the right way. I want to make love to you.” 

Your mouth opened slightly in response to the words as you sat back on the floor, shocked at the implication. Before you could come up with a response, Spencer was pulling you up from the floor and coaxing your oversized t-shirt off, revealing that you had not been wearing a bra this whole time which made him groan as he began toying with your now fully exposed breast. He began kissing you once more and a whimper escaped your mouth as he began toying with your hard nipple and you began pushing at his vest and button up, silently telling him to get rid of them. 

During all of this, the two of you began fumbling toward your bedroom, dropping clothes as you went and leaving a trail from the couch to your bed. When the backs of your knees met the edge of the bed, Spencer collapsed on top of you which ended up with you in a fit of giggles as he rolled both you and himself over to be in the bed properly. When you were comfortably on the pillow, you teasingly asked, “So what does love making entail, Doctor?”

“Something more gentle than I usually give you,” he replied as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Something more meaningful,” he added as he pushed in slowly. 

The stretch around Spencer was something you needed a moment to adjust to and he gave you time to do so as he buried his face into your neck and let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. This was already a change of pace. Usually the two of you were so needy, he never gave you time to adjust to his size and you always took the sting in stride with the pounding he usually gave you, but this…this was different. It felt new. It was gentle. 

Wrapping your legs around Spencer’s waist, you sighed contentedly before whispering, “You can move.”

And so he did, starting off with small thrusts that you were sure he was doing so he didn’t lose it right then and there after the oral you had just given him before you started. But then they transitioned into long and languid strokes, almost completely pulling out from you before slowly pushing back in. At one point Spencer grabbed a small throw pillow you had on the bed and lifted your hips to place it under them and from that moment you knew you were a goner. The angle made it easier for him to hit that spongy spot within your walls and you let out an almost pornographic moan when he did. Over and over again. 

“You sound so beautiful,” Spencer grunted out which made you open your eyes to look up at him. You were met with his smile as he reiterated, “You are so beautiful.”

The compliment had your body reeling and you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening as he continued to brush over that spot within you. “Spencer, I-” your words were cut off by a moan when he brought the hand now not supporting his body weight to your clit and began rubbing gentle circles on it. Your breathing began to become labored as the pleasure continued to mount until it was almost too much. “I’m close,” you told him, feeling your core starting to twitch around him as he filled you up so well. 

“Me too, sweet girl,” Spencer panted out, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. 

As cheesy as it is to say, the tender moment was what broke you. A litany of pleasure filled sounds escaped your mouth that were swallowed by Spencer’s as he picked up his pace just the slightest bit as you began contracting around him, your orgasm ripping through your body in the most intense way possible. Spencer followed behind you quickly, burying his head into your neck once more as he moaned out his pleasure between sloppy kisses placed on your throat. 

Spencer collapsed slightly on top of you, slightly to the side as he slipped out of you, some of his release following suit as you both breathed heavily in the aftermath of what you would deem the most pleasurable sex you had ever had. With hands wandering in mindless shapes over your body, Spencer mumbled into your skin, “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“I love you too,” you told him with a smile on your lips. You never wanted to let go of this feeling. 

A few minutes passed of just basking in each other’s warm embrace before Spencer raised his head and kissed your lips, telling you, “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m thinking that after we shower I can take you to dinner? On a proper date?” 

“I would love that,” you replied as he helped you off the bed and into the shower. 

That night after dinner Spencer outdid himself with the love making, somehow managing to drag three more orgasms out of you, each more intense than the last. As you laid there in bed that night with Spencer’s arm draped over you, you silently thanked the world for sending that butterfly into your path that fateful morning.

a/n: thank you all so much for the outpouring of love on Casual! i really hope this lived up to expectations that may have been built after the first part! Derek still hasn't been redeemed and Reader still hasn't properly met the BAU team (especially Rossi who was honestly the MVP here), so i'm thinking we'll see each other again in a potential part three? ;)

part three: Right Person, Right Time

taglist: @spicyspirit @misserabella @lillianacristina @lullvu

those who didn't ask to be tagged but y'all were so kind in the comments so i will anyways to make sure you see this post <3 (apologizes if i am overstepping by tagging)

@lilrios-world @theylovemelody @lea24sposts @espressoparis @crazy4books1 @i-live-in-spite @mega-kittyglitter-1 @rumplereids

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 20

THIS IS PART OF THE FRIENDS (WITH BENEFITS) DON'T SERIES! T

PROMPT: “I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

KINK: Morning Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V. Lots of kissing and touching.)

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

TAG LIST: See Comments

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to be honest I was really struggling with my original idea for Kinktober Day 20. It was a different Kink with a different character but it wasn't coming together like I wanted. I had started and scrapped it five or six times. But I also had this that I wrote a few weeks ago. I wasn't going to post it because I didn't think it fit with the story I originally was writing it for (a Jake series that I've since abandoned cause I wasn't loving how it was coming together) but I feel like it could fit the Kinktober theme so here it is! Hope you like it! xx

The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. You slowly stir awake, feeling the warmth of Jake’s body pressed against yours, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his deep, even breaths, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into him, enjoying the unexpected comfort of waking up in his arms. This isn’t how things usually go.

Your relationship with Jake has been easy, with no strings attached. At least, it was supposed to be. But now, with the way he’s holding you so protectively, it feels different. You remember last night—how you’d planned for another casual hook-up, but instead, after, you’d ended up tangled together under the covers, watching a romcom of all things. And then, instead of leaving like he always does, Jake stayed.

Your heart pounds softly in your chest, the weight of the situation settling in. Is this still just a fling? Or is something else happening between you two? The lines are starting to blur.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him just yet, and glance over your shoulder. His usually cocky, confident expression is softened in sleep, his features relaxed, and suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

You know you should probably move, maybe get up, but something about this moment feels too good to let go. You bite your lip, torn between the easygoing fun of what you had before and the undeniable change that seems to be happening.

Just as you're lost in thought, Jake stirs, his arm tightening slightly around your waist before his voice rumbles low in your ear. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

His voice, deep and gravelly from sleep, sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to smile. You manage to reply softly, “Morning.”

Jake shifts behind you, pulling you closer for a second before he stretches and rolls onto his back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moves. The bed feels colder without him wrapped around you, and you can't help but miss the warmth. He runs a hand through his messy hair and glances over at you, his usual cocky grin making an appearance. “Sleep well?”

You nod, still feeling a bit off-balance by the situation, and try to keep things casual. “Yeah, I did…you?”

“Better than usual,” he says, surprising you with the sincerity in his tone.

You sit up slowly, pulling the covers around you, suddenly feeling a bit exposed—not physically, but emotionally. This isn’t what you signed up for. Friends with benefits doesn’t include waking up in each other’s arms, watching movies together, and it certainly doesn’t include the softness in Jake’s eyes when he looks at you right now.

You’re about to say something, maybe ask him about breakfast or make some quip to lighten the mood, but before you can get the words out, you feel Jake’s lips press against your bare shoulder. It’s not just a kiss—it’s gentle, lingering, almost like he’s savoring the moment. And it catches you completely off guard. Jake’s mouth has been everywhere on you before, but this? This feels different. It’s tender. Intimate. Too intimate.

Your breath hitches slightly as you glance back at him, and you’re met with a gaze that’s softer than his usual playful smirk. His green eyes seem to be studying you, watching your reaction carefully. For a second, your heart pounds a little harder, and all you can think is what are we doing?

“Jake…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what you want to say. You feel like you should address this shift, but before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s already leaning in again, his lips brushing against your collarbone this time, trailing upward to your neck.

The air between you thickens, and any words you might’ve had dissolve in the heat of the moment. Jake’s hand slides along your waist, pulling you back down onto the bed, your body instinctively responding to him. You should stop and talk about this, about what this all means, but when he moves closer, you can’t seem to find it in you to pull away.

Jake’s lips linger for a moment, his breath brushing against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, not from cold, but from something much deeper. Something you hadn’t expected to feel this morning, or maybe ever in this situation. Sure, Jake has touched you plenty of times before, in ways that have sent your pulse racing and your skin burning. But this—this feels different.

Your heart begins to beat faster as his hand, which had been resting on your waist, tightens ever so slightly, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles flex just beneath the surface as he shifts beside you. He presses another kiss, this time closer to the nape of your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the contact. It sends your thoughts into a spiral, the question lingering in your mind—What is happening?

Before you can fully process it, Jake’s hand begins to move, sliding from your waist up along your ribs, his touch light and teasing. His fingers graze the band of your bra, tracing the edge in a way that makes your breath hitch. You shift slightly under the covers, your body responding to him even as your mind races to catch up. Every touch feels deliberate like he’s taking his time, savoring every second. It’s not the hurried, frenzied touches you’re used to—it’s slow, almost reverent, and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

His hand moves back down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and in one smooth motion, he pulls it up over your head, tossing it aside. You don’t even think to stop him—you don’t want to. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Jake’s hands as he cups your sides, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your bra. His lips find your neck again, this time pressing a series of kisses, each one sending sparks through your body.

You open your mouth to say something—to ask him what this is, what it means—but before you can, his hand slides around your back, expertly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He pulls it off, tossing it somewhere in the room, and you suddenly feel exposed in a way that’s both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Jake doesn’t give you time to think about it. His hands are on you again, skimming over your bare skin as his mouth moves lower, pressing a kiss just below your collarbone. His touch is slow and patient as if he’s in no rush to get anywhere, and it drives you wild. You can’t help the way your back arches slightly, your body reacting to him before your mind can catch up.

As his lips trail down your chest, you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down with the same deliberate slowness. The way he’s taking his time—like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a flush of warmth through your body.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to you. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and consuming, filled with a hunger that makes your head spin. There’s an urgency now, but it’s not the same frantic rush as before. It’s something deeper—something that makes your heart race as much as your body responds.

Jake’s hands roam your body with a familiar ease, but this time, there’s a softness to his touch, a kind of reverence that makes your skin tingle. His mouth moves back to your neck, trailing down to your chest, and you can feel the heat between the two of you intensifying. Every kiss, every touch, feels deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment in a way that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re completely lost in him. His mouth is everywhere—on your skin, your lips, your neck—and all you can do is let yourself fall deeper into the moment, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him, as he moves against you. You’re no longer just two friends sharing a casual hookup. This is something more. And it terrifies you as much as it thrills you.

Jake pushes your legs a little further apart as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself. He spreads the precum that formed at his tip around the head with his thumb before pumping himself a couple of times.

He then presses the tip through your folds as he gently pushes into you. His eyes find yours as his hips slowly move until they are pressed flatly against yours. Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips before he started slowly moving in and out of you.

Your breath started to hitch as he moved in and out of you, each thrust feeling like it was a little deeper than the last. Slowly his pace started to quicken.

“J-Jake,” you moaned as you started to move your hips up to meet his.

You feel his lips curve into a smirk against your neck before he whispers, “God, I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

Baby. That was new. He’d never used pet names before.

But you didn’t have time to overthink it because his hand slid down your stomach until one of his fingers started rubbing circles on your clit. You felt your back arch up off the sheets as the knot in your stomach tightened even further.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm right there.

“Not yet. Wait for me, baby. I’m…I’m almost there,” Jake breathily said as he picked up his face even further. Your hands grabbed at the sheets as you tried to hold it off, but it was getting nearly impossibly.

“Okay, come with me baby.” He breathed after a few more thrusts. Your toes curled and you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you. It was the most intense one he had ever given you. It left you feeling slightly dizzy as you laid there trying to get the air back into your lungs.

Once the intensity subsides, your breaths gradually even out, but the room still feels heavy with the lingering heat of what just happened. Jake shifts beside you, his body slightly resting on yours as if he’s reluctant to let go. His skin is warm, slick with a light sheen of sweat, and his chest rises and falls against your back. Slowly, his arm drapes lazily over your waist again, pulling you even closer until there’s barely an inch of space between you.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, a gesture that feels impossibly tender compared to what had just transpired. It sends a strange flutter through your chest, and you can’t help but close your eyes, sinking into the feeling. His lips linger there for a moment, as though he’s savoring the closeness, his breathing still a little uneven as it fans across your skin.

You lay there in silence, the warmth of his body cocooning you, and for a fleeting second, it almost feels like more than just a fling. Jake holds you like you’re something precious, his grip on you gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he loosens it. His fingertips lazily trace small circles on your hip, an absent-minded gesture that sends ripples of electricity through your skin.

But even as your heart skips in response, your mind is racing. The intimacy of it all—of him kissing your shoulder earlier, of the way he’s holding you now—feels too close. Too much. Like it’s crossing a line you weren’t prepared to cross. You stare up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above you, trying to quiet the thoughts spinning in your head.

What are we doing? It’s the question that’s been eating at you for weeks now, but after moments like this, it feels impossible to ignore. You’ve been telling yourself for months that it’s just physical—that this friends-with-benefits thing is working. But lying here, wrapped in Jake’s arms, the weight of his body still pressed against yours, you can’t help but wonder if it’s something more. And if it is—what does that mean for the two of you?

Beside you, Jake’s breathing has slowed, becoming more even, and you can feel his muscles relax against you. He looks so at ease, so content, like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s disarming, seeing him like this, without the cocky smirk or swagger. Just Jake, quietly holding you in the early morning light.

He doesn’t say anything—maybe he’s thinking the same things, maybe he’s not thinking at all—but the silence between you feels charged, like there’s a conversation you should be having but neither of you is ready to start. You know you’ll have to face the reality of what’s happening between you eventually, of what it’s becoming. But not right now. Not yet.

For now, you’re content to stay here, tangled up with him in this moment. His arm still draped over you like he’s anchoring you to him, his breath warm against your neck, and the lingering heat from the sheets creating a bubble you don’t want to burst just yet. It’s safe here, in the quiet aftermath, even if it’s complicated. Especially because it’s complicated.

Eventually, Jake shifts beside you, the movement pulling you out of your thoughts. His arm loosens around your waist, and you can feel him adjust himself behind you. There’s a slight pause before he moves, as if he’s hesitant to break the moment, but then he finally leans back. You hear him run a hand through his tousled hair, the sound of it brushing against the pillow beside you.

With a small sigh, you push yourself up slightly on your elbows, feeling the cool air hit your skin as the blanket falls away. You turn your head just in time to see Jake glancing at himself in the small mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his hair again, making sure it still looks good. It’s such a Jake thing to do—caring about how his hair looks even after everything that just happened—and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

He catches your eye in the reflection, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lazy grin. “Pull yourself together,” he teases lightly, the heat from earlier still lingering in his tone. “You look a little... well, you know.” His eyes flicker over you in a way that makes you feel warm all over again.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. Instead, you push the covers off and slide out of bed, your legs still a little shaky as you stand. You make your way over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and doing your best to hide any signs of what had just happened in the bedroom. The cool water is refreshing, helping you regain some sense of normalcy after the heated intensity of the morning.

When you finally feel composed enough, you step out of the bathroom and make your way through your apartment, finding Jake by the door. He’s already pulling on his shirt, his movements casual and unhurried, as if the last hour hadn’t completely turned your world upside down. He glances at you as you approach, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

The two of you walk out together, the easy silence between you feeling both comfortable and charged, the weight of what just happened lingering in the air between you. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the parking lot, and for a moment, everything feels almost normal—like this could be any other day.

You head toward your car, the cool morning breeze brushing against your skin, but before you can reach the handle, you feel Jake’s arm snake around your waist. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your temple. The gesture is light and easy, like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. And maybe he has—but it still feels different now.

Your heart stutters in your chest as the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin. You wait for something more—for him to say something, to acknowledge the shift between you—but instead, Jake gives you a small smile, his signature smirk just barely there, and turns to walk toward his truck.

You blink, watching as he pulls open the door and climbs inside, the engine roaring to life. His truck pulls out of the lot, disappearing around the corner like it’s just another day. Like nothing extraordinary just happened. Like he hasn’t turned your world upside down in the span of a single morning.

And you’re left standing there by your car, fingers still hovering near the door handle, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. What just happened? He kissed you goodbye—and went on about his day like it was nothing. Like it was routine.

But it didn’t feel routine, not to you.

Your stomach twists, a confusing swirl of emotions rising inside you. You’re no stranger to Jake’s touch, to the way he holds you close in private, the way he knows exactly how to make you feel good. That was the arrangement—the simple, no-strings-attached setup that the two of you had fallen into. It had worked perfectly at first. Fun, light, uncomplicated. But this morning, something shifted. And it scares you.

You press your lips together, your fingers tightening around your car keys as you replay the morning’s events in your head. The softness in Jake’s kiss. The way he held you like it was more than just a fleeting moment. The way he kissed your shoulder earlier, something so intimate it almost felt like a confession in itself. But none of it made sense. You weren’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Right?

You lean against your car for a moment, trying to sort through the haze of emotions clouding your mind. There’s an ache deep in your chest—something that wasn’t there before. It’s that feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for weeks now, the feeling that this wasn’t just about hooking up anymore. Not for you. And maybe not for him either.

But then why did he just leave? Why did he act like this was nothing more than your usual routine?

You bite your lip, trying to shake off the growing uncertainty. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Maybe this is just what happens when you start spending too much time together outside of the original arrangement. Lines blur, things get messy, and suddenly it’s not just about sex anymore.

But the worst part is, you don’t even know what you want. You don’t know if you’re ready to confront whatever this is becoming. If you’re ready to have that conversation with Jake, to open up the possibility of things going wrong. Because things were good—before they got complicated. Before last night. Before this morning.

You sigh, the cool breeze brushing your hair as you glance toward the empty spot where Jake’s truck had been parked moments ago. Your mind is a jumble of emotions—confusion, longing, fear, and something else you’re not quite ready to name.

What if Jake feels it too? What if he’s just as confused as you are?

But then again... what if he doesn’t?

You unlock your car door and slide into the driver’s seat, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. You don’t know where this is going, or what happens next, but one thing is clear: things have changed between you and Jake. And you can’t go back to the way things were, no matter how much you might want to.

As you sit there, staring out at the quiet street ahead, you wonder if Jake is thinking about you now, if he’s replaying the morning in his mind like you are. Or if, for him, this is still just part of the arrangement—a fun, easy fling that hasn’t crossed any lines.

Your fingers tap against the steering wheel, the echo of Jake’s kiss still lingering on your skin.

You thought you had it all figured out. But now, standing on the edge of something new and uncertain, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve fallen in deeper than you ever intended to.

And the scariest part? You’re not sure if Jake’s ready to follow you there.

[jweekgoji]

Hello! Can I request a nsfw cogged Orion pax x cog less femme reader ? I was thinking after he came back from the surface to his miner friends.

Cogged!Orion/Cogless!Femme!Reader [TFO]

tw: size difference, valveplug (MDNI), soft and inexperienced!Orion, sub-ish!Orion at the start, first time, awkward intimacy, size kink. word count: ~1800 a/n: uni work makes me a little more busy now, but i hope i am not making you wait for too long. i tried to read it a few times and check for mistakes, but i'm eepy so...

Orion likes to touch. The way he gently places his servo on one of his friend's shoulders or lightly taps their frame to get the attention, it's how he used to show his care towards someone, to bring comfort. Growing up and being surrounded by many bots, some so friendly or not, it was natural for him to become the most tactile bot you ever met.

With you, it is only worse. The young troublemaker just can't stand a minute without having his servo around you, because that's how he is, so clingy and needy of the same affection and closeness with you.

You can't remember at least a one day when he wouldn't approach you with a surprise hug from behind, often pulling you closer to his chassis during a short breaks from working in mines. Even though every day he was risking his own life for the better of Iacon, sometimes even smacked by your supervisors, he never lost this innocent smile on his face. What more does he need in his life when he has you next to him?

Orion is the real definition of the sunshine person, the natural-born leader, always everywhere at once, seeking for more trouble the second you look away from him.

When he is so close, servos around your waist, his chassis against your own, you find it difficult to stare for too long into those big, bright blue optics of his, you feel your own one straining as if you had been looking for too long at the Sun.

Now the same intimacy between the two of you feels different, somehow, the touch is as gentle as before, but the usual brightness of his optics is not the same. Orion himself now looks different.

Stronger, taller, mature...tired?

A lot had happened in that short time he had on the surface of your home planet, so you never press on him to tell you more about than he wants. Right now, he wants to cling to the bits of comfort you can provide. How much he wants to hug you tighter, just to express that suppressed desire for warmth and solace.

Orion's hold around your waist tightens just a little more before he slowly relaxes. He notices how his servo is large enough to wrap around your entire waist now.

He knows you're strong, no matter the difference in size or lacking the cog, it doesn't make you any less strong than him. If anything,  the position you are in makes him more vulnerable than you ever have been. It's almost cute how quickly he pulls his servos from you after holding you a little tighter than he intended to, already looking all awkward and guilty, like a kicked puppy.

“Sorry, didn't uh...” he pauses for a moment, his optics shyly flickering to one side and to the other, then going back to your face. “...didn't mean to do that.”

How can he be so afraid to touch you now? As if you were made of a fragile glass? You couldn't help but huff, placing your servos on his face, your thumbs gently moving over the smooth metal of his helm. That tiny little «ears» he had now much longer, as you note silently in your mind, and that almost makes you want to gently tug at them.

Orion leans into your touch, closing his optics and relaxing, as he lets you caress him. In a position like this, when you straddle his thigh, he has nothing against letting you do whatever you want with him. Makes it easier to focus on the feeling and relax, rather than the constant fear of doing something wrong.

You can feel Orion's servo carefully placed over your own, his digits circling over your wrist in an almost soothing manner.

If only someone could see you two right now, such a big bot like him, melting under the touch of the small no-cog? And you were the one, acting all gentle towards him? The thought makes him shiver in pleasure, just staying with you like this is enough to warm his spark.

You lean closer for a kiss, struggling to reach for his face, until he tilts his head down, meeting your lips. A quiet groan escapes from him once you press yourself closer. If you try to listen intently, you might hear how fast his spark is beating in his chamber right now.

His servos slide lower, moving over the sides of your frame, only to stop to rest on your thighs, digits gently squeezing the soft plating.

There's something in his mind wanting more of it—that just those innocent, butterfly like kisses and tight embraces aren't enough, his spark practically yearning for your body against his.

But he can't tell you this, can he? He doesn't want to sound too greedy, too pushing, you probably aren't ready for him...for this. He never wants to make you feel uncomfortable. Orion would rather let you do everything at your own pace, no matter how agonizingly slow your servos move over his frame right now. It seems like a silent torture once you start teasingly moving your index finger around the center of his chassis, where the empty slot for his t-cog once was.

Orion tilts his head back a little, servos visibly trembling, as if trying to ground himself from flipping you underneath him and finally having his way with you. The silent struggling doesn't go unnoticed by you. Even though it was obvious to both of you, how much he wants to continue and ask for more, but he refuses to beg for it. He feels too shy, too scared to ask it from you, stubbornly suffering in silence.

Luckily for Orion, you might be no less stubborn than him as you begin gently grinding against his thigh. Slowly, carefully at once, just to concentrate on his reaction to this. You were ready for him to tell you to stop or to pull away immediately, but your concerns disappeared as soon as you heard a soft, strangled moan.

“Don't stop,” he manages to say between heavy breaths, optics half-lidded as he looks at you.

It's almost like he was waiting for it for cycles, given how quickly he wraps his servos around your thighs, only to position you between his legs, your back now pressed against his chassis.

He knows you're small, with him being almost twice your size, there's no way you would be able to take his spike without hurting you. Just thinking of it, of accidentally making you hurt at the moment as special as this...—

“It's fine” you murmur softly in response, leaning back against him. "Let's start little by little at first."

Orion only nods silently, and you can almost spot a tiny blue tint on his cheeks the moment he finally opens up his interface panel for you. A mech his size, and here he is, nuzzling his face against the top of your head in weak attempts to hide his own shyness, and that could not but encourage you to continue.

You lower yourself a little, so your valve could gently grind against the tip of his spike, already glistening with droplets of transfluid. You wonder, how long has he been like this, trying to ignore his own needs when you were right beside him?

A thin line of lubricant spreads around your entrance, mixing with your own wetness, now making you shudder at the burning, hot feeling, seeping into your frame. It is so unfair, the way you are so, so close and at the same time, so far away from where he desperately wants you to be. It's too much to bear.

You are so tiny compared to him, he can't help but remind himself to always be careful with you. Not to hold you too tight, or maybe not to accidentally break you the moment he can finally push his spike deep into you. No, no, don't get too tempted with ideas, Pax!

Orion groans softly, breathing a hot air against the crook of your neck. You're barely doing anything, and somehow, it is just too much. You can feel his spike desperately twitching against your folds, as if silently begging you to take mercy on him. He grinds against your entrance once more, rubbing the tip until he lines up with your valve.

He carefully thrusts up into you, the tip of his spike slipping in and out, just a fraction. It takes all of his self-control not to give in to the urge to thrust up into you, to bury himself inside you till the hilt. Even then, he is grateful for everything you give him.

“So good, so good around me, sweetspark,” he praises, planting a soft kiss on your neck, muttering your name over and over again in sync with a slow roll of his hips.

Orion groans as you continue to meet his thrusts, moving your hips against his own. The thought of his sparkmate, so smaller than him and yet you're taking him so well. There’s no mistake, Primus himself blessed him with you, with how perfect you are for him, everything in you is flawless. There is no way you weren’t created and destined to be his.

He looks down at you, an obvious fascination and adoration in his optics once he meets your own. The sight of you, almost salivating from pleasure alone is enough to push him over the edge.

It feels much more intense for you than you could have imagined. Each slow, tender thrust makes you arch your back as he stretches your insides. You already struggle to take him like this, with not even a half of his size inside you, yet you're already a shaking and whining mess on top of him. So full.

You let out a soft mewl once Orion thrust into you again, and that was enough to suddenly bring you to overload. You pant softly, closing your optics for a moment to catch your breath. Poor, poor tiny thing, didn't even fully realize how close you were already with how good his spike felt inside you.

You feel him throb inside you again, and you tense up at the realization. He didn't reach his own release.

Orion notices your slightly panicked state when you gently try to sit up again, only to slump back against his chassis, too tired to move for now. Despite everything, he's happy. He's so, so lucky to have you right now. It's so adorable how you immediately think of his own pleasure, a second after your own overload.

“Don't worry about me,” he gently kisses the top of your helm, his servo soothingly rubbing your thigh. “It brings me more pleasure to watch you like this.”

[rene-darling]

TAKING- advantage of the strongest

He's been having a hard time lately, he's lost Suguru, his one and only, of course- you on the other hand are overjoyed at that fact.

It's annoying, after all, you've done for him, he calls out his name instead of yours, it's time you taught him a permanent lesson on manners.

P.s I TOLD YOU ITS NEVER GOJOVERRR RAHHH- [credits- __3aem on insta]

Also, follow my insta r3xni3 n text me, let's talk, im bored!!

...gojo Satoru...

Seeing Gojo with his head in his hands sitting at the edge of the school stairs wasn't a new sight for you, in fact for the past week you've been seeing him sitting there.

Crying, sobbing, or simply sitting in misery. He's always thinking of that damned suguru. Honestly, it was hard to get him to show you any affection with suguru around, and now that he's gone it's gotten even harder!

It's not that you hate suguru, you just love gojo, and seeing your gojo in pain annoys you, but. It also makes for the perfect opportunity to shove yourself in his life, when he's most vulnerable and make him rely on you

"what up 'toru?" Sitting down next to him gently touching his shoulder, you can't be too forward now. "..mhm, it's nothing." Hmm, well you knew it wouldn't be that easy, of course he wouldn't open up to you just yet! So you'll just keep trying- "come on satoru, this isn't like you, you're the strongest-"

"Can you leave? I'm not in the mood y/n." Running his hands through his hair he groaned as he hid his face. You got up without a word, it's fine, if he pushes you away you have many more ways to push back harder.

The continuing weeks during classes you would always make small talk, distracting his mind from geto. Then you'd buy him sweets saying that there was some buy one get one free offer, which is why you had brought one over for him there wasn't

You occupied him on the missions he'd usually go to alone, keeping him from feeling lonely. No matter how hard they were and no matter how much strain they put your body through you'd reassure him, you're fine!

He'd notice how you'd push yourself for him, it made him- feel. Feel something other than the constant sorrow due to Geto's absence.

He started reciprocating your 'kindness'. he would let you rest your head on his lap after a stressful mission and sometimes..he'd rests his own head on yours.

Shoving yourself in his life to replace the sorrows he felt didn't only include platonic relations. Every once in a while, whenever the feelings of loss came back too harshly, all he wanted was to forget. Get lost in pleasure, in anything, just- just please make him forget.

His tears which usually stained his face due to sorrow, now stained his face due to mind-numbing pleasure, his body was yours for the destroying, just please, please make him forget. Even if just for tonight!

" 'toru, use your words now, tell me what you want, hm?" You moved your hand ever so slowly, it hurt. "Just- just please, touch me, ruin me, do whatever you want. I'm yours, yours all yours- Suguru please.

Hah- fuck. He's so lucky he's Gojo Satoru. your gojo Satoru. You can feel yourself growing numb as you let out an unhinged chuckle "Sure Satoru." You try pronouncing his name with that same softness, to replicate that tone of pure love and kindness geto had, but alas, you never truly get it right.

Still, it's close enough for him. as he whines, bucking into your hand. You have half the mind to leave him like this, writhing on the bed, but you never do. This isn't the first time, and certainly isn't the last. You're sure every single fucking time you've seen satoru he's called out his name,

But, as you gaze down at him and as he stares up at you with his pretty blue eyes which spill with tears by the second, you can't help it. Perhaps you pity him, or perhaps you simply don't care if he's using you as a means to an end, since in return, you get to be the one fucking him dumb. And not Suguru, 'cause he's dead. But that's beside the point.

Rocking his world as his vision blanks, eyes rolling back as sweat covers him. You don't mind the pain of when he bites into your shoulder, you don't mind the fact that Suguru's name slips out of him more than your (can be fake) cock

But, for some reason you just can't take it today. Something takes over you, you swear, as you grab harshly onto his neck, gasps leave his throat as he huffs for air. "Wh- Ah pl- EAse- hah."

"say my name." "Wha- AHh-" pressing your hand down harder you're sure it'll leave marks. "Y/n. Fucking say it you dumb bitch." Tears fall down from his cheeks and onto your hand but it only seems to egg you on "Ah- mhm y-y/n please?" As you let go gits of his coughs fill the air as his pink chest rises up and down for air

Suddenly he gasps once more as you push against his prostate, you're far too pleased with him saying your name to let him rest, even to catch his breath.

His cries ring in your ear as his hands scratch onto your skin, leaving deep bloody marks in their wake he stares up at you with his tear stained eyes, mumbling only your name for the rest of the night.

You hope he's learned his lesson, and if not. You wouldn't mind teaching him another one.

[nana-gumi]

my heart belongs to.. who? g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of cremation, depression, starvation, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of self-harming, please read at your own risk!! NOT PROOFREAD AGAIN HELP (i'm sleepy alr but i want to update TvT)

a/n: here's the part two of the 'anyway, don't be a stranger.' yes the title has changed. also based from a song a piece of you by nathaniel constantin. that's all, enjoy reading ;) PLS NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAPPEN TO SEE TYPOGRAPHICAL ERRORS!! THANK YOU <3

now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

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satoru doesn't know why something in him ached when he randomly spotted his best friend, his dear best friend, suguru with you, on a random place and at a random time.

your backs were turned to him but he surely didn't like the way you cling to his best friend, it hurts him in many ways he couldn't explain but, satoru knew too well that he doesn't have the rights to feel that way, that's because every pain and sorrow that has happened to his life would be different if he didn't do that one big mistake.

ever since the divorce, satoru never saw you again. you left and none of the people you knew where you've gone to. satoru thought it was for the best that you should be away from him because the moment he feels vulnerable again, he would look for your presence, even though you weren't together anymore.

although sometimes, satoru do hope that you didn't run away from him. he wanted to fix everything, to apologize, to try things with you again. he never wanted anyone other than you. you were the only person that could see his other sides, the only person who knew him very very well, the only person he wanted to grow old with but everything was too late already.

he shouldn't have listened to you when you pushed him away and there, he would've never saw the pain look in your face when both of you separated your ways, he would've never saw the way you tried to stop yourself from crying infront of him, and he would've never saw the way you accepted to keep your wedding rings so desperately as if he would still be around you if you keep it.

satoru regretted every decision he made up until now, it was all of his fault, it was his fault why you had to leave, everything was his fault, you didn't have a choice because of him and he hoped that you've already forgave him for that. he really hoped so.

because of the heavy thoughts, satoru didn't know why his feet brought him to his best friend's apartment. maybe to ask how you were doing? are you still single? do you have a new lover now? was it suguru? are you both dating? oh gosh, he hoped not. it could be anyone but his best friend.

"(name) trusted you with it suguru, you shouldn't break your promise." satoru suddenly stopped on his tracks. that was shoko's voice, he was sure of it.

"but, don't you think he still has the right to know? satoru's the father after all."

"you're right though but—"

"what did you just say?" both eyes were widened at the sudden appearance as satoru revealed himself from hiding as he went closer to his best friends.

"when did you—"

"i'm the father? what do you mean?" satoru asked as he furrowed his eyebrows and suguru looked away from him. satoru could recognize the worried look of his best friend's face. "shoko?"

"well.." she mumbled, looking at suguru.

"are you hiding something from me?" satoru asked.

"it's not like that—" shoko said.

"then why do you both look nervous?"

"satoru." suguru called as he felt shoko's hand stop him and she shake her head left to right. "i'm sorry, but he needs to know."

"needs to know what? come on."

"satoru, you had a child, with (name)." and he couldn't be more surprised as he looked at suguru, lost and confused.

"what?"

"yeah, unfortunately, sanyu is—"

"stop." satoru said as he placed a hand on his temples. "is this some kind of prank? therefore, it's not funny."

"satoru, i'm not lying." suguru said, his expression blank.

"no. that's— that would be impossible.."

"go talk with her, satoru. heh, in the end, i couldn't keep my promise to her, huh?" suguru said as he placed a hand on his nape. "i'll send you the address, go." and satoru didn't waste any more time as he walked towards the front door but suguru stopped him again. "satoru." he called and suguru almost laughed at the worried and somehow excited look on his best friend's face. it's been a while since he saw that.

"what?" satoru said, cleary annoyed and impatient as suguru lightly smiled at him.

"be gentle with her, she's still vulnerable." satoru didn't get what suguru meant by that as he finally left, following the map where suguru had sent him.

you knew this day would've eventually come as you stand face to face with your ex-husband, he was panting and you were just about to go back home from the convenience store.

"(name).." he whispered your name as he took a step close to you, another one, and then another one as he started sprinting, embracing you in his arms and no one knew how much he missed feeling you around his arms. you let him embrace you but you stopped yourself from doing the same thing, you just stood there.

"why are you here?" you asked as satoru pulled away, his sleeve flying on his eyes as he slightly rubbed it. he was about to tear up.

"is it true?" satoru asked and he hoped you get what he meant with the question as you slowly nod your head.

"let's go inside my home first. it's getting cold here. i'll tell you everything there."

and there both of you ended up inside your home as satoru quietly inspected the surroundings. there was your picture and his son hanging on the wall.

"here." you said, handing him a glass of water. "i'm guessing suguru told you?"

"no. i actually overheard them."

"i see."

"so, where's.. um— can i see our child?" he asked and your heart ached at his question. you thought suguru told him already?

satoru didn't know what to do you when you started sobbing as you covered your face with your palms.

"you can't." you mumbled, wiping your tears as you look down on your lap.

"i understand.. but if you're—"

"you can't, satoru. we can't—"

"i know. i know you still don't trust me but i promise i will—"

"he's gone, satoru! don't you understand it? he's gone, he's dead, we can't see him anymore!" you exclaimed. everything was just overwhelming and you didn't mean to yell at him. "i'm sorry." you mumbled, once again, covering your face with your hands as you cry.

you felt his presence beside you as he wrapped his arms around you. he didn't know what else to do and satoru thought being close to you will help, being close to you will maybe help his almost shattering soul.

"i'm sorry." satoru said as he felt your arms around him. was this suguru meant when you were still vulnerable. he should've asked suguru to be more clear so there, satoru would know how to comfort you very well.

"i'm sorry, satoru. i kept him away from you when he wanted to see you. i should've pushed aside my own feelings and let sanyu meet you but i just couldn't, and now guilt is eating me up. it's my fault he couldn't see his papa on his last days. it was his last wishes but—"

"shh, stop it already. it's okay. don't blame yourself."

"i'm really sorry." no. satoru told himself he doesn't deserve your apologies and thinks everything was his fault to begin with.

"it was my fault that i couldn't be there for you. for our son. i deserve all the blame." satoru said as you slightly pulled away from him as you wiped your tears.

"it's not your fault either. sanyu was born with a weak heart. i couldn't protect him with that, no?" you said as you placed your hands on your lap.

"when we met at the parking lot, was that?.." you nodded your head in response as you recalled that day.

"that was the day after sanyu died." you mumbled and satoru couldn't help but clench his jaw. if only he knew.

satoru snapped out of his thoughts when he felt you sit up from the couch as you kneeled infront of the small table, taking something beneath it as you went back beside him.

"come, i'll show you his pictures." you said as you smiled at him and satoru couldn't help but mirror you. just for now, maybe you both could be happy, even just for now.

-

"he even cut his own hair, look!" you exclaimed, pointing a certain picture as satoru laughed with you.

he missed a lot things. when you were carrying his child, when his son was born, when his son was growing up. he wasn't there to witness everything and he almost– no, he regrets it so so much.

"i almost dyed his hair black 'cause he reminds me of you so much." you sighed as you closed the album, finally reaching its end as you place it on the table.

"we really do look like each other." satoru said as you lightly smile at him.

"you're not wrong." you responded and suddenly, it became silent.

"i'm sorry (name)." he started as you stayed still in your position. "i tried looking for you." he continued as he held your hand on his with you still avoiding to look at him. "why didn't you tell me before?" he said and that's what made you look at him. is he seriously asking you that?

"i don't know, satoru. do you?" you asked and he was completely taken aback.

"you should definitely go home now, someone might be waiting for you.." you said as you stand up from the couch, only for him to stop you by your wrist.

you looked at him for a moment and he did too. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as your hand slowly slipped out of his grasp and you turned your back at him.

"if you want to know more about sanyu, just ask."

it's been a week since you and satoru talked things out. it felt good to be able to talk everything with him. you thought at some point that satoru will hate you even more for not informing him about his son's existence but it was the opposite.

and maybe, you shouldn't have stalked his social and there you wouldn't stumble on his ex' account, because you never knew that it would hurt you this much, that it would hurt your already, broken heart.

you felt some type of jealousy seeing his family be happy in those pictures. they even went on a trip, on different places and many more. satoru looked happy. maybe if those mistakes were prevented back then, it would be you, him and sanyu.

there were missed calls and unread messages from suguru and shoko but you didn't have the energy to reply to each of them.

you just wanted to lay in your bed all day, almost wishing that sanyu would knock at your door asking for a help with his assignment, but no, it wouldn't happen anymore. you were all alone now, you'll never be able to feel happiness again, everything felt too empty for you to feel any type of emotions except for sorrow.

-

your eyes slowly opened when you felt something cold in your forehead.

"you're finally awake."

"what happened?" you asked as you tried to sit up from the bed, only for satoru to push you back.

"don't stand up yet. you passed out on the living room. you've been sleeping for a day already. are you eating? don't starve yourself." he talks too fast that you almost didn't catch his words.

"why are you here?" you asked.

"well.. i guess i want to know more about sanyu." he said as he hesitantly looked at you. "i'm sorry for walking around your house without your permission but, i saw a small shrine on the room beside here. is that sanyu's?" satoru asked as you nod at him.

"i forgot to tell you but i had sanyu cremated."

"okay, i understand."

"you can visit him anytime if you want."

"that would be great. thank you."

satoru did visit once a week. you noted that it was always on thursdays, just like suguru had told you that satoru's always available on thursdays.

your house would be messy if satoru wasn't around but if you knew that he'll be visiting, you'll force yourself to clean the house. you didn't want him to see you in worst state again, not anymore. he didn't have to know that you were starving yourself, that you would only eat when he brings you food.

he doesn't need to know. not that he would care, right? satoru is not in the position to care for you after all. he only visits for his son, it's wasn't because of you. maybe you should stop being delusional and face the reality that satoru and you couldn't work together anymore. he already has a family on his own. he has nothing to do with you anymore. a part of you is still hoping though but then again, he doesn't need to know.

there was a time where satoru visited you on tuesday. it was unexpected that he caught you almost hurting yourself. house and room messy.

it hurts him to see you like this. he couldn't help but to compare the old you to the you now. a big difference. he doesn't see you smile anymore. he doesn't hear your laugh anymore.

"you needn't to hurt yourself, okay? tell me if i can help in any way." he said as you sit on the couch, knees close to your chest as you stare at nothing.

your thoughts was playing with you because all of the sudden, you recalled everything that has happened between you and satoru. his mistakes, his wrongdoings, his happy family. your blood started to boil and you couldn't help but blame him in your mind. that it was his fault why sanyu have to suffer.

"hey, i know it still hurting you but—"

"you know nothing!" you exclaimed which took him off guard. he was unfamiliar with that look in your face.

"(name), calm down." he said as he tried to reach for you, only for you to slap his hand away.

"shut up! don't order me around! can you just leave my house?" you yelled. "this is all your fault." you mumbled and satoru heard it loud and clear. you weren't wrong though. "leave! i don't want to see you anymore. i hate you."

-

and even if you push him as many times as you want, satoru would not lose hope. he still visits you and sanyu. though he took note of the changes in your mood sometimes.

satoru visited late than usual. you already fell asleep on the couch. you swore you weren't waiting for him or something. it just happened that you got tired from the cleaning the house.

after the usual visit of you and satoru in your child's room both decided to eat the food he brought.

"sorry i was late. i had a hard time choosing a ring—" he cuts off himself with a fake cough as he looked away from you. "anyway, sorry for making you wait."

"it's fine. thank you for bringing me food."

"of course."

today, you seemed a lot more good now. satoru can notice you smile everytime. he didn't want to assume that you're smiling because of him though.

"is there something wrong?" he asked when he noticed you staring at him.

"i'm fine. thank you for visiting." you said as you walked satoru at the front door. "oh wait." you said, walking back to your room as satoru stood still on the front door and you went back after a minute.

"take this." you said, handing him a certain necklace.

"for me?" satoru said, taking the necklace in your hand.

"i asked them to put a little bit of sanyu ashes inside. you can't open that anymore since they locked it." satoru's eyes widened at your words.

"thank you." he said as you smiled at him.

"here, let me help." you said, as you wear the necklace on him. "sanyu will always be by your side, wherever you are." you said as you smiled and suddenly, satoru turned around, his face was too close to you and you think he could almost hear on how loud your beating heart is.

you awkwardly took a step back as you cleared your throat to ease the awkward tension.

"thank you (name), really. i will treasure this." he said as you smiled at him, for the last time.

"sorry for yelling at you sometimes, satoru."

"don't worry, i understand. just let me know if you want to release some stress. i'll try my best to help." he said and despite of answering, you only smiled, again.

"thank you, satoru. sanyu was the best son i could ever have." you said and he suddenly placed a hand on your head. like how he always does before as he leaned to your level.

"thank you for raising our child." he said as you look at him with widened eyes and you couldn't help but frown as you place a hand close to your chest.

stop giving me false hope, satoru.

"take care." you couldn't help but tear up as you whispered those words as satoru left. be happy, always. even if it's without me.

"i had a hard time choosing a ring." you mumbled, mimicking his words.

you smiled but what you were feeling inside was opposite. maybe you shouldn't expect too much because in the end, if reality didn't reach your expectations, it'll just hurt you more.

it really hurts to think that you made a man for another woman but, it is what it is. you're just glad that satoru seemed to cherish his new family now.

he did changed a lot, huh.

"satoru."

"be quick, suguru. i'm a bit busy right now." satoru said as he heard his best friend sigh at the other line.

"did (name) said something to you?" satoru immediately sat properly on his office chair when he heard your name.

"nothing much. she gave me a necklace though, why?"

"i see. look, if you have time today come in her house."

"why? what happened?"

"do you have a time today, at least?"

"i guess i could try." satoru said. "is there something wrong with (name)." satoru asked and there was a long pause from suguru's end before he answered.

-

satoru went back from what it seemed like a long trip as he sat on his office chair.

he stared at a certain velvet box on his table. his black glasses was discarded as he lightly move the office chair left to right.

he did had a hard time choosing a ring. he doesn't know of you still like the same design. did you change your preferences?he doesn't know that's why satoru bought a limited edition ring for you. he was told that the ring brings luck and now he just wanted to throw the ring in the middle of an ocean.

"brings luck my ass." he muttered. he was too tired to think. he refused to believe suguru's words because he just saw you 2 days ago. was suguru playing pranks on him again?

"she's been found in her room. unalive." suguru's words kept repeating inside his head like a broken radio as he clutched the necklace on his hand.

he was supposed to ask you to start over again, to try things out again, from there, he swore that he wouldn't do the same mistake again but it was all too late now.

maybe the universe didn't want you and him to be together again that's why they took you away from him, his son too. he knew he did mistakes back then but was it too much that they have to take his family away forever?

yeah, this must be his punishment for doing those unforgiving things to you.

-

"suguru, do you think (name) would agree if i ask her to start over again?"

"there's nothing wrong with trying, satoru, but know that people tend to change. don't be surprised when she doesn't want you in her life anymore." suguru said as his best friend kept quiet. "but what about them?"

"who?"

"your ex and your son."

"i couldn't care less about her, but i still cherish sanyu since he grew up with me, even if he's not my legal child."

"you don't really want to tell (name) about it?" suguru suggested and satoru couldn't help but think if he could do what his best friend is suggesting.

"what's the point? will it change everything?" satoru mumble, an ache going straight to his chest. "it hurts for me to say this but i only accepted to raise sanyu because i couldn't stop thinking of (name), of having a family with her. i forced myself to believe that he's our son. i didn't even know that (name) is actually carrying our child."

"why don't you just sue your ex for paternity fraud?"

"there's no point in it. she's still sanyu's mother."

"you're too nice, satoru."

no, he wasn't. in fact, he almost sent his ex to prison but he couldn't stop thinking of how sanyu will react if he found out that his mother was sent to jail by his father. he was too young for those things.

but satoru asks himself, why? why does he have to do these things? why does he have to think of how sanyu would feel? they weren't relatives anyway. he could take everything he spent for raising sanyu, he could just leave them to live their own life, but he just couldn't do it.

"if only i could go back in time." satoru mumbled and suguru didn't know what do respond to that anymore. if only.

tags: @skylarlyn823 @mo0nforme @mor-pheus @he4rts444mi @bubblysunwoosworld @arieltate @imaniitheoneee @kaiiriiis @ichikanu @witchbybirth @yoimiya-m @hojoslutoru @itsvalomfg I COULDN'T TAG THE OTHERS SORRY TvT