#if you’re struggling pls reach out to someone

[misswynters]

Broken and whole

pairing | Viktor x gn!reader

no warnings just passionate kissing

a short drabble until we wait for the next three episodes with jesus viktor <3 (he’s always been so fine)

– let me know if you would like to get tagged in arcane fics

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3

In the night sky as the moonlight shines through the windows, the lab was filled with the low hum of machinery. It had a faint metallic scent of Viktor’s latest work. You leaned against the wall, watching him from across the room as he worked, utterly engrossed in his latest project. He had changed so much recently, both in body and spirit. The hextech augmentation now coursing through his leg gave him a powerful, refined look, yet you sensed a hidden struggle behind his carefully guarded gaze. You knew how he was. His mind was only half here, the other was lost somewhere between ambition and uncertainty.

He hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on the delicate mechanisms of the device in front of him. You admired him, his steady hand, his unwavering concentration, the way his golden eyes seemed to burn with a fire that was part passion, part burden. Yet you could see the toll it took, even if he would never admit it.

“Viktor,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head lifted, and his intense gaze softened slightly as he saw you. “Ah,” he said, letting out a breath, “I didn’t realize you were here.” There was a hint of relief in his voice, as if your presence offered him a reprieve from the depths of his mind.

You approached him slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of the table. “I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “It’s been days, Viktor. You need to rest.”

A flicker of defensiveness crossed his face, but it melted quickly, replaced by something almost vulnerable. “Rest,” he echoed, his voice laced with exhaustion. “It feels like a luxury I cannot afford.”

You stepped closer, your heart aching at the sight of him so worn down, so caught between his dreams and the demands of his body. “Even visionaries need a break,” you murmured, reaching up to gently place a hand on his shoulder. He was warmer than you expected, his skin cool to the touch from the metal but still unmistakably him.

Viktor looked down at your hand, as if surprised by the intimacy of the gesture. His gaze softened, and he let out a soft, reluctant sigh. “Perhaps… perhaps you’re right,” he admitted, a slight smile breaking through the intensity of his features. “You always have been, haven’t you?”

There was a warmth in his voice that pulled you closer, and for a moment, you forgot the cold metal and complex machinery that surrounded you. You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders under your touch.

“Viktor…” you murmured, your voice almost trembling with the unspoken words you had held back for so long. He looked at you, truly looked, his golden eyes reflecting something vulnerable, something raw that he rarely let show. “Yes?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your fingers tracing along his jawline, feeling the softness of his skin against the hardness of his prosthetic. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head toward you, his gaze focused solely on your face, as if you were the only thing grounding him in this moment.

“I worry about you,” you whispered, your voice almost lost in the quiet hum of the lab. “You give so much of yourself, but you leave so little room for…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “For someone to care for you.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his hand lifting slowly to touch yours, his fingers tentative but warm. “I… I hadn’t realized,” he murmured, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met your eyes again. “But with you, it feels… different.”

A moment of silence passed between you, and in that silence, the unspoken words lingered, the weight of everything you had both held back coming to the surface. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor leaned forward, his face mere inches from yours.

“Different how?” you asked, your heart pounding as you felt his breath against your lips.

“Like I could… lose myself in you,” he whispered, a vulnerability in his voice that shook you to your core.

Before you could respond, his lips brushed yours, soft at first, testing, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands moving to cup his face as he deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. There was a hunger in his kiss, a desperation that spoke of the weeks, months, maybe even years he had spent holding back, afraid to want this, to want you.

The passion between you ignited, his lips pressing against yours with a fervor that surprised you both. Viktor’s hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if he needed to feel every inch of you, as if he were afraid you might vanish. His breath was ragged, each exhale a confession of how long he had kept himself from this moment.

He pulled back, only slightly, his golden eyes searching yours, his face open in a way you had never seen. “You…” he whispered, as if the words failed him, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are the one thing that makes me feel whole.”

You could see the storm of emotions in his gaze. Desire and hope. They were all woven together, vulnerable and unguarded. You wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself sink into the feeling of him holding you, his heartbeat quickening against yours.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone, Viktor,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his, your fingers trailing down his arm, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingertips. “I’m here. Let me carry some of it with you.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath as he held you close, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair. “I never thought…” His voice cracked, and he took a moment to steady himself. “I never thought anyone could love someone like me.”

Your heart ached at the words, at the quiet self-doubt that he kept buried so deep. You tilted his chin up, meeting his gaze with all the strength you could muster. “I don’t love you despite anything, Viktor,” you said, your voice steady. “I love you because of who you are, all of you.”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and then he kissed you again, harder this time, as if pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, his fingers pressing into you as though you were his anchor, the one steady point in the storm that was his mind.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet of the lab, lost in each other. Viktor’s hand traced gentle patterns along your back, his touch tender, almost reverent, as if he was memorizing every detail of this moment. And in that embrace, in the warmth of his kiss, you felt him let go of the weight he carried, just a little, as he allowed himself to surrender to you, even if only for this fleeting, stolen moment.

banner by: @cafekitsune

[goldfades]

❝ 𝐚𝐟𝐜 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬, burrow. ❞

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you give joe his own celebration after winning.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | NSFW! minors pls dni. plot w/ smut, messy head sesh (joe receiving), cigar mentions, praise and um... nothing else? pretty self indulgent.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | if you guys enjoy this i might just write more for joe 🫣 if you guys have any requests, my inbox is open rn!

The crowd is electric, buzzing with that rare, palpable energy that comes only when an entire city feels the taste of victory on its tongue.

The stadium lights are still blazing, casting a golden glow over the field, and you can see Joe, helmet off, hair slightly mussed from the game. He looks different tonight—not the quiet, calculating Joe who keeps everything just below the surface. This version of him stands tall, eyes sharp, taking it all in with a sly, almost cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You’re swept up in the energy as he walks towards you, chest out, shoulders loose, like he owns the night. His usual restraint is nowhere to be found; every bit of him is reveling in this moment, and it’s as if he knows exactly how everyone is looking at him, yourself included.

The cheers and the chanting blur together, and you feel your pulse match the beat of the stadium around you. He's coming closer, that rare glint in his eye—the kind that says he knows he's good, and tonight, he’s not hiding it. He reaches you, and before you can even say anything, his hands find your hips, pulling you in with a confidence that’s both unexpected and thrilling.

Joe isn’t usually one for public displays, especially after a game when he’s all focus and steady composure, but tonight is different. Tonight, he’s every bit the champion and you can see it in the way he looks at you, like he’s not just savoring the win but the whole world in his hands.

Without a second thought, he cups your face, his touch warm and firm, and his lips crash into yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. The kiss is fierce, almost possessive, and your heart skips a beat as you realize he doesn’t care that everyone’s watching—that someone, somewhere, probably has their phone out recording this very moment. He’s completely wrapped up in you, and for this one fleeting moment, you’re the only thing that exists.

When he finally pulls back, there’s a smudge of your lipstick on his lips, unmistakable and bold, and he’s got that cocky grin again, wider this time, unbothered by the smear of color. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away a trace of lipstick, his eyes sparking with that rare, unabashed pride.

"Guess I’m taking home two trophies tonight," he murmurs, his voice low, just for you.

His hand stays on your hips, grounding you as you’re both swept up in the exhilaration of the night. The crowd, the lights, the whole stadium could disappear, and it still wouldn’t matter. Joe doesn’t care about anything else—he’s made that clear.

━━━━━

The club pulses with energy, dark and sleek, lit by flashes of neon lights and thrumming to the bass-heavy beat of music that vibrates up through the floor. The exclusive afterparty is alive with players, coaches, friends, and the lucky few who managed an invite, and you can feel the buzz of victory in the air. It’s thick with the thrill of the win, the endless energy of a city that hasn’t been able to stop talking about Joe and the team since last year’s championship.

Joe’s beside you, his hand never leaving your back as he navigates through the crowd, and he’s still got that spark in his eyes. There’s a looseness to him tonight—a magnetic energy that draws everyone in. He’s in his element, basking in it, tossing back easy laughs with his teammates, tossing friendly jabs at anyone who dares question the next championship he has in mind. Every time someone congratulates him, he pulls you closer, and even though he usually keeps things more private, tonight feels like a night for breaking his own rules.

You’re holding onto his arm, laughing along with him, when his teammate Sam catches sight of the lipstick stain that still lingers faintly on Joe’s mouth.

He raises a brow, grinning wide, and elbows Joe. "Looks like the MVP’s got more than a trophy tonight," Sam jokes, his voice teasing but warm.

Joe doesn’t even bother to wipe it off. Instead, he smirks, pulling you closer with a shrug that radiates easy confidence. "Best accessory, don’t you think?" he says, voice low but loud enough to carry over the music, and his arm slides around your waist, holding you against him like he doesn’t plan on letting go.

You laugh, leaning into him as he glances down at you, that cocky spark in his eyes making your pulse race. Joe has always been cool, confident, but tonight there’s something different about him—a unrestrained pride that makes you feel like you’re standing in the middle of something unforgettable.

“Careful,” you tease, looking up at him, your voice playful. “Keep that attitude up, and they’re going to start thinking you’re actually enjoying the attention.”

He chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. “Guess I might be, just a little,” he admits, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “It’s not every day you get to win back-to-back championships. Gotta let myself enjoy it for once, right?”

Before you can answer, Ja’Marr sidles up beside him, grinning from ear to ear. He’s got that same victorious look in his eyes and you can tell he’s been looking forward to this moment just as much as Joe has. Reaching into his pocket, Ja’Marr pulls out a fat cigar, extending it to Joe with a knowing smirk.

“Time for a victory smoke, QB,” Ja’Marr says, his voice light but laced with pride. “You earned it.”

Joe takes the cigar, turning it over in his hands as if considering it, then lets out a low, appreciative laugh. He glances at you with a grin. “Guess we’re going all out tonight, huh?”

You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and his hand finds your waist again as he turns back to Ja’Marr. “Thanks, man,” Joe says, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ja’Marr shakes his head, feigning modesty. “Nah, tonight’s all you, bro. I just happened to be along for the ride.” He steps back, lifting his own glass in a toast, and the whole crew around you does the same, echoing the sentiment as they raise their drinks.

“To Joey,” Ja’Marr calls, his voice carrying over the music. “And to running this city two years straight!”

The crowd roars in agreement, and Joe raises the cigar in salute before flashing that unrestrained smile again, lighting it up with a satisfied exhale. He takes a slow, deliberate drag, letting the smoke curl lazily from his lips as he relaxes back against the booth, pulling you close beside him.

“You know,” he says, glancing at you with a grin that’s both relaxed and intoxicatingly self-assured, “could get used to this whole king-of-the-city thing. But only if you’re here with me.”

“Think I could make that work,” you reply, smiling as you tuck yourself against him, his arm solid and warm around you.

Joe leans back in the booth, his arm still looped around you, his blue eyes sharp and unmistakably bold as he exhales a long, lazy stream of smoke. There’s a cocky tilt to his mouth, something magnetic that holds your gaze, and when he catches you staring, that grin only deepens.

“You look a little too comfortable holding court like this,” you say, smirking, leaning into him just enough that your knee brushes his.

He gives you a look that makes your stomach flip, tilting his head as he takes another drag from the cigar, never breaking eye contact. “I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, just loud enough for you to hear over the noise.

The way he says it, like he owns the moment—and maybe you, too—sends a thrill down your spine. You lift your chin, refusing to look away, feeling the tension spark like electricity between you.

“You sure you can handle the attention?” you challenge, arching a brow. “I don’t remember you being one for the spotlight.”

“Oh, I can handle it,” he replies, voice dripping with confidence. He leans in, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his lips a mere breath away from yours. “Question is, can you?”

His eyes are dark, daring, and you feel his hand press against your waist, fingers brushing the bare skin where your shirt rides up slightly. The club is hot, noisy, and every beat of the music seems to pulse between you, building the tension.

Before you can answer, he leans in even closer, his mouth hovering by your ear. “Because from where I’m sitting,” he murmurs, “you’re looking at me like you’re ready to break a few of my rules tonight.”

━━━━━

And that's how you ended up back at the hotel, on your knees, looking up at Joe like he was the only thing that mattered. The room is quiet now, a stark contrast to the pulsing energy of the club, but the silence makes everything feel sharper, more charged. The dim lights cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the confidence that radiates off him with every breath, every small movement.

He’s standing there, looking down at you, his eyes dark, studying you with that intensity that makes your heart race. There’s a cocky, satisfied smile playing at the corner of his lips—a hint of pride that you can’t help but want to unravel. You can see the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his breathing steady, controlled, even though you know he’s feeling every second of this as much as you are.

Joe’s hand lingers on your face, tilting your chin up just a bit more as he watches you, his eyes tracing every detail like he wants to commit it to memory.

Your hands worked on his belt as he let out a quiet groan and he doesn’t stop you, lets you take control for a moment, and the way his breath catches in his chest makes something inside you stir. He’s always the confident one, the one who stays in control, but tonight, in this space, everything feels different. It’s like he’s giving you the freedom to move, to touch, to test just how far you can push him.

“God,” he mutters, his hand sliding from your face to the back of your neck, his fingers curling just lightly around it, like he’s marking his place, claiming it without saying a word. His thumb gently strokes over your skin, sending a pulse of heat through you as you finish loosening his belt.

The moment the buckle comes free, you pull him closer, your fingers tracing his waistband as you look up at him, your lips just a breath away from where he needed you most. His chest rises and falls rapidly now, a sign that you’re getting to him, that the tension is starting to break.

He leans down slightly, his breath hot against your ear, voice low and rough. “You know, you could make me forget the whole damn night with just a single move.”

You smile, a slow, teasing thing, as you drag your hands down to his bulge, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten in anticipation. There’s a challenge in his eyes, a dare, but you don’t rush, taking your time, letting every moment hang between you like a promise. The way he’s watching you, waiting for your next move, only makes the tension between you more intense.

Joe’s gaze darkens even more, the intensity turning almost possessive as his hand sliding into your hair again, gently pulling you up to meet his lips in a kiss that’s every bit as hungry and desperate as it is passionate. He’s pulling you closer and you can feel the weight of him, the heat of his body, as he presses you back on the floor.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low, full of need. The way he says it, like he can’t hold back, makes you ache with want. He falls back on a chair behind him, his eyes full of need. You know exactly what he wants as he spreads his thighs.

“Come on, baby. Give me what I want,” he urges breathlessly as you find your way in between his thighs.

Your hands slide back to his thighs, fingers brushing against the hard lines of his body, and you can feel his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes.

You finally pull off his underpants, freeing his hardened length. He lets out a breath as his hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Joe doesn't wait any longer, he pushes you downward until your lips meet his warm tip.

“Taking your time, huh?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire, a hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he watches every movement you make. There’s a slight smirk on his lips, but it fades quickly as you press a little closer, opening your mouth to finally take him.

He lets out a guttural groan as his grip tightens in your hair. The taste of him is intoxicating, you couldn't help but let out a sound of your own. Your lips wrap around his thick cock effortlessly, taking him slowly.

Joe wasn't in the slow mood, though. His grip in your hair didn't loosen as he began moving your head in his own accord, your muffled moans egging him on. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag as your fingers scratched his thigh instinctively.

“That's it, baby,” he groaned breathlessly. “Take my cock, just like that.”

Your jaw was already sore, your chin was dripping with a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum but somehow you still relished in this. Your eyes were watering as you tried to keep them open, watching Joe's every expression and hearing every sound. Every praise that left his mouth spurred you on, your mouth sliding up and down his wet cock.

And despite the mess you've made, Joe still thought you were the sexiest woman alive. He couldn't look at you any longer, because he swore he would just cum at the mere sight. You slipped off his cock, your tongue flicking his tip as you caught your breath. You slowly took him back in, humming at the feeling of being so full.

His hand tightened in your hair as his head fell back on the chair, his mouth slightly open as he groaned. “Oh fuck, yeah. Keep going,” he grunted. “Gonna cum, fuck.”

Before you could even react, his cum filled your mouth as you moaned around his cock. You tried your best to swallow all of it before you slipped off, your chest rising up and down. Looking up at Joe, he wore a fucked-out expression, all his previous cockiness had softened into something raw and unguarded.

His head is tilted back against the chair, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he tries to catch his breath, his gaze finding yours with a look that’s equal parts amazement and satisfaction. The flicker of dim hotel light casts shadows across his face, highlighting his features in a way that makes him look almost softer, stripped down to just Joe, without the bravado and the public image.

He lets out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair, which is now mussed and a little wild. “Think you just ruined me,” he murmurs, voice still thick, a slight rasp lingering from the exertion.

His hand reaches down, fingers grazing your shoulder before sliding up to brush against your cheek, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he takes in every inch of you with that slightly dazed, contented gaze.

You smile, a satisfied warmth spreading through you as you sit back, watching him collect himself, looking at him in this quiet, vulnerable moment. “Maybe I just wanted to see if I could,” you reply, voice raspy with an edge of pride. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and the thrill of it lingers in the air between you, sparking like the last remnants of a fire.

Joe chuckles, his fingers trailing lightly along your jaw, then down to your chin, where he tilts your face up to meet his eyes fully. “Oh, trust me,” he says, his gaze darkening again, though now softened with something deeper, “you’ve got me right where you want me.” He leans forward, his lips brushing yours in a soft, almost tender kiss that lingers longer than you expect, as if he wants to savor the moment. He could taste himself on your tongue, making his ego skyrocket.

For a minute, neither of you speaks. There’s just the sound of your breaths mingling, his other hand slips up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and he gives you this look that makes your heart race all over again, even after everything that just happened.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

TW suicide

my biggest conspiracy theory is that suicide helpline/crisis lines are purposely obtuse / useless, so that you’re so baffled by their advice that you forget that you wanted to die in the first place

[torubeth]

degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)

context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.

ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.

‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.

‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.

correction, you shatter.

somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.

and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.

‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’

quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.

‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.

when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.

‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’

‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.

god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.

‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.

‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.

geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.

‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.

‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.

‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.

‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.

‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.

‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.

‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.

since when did he-?

out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-

‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.

‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.

what the fuck am i doing, he thought.

slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.

‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.

‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.

‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.

his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.

he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.

nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.

‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.

‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.

the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.

he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.

‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.

a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.

slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.

‘sweetheart…? why are you…’

you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.

‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’

his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’

[agustdiv1ne]

💨‧₊˚.° 11:58 p.m. (m) — choi yeonjun & kang taehyun

genre: smսt, threesome, doms!fratboys!taejun, sub!fem!reader, friends to ???, high sex + car sex = 😵‍💫

wc: 4.9k (someone sedate me pls)

becoming friends with frat boys was never part of your plan for college. 

alas, here you are, two of them basically surgically attached to your hip. your first semester of junior year has been full of surprises thus far, your blooming friendship with yeonjun and taehyun being the most significant one; what started out as partners for a project has transformed into a close friendship with the two guys, and your new norm now consists of grabbing starbucks together before heading to class, hitting the gym with either one or both of them in tow, and — for better or for worse — attending their frat’s infamous parties every weekend.

and lucky you: you’ve just arrived at one.

as you climb the steps of tau chi tau’s gigantic house, you spot the bright blond hair of one of the pledges on door duty — your favorite pledge, actually. 

“sunoo!” you greet, tackling him into a hug as soon as you reach him. he reciprocates easily, his lips curling into a small smile before he’s pulling away.

“you’re late,” he teases. “your boyfriends are already high off their asses.”

you scoff, nudging his shoulder with a closed fist. “first of all, they’re not my boyfriends. second of all, they knew i wasn’t gonna be here for a while, and i promised i’d be their d.d. tonight, so,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes playfully, but opens the door for you anyway.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. they should be in the basement,” he says, gesturing for you to go inside. “just be careful, it reeks down there.”

you laugh. “thanks, dude.”

as the front door shuts behind you, you take in the state of the house. the air is hot and humid against your skin, your shoes getting stuck on the floor that is covered with liquids you’d rather not identify. some rap song pounds in your ears, and you nod your head along to the beat as you slip between a small space between two groups, finally reaching the door that leads down to the basement. the moment you swing it open, the potent stench of weed bombards your senses. your nose scrunches up — sunoo wasn’t wrong.

in vain, you wave your hand in front of your face as you make your descent. the haze floating in the air grows a bit thicker the further that you go, your only goal now being to get them out of here before you start feeling the effects as well. you eventually have to drive, for christ’s sake, and you’re not looking to get a dui anytime soon. with one last step, you make it to the bottom of the staircase. the music is quieter down here, but the smell is far worse than upstairs. a familiar laugh pulls your attention to the couch facing away from you, two very familiar heads of hair catching your attention. as you sneak up behind them, you press your index finger against your lips, silently telling beomgyu — who sits on the couch opposite to them — to keep quiet. he simply smirks at you.

“y/n’s here,” he calls. annoyed, you flip him the bird and send him a scalding glare before leaning over the back of the couch, your scowl quickly being replaced by a grin. two pairs of red-rimmed eyes find yours, widening in tandem when they register that you are, in fact, there. 

“my baby!” yeonjun cries, his hands reaching up to pull you down towards him. his lips meet your forehead, pressing an aggressive kiss there, palms squishing your cheeks to hold you in place. you struggle to pull away from his grip, ignoring his pout and insistent grabby hands once you do. you sate him by linking your fingers with his. 

“you’re later than usual,” taehyun comments from next to him, a smile permanently etched on his lips, the sight a testament to his inebriated state. unlike yeonjun, he doesn’t move to touch you, perfectly content with watching. 

“i literally told you earlier that i had a paper due at twelve,” you remind him, removing your hands from yeonjun’s as you round the side of the couch, aiming to sit on the arm of it. that is, until yeonjun pulls you between them so that you rest on his left thigh and taehyun’s right. yeonjun wraps an arm around your waist, while taehyun rests a hand on your upper thigh. you try your best not to squirm. they’re your friends, but you’re not fucking blind. 

“you could’ve asked me for help,” taehyun murmurs close to your ear, squeezing the meat of your thigh. his warm breath tickles the side of your neck, and you gulp. directly across from you, beomgyu meets your flustered gaze, an amused eyebrow raised as he sinks further into the couch. you tear your eyes away from him to focus on your fingers twiddling in your lap. 

“i-i didn’t wanna bother you,” you admit, and he emits a giggle. the hand not sitting on your thigh reaches over to pinch your cheek.

“you’re so cute,” he coos, and for some reason, the praise goes straight to your center. “i wouldn’t’ve minded.”

okay, time to go. you don’t think you can handle any more of their pda, and you’re starting to feel a bit weird after inhaling all of that smoke. if you want to get to their apartment, you need to leave right now. standing, you stretch your limbs in a poor attempt to rid them of their shakiness. 

“time to go,” you voice, turning to face them. their eyes are dark and hooded as they look up at you. you falter a bit, stumbling when yeonjun rapidly leans forward and gathers you in his arms again. 

“but i don’t wannaaaa!” yeonjun whines, pulling you back onto the couch and straight onto his lap, his grip around your waist tightening enough that you’re pulled against his chest. “ten more minutes!”

sighing, you wiggle in his grasp, to no avail. you look over at taehyun for help, only to find him laughing at the sight. then, an idea pops into your mind, something that you know will appeal to both of them.

you turn your head towards yeonjun. “what if i take you to mcdonald’s?”

that gets them going. after one last odd look and crude gesture from beomgyu, you guide them out of the house and into yeonjun’s car. taehyun rides shotgun, while yeonjun mumbles in the back about how that’s unfair treatment — it’s his car, after all. despite yeonjun’s initial complaints, the drive over to the closest mcdonald’s is filled with loud, off-key singing from yeonjun and hysterical giggles from taehyun. it makes your eyes roll, but a tiny grin pulls at your lips all the while. 

“you’re lucky i love you guys,” you mumble, pulling into a spot in the parking lot after giving the drive-through worker the largest order that they have probably ever received, digging into your mcflurry as they silently inhale their burgers, fries, and their own mcflurrys. the pace at which they eat both impresses and terrifies you.

as soon as all three of you have finished, you begin the drive over to their place. you assume that they will let you stay over given how late it is, and it’s not as if they’ve ever minded before. after a few minutes, you realize how oddly quiet they’re being, and you look over to find taehyun staring at you, eyes unblinking and full of an emotion you can’t quite place. you whip your head back to the road — until you hear a sharp shink from the back. looking through the rearview mirror, you find yeonjun’s lighter poised to a brand new joint that rests between his plush lips, the flame bright and inching closer and closer to the paper.

“dude, you are not about to hotbox this car,” you groan. “put the fucking lighter down.”

“it’s my car. i can do whatever i want,” he mumbles in defiance, the lighter moving precariously closer again and illuminating his face in the dark backseat. you swing an arm between the two front seats in a poor attempt to grab the lighter. a hand moving to your thigh — taehyun’s hand — and squeezing nearly causes you to swerve the car before you gain control again. 

you glance over at the boy next to you as his fingers trail up and down your inner thigh, panic lacing your pupils, but you are distracted once again when the flame in your peripherals returns. “yeonjun, i swear to god—”

“don’t you want some?” taehyun interrupts, his hand stilling on a patch of skin high on your thigh, dangerously close to your center. “you worked hard today, you should let loose.”

you do. you really, really do. the stress built up in your muscles has become almost overbearing, and you’d think that it would be gone after your paper was out of the way, but no. honestly, all you want to do right now is relax, and taehyun’s offer is more than tempting — but you also don’t want to crash yeonjun’s car. at the same time, you are within walking distance to their apartment, so maybe…

“fine. just— just let me park first,” you concede, pulling into the nearest empty parking lot, parking in the dark back corner and subsequently cutting the headlights. twisting in your seat, you find yeonjun already prepared with an old pill bottle full of pre-rolled joints. an insane amount of them, actually. you snatch one and place it between your lips, reaching for the lighter in yeonjun’s other hand, only for him to pull it away. 

“nuh-uh,” he drawls with a lazy smirk. “c’mere.”

in curiosity, you lean forward, wondering what, exactly, his game is. he sets the bottle down, and his fingers reach up to grip your chin, fingertips lightly digging into the skin as he brings the lighter up and lights the joint for you. your stomach flips, your thighs automatically closing around taehyun’s hand. wrenching your face away, you turn towards the front again, heart racing in your chest as you take your first hit. then another. you block out the other two as you allow your high to take over. you don’t notice taehyun’s grip on you slip away.

over the course of what you think is a few minutes, your body begins to relax into the seat, head thrown back against the headrest as your brain fogs up. blurry eyes stare up at the gray ceiling. you eventually register just how hot it is, then notice the sheer amount of smoke that’s floating past your vision. a finger pokes your cheek, and you follow the hand back to taehyun. you smile subconsciously.

“such a lightweight, so cute,” he says, tapping his finger against your cheek again. you notice that he doesn’t have a joint of his own. “gimme a hit.”

“get your own,” you reply with a defiant hum, cheeks warming as you jokingly shield your joint with your body. he sighs. 

“c’mon, i just wanna try something. you trust me, right?” he murmurs. blinking hard, it takes you a moment to send him a lethargic nod. he peels the joint from your fingers with ease. “come closer.”

you obey, leaning over until mere inches separate your faces. he grabs you by the collar of your t-shirt, urging you to come closer. his eyes flit to your lips before they meet your gaze again — as if the weed wasn’t enough, this whole situation is rendering you even dizzier. 

silently, he pushes a thumb against your lips, pressing forward to part them. your mouth immediately accommodates the digit, and it presses against your tongue for a moment before dragging down to your bottom lip, your saliva mixing with your lipgloss. something quiet and pathetic sounds from your throat, your breath stuttering in your chest when he bites down on his own lip, his big, wide eyes far from innocent as he stares at you.

“keep it open,” he quietly orders, voice low and demanding, before he removes his thumb completely. you sit there, mouth agape like a fish out of water while he places your joint to his lips and inhales deeply. the seam of his lips closes immediately. then, he leans in, his lips mere millimeters away from yours. he holds your gaze as he opens his mouth and blows the smoke into your mouth, and you inhale it with a shaky breath. it travels down your throat and deep into your lungs, but the heat that spreads through your body isn’t from the smoke — no, it’s something overwhelmingly feverish. needy, wanton. 

the moment your eyes flutter close, taehyun’s lips are on yours, the taste of him sweet from the ice cream he ate earlier. the smoke you exhale passes between your parted mouths, drifting out into the cabin of the car. he feels around for the cupholder, then for his soda, using a single hand to pop open the lid before he’s dunking the lit blunt into the liquid, the movement of his lips unwavering all the while. he wastes no time in curling his palm around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he devours you whole. 

“holy fuck,” you vaguely hear yeonjun gasp, too far gone in the sensation of the languid, saliva-slicked kiss. it feels as if you are floating on top of a cloud, and you move to grab at his bicep to ground yourself. taehyun slips his tongue past your lips, curling the muscle around your own and immediately establishing his power over you. whining into his mouth, you attempt to pull away, only for yeonjun to cup your face and take over the kiss. taehyun’s hand slides down your neck and to one of your covered breasts, groping the soft mound of flesh over the fabric of your t-shirt. you moan into yeonjun’s mouth.

gentle hands pull you over the center console and into the back, yet yeonjun doesn’t break the kiss as he gathers you in his lap, your trembling thighs straddling his hips. you feel his cock press directly into your center when presses you down by your hips. your arms throw themselves around his neck, your lips slotting against his like a matching puzzle piece. the car rocks when taehyun slinks to the back as well, but yeonjun refuses to share you, hips angling upwards to grind his boner harder against your panty-clad core. 

“quit hogging her, you asshole,” taehyun growls from next to you, flipping your skirt up in the process to reveal your lacy panties to their eyes. the man next to you caresses the swell of your ass before landing a light smack. you jolt on top of yeonjun with a pathetic squeak, and his hand comes down again. in stark contrast to his actions, his tone is kind, perhaps a bit condescending, as he addresses you, “ooh, that feels good, doesn’t it? our baby likes to be spanked?”

their baby? something warm fills your veins at that, a quiet whimper muffled by yeonjun’s mouth. with the thin fabric of your panties embarrassingly sticking to your folds, you tear your lips away from yeonjun’s to hide your face in his chest, unable to face either of them. however, the rhythm of your hips does not falter. yeonjun forces you to look at taehyun with a firm grip that squishes your cheeks together, your lip puckering involuntarily. 

“answer him.” his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks. a shiver racks your body despite the feverish heat surging through your body. knowing your voice will betray you, you opt for a shaky nod. 

taehyun’s gaze burns into your own, the blunt, rounded edges sharpened by lust. his dark pupils are the only thing that you can see in full clarity, the rest a foggy blur. “use your words.”

“yes,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut and your cheeks hotter than they’ve ever felt before. the feeling has spread down to your neck, your chest, the epicenter settling in your lower stomach. it festers there and tears at your insides like a feral beast and all you can think about is them — them using you, them fucking you. your breathing grows heavier before you feel a tap to your cheek, the skin stinging at the contact. 

“open your eyes, baby.”

you’re not sure who says it, but either way, you submit. eyelids fluttering open, you find both of them peering at you like two wolves stalking a soft, wide-eyed little lamb. your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth when they exchange scheming looks, their hands all over you as they maneuver your body as if you’re a doll. when did they plan this? how did you not notice their soft murmurs? 

you end up sitting between them, legs spread wide with one leg thrown over each of their laps. taehyun aims his focus towards your breasts, shoving your t-shirt up and yanking your bra down with little care, a hand tweaking one of your tits as the other curls itself in your hair and yanking your head back against the headrest. you cry at the sensation of his lips mouthing at your neck and his fingers pulling and groping your sensitive flesh. on the other side of you, yeonjun wastes no time in attempting to divert your attention back to him. shifting your panties to the side, he caresses your folds before dipping down to your entrance and groaning. 

“oh my god, you’re fucking soaked,” he groans as he gathers your wetness on his fingertips. “tae, you gotta feel her.”

said man’s hand leaves your breast, reaching down to join yeonjun’s at your center. a light brush over your clit causes your hips to twitch before he’s reaching down to swipe your entrance and—

“shit, you’re right,” taehyun breathes against your neck. “that’s so hot.”

without speaking, they begin to work in tandem as they pick you apart. a quiet, barely there voice in the back of your mind wonders if they’ve done this before, but that thought is quickly shooed away once two of yeonjun’s long fingers slide into your needy hole to the knuckle, the delicious stretch of your walls causing you to keen. your spine arches off of the seat when he begins to slide them in and out, curling up and grinding into that sensitive little spot inside you that you can never quite hit. meanwhile, taehyun ghosts a finger over your clit that aches for stimulation, his free hand digging into your thigh to keep you spread wide for them, your leg twitching in his grasp. he circles the sensitive bud as yeonjun adds a third finger to the mix, his movements growing faster as he feels your walls relax around his digits. taehyun ducks his head down to your breast, wrapping his lips around your nipple, his teeth scraping lightly against it. crying out, you plead for them to keep going. 

“such a tight little pussy,” yeonjun rambles directly into your ear, and you clench around his fingers. he nibbles at your earlobe before he continues, voice deep and growly and too much. fuck, it’s too much. “you look s’sexy right now, y’know that? so fuckin’ pretty. gonna make sure you can’t think about anything but us— gonna fuck you so dumb, baby. haven't even had our cocks ‘n you’re already losing it. s’cute.” 

with how wound up you are already, it doesn’t take long for the heat building in your stomach to bubble over, the overwhelming sensations all over your body coaxing you through your intense orgasm, waves a pleasure wracking your trembling body, your release coating yeonjun’s fingers while taehyun leans up to capture your lips. your whimpers are muffled by his mouth. the pleasure seems to have no beginning nor end, dizzying and causing your mind to drift somewhere far away, barely able to reciprocate the kiss. neither of them stop their ministrations until you’re pawing at their hands with a pitiful whine, your words staccato and incoherent.

you sit there, chest heaving and your clothes disheveled, barely able to comprehend the way the two boys argue over who should have you first. hands fly in front of your vision, a closed fist versus a flat hand, and though you can barely see through the smoke floating through the air and your terribly cloudy vision, you recognize that they’re playing a petty game of rock-paper-scissors. a dopey giggle shakes your body as you throw your head back against the back seat. they share a concerned glance. 

“y/n? can you look at me?” taehyun carefully asks. your empty-headed grin remains on your face while you turn to face him, humming in half-baked acknowledgment. he frowns, a hand coming up to cup your face as he takes in your red-rimmed, glazed over eyes. he peers around you towards yeonjun. “i don’t know if she can take more, jun.”

the words sober you up slightly, your grin dropping. “n-no! wan’ more, wan’ your cocks,” you ramble. “need them, please.”

“you heard her. she needs us,” yeonjun muses, already reaching for your loose limbs. “‘n i won, so c’mere, baby.”

yeonjun gathers you into his lap like earlier. this time, however, you feel his tip pressing at your fluttering entrance, an arm around your waist to hold you up. he looks up at you with a smirk. “ready, baby?”

you nod, and he wastes no time to begin slowly pushing your hips down. the flared, leaky head of his cock breaches your entrance. you whine, walls fluttering around him already as he moans. the rest of him presses into you inch by inch. it seems as if you can feel him everywhere — in your stomach, in your throat, the length of his cock almost too much for you to handle. the tip curves perfectly against your, his shaft grinding against your g-spot as he gently rocks his hips, allowing you to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. your whines grow pitchier as he finds his rhythm, hands on your waist as he bounces you up and down on his cock. he curses under his breath, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. he watches you with his tongue between his teeth, lips curled into something cruel and patronizing.

“feelin’ good, pretty?” he breathes, eyes rolling back into his skull as he begins to snap his hips to meet your own. the slap of skin grows louder, echoing throughout the car along with each of your moans and whines. your eyelids flutter, speechless, a cry tearing from your throat when he swipes a thumb over your slick clit, your walls tightening further around him. he doesn’t seem to mind your lack of response, and with a string of curses, he slams you down harder, lips clashing with yours as both of you chase your highs. desperation coats your tongues as he bites down on your bottom lip, pulling it back as you whine, clinging to him desperately, nails biting his skin and leaving deep half-moons in their wake. the slight sting of pain spurs him on, pulling away to spew filthy words into your ear.

“gonna fuckin’ cum deep inside you— ohh fuck, you seem to want that, hm? t-tightened so much around me. you need my cum, don’t you? say you need it,” he demands, holding your face close to his, dark pupils searing into your skin. a light slap to your cheek wakes you up a little. “c’mon— shit. say it or i won’t give it to you.”

“n-need it!” you unabashedly sob, feeling your high hit you. “please, jjunie, cum in me. pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

a deep groan cuts your pleas off, a warmth that floods your walls following close behind. he paints your insides white as he whimpers against your neck, hips twitching as he fucks it further into your hole. you quiver on top of him, holding him close with your arms slung around his neck, nearly in tears at how amazing it feels, sweat clinging to your skin and sticking to your shirt. it takes you much longer to come down this time, your body twitching erratically as the aftershocks continue to roll through your body. 

“jesus christ,” taehyun mutters next to you, and you remove your face from yeonjun’s violet hair to look over at him. his cock lays heavy in his hand, veins bulging as he strokes up and down, pausing at the top to swipe the bead of precum at the tip and smear it over the angry head. the sight causes your mouth to water. the urge to feel him against your tongue is almost too much for you to bear. sliding off of yeonjun with a whine and sore legs, you go to lean down for a taste — before taehyun stops you with a firm hand.

“what do you think you’re doing?” he asks, jaw set as he leers over you. 

“i-i just wanted to—”

“nuh-uh, baby. you don’t just get to do what you want. jun and i are in charge here,” he says, squeezing your jaw roughly. “now, get on your back. head on jun’s lap.”

silently, you do just that, finding yeonjun’s dick already rock hard again right near your face. your juices mixed with his cum gives his lengthy cock a light sheen in the low light, but your attention is soon pulled back to taehyun when he wraps his legs around his waist. towering above you, he guides his head along your slick folds, smearing the remnants of your and yeonjun’s last orgasm along himself. he taps it against your clit, chuckling when your hips jump.

“such a sensitive little thing,” he coos. taehyun doesn’t warn you as he guides his cock to your entrance and pushes his hips forward in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt in seconds. the feeling of his cock inside you is far different than yeonjun’s; taehyun’s is a little shorter, but much thicker, the stretch of your hole borderline painful. 

“h-holy fuck, you’re tight,” he gasps, voice sharp as he tries to hold himself together, resting there for a moment as he allows you to adjust to the sudden intrusion. the moment your hips start to grind against him, his jaw ticks, rolling his hips into you as he watches your brows furrow and mouth fall open into an ‘o.’ hands grip your waist as his thrusts quickly sharpen, harder and deeper and cruel. you blink up at him, whining. smoke hangs around his head like a halo, but the cruel snap of his hips is far from holy. 

diverting your gaze away, yeonjun poises his tip at your lips for you to suckle, breathing shaky as your soft tongue delivers kitten licks to the head. just as he curls a hand in your hair, you slip your tongue into the small slit at the very top as your moans vibrate against him, reveling in how he hisses at the feeling, his thighs flexing beneath your head. your dopey smile returns, eyes rolling back as taehyun continues his hard thrusts, quiet grunts falling from his lips as angles his hips upward in an attempt to get your gaze back on him. it works, your eyes widening adorably as he presses his cock right against your g-spot. his teeth graze his bottom lip, biting down hard when he feels you clench around him, a direct result of yeonjun tweaking one of your puffy nipples. 

taehyun is quiet as he fucks you, only quiet curses coming from him as he uses your body to chase his orgasm. a hand slides up your stomach to wrap loosely around your throat. he barely puts any pressure, but it’s enough to send you reeling, a third high, weaker in magnitude washing over you. after the amount of teasing he put himself through earlier, taehyun isn’t far behind, fingers slightly tightening against your neck as he thrusts into you quicker, coaxing you through your orgasm as his own finally hits him. his moans are high-pitched and whiny as he spills inside you, his cum mixing with yours and yeonjun’s, sticky and hot and satisfying. yeonjun cums against your lips immediately after, forcing you to take his tip into your mouth to taste him. you greedily swallow his release, allowing him to gather the escaped liquid with his fingers and shove it against your tongue. 

pulling out, taehyun watches as the thick, white liquid spills from your hole and onto yeonjun’s leather seats. he gulps, pushing it back into you with thin, lithe fingers as you barely react, brain practically rendered mush. 

“that was…wow,” yeonjun mumbles, caressing your cheek as your eyelids flicker closed. taehyun hums in agreement as he fixes your clothes back into their proper place. lethargic and dumb and feeling so, so warm and full, you drift off into quiet, bleary dreams. their voices seem far away now, their tones faintly worried at your state. a cool feeling washes over your body, causing you to shiver, eyes blinking open for a moment to find the windows now rolled down, airing out the smoke. the cool air feels fresh in your lungs; you’re grateful for it. you close your eyes again, finally passing out for good. 

none of you are sure where this situation will lead when you wake…but you suppose you’ll just have to cross that bridge when you get to it.

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[iluvloganhowlett]

Feel free to reject this request since it’s kinda heavy, but maybe Hugh kissing the reader’s sh scars but it’s like friends to lovers? Preferably f reader but gen is fine too

YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL ❀˖°

in which logan draws stars around your scars

warnings: HEAVY MENTIONS OF SH⚠️⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS IS A TOPIC YOU CANNOT HANDLE, angst, blood

i actually love this request as someone who struggles w sh themselves so pls don’t be afraid to ask smt like this!

i also switched it to logan instead of hugh bc i feel like he just fits the part better and this isn’t friends to lovers it’s just lovers😭 sorry

“you drew stars around my scars. but now im bleeding.”

you couldn’t help it, the burning sensation of the blood dripping down over your old scars was a feeling you couldn’t resist.

for 2 years now you’ve told yourself that you’d stop, thay you’d get better. especially since logan came around and made you want to get better. but you couldn’t, no matter how hard you tried.

more sooner than later did the tears of guilt and regret begin pooling your eyes, the hot liquid dripping down your face as you held the cold towel to your wrist harder.

you knew logan would be up here any minute; his class was coming to an end soon. the last thing you needed was him walking in on you cutting yourself after you told him you’d stop.

you took a deep breath, drying your wrist and slapping a few bandaids on it before looking at yourself in the mirror; you were a mess. your face was flushed, covered in streaks of dried tears as the new ones kept coming. your hair was a ruffled mess, you were drowning in your hoodie and fuck did your wrist burn.

“y/n/n?” you heard from afar, shit. surely logan was in your bedroom, waiting for you to come out of the bathroom.

you sighed, praying that your voice would be strong. “i’m in here, just a minute!” you called out, cursing yourself for your voice cracking at the last second.

immediately logan’s concern grew higher, slowly approaching the door and leaning his head against it. your nervous sobs were hard to miss, especially from right against the door.

“y/n,” logan called firmly, “open the door f’me please.”

your eyes widened, noticing how logan’s voice grew louder. it didn’t take you long to pick up on how close logan was to you.

“i can’t,” your voice cracked, you looked down at your hands that shook rapidly, afraid of what was to come.

logan’s brows furrowed, he’d had enough. you heard one of his claws retract as he picked the lock.

quickly, you took out your box, shoving your blade into it and throwing it god knows where into the drawer just before logan barged in.

“are you okay in here?” he asked, glancing down at your exposed wrist, covered in bandaids.

you followed his eyes, yours widening when you noticed you forgot to roll down your sleeve.

logan felt like he could physically feel the pit growing in his stomach, realizing what you had done. logan had never understood why you chose to hurt yourself like this. but he did understand what it was like to endure so much pressure and emotion that you don’t know how to contain it. and so he never screamed, or yelled, or frankly even asked ‘why?,’ because not everyone has a ‘why.’

your tears were flowing once more as you moved closer to logan, “i’m sorry,” you sobbed, burying yourself in his arms.

he immediately welcomed you, wrapping his strong

arms around your shoulders, rocking you back and forth in hopes to calm you down.

he looks down at you, his own eyes glossed over slightly, he hates seeing you like this, especially when he knows he can’t do anything about it.

soon logan loosens his grip, reaching gently for your left wrist and bringing it up to his lips, planting a soft and gentle kiss on one of your old scars.

“my baby,” he mutters, kissing another one while ensuring he leaves your fresh one alone, “my sweet baby.”

you can do nothing but sob harder. you’d expected numerous reactions out of logan but this definitely wasn’t one of them.

“i love you,” kiss. “i’ll always love you, doll.” kiss. “y’know that? i’ll never stop loving you.” kiss.

your eyes dart down as you feel a drop of water on your wrist as logan continues kissing up and down your arm.

he was crying.

his confidence wavers, “you’re beautiful,” kiss. “so, so beautiful,” his voice begins to crack as he leans a head down on your shoulder.

logan takes a deep breath before dropping your wrists and instead taking your face in his hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “you’re always gonna be beautiful t’me, alright? the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”

it was the first time you’d ever seen logan cry this hard, the hot tears pouring down his face at an unbelievable pace. you’d be a monster to say this didn’t make you tear up in the slightest.

you place your hands on his wrists, his hands still holding onto your face. slowly he leans in, closing the space between you two. kissing you in such a gentle, loving way that it makes your legs feel weak.

“i love you, logan.”

“you’re beautiful, peach.”

this is so sad☹️

taglist!!

@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod @seamlessepiphany @withafoll @lulawantmula @gigachadcowboy

[calypsocolada]

someone else bought you flowers... ft. nanami, gojo, toji, hakari, takuma, & higuruma

authors note: hi. this is just a lil something I wrote while on break at work. my birthday was last week and I wanted to write a lil something but got too busy. until now! pls enjoy. bye. ps: probably gonna write a second part for some of the other boys...

cw: suggestive, slight jealousy, fem reader

wc: 2.2k

click here for my masterlist

“Baby?” You hear Nanami’s voice from the kitchen, you lean back in your chair, spying down the hallway. When you spot him a smile spreads over your face. 

“Hi honey, you’re home early.” You say, pushing to your feet as you make your way towards him. He’s standing near the island in the middle of the kitchen, hand outstretched towards the bouquet of flowers you’d set there. “Thank you for the flowers by the way… what was the occasion?” You ask, outstretching your arms to give him a hug. Nanami pulls you into him, kissing the top of your head. 

“I didn’t send you these cheap flowers, honey.” He intones against the top of your head. You pull back, slightly surprised. 

“Hmm?”

“I know your favorite flowers. Those are practically weeds.” You laugh softly at his words, he’s still holding you gently.  He’s serious as he looks at the bundle of flowers with scrutiny. 

“So I have a secret admirer?” You ask as Nanami’s gaze sharpened. 

“It seems. But they don’t know you very well. Pity.”

“You’re a flower snob.” You tease as Nanami tightens his hold around your hips. 

“I just know my girl.” He kisses your cheek first, then your jaw and neck, he trails up to your lips, pausing before they meet. “And my girl deserves only the best quality flowers.” You scoff out a laugh and he shuts you up with a kiss. 

~

You flicked the card from the flowers, your coworkers gushing beside you as you blushed embarrassed. 

“Wow… he really went all out.” Your coworker beamed, leaning to smell the bouquet. You turned in your chair, popping open the card. 

You shine through my darkest days... Signed, your future. 

The card was sappy but the flowers were a nice thought. Satoru liked to embarrass you sometimes and even though you weren’t really a flower kind of girl you still appreciated him thinking of you. The elevator to your floor dinged and your coworker giggled, nudging you. 

“Here’s Mr. Romantic.” She teased as you turned and spotted him. He smirked at you, giving you a little wave. You gathered up your stuff as he met you halfway, taking your purse and lunch bag. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you two walked to the elevator. 

“Someone got you flowers?” He asked as you blushed, rolling your eyes. 

“Uh huh, someone…” you teased back. “My future apparently.” You said as you two stepped onto the elevator. 

“Your future?” Gojo echoed. 

“Who apparently shines through your darkest days?” You and Satoru met eyes before he reached out and plucked the card from the flowers. He looked over it for a second. 

“So my girl had a secret admirer?” He says, pocketing the card. 

“Oh? They’re not from you?”

“I know you don’t like flowers, baby.” He says as the door slides open and you two walk out. He was right, you were more of a sweets person. “You know for someone who’s your future they don’t know you very well.” He teases as you laugh. He holds out his hand for the flowers as you hand them off. He presents them to an older lady walking by who blushes and thanks him. 

“You pawned off my pretty flowers.” You teased as he took your hand. 

“Thanks because you need arm space for all the shit I’m about to buy you.” He winks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, pulling you towards the city.

~

You huffed coming through the door, arms full of at least fifty roses. You struggled until an arm jutted out, pushing your front door open for you. 

“You’re home early, baby.” Toji’s voice intoned, deep and smooth from just waking up. 

“There was a mix up with the shifts at work so I got to leave.” You say, watching Toji’s eyes stick to the roses in your arms. “This was sweet of you by the way. I didn’t get to read the card yet.”

“Don’t bother.” He said, eyes sharpening. “I didn’t send these.” 

“Oh?” You hum, setting the bundles of roses on the table as Toji plucks out the card, tearing it open. He reads it over and hikes up a brow. 

“This is some corny shit, baby.” He laughs, handing over the card for you to read.

Roses are red, violets are blue, the best part of my day is you. 

You audibly laughed. 

“Yeah if I had read the card I would’ve known you didn’t send these.” 

“These are expensive,” Toji says, plucking one of the petals from a rose. “Looks like some rich bastard has his eye on my girl.” There’s a glint in his eyes that had your stomach bottoming out. 

“How inconvenient.” You tease as Toji pushes the roses right off the table into the trash. Your lips part in surprise. 

“We can’t just-“ he’s swift with his movements, pulling you into him, large hands on your waist as he turns you to face him, bodies pushed together. 

“I’ll kill him.”

“It’s just roses.” You smirk as he sharpens his eyes. 

“You want some roses, I'll buy you thousands, not some schmuck from work.”

“Toji… are you jealous?”

“Hush.” He whispers against your lips before kissing them.

~

“Morning, you sleep well?” You push inside the front door, struggling between the bags and the flowers. Hakari glances up from his phone and sets it down on the coffee table. It was evident from the lingering scent of coffee and his disheveled appearance that he had just gotten up.

"Yeah, like a corpse," he replies, helping you with some of the bags. "What's with the flowers?"

“Oh?” You glance at the flowers. “I thought you sent them to me?”Hakari raised an eyebrow momentarily, taking a close look at the bouquet.

"Not from me, babe. You sure they ain't from some secret admirer?" He teases with a lighthearted smirk, plucking one of the flowers from the bunch and twirling it idly in his free hand.

“Well if they aren’t from you then they are from someone else.” You respond, walking towards the kitchen. Hakari follows closely behind you, setting the bags down on the countertop. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed, a curious smirk on his face as he watches you set up the flowers in a vase.

"So, who do you think sent 'em? Got any ideas?" 

You pluck out the card, flashing it to him. 

“I haven’t read it yet.” 

Hakari's smirk widens in anticipation as he looks at the card, intrigued. He lets out an exaggerated scoff, pretending to be unbothered.

"Well, don't just stand there. Read it already. See who's been sending you flowers like a sap." You pull it open, reading the card. 

“Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow, from your secret admirer.” You recite. Hakari lets out a genuine chuckle at the message, a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes. 

"That's pretty sappy, gotta hand it to 'em. Secret admirer, huh? Who do you think it could be?" He crosses his arms, feigning nonchalance, as he waits for your response.

“You don’t seem to be bothered with someone sending your girlfriend flowers?” You tease, tossing the card on the table. Hakari swipes it up, reading it again. Hakari chuckles once more, a smirk playing on his lips. He steps closer, closing the distance between the two of you.

"Nah, not really. I can't blame 'em for having good taste. And besides, I trust you." He reaches out, gently pulling you in by your hips, his smirk turning into a sly grin.

"But you still didn’t answer my question. Got any ideas who sent 'em?"

“I have no idea who it could be.” You tease, laughing softly “I have to say though, they did get my favorite flower. That’s nice attention to detail.” Hakari raises an eyebrow. 

"Oh really? Your favorite flower, huh? Must’ve gotten lucky." He steps a little closer, his hands still on your hips as he looks down at you, a playful smirk on his face. He leans in, speaking in a low, flirty tone. "I wonder, do I match up to this secret admirer?"

“Hmm… do you? When’s the last time you got me flowers?” You tease, his grip tightens just slightly. Hakari lets out a mock sigh of feigned annoyance, rolling his eyes jokingly.

"Alright, you caught me there. I can't remember the last time I got you flowers. But that ain’t the only way I can get your attention, you know.”He steps even closer, his hands slowly wandering lower as he gently pulls you flush against his body. His eyes locked on yours in a playful glance.

~

Takuma frowned at the sight of flowers in a vase on the counter. He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. He walked towards the bathroom, poking his head in where you were taking a shower. 

“Hey, baby?”

“Yeah?” You called out from the shower. 

“Someone got you flowers?” He asked as you turned off the water and blindly stuck your hand out for a towel. Takuma pushed further into the bathroom, handing you a towel. He waited a moment as you stepped out, wrapped yourself in a towel and wrung out your hair. Takuma leaned on the doorway, a pout on his face as you glanced over at him. You took in his pout and furrowed your brows. 

“A coworker got them for me...Not sure who though.” You said, reaching out and gently grabbing the hem of his shirt. 

“It’s not Chad is it?” He asks as you pull him to you. 

“It’s not Brad, and getting his name wrong won’t make him go away, ya know?” You tease as he smirks. 

“Oops.” Takuma shrugs. “So a secret admirer?”

“Uh huh. Did you read the card?” You ask as Takuma idly twists a strand of your hair with his index finger. He shakes his head. “Well apparently they like that I read while eating my lunch, they say it makes me look smart.” You fill him in as Takuma narrows his eyes. 

“You eat alone?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I like to eat in the courtyard.” 

“I’ll have lunch with you from now on.” He says as a smile fits to your lips at his obvious jealousy. “I don’t want some bozo thinking he can just write love poems and watch you from afar.” 

“Baby, are you jealous?” You tease. 

“Yes.” He says without hesitation making you giggle as you run a hand through his hair, tucking it out of his face. He leans into your touch. “You do know how hot you are right?” He asks, making you laugh. 

“Calm down, I brought the flowers home for my mom, she likes daisies. And I’d love lunch with you everyday, even if it’s so you can puff out your chest.”

“No... no puffing of chests is happening. I’m just going to have lunch with my insanely hot girlfriend everyday for the rest of time.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

~

You had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for Hiromi to get home. When he finally arrived late, he quietly stepped in through the front door, not wanting to wake you as you slept on the couch. There was an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers on the table by the couch that he glanced at before setting his things down and pulling off his jacket, loosening his tie. You stir awake on the couch, slowly sitting up as you yawn and stretch. 

“You’re home late.” You remarked as he made his way over to you, running a hand through his hair before he’s pulled down next to you. He chuckles warmly as you sidle up beside him, placing your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you.

“Did I wake you, love?”

“No… it’s alright.” You smile sleepily as he places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Waiting up for me?”

“Always.” You answer fondly. A small hum left his lips as he started to shower you with kisses, trailing down to your jaw and down to your neck. He held you close, grip tightening a bit. 

"You didn't have to, I told you to go to bed even if I came home late"

“Well I wanted to thank you for the flowers. What was the occasion?”

“Flowers? I didn’t send them love.” Hiromi points out, still pressing absentminded kisses to your jaw and neck. It was hard to focus on his words. “I’ll toss' em for you.” He intones, pulling you into his lap. 

“You’re not jealous are you?” You ask heatedly against his lips. 

“They’re cheap, baby, they'll be dead by the morning.” He states, pulling you closer by the hips. “And rightfully so.” 

“So you are jealous.” You tease feeling his grip tighten. 

“And if I was?” He asks, voice low and warm, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. You laugh as he peppers more kisses. 

“I’d say it looks good on you.”

[killerlookz]

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

[trulyhblue]

STARGIRL

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.

_______________________

Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.

The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.

“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”

“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.

The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.

It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.

Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.

Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.

Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.

“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.

The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.

“You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”

You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.

“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”

“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.

It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.

The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.

“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”

You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”

Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.

“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”

You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.

Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.

You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.

At least for you.

Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.

“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”

Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.

“I'm driving home.”

Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”

If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”

Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.

“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”

Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.

Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.

Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.

“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You first.”

“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”

You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.

“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.

Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.

“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.

She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.

Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.

“Wait, so, I don't remember-”

“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”

Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”

“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”

The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.

You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Give it here.”

It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.

“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.

“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”

You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.

After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.

“How are you feeling, Baby?”

Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.

You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”

Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”

Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”

“What is it, baby?”

You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.

You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”

It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.

“Looking so good tonight, darling…”

“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”

“So perfect for me, all to myself…”

In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.

You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.

“Feel so good, don't you?”

“Georgia, please.”

“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”

You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.

She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.

“Can we go, Gee?”

“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.

You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”

“Want me? But I'm right here.”

“Georgia, please. I need your help.”

That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.

She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.

You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.

“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”

You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.

You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.

“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. “Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”

“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”

“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”

You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”

Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.

You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.

“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”

You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.

The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.

You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.

Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.

“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”

You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.

“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”

You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.

“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.

“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.

“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”

You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.

“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”

In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.

But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.

That made it all click.

“Are you jealous?”

Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”

She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.

“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.

“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”

“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”

“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”

“Georgia…”

“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Fuck, please Gee.”

“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”

You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.

“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”

Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.

“Chelsea.”

“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”

That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.

“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”

“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”

The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.

You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.

“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.

“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”

She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.

“Gee, can you move?”

Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.

With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.

Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.

“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”

“Fuck, Georgia-”

“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”

You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.

“My pretty girl.”

You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.

You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.

“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”

“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”

You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”

“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.

Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.

_______________________

[apparentlytheproblem]

Theodore nott x Gryffindor fem! Reader fluff and soft smut she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost reading with her holding the book and Turing the pages while she keeps reading it and it’s super smutty (maybe the actors spin-off book abt nesta and cassian-) and she just traces his arm veins while they read (and if you decide to make it smutty pls make the reader LOVE LOVE LOVE his hands, abs, arm viens-)

a l l u r i n g

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- theodore nott

a/n: hullo, I have my midterm math exam on Monday so its all rushed and i barely have time to post but this has me screaming and crying all at once. i could not find any hardcore smut from a court of silver flames , I couldn't find any hardcore smut from court of silver flames, I'm so sorry abt that. the scene you're reading out loud is written by none other than @lustingbones, featuring Dick Grayson. I've written her fanfic in cursive so as to not get confused. she has single handedly created an obsession for nightwing in me. here's the link to the inspiration :) requests are forever open, luv, teddy

requested- yes

warnings- mf this is an advanced apology, i've never written smut. i've never even held someone's hand romantically, hell, i can't even keep eye contact, soft smut, fluffy, vulgar language, they both are minors, no protection is mentioned, it might make you uncomfortable, the reading of smut, the writing of smut

The sleeves of your black satin shirt had already fallen down your arms, the shirt itself was only being held up by two thin chains over your shoulder. it was basically as good as transparent, there wasn't a thing you couldn't see through it.

Theodore had leaned himself on his bedpost, his shirt was long gone. You were reading to him, your legs were on either side of his hips, your ass was cupped by his hand as he found utter joy in this situation. Your breasts were Infront of his face as he struggled not to get hard under you so quickly. Theo was never this grateful for being taller than you, he could just look down at you and get a perfect view. he wanted nothing more than to hold them in his hands and squeeze it or just rip the shirt off at this point.

"He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out."

your flingers grazed the hoops of his trousers, hooking them absentmindedly. sometimes they paused and was placed next to his hips.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-” a hitch in your voice. you could feel your pussy, but more than that, you could feel a lump in his pants.

"its so attractive when you say baby like that, but when i fuck you, its gonna be theo" he mumbled by leaning closer to your ear.

all you could do is nod as he signaled for you to continue.

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you."

Theo's eyes were fixated on you. the way your voice was wavering, the way you squeezed your thighs, how a blush crept to your face. he loved how you got so shy with the pregnancy kink. it made him wonder if she had one herself.

"you're into that? why read about it when i can give you the full experience in 6D?"

you tried to waver him off, this was the last thing you needed in this situation

" "All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good.."

you could feel your own pussy throbbing. If you were being honest to yourself, you were thinking about you and Theodore. your head keeps going to the idea of him saying this to you, doing this to you and feeling him so hard just got you more turned on.

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly."

your palm grazed his veiny arms, has he been working out? they've gotten so big..

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up."

from palms to fingernails, they slowly trail up his forearm and roamed around his chest.

"Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back."

you find yourself adjusting to place your pussy right above his cock. you could see his face trying to not to show any signs of satisfaction. that was all you needed.

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you." 

all he could concentrate about is trying not to break character. his eyes fixated on the elegant curve of your back beneath the clear fabric. her rough voice ran through his head in circles. he lifted an arm from his side, letting it play with the bottom buttons, almost only leaving one left. The only thing covering you up.

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence."

you ran your arms down his abs, he loved your not so secret fixation you had for them. but you loved it more.

"You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you."

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. "

“So, help me..”

Theodore was done. He gently picked the book from your hand and placed it on his nightstand. both his hands went under your thighs as to place you on the bed so he could tower over you, his chain dangling Infront of your eyes.

"hi handsome" you said peering up to him. you pulled his arm to examine it. his veins looked so hot, just absolutley lovley to have around you.

"hey beautiful"

you take his hand, a quiet smile made way too your face as you rest it on your breasts

Theodore felt your hands as it unzipped his trousers leaving him in boxers. your hand slid up and down his dick in slow strokes, just to drive him mad.

he takes her into my arms still kneeling, hitching your leg around his torso before pulling you as close as possible. The kisses you shared were soft, unbothered needy but never rushed.

[pinksugardollz]

Self Care Guide For Bad Mental Health Days

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ let yourself cry! feeling sad when you have bpd can feel like the world is ending, but it isn’t. feeling sad is normal, and it’s completely okay. don’t demonise your emotions. let it out

♡ cuddle with your pets! cats are absolutely amazing for this, dogs too. lil furry babies make me so happy and cheer me up so much when im feeling low

♡ take as many naps as you need without guilt. rest rest rest, even on your good days! stop overworking yourself

♡ shower, you don’t have to do your full routine, just make sure you wash yourself then apply your favourite lotion and sweet scented perfume

♡ cosy up and watch something that makes you happy. nostalgic tv shows are great, on my bad days i really love watching spongebob bratz or strawberry shortcake

♡ invest in a 2L water bottle and keep it by your bed for those low motivation days

♡ light your favourite bakery scented candle, sweet scents always uplift my mood

♡ do not isolate yourself, try to keep in contact with friends or family

♡ eat some chocolate or chips, whatever your favourite comfort food is. your happiness is more important than your diet

♡ if you’re struggling to get out of bed, try keeping everything you need on your bedside table so you can still do your skincare routines and take your daily vitamins from your bed

♡ run a nice relaxing bubble bath!!!

♡ put on some cosy pjs & grab a pink fluffy blanket and snuggle on the sofa instead of staying in bed all day

♡ set rules for yourself, write some things you that want to achieve in a day. such as keeping your skin moisturised, shower twice a day, drink enough water, getting out of bed. anything that applies to you. self care can become confusing and daunting, so write everything down to remind yourself to look after and cherish yourself

♡ make sure you’re eating enough. even if you’re not feeling hungry, if you don’t have the energy to cook, order takeout! it’s ok to eat takeout sometimes, just not all of the time as junk food can be highly addictive, and obviously isn’t very good for you

♡ try writing down your thoughts and feelings. i love journaling and covering the pages with pink stickers and making it look all pretty, it’s so therapeutic

♡ reach out to a mental health professional if things get too bad. this may feel hard, but if you need help desperately pls get it

♡ acknowledge that what you’re feeling is just temporary, whatever you’re feeling won’t last forever

♡ make sure you’re getting enough sleep. whenever i didn’t get enough sleep in the past, i would sometimes start seeing and hearing things, and would become very paranoid and disassociated, which is obviously not what anyone wants. so pls pls pls make sure you’re prioritising your sleep

♡ treat yourself, buy something pink and pretty just because you can

♡ take a day or 2 off work (if allowed)

tiny disclaimer: these tips may seem obvious to those of you without serious mental health problems, and they may be things you do everyday but when someone with mental health problems is in a really bad place, they can sometimes forget how to look after themselves properly, or in my case a few years ago i would just stop caring about myself. i love all of my pretty sugar dollies so much, look after yourselves and i really hope some of these tips help you 🎀🦢

[syluslnd]

hiii i love your posts so much <33

i’m such a big sylus fan and the fact that your whole blog is dedicated to him 😫💕

i was hoping you could do a request where sylus is with a reader with an eating disorder if possible?? she hates herself a lot and always compares herself with anyone prettier or skinner than her and wishes she was them. it also got to a point where she wishes she looked like sylus because even he has such a nice figure. she starves herself a lot and never feels enough, and is always crying or having mental breakdowns in secret because she’s so tired of looking the way she looks.

i just wanted to see how sylus would be with such a reader :))

sorry if the request is too much <3 please feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to :)

thank you 🫂

how sylus comforts you with an ED

note-I got another request almost identical to this one,was it by chance you? if so I’ll still write the other one ofc ! but if you’re struggling and feel like you need to talk to someone pls reach out to me🤍

────୨ৎ────

your gaze wandered to Sylus as he stood near the window, his tall frame highlighted against the fading evening glow.

You couldn’t help but notice how tiny his waist was, the subtle outline of his body so effortlessly lean. Even his thighs, despite being muscular, had a slight gap. How was it possible, you thought, that a man could be so effortlessly slender while you couldn’t stop obsessing over every little detail about yourself?

Your mind spiraled further—comparing his sharp, defined wrists to your own. The poisonous thoughts began sinking in again. Maybe if I ate less, I’d look more like that. It felt like a vicious loop you couldn’t escape.

The more you tried to shake it off, the deeper it clung to you. All you could think about was how you didn’t measure up, how your thighs pressed together when you sat, how no matter how much you starved, it was never enough.

The need to get away from these thoughts was suffocating, so you stood up, a little too quickly, the room spinning as your legs wobbled beneath you. You’d barely taken a few steps toward the bathroom when everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes, Sylus’s face hovered over yours, his expression tight with concern. You were lying on the floor, your body limp as if it had momentarily given up. His arms were around you, and there was a distinct edge in his voice, though it was wrapped in a blanket of worry.

“Kitten… What happened?” His hand gently brushed your hair back, but there was something different about him now—his usual cool exterior cracked by the sight of you fainting. “Are you alright? Talk to me.”

Your mouth felt dry, your body weak, the fog in your mind clouding everything. The room still felt like it was spinning, your limbs heavy, as if they weren’t your own. You tried to sit up, but Sylus’s hands held you steady.

“S-Sylus…” you murmured, your voice faint, barely a whisper. Shame and panic began to bubble up inside you. You could feel his eyes on you, full of questions, but how could you explain something so twisted, something so ingrained in your mind?

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice softer now but still pressing for answers. His thumb stroked your cheek gently, trying to comfort you, though the confusion in his gaze remained. “Why’d you faint?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the shame suddenly overwhelming. How could you even begin to explain it? How could you tell him that every time you looked at yourself, all you saw were flaws, that the poison of comparison had driven you to this point? But the words felt trapped inside you, tangled with fear and guilt.

You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I… I haven’t been eating much.” The confession felt like a weight falling from your chest but it still wasn’t enough to ease the storm inside you. “I just… I just want to be smaller. Like… you.”

Sylus’s brows furrowed, his confusion deepening. “Like me?” He glanced down at himself, as if struggling to connect the dots. “Kitten, I don’t understand. You’re… why would you want that?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. The shame of it all began to choke you, and the words stumbled out slowly, weakly. “You’re… thinner. Your waist, your… thighs. I look at you and see what I can’t have, what I can never be. Every time I eat, I just regret it, Sylus. I hate it. I hate how I look, and it’s—” your voice cracked as you looked away, unable to face him. “I don’t know how to stop. It feels like it’s consuming me.”

For a moment, Sylus said nothing. His grip tightened around you slightly, his jaw clenched as if he were processing your words. His eyes softened, though, as he reached for your hand, holding it in both of his.

“Sweetie…” He sighed, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t… I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were feeling like this.”

Your throat tightened again, the reality of your confession hitting you hard. You wanted to shrink away, to disappear but his touch grounded you, even if the silence between you was thick with unspoken questions.

“But why are you comparing yourself to me?” His voice was gentle, but there was a distinct edge of hurt behind it. “Kitten, you’re beautiful the way you are. You don’t have to look like me or anyone else.”

“I just want to be thinner…” you whispered, the shame of it bubbling over. “I see other people and they’re so much smaller and I—”

“Stop.” Sylus’s voice was firmer now, though his touch remained soft. “Kitten, stop.” He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re not your body. I didn’t fall in love with a waist size or how much space your thighs take up. I fell in love with you.” His eyes were piercing now, his voice more insistent. “I love your mind, your heart, your soul. Your body is just… one small part of you, sweetie. It doesn’t define you.”

You blinked, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as his words sunk in. Your mind had been so consumed by those poisonous thoughts that hearing him speak so bluntly, yet so gently, felt like a lifeline.

“But I—”

“Sweetie” he cut you off, his voice dropping lower. “I love you for who you are. Not what you look like. You’re not some doll I’m admiring from afar. You’re a person—a person I care about more than you realize.” He gave you a soft smile, brushing away your tears. “You could eat a whole damn bakery and it wouldn’t change a thing.”

A shaky laugh escaped your lips, more from the exhaustion of it all than anything else. Sylus smirked, a hint of that familiar teasing tone creeping in.

“See? There’s that smile I love.” He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, his chin resting on top of your head. “You’re not alone in this, sweetie. I’ll be here, okay? We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to carry this weight on your own.”

Nestled in his arms, you felt a flicker of something—a small glimmer of hope amidst the chaos in your mind. It wasn’t a solution but it was enough for now. Enough to know you weren’t facing this alone.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

  Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

 Chapter Word Count: 1762

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I'm Not Your F*cking Maid

Please read Prologue before starting.

Chapter 1

I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.

“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”

“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:

“Who the fuck are you?”

He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.

“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.

“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.

“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;

“Three very strong coffees please.”

Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”

“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“

“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.

They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.

“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”

“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”

“Bobby Singer.”

The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.

“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”

“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”

“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.

“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.

“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.

“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.

“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.

The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.

“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”

“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”

For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.

*

The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.

“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.

“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.

Although he had it coming.

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 2

[imthesilentwriter]

The Sleepovers

Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

Summary: You have sleepovers with Harry; however, you start to suspect something is up when you notice things either before, during, or after your sleepovers. That is, until you figure it out why you have them.

Warnings: mentions of blood and bruises (let me know if there is any more I need to add)

Authors Note: This is the longest oneshot I've written so far - it's also the first one in the "Pre-Hogwarts" section (how exciting). I would like to thank everyone for their support on my previous posts, it makes a world a difference to someone like me, who just loves to write. So, without further a due, enjoy this fic... excuse the 8 thousand words word count :)

Word Count: 8334

Navigation | Masterlist

You notice something is different when Lily comes to pick you up from your home, instead of your dads dropping you off at Harry’s. Maybe you’ve always noticed something, or maybe you’re just starting to pick up on it now.

Here you are, standing in front of your dad, Remus, who is lying on the couch, his arm draped over his eyes. You’ve seen him like this before, the way his body seems heavy, and his face is scrunched up with lines that make him look tired, but there’s something more today. A pain etched deep into his skin that makes your chest feel tight.

He huffs out a breath, a sound you recognize, one that only escapes him when he’s frustrated. It’s a sound you’ve heard more often when your sleepovers are planned. Your little four-year-old brain can’t quite wrap around why, but you know something is bothering him, something that always happens when you’re getting ready to stay over at Harry’s.

You keep standing there, watching him, as he stays curled on the couch. His breaths are heavy, and a small part of you, deep inside, screams at you to make it stop. You want to help him, to take away whatever is hurting him. But you can’t, and you know that. You’re not sure why, but you just know.

With soft footsteps, you step closer, standing near his head. You reach out a small hand and place it gently on his forearm, your fingers barely brushing his skin. “Dad?” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it cuts through the quiet.

Remus hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t move, so you pat his arm gently, trying again. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, he pulls his arm away from his eyes, revealing the soft, kind hazel eyes you know so well. But today, they’re different. He looks at you with love, but the pain is still there, sitting behind his gaze like something heavy he can’t put down.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m fine,” he says, his voice quiet and tender, but you see it – how the corners of his mouth don’t lift like they usually do, how his shoulders stay tense, even when he tries to smile.

You tilt your head, thinking carefully before speaking again. “You don’t look okay,” you say simply, and for a moment, his shoulders stiffen, like he’s been caught.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the front door. The sound pulls both of you out of the moment, and Remus glances toward the door. “Lily must be here,” he says, swinging his legs off the couch and sitting up.

But when he stands, a groan escapes him – low and quiet, but enough to make your heart hurt. He’s moving slowly, like each step takes more effort than usual.

He looks down at you as he struggles to straighten up. “You’ve got everything?” he asks, trying to sound casual as he walks to the door.

You nod, holding your little bag close to you. “Yes,” you say, “Daddy made sure everything was in my bag.”

Remus gives you a small, tired smile and opens the door. Lily stands there, smiling softly at both of you. “Hi, sweetheart,” she says, waving at you with her gentle, familiar warmth. Her eyes flicker to your father briefly, and you notice the way her smile falters, just for a second.

“Ready for another fun night with Harry?” Lily asks, kneeling down to meet your eyes, but there’s something in her voice, something you can’t quite place. It’s the same way she always talks to you, but today, it feels different. It feels like she’s trying to hide something.

“Yeah,” you say, though your mind is still on your dad. You glance back at him, watching as he leans against the doorframe, looking so tired, so worn.

Lily stands up and gives him a look, one that you don’t understand, but you know it’s important. “Take care of yourself, Remus,” she says quietly, and your dad just nods, his hand gripping the door a little tighter.

“Have a good time, sweetie,” he says to you, his voice softer now, like he’s trying to put everything into those few words.

You feel a lump in your throat as you give him a small wave. “Bye, Dad.”

Lily takes your hand as you walk away, but as you look back one last time, you see him standing there, still leaning against the door. And in that moment, your little heart knows something.

You might not understand it yet, but you know there’s something more. Something your dad is going through, something that makes him hurt, and somehow, you just wish you could fix it.

The second thing you notice, that makes you believe something is up, is when James, Harry’s dad, leaves for the night without taking any of his belongings.

You’re sitting on the living room carpet with Harry, carefully stacking brightly coloured wooden blocks into a tall tower. You hear the sound of pots clanging from the kitchen where Lily is cooking dinner, her humming mixing with the sizzling sounds of food.

The room feels warm and cozy, but something in your chest still feels off. You’ve been thinking about your dads all day, wondering why you’re still here instead of back home with them.

That’s when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. You look up just in time to see James entering the living room, fully dressed to go out. His coat is on, and his shoes are laced up tight, but there’s something odd about him –  he’s not carrying his usual things. No bag, no wand holster, nothing.

“Hey, kiddos,” James says, his voice a little lighter than usual as he kneels beside you and Harry. He ruffles Harry’s messy hair, earning a giggle, and then glances at you with a quick smile. “What are you two up to?”

Harry points to the tower, his green eyes wide with excitement. “We’re building a super tall tower, Dad! Look, it’s taller than me now!”

James chuckles, reaching out to steady the wobbling blocks. “Impressive, mate. Just don’t knock it over too soon, yeah?”

But you’re not paying much attention to the blocks anymore. You’re watching James, your eyes narrowing as you notice the way he glances toward the door, like he’s in a hurry to leave. Something about it feels… wrong.

“Where are you going?” you ask suddenly, looking up at him with curiosity.

James straightens up, looking a little surprised by your question. “Just out for a bit. Got some things to help your dads with.”

Harry tilts his head, his playful smile fading. “Are you going to work?” he asks, his voice small.

James shakes his head quickly. “Not tonight, buddy. Just helping them out.”

You frown, your chest tightening with confusion. “But… why didn’t you bring your things? You always take your bag when you leave.”

James gives you a soft smile, though there’s something behind it you can’t quite place –something that makes your stomach twist. “This time’s different,” he says, brushing a hand through his hair. “I won’t need them where I’m going.”

You don’t like that answer. It doesn’t make sense. “But… when are you coming back?”

James kneels down again, this time looking you directly in the eyes. His expression is softer now, but there’s something serious underneath. “Not for a little while,” he says quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Lily’s got everything under control, and we’ll see each other soon.”

You nod slowly, but the worry in your chest doesn’t go away. If everything is fine, why does it feel like James is leaving in a hurry? And why didn’t your dads come to get you?

Lily appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she says with a smile, though her eyes flicker briefly between you and James. “You heading out now?”

James stands, giving her a quick nod. “Yeah, should be back by morning.”

He ruffles Harry’s hair one last time and gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You two behave for Lily, okay? And don’t stay up too late.”

Harry grins up at him. “We won’t, Dad!”

But you stay quiet, still watching him carefully. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he glances at Lily, that makes you think they’re not telling you everything.

As James heads toward the door, you call out again, your voice small. “Are my dad’s, okay?”

James pauses at the door, his hand on the knob. For a second, you catch a look on his face – something like worry, but he quickly covers it with another smile. “They’re fine, kiddo. Just busy, like I said. Don’t worry, everything’s alright.”

And with that, he’s gone. The door clicks shut, leaving you sitting there with an uneasy feeling you can’t shake. Harry is already back to stacking blocks, his giggles filling the room, but you can’t stop thinking about James’s hurried exit – and why he didn’t take anything with him.

The third thing that makes you believe something is up when you’re told you’re staying an extra night. This isn’t normal. Sleepovers are supposed to be one night, and you’re confused. And, frankly, a little upset. You want to go home. You miss your dads, and you don’t understand why you can’t.

“No!” you shout, crossing your arms over your chest as Lily tries to guide you upstairs to get ready for bed. “I don’t want to! I want to go home!”

Lily kneels down in front of you, her eyes soft but tired. “Sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but you’re going to stay with us just one more night. You and Harry can have lots of fun tomorrow, okay?”

But you don’t feel like having fun. You feel angry, and a little scared, even though you don’t know why. You shake your head hard, your pigtails bouncing. “I don’t want to stay! I want Dad and Daddy!”

Behind you, James is struggling to get Harry into his pyjamas, Harry giggling and wiggling away like it’s a game. But you’re not laughing. Your eyes are stinging, and your throat feels tight.

Lily sighs and gently touches your shoulder. “It’s alright, love. Your dads will come pick you up tomorrow. They’re just busy tonight.”

Busy doing what? Busy without you? That makes you feel worse.

“No!” you shout again, your bottom lip trembling. “I don’t want to stay!”

You stomp your foot, the sound echoing through the hallway. James glances over, eyebrows raised. “Hey, it’s okay, kiddo,” he says, standing up after finally wrangling Harry into his pyjamas. “We’re going to have a cozy night, and then your dads will be here before you know it.”

But you don’t want a cozy night. You want your dads, and no matter what James or Lily say, it doesn’t make sense why you can’t just go home now. You can feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill.

Lily looks at James, and for a moment, you catch the look they share, something silent and serious. It makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t explain. It feels like they’re hiding something.

“I don’t want to stay,” you mumble again, your voice small now as the tears spill over.

James walks over to you, kneeling down until he’s eye level. His hands gently rest on your arms. “I know, kiddo. I know you miss your dads. But they’re gonna be here tomorrow. You’re safe with us, alright?”

You shake your head, a few sobs breaking free as you bury your face in your hands. “I want them now,” you cry, your small body trembling with the force of your tears.

James pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back soothingly. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re gonna see them soon. I promise.”

But it’s not enough. You cling to him, your tears wetting his shirt as you cry, still wanting your dads. You don’t understand why you can’t go home, why this sleepover isn’t like the others.

Lily watches for a moment, her face full of concern, before gently taking Harry’s hand. “Come on, Harry, let’s go brush your teeth, alright?” she says softly, guiding him toward the bathroom. Harry looks back at you, wide-eyed, as he lets Lily lead him away, but you’re too upset to notice.

James holds you a little longer, whispering gentle reassurances into your hair. “It’s okay to be upset,” he says softly. “But you’re gonna be alright. We’ll do something fun tomorrow, okay?”

You sniffle, wiping your face with your sleeve, but don’t answer. James pulls back slightly, looking at you with those kind, patient eyes. “How about we read a story before bed? That might help.”

You don’t answer right away, but after a moment, you nod, still feeling the ache of missing your dads but too tired to fight anymore.

Once you’re in Harry’s room, you sit on the bed, still sniffling and sulking while James helps you into your pyjamas. Harry comes bouncing back from the bathroom with Lily, looking much happier than you feel. Lily sits beside you, tucking you both in.

“Harry picked out a story for tonight,” Lily says, holding up a book with a picture of a forest on the cover.

You glance at the book but don’t say anything. Harry wiggles excitedly under the blankets. “It’s about a werewolf!” he announces, like it’s the most exciting thing ever.

Your eyes narrow, and you frown. “I don’t like werewolves,” you mutter, turning away, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Lily pauses for a second, glancing at you before opening the book. “Well, let’s give it a try. Maybe this one’s different,” she says gently.

She begins reading, her voice soft and soothing as she tells the story of a little boy who gets lost in the woods and meets a werewolf. But the werewolf isn’t scary – he’s sad, because he’s all alone, hiding from everyone because they think he’s a monster.

You shift a little, your frown deepening as you listen. Harry is listening intently, his big green eyes wide with curiosity.

“And then,” Lily continues, “the little boy realizes that the werewolf isn’t dangerous at all. He’s just a person, like everyone else. He just needs someone to understand him.”

You peek out from under the blanket, your brows furrowed. Something about the story makes you feel strange inside, like you’ve heard something like this before, but you don’t know where.

By the time Lily finishes the story, you’re quiet, staring down at the blanket in your lap. You don’t feel so angry anymore, but now there’s something else – something tugging at your chest, something you don’t quite understand.

“See?” Lily says softly, closing the book. “Not all werewolves are bad.”

Harry grins up at her, his thumb already in his mouth as he snuggles into the pillow. You, however, don’t smile. Instead, you look at Lily with a small, hesitant frown.

“Are… are there real werewolves?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lily hesitates, her hand still on the book, before nodding slowly. “Yes, there are. But just like in the story, not all of them are bad.”

You think about this as Lily kisses both of your foreheads and turns off the light. You’re not as upset now, but you’re not sure why. You feel like there’s something more you’re not being told.

The fourth thing that makes you suspicious is when, during one of your sleepovers at the Potters’, you can’t sleep. So, you sit on the couch, your small legs tucked underneath you as you stare out the window.

The house is quiet, everyone else already asleep, but the full moon is hanging heavy in the sky, casting a pale glow over the yard. It feels bigger tonight – brighter too – and you can’t take your eyes off it.

Your bunny is clutched tightly in your arms, and though you know you should be sleeping, you just…can’t.

The soft creak of footsteps pulls your attention away from the moon, and you glance toward the kitchen just as James walks in. He’s rubbing his eyes, his hair even messier than usual, and you can tell he’s still half-asleep. He fills up a glass of water, and as he turns, he notices you sitting there, wide awake.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says quietly, walking over to the couch. “What’re you doing up?”

You shrug, hugging your bunny closer, your eyes flicking back to the window. “I couldn’t sleep.”

James raises his eyebrows, glancing out the window as if to see what has you so distracted. He sits down next to you on the couch, his presence warm and comforting, and takes a sip of his water. “Staring at the moon, huh?”

You nod, your eyes fixed on the glowing orb outside. It’s strange how something so far away can feel so…close.

James watches you for a moment before asking, “Wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. There’s been something on your mind for a while now, something that doesn’t make sense, but you don’t know how to say it without sounding…weird.

“Why do I have sleepovers with Harry once a month?” you ask suddenly, your voice small.

James blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

“Every month,” you say softly, finally looking up at him. “Why do I always stay here once a month?”

James pauses, glancing at the moon again before turning his gaze back to you. “Oh, well, you know… It’s just something we started doing, right? You and Harry are best friends, and your dads sometimes need a break, so we figured why not make it a tradition?” He smiles, but there’s something in his eyes, something that feels like a lie.

You just nod, accepting his answer, but deep down, it doesn’t feel right. It’s not the truth, but you’re too tired to push any further. Instead, you hug your bunny a little tighter, staring back at the moon as it seems to glow even brighter.

James clears his throat, gently ruffling your hair. “How about we head back to bed, huh?”

“I’m not tired,” you mumble, shaking your head. Your eyes are heavy, but your mind is still wide awake, thoughts swirling too fast to let you rest.

James just nods, not pushing you. “That’s okay,” he says softly. “We can sit here a bit longer if you want.”

You don’t say anything, but the quiet is nice. The two of you sit there together, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock and the faint rustling of the leaves outside.

After a while, James speaks again, his voice gentle. “How about you come sleep with Lily and me tonight? You’ll get some rest with us, I’m sure.”

You hesitate, glancing up at him. “I don’t know…”

“Just for tonight,” he adds, his smile reassuring. “I think it might help.”

Reluctantly, you nod, and James sets his glass down, standing up and holding out a hand to you. You take it, letting him guide you toward the bedroom. As you follow him down the hall, you can’t help but glance back at the window, the full moon still hanging there, watching you.

You don’t understand everything yet, but one day you will. For now, though, you climb into bed between James and Lily, her arms wrapping around you as she murmurs something soft and soothing. And slowly, despite everything, you start to drift off, the warmth of their presence easing you into sleep.

The fifth thing you notice – that makes you generally terrified – are the fresh cuts and bruises on your dad’s back.

You didn’t mean to snoop, not at first. You were just wandering down the hall, minding your own business, when you heard quiet voices coming from your parents' room. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for you to hear bits of the conversation.

Normally, you’d keep walking – you know you’re not supposed to eavesdrop – but something about the low, serious tone of your dads’ voices makes you pause. It’s like they’re trying to keep their words quiet, like they don’t want you to hear.

And that’s exactly why you stop, holding your breath and creeping closer to the door.

From where you’re standing, you can just make out the edge of the room, your dad Remus sitting on the bed, his back turned toward the door. You’re about to step away when something catches your eye – something that freezes you in place.

His back… it’s covered in bleeding cuts and dark bruises. Some of the cuts are still fresh, red and angry, the blood just barely dried. The bruises are large and deep, spreading across his skin in painful purples and blues. You feel your stomach twist with fear and confusion. Why is your dad hurt? Where did he get those injuries?

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart pounds in your chest. You want to ask. You want to burst in and demand to know what happened, why your dad looks like this, but you don’t. You can’t. Something in the air feels fragile, like if you interrupt, the whole world will shatter.

So instead, you just watch.

“Hold still, Moony,” Sirius murmurs, his voice gentle but firm. He’s kneeling in front of Remus, carefully tending to the worst of the cuts. You can see the worry etched into his face, the way his hands shake just a little as he presses a cloth to the bleeding wounds. “This one’s deeper than last time…”

Last time?

Your eyes widen as you piece together what you’ve heard. This has happened before? But how? Why?

Remus winces as Sirius presses harder, and you see him close his eyes for a moment, jaw clenched in pain. “It’s fine, Pads,” he says softly, though his voice is strained. “Just… finish up. We don’t have much time before she gets back.”

Before you get back. They don’t know you’re already here.

You feel frozen in place, torn between rushing in to help and staying hidden. Questions race through your mind – how long has this been going on? Why didn’t you know? Why didn’t they tell you?

James said he was helping your dads. He said everything was fine, but how could it be fine if Remus looks like this?

You swallow hard, your throat tight with fear. Your mind can’t make sense of it. What could possibly hurt your dad this badly? You’re scared to know the answer, but you’re also scared of not knowing. The room feels too quiet, too heavy with secrets, and you feel like an intruder in your own house.

As you stand there, the fear mixes with guilt. You shouldn’t be watching this. You shouldn’t be here. But you can’t tear yourself away, no matter how badly you want to.

Sirius finishes bandaging Remus’s wounds, his face tight with frustration. “You can’t keep doing this, Remus,” he says, his voice quieter now, but sharp. “She’s going to notice. You know how observant she is.”

Remus sighs, his head hanging low. “I know. But what choice do I have?”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning you don’t understand. Sirius stands, his hands on his hips, shaking his head like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how.

You step back, heart racing, feeling like you’ve just witnessed something you were never meant to see. Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you back away from the door, heart pounding.

You didn’t understand what was happening, but it was enough to make your chest ache, and your throat tighten with fear and confusion. You shouldn’t have been listening. You shouldn’t have seen the cuts, the bruises.

You turn and walk quickly down the hall, your small feet padding softly against the wooden floor as you make your way to your bedroom. Tears are already spilling down your cheeks by the time you reach your bed, and you throw yourself onto the mattress, curling up into a ball as silent sobs shake your body.

You don’t want to cry. You don’t want to feel scared. But you do. And the tears keep coming, even though you press your face into the pillow, hoping to muffle the sounds. Why is Dad hurt? Why didn’t anyone tell you?

The questions keep swirling around in your head, but they have no answers. You’re left feeling lost, scared, and alone.

After a while, you hear a soft knock on your door, but you don’t move. You keep your face buried in the pillow, your body trembling with quiet sobs. The door creaks open, and you hear the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Princess? I’ve been looking for you,” comes Sirius’s gentle voice, soft but tinged with concern. You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is cry.

His footsteps stop near the bed, and you can feel him hesitating. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice closer now. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle, trying to stop the tears, but it’s no use. You don’t want him to see you like this, but you can’t hold it in any longer. You feel the mattress shift as he sits beside you, and his hand gently touches your back. “Hey, hey… it’s okay,” he murmurs, sounding worried now. “What’s going on?”

You don’t respond, just cry harder, your body shaking as you curl up tighter. Sirius’s heart seems to skip a beat, and he quickly scoops you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he stands. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he whispers, swaying gently as he holds you, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s alright, princess. You’re safe.”

You cling to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you bury your face against him. His arms are warm and strong, and he holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as he sways.

“Daddy…” you finally manage to whisper through your sobs, your voice small and broken.

“What, princess?” he asks gently, his chin resting on top of your head as he continues to rock you.

“I want Dada…” you sniffle, your tears still falling as you cling to him.

Sirius’s heart aches at the sound of your broken voice. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and murmurs, “Okay, love. Let’s go see him.”

He carries you out of your room and down the hall, your little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you continue to cry softly into his shoulder. He pushes open the door to the bedroom, where Remus is lying in bed, his face pale and tired, though he sits up a little when he sees you.

“She’s upset,” Sirius says quietly, looking over at Remus with worry in his eyes. “She wants you.”

Remus’s face softens, and he opens his arms as Sirius gently sets you down on the bed beside him. You crawl over to him without a word, wrapping yourself around his arm as if holding on to him will make the fear go away. His skin is warm and familiar, and despite the cuts and bruises you saw, he still feels like your dad.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Remus whispers, his voice gentle as he strokes your hair. “I’m here.”

You don’t say anything, but your sobs quiet as you nestle closer, your small body trembling less with each passing moment. You can feel Remus’s steady heartbeat under your cheek, the familiar rhythm calming you even though the fear still lingers.

Sirius sits on the edge of the bed, watching with concern, but you barely notice. All you want is to be close to your dad, to make sure he’s still here, still okay.

Eventually, your eyes grow heavy with exhaustion. The weight of everything – the fear, the confusion, the tears – finally pulls you into sleep. Your small fingers are still wrapped tightly around Remus’s arm as your breathing evens out, soft and steady.

Remus exchanges a quiet look with Sirius, his tired eyes full of gratitude and sorrow as he watches you sleep. He holds you a little closer, his hand resting protectively over yours.

“Sleep well, my love,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. And for now, with both your dads by your side, you do.

You’ve been acting strange. Everyone can see it, even if they don’t understand why.

It started off small – little changes that only your dads seemed to notice at first. You wanted to help Dad, Remus, with everything. Holding his hand when he walked, carrying things for him even though they were too heavy for your little arms. You were always there, hovering near him like you were scared he’d disappear if you didn’t keep him close.

But then, it got more intense.

You didn’t want to be held by Sirius anymore. Whenever he’d try to scoop you up, you’d shake your head and squirm away, making a beeline for Remus. Always Remus. You’d cling to his legs or lift your arms up toward him, begging to be carried. Even when Sirius tried to join in the bedtime routine, you’d edge away, making sure you were tucked into Remus’s side instead.

At night, you refused to sleep in your own bed. You’d crawl into your dads’ bed, nestling between them. But you always pressed yourself as close to Remus as possible, your tiny body clinging to him like a lifeline. No matter how much Sirius coaxed or joked, you wouldn’t budge.

It was confusing. They didn’t know what was going on – why you were suddenly so attached, so desperate to be near Remus all the time. They tried to ask, but you couldn’t find the words to explain. You couldn’t tell them about what you saw, the cuts and bruises on Remus, the ones he tried to hide but you had noticed.

Now, it’s another night, and you’re at the Potters’ house for your monthly sleepover with Harry. But things aren’t the same.

You’re in Remus’s arms when they arrive at the Potters’. You haven’t let go of him all evening, your small arms gripping his neck tightly, your face buried in his chest. Sirius stands nearby, looking concerned but trying to keep things light. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he says gently, stepping closer, “time to go with Lily.”

But the moment Remus moves to set you down, something inside you snaps. You cling tighter, shaking your head fiercely. “No! No, I don’t want to! Dada, please!”

Your voice comes out high-pitched and frantic, tears already filling your eyes. Remus freezes, exchanging a startled look with Sirius. You’ve never reacted like this before. “What’s wrong, baby?” Remus asks softly, pulling you back against his chest. His voice is gentle, but you can hear the worry in it.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you sob, shaking in his arms. “Please don’t go, Dada, please!”

Remus tries to soothe you, rubbing your back and murmuring soft reassurances, but you’re beyond comforting now. Sirius steps forward again, trying to coax you gently. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re safe here with Lily and Harry. We’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

But when Sirius reaches out to take you from Remus, you kick out, struggling against him with more strength than anyone expected. “No! No!” you scream, your tiny fists gripping Remus’s shirt, your cries turning into a desperate wail.

It takes both Sirius and James to gently pry you from Remus’s arms. You’re thrashing, kicking, your little face red with tears and frustration. “Dada, please!” you keep crying, over and over, like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

Remus’s heart shatters with every sob. He kneels in front of you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your face, but he knows there’s nothing more he can do. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers to you, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

But you don’t want promises. You want him. You continue to cry, your arms reaching out for him even as Lily finally steps in, wrapping you in a soothing embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispers softly. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be alright.”

Remus looks like he’s about to say something – maybe that he should stay behind – but Sirius shakes his head, his face filled with pain. “We don’t know what’s gotten into her,” he says apologetically to Lily. “This... this isn’t normal. We’re so sorry.”

Lily shakes her head, her tone calm and firm. “It’s alright, really. She’ll be okay. I’ve got this.”

Reluctantly, Remus lets Sirius and James pull him away, but he keeps looking back, his face pale, his eyes filled with sadness. You keep screaming, reaching for him as they finally leave, their figures disappearing into the night.

Once they’re gone, you collapse against Lily, sobbing into her shoulder. She holds you tightly, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, whispering soft words until your cries slowly start to quiet.

Even after you’ve calmed down, you refuse to leave her arms. Throughout the night, you cling to her like you did with Remus, not wanting to be put down, not even when it’s time to eat or play with Harry. Lily doesn’t force you. She keeps you close, holding you until you finally start to grow heavy in her arms, exhaustion from your earlier meltdown catching up with you.

Bedtime comes and goes. Thankfully, Lily managed to get you to sleep in Harry’s bed with him – though not without a bit of negotiation.

It started with you sitting cross-legged on the floor, arms crossed over your chest, your lower lip sticking out in a pout. “I’m not tired,” you muttered, glancing toward the window as if expecting your dads to come back any second.

Lily knelt in front of you, her voice soft and patient. “I know, sweetheart, but it’s late, and Harry’s already in bed. Don’t you want to keep him company?”

You shook your head, looking away. “I want Dada.”

Lily sighed, sitting back on her heels, thinking for a moment. “How about this? If you go to bed now, I’ll read you your favourite story. And tomorrow, we can make pancakes for breakfast. You love pancakes, right?”

You hesitated, eyes flicking toward Harry’s bed where he was already fast asleep. “...With chocolate chips?”

Lily smiled, sensing victory. “Of course, with chocolate chips.”

You uncrossed your arms slowly but still didn’t move. “What if I have a bad dream?”

Lily’s heart softened, and she reached out to gently touch your cheek. “If you have a bad dream, you can come right into my room, okay? I’ll leave the door open, so you can come get me anytime.”

That seemed to be enough. Reluctantly, you stood up, clutching your stuffed animal tightly to your chest. “Okay,” you said softly, your eyes still glancing toward the door, but this time you let Lily take your hand and lead you to Harry’s bed.

As she tucked you in beside him, you held onto her hand for a moment longer, your small voice barely above a whisper. “Promise you won’t leave me?”

Lily leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’m just in the next room.”

Satisfied, you finally settled into the covers, snuggling up next to Harry. Your eyes stayed on Lily as she pulled the blanket up over your shoulders, but when she smiled and whispered goodnight, you closed them, holding onto the comfort of her promise as sleep began to take over.

But it’s not long before, after Lily’s put you to sleep, that you wake up. Your small voice breaks the silence of the night. “Lily?” you whisper, standing in the doorway of her bedroom, clutching your bunny to your chest.

Lily sits up, blinking sleepily. “What is it, love? Did you have a bad dream?”

You nod, your lip quivering as you clutch your bunny tighter. “Can I sleep with you?”

Her heart softens instantly, and she lifts the covers without hesitation, inviting you in. “Of course, sweetheart. Come here.”

You crawl into bed beside her, snuggling into her warmth, and for a moment, everything feels okay. But as you settle down, you glance out the window and see the full moon hanging in the sky. It’s big and bright, and for a moment, you just stare at it, your small brow furrowing.

“Lily?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” she hums, brushing a strand of hair from your face as she watches you.

“Why is the moon so big?” Your question sounds innocent enough, but there’s something deeper in your tone – something Lily can’t quite put her finger on.

She glances out the window at the moon, its silver light casting shadows across the room. “That’s just how it looks when it’s full,” she explains gently, her hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod slowly, but the quiet lingers longer than usual. Lily thinks you’ve fallen asleep as your breathing starts to slow, the rustling of the blankets the only sound in the room. But then, in the stillness, your soft whisper catches her by surprise.

“I know about Dad.”

Her heart skips a beat, and she looks down at you, confusion and concern written all over her face. “What do you mean, sweetheart? What do you know?”

You hesitate for a moment, your small fingers twisting the fabric of your bunny’s ear. Then, in the same tiny voice, you whisper again, “I know he’s a werewolf.”

Lily’s breath catches, her heart aching for you. She sits up slightly, pulling you even closer, her arms wrapping around your small body. “Oh, sweetie,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Is that why you didn’t want to leave him tonight?”

You nod, your face pressing against her side, and your voice is muffled when you finally speak again. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Lily holds you tighter, her own heart breaking at how much you’ve been carrying inside. “Oh, love,” she whispers, her fingers gently stroking through your hair. “Your dad is very strong, and he has Sirius and James with him. They take care of each other, and they’ll always come home safe to you.”

You sniffle, your grip on your bunny loosening just a little as her words sink in. “But… I saw him. He had cuts and bruises.”

Lily’s heart squeezes painfully at your confession. She stays quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond. “I know it must be scary,” she says softly. “But your dad is always going to come home to you, no matter what.”

You look up at her, eyes wide and filled with worry. “Promise?”

Lily nods, her hand gently cupping your cheek. “I promise, sweetheart. Your dad loves you so much, and he’ll always be okay.”

You don’t say anything else, but after a few moments, you burrow closer into her, the tension slowly leaving your little body. Lily continues to hold you close, her heart aching for the weight of the secret you’ve been carrying.

Eventually, your breathing evens out, and Lily thinks you’ve fallen back asleep. But just as her eyes start to flutter shut, you whisper one last thing.

“Thank you, Lily.”

Her eyes well up with tears, but she swallows them down, pressing another kiss to your hair. “You’re welcome, love. Now get some rest, okay?”

And with that, you finally drift off, safe in Lily’s arms. The full moon outside continues to shine, but for now, you feel just a little bit more at peace.

When you wake up in the morning, Lily holds true to her promise – pancakes with chocolate chips! The smell fills the kitchen, and you sit on the bench, legs swinging as you watch her expertly flip each pancake in the skillet. The kitchen is warm, sunlight streaming through the windows, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Just as Lily finishes the last batch, the front door creaks open, and you turn your head to see James, Sirius, and Remus walk in. Your heart skips when you notice Sirius leading a kind of hurt-looking Remus toward the couch, his arm around him protectively. Remus looks tired, pale, and a bit wobbly on his feet.

“Morning, love,” James says as he steps into the kitchen, planting a kiss on Lily’s cheek. He flashes you a grin. “How’re my two favourite girls doing?”

“Good,” you reply quietly, but your eyes stay fixed on the living room, watching Sirius fuss over Remus, guiding him gently to sit on the couch.

You try to hop down from the bench, but it’s a little too high for you to manage on your own. Without a word, James notices and comes over, lifting you down with ease. “There you go, kiddo,” he says with a wink.

You don’t waste a second. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you run straight to your dad, Remus. He barely has time to brace himself before you fling your arms around him, giving him the biggest hug you can manage. “Dad!” you say, your voice muffled against his chest.

Remus lets out a soft laugh, though it’s a bit strained. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sit in his lap, clinging to him like you’re never letting go.

Sirius watches the two of you from the side, hands on his hips, and he lets out a dramatic sigh. “Where’s my hug, huh?” he jokes, feigning hurt.

You giggle, still snuggled in Remus’s lap. “You don’t need a hug, daddy, you’re fine,” you tease, glancing at him with a cheeky grin.

Sirius raises an eyebrow, stepping closer with a mock pout. “Fine? Me? Do I look fine? My heart’s breaking over here!”

Remus chuckles softly but says nothing, his hands gently brushing through your knotty hair.

You roll your eyes playfully at Sirius. “It’s just because… Dad’s special.”

Sirius snorts, eyes twinkling. “Special, huh? What, am I chopped liver? Come on, sweetheart, where’s my special?”

You giggle, glancing over at him, then say without thinking, “You don’t get one ‘cause you’re not a werewolf.”

The room falls into a sudden, heavy silence. All the adults freeze.

Sirius’s eyes go wide, his usual playful demeanour gone in an instant. “What?” he blurts out, looking between you and Lily, panic rising in his voice. “Who told her?”

Lily’s face pales as she stammers, “Sirius, she-”

“I figured it out,” you interrupt, your small voice cutting through the tension. “After last sleepover, when I came home, I saw Dada covered in lots of cuts and bruises.” You turn to Remus, your eyes wide and sincere. “I know you get hurt every time the moon is big.”

Remus’s arms tighten around you, his breath catching. He looks to the others, who are all standing there, unsure of what to say or do.

Sirius groans, running a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “Merlin, Moony, I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Remus says quietly, his voice thick. He looks down at you, his expression soft, though there’s a sadness in his eyes. “She’s smart. She figured it out.”

James and Lily exchange a look, both unsure of how to handle the moment, but neither says a word.

You feel Remus sigh under you, his chest rising and falling heavily. He kisses the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “You’re too clever for your own good, you know that?”

You just hug him tighter, as if holding on will keep him safe next time.

Remus’s arms remain around you, and he swallows hard before speaking, his voice soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken. “I didn’t want you to worry about me, sweetheart,” he says, his words quiet but careful. “I hoped… maybe we could keep this from you for a little longer.”

You look up at him, confused. “But I already know, Dad. I’m not scared,” you say, your voice small but sure. “I just… I don’t want you to be hurt anymore.”

Remus’s face tightens, his eyes brimming with an emotion he’s trying to hold back. He glances at Sirius, who looks just as tense, before turning back to you. “I know you don’t, love,” he murmurs. “And I wish… I wish I could promise that I wouldn’t be, but…”

Sirius cuts in, his tone unusually sharp with worry. “We should’ve been more careful. I should’ve been more careful.” He’s pacing again, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Merlin’s beard, Moony, she’s too young to have to worry about – about this.”

Remus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he watches Sirius pace. “It’s not your fault, Sirius,” he says, his voice steady but laced with weariness. “It’s no one’s fault.”

Sirius stops in his tracks, his jaw clenched. “But we should’ve been more careful. I should’ve been more careful.”

Remus shakes his head, looking down at you still sitting by his side. “She’s smart. We can’t hide everything from her forever.”

Sirius opens his mouth to argue, but Remus cuts him off, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s not your fault, Padfoot. She was going to figure it out eventually.” He gives a small, tired smile. “And I’d rather she hears it from us, in her own way, than find out some other way.”

You pull away from Remus’s chest just enough to look at Sirius, his usual playful smile nowhere in sight. “It’s okay, daddy,” you say quietly, trying to offer him a smile. “I just wanna help.”

Remus rubs your back gently, shaking his head. “You don’t need to help, sweetheart. It’s not your job to worry about me.” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “This… thing I go through every month, it’s hard, but I’ve been dealing with it for a long time. I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“I’m not,” you insist, your arms still clinging to him tightly. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Remus’s eyes soften further, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “I know, love. I know.”

From across the room, James speaks up, his voice gentler than before. “Kiddo, your dad is stronger than you realize. We’ve been with him for years through all of this, and we’ll always make sure he’s okay.” He exchanges a glance with Sirius, then adds, “And we’re going to keep you safe too, alright?”

You nod, but there’s still a weight in your chest. You glance back up at Remus, your mind racing. “But… why do I have to go to sleepovers every time the moon is big?”

The room goes quiet again, and you can sense the adults exchanging looks over your head. Remus shifts beneath you, clearly uncomfortable with your question. Sirius stops pacing, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s for your safety, love,” Remus says carefully, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “Sometimes, when the moon is full, it’s… it’s better if you’re not around, just in case.”

“Because you’re a werewolf,” you state simply.

Remus stiffens, his jaw tightening. “Yes. Because I’m a werewolf.”

You study his face for a long moment, then nod, though something still doesn’t quite sit right with you. “But you’re not scary.”

Sirius’s voice cracks a bit as he lets out a strained laugh. “Oh, trust me, kid. He’s scary.”

Remus shoots Sirius a look, but you’re already shaking your head. “No, he’s not. He’s just Dad.”

Remus’s expression softens even more, and for a moment, he looks like he’s fighting back tears. “You’re too good to me, love,” he whispers, holding you close again.

The tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly, the weight of the secret hanging between all of you, but now out in the open. After a moment, James claps his hands together, trying to break the silence. “Well, now that that’s all out in the open… how about those pancakes?”

Lily, who has been quiet this whole time, steps forward with a soft smile, clearly relieved for a distraction. “Right. Pancakes.”

But before you can move, Remus tightens his arms around you one last time. “I love you, my clever girl,” he whispers, and there’s a warmth in his voice that makes you feel safe, no matter what the moon does. “Always remember that.”

You smile, squeezing him tightly. “I love you too, Dad.”

Remus gently helps you down from his lap, and as you straighten up, Sirius grins, holding his arms out wide. “Alright, now that we’ve had all the emotional stuff, where’s my hug? I may not be a werewolf, but I’m still pretty special, you know.”

You laugh, feeling lighter as you run over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “Okay, daddy,” you say, making Sirius groan dramatically as if your hug is squeezing all the air out of him.

“See? That’s better,” Sirius says, ruffling your hair with a playful smile. “Don’t let dad hog all the hugs.”

Lily’s gentle voice cuts through the moment, her smile soft but relieved. “Pancakes are ready, everyone.”

As you all start heading toward the table, James claps his hands together. “I’ll go grab Harry. Can’t start breakfast without him,” he says, flashing a grin before heading upstairs.

You turn to Remus, still feeling the weight of everything that’s been said. “Are you okay, Dad?” you ask softly, peeking up at him.

Remus smiles down at you, brushing a hand through your hair. “I will be, sweetheart. Especially with you looking out for me.”

You nod, the warmth of being surrounded by the people you love filling your chest. Together, you sit down at the table, the heavy secret now shared, but the bond between you and your family feeling stronger than ever.

[revelboo]

Whenever u feel like it, pls grace us with more broken arrow!! :D

Broken Arrow Pt 7

TFP Megatron x Reader

• Scrolling through a report as he lounges on his berth, he hears the silvery sound of your chain sliding against metal from the corner you’ve chosen to sit in as far from him as you can get. The slight hardly unnoticed. “Come here. I can hear you,” he growls, glancing over at where you’re huddled in your blanket shivering. Too proud or too stubborn to just submit, to come to him willingly, so every night the two of you act out this little charade knowing the outcome. Sure enough your little chin lifts in defiance, that little act of disobedience stroking through him, spreading heat through his frame and thrumming in his spark.

• “I’m fine,” you growl. And you are. Fine and freezing. If the Nemesis hasn’t been this cold the day he’d first brought you here as a hostage to amuse himself with, you’d swear he kept it icy just to torment you into needing to seek him out because he knows you hate it. Hate that you’re so accustomed to the thrum of his spark and the heat of his frame at this point that you can’t sleep without it, that the stroke of those awful claws down your spine actually soothes you. Because nothing about any of that is right. Not the weird affection for him or the attachment. You shouldn’t have to remind yourself that he’s your enemy.

• Why does that sullen tone of yours go right through him? Make him want to punish you. Want to feel you in his servos, watch you struggle and then give in. “I didn’t ask,” he lifts a lip, showing off his sharp denta and enjoying the way you shiver for whole new reasons. His angry little pet will never admit it, but you enjoy this dance as much as he does. Normally. Right now the way your shivering isn’t sitting right with him. “And I don’t like repeating myself.”

• Inhaling to calm yourself since that tone allows for no arguing, you stand and walk closer, those glowing, red optics tracking you with predatory interest. A claw crooking when he decides you’re close enough. Not requesting, but demanding and you loop the end of your leash around that digit, and go up on your toes when he gently tugs. The gesture all about reminding you that he’s the one in charge, you’re the pet. Meant to make you angry, not heat your blood or stir your libido, because something is very wrong with you ever since you realized that even if he has your leash, you have his. Always reaching for you when something or someone has sent him into a rage, servos running over you until he calms or teasing you until your anger distracts him. Needing you, looking to you. Reaching out.

• “Much better,” he rumbles, wrapping his servos around you to lift you onto his chassis over his spark, pressing against your back until you lay down on him where he can feel your heartbeat against him, the warmth of you, because he needs those things now. Can’t recharge without them. A claw tip running through your hair as he watches you relax under his touch. Half heartedly miming biting him when he strokes your cheek and he bares his denta in a smile at you. Wondering about impossible things as heat and hunger spread through him.

Previous

Next

[piinksdoll]

→ [Victimology | Aaron Hotchner]

Pairing~ Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ fluff/angst/slightly suggestive

Word Count~ 2.3k

Warnings~ typical criminal minds gore, slight sa

a/n~ k so this part has slight sa and unwanted touching so if youre sensitive for that PLEASE DNI aldo MINORS DNI!!!! also this is not proofread so pls dont come for me!

part 1! part 2!

At the hotel

(Hotch’s Pov)

I watched her leave, a sudden sting of nervousness crawling up my spine. It wasn't like me to worry like this, to feel this unsettled, but something about the lack of her presence made it impossible to ignore. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to remain composed, but the gnawing concern wouldn’t relent. Every instinct I had was screaming that letting her out of my sight was a mistake, and I hated that I couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, something was different, something was wrong.

I rushed out of our shared room, heart beating twice as fast, to JJ and Emily’s. I knocked softly on the hotel room door, my hand trembling at the thought of anything happening to Y/n. “Hey Hotch, what's happening?” Emily opened the door, the sound of her voice distant as I tried to voice my concern. 

“Is Y/n here? She said she was coming to get something from you guys and it's been a while. I just wanted to check in.” The furrow of JJ’s brows made my heart sink. “Hotch, she's not here.” I shook my head, not wanting to believe their words.

“I'm going to get Morgan, Reid and Rossi. Hotch. We will find her.” I heard Emily’s voice reassure me but still I couldn't shake the feeling in my gut. 

At the Unsubs house

(Narrator Pov)

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to lift her head and make sense of her surroundings. Her legs felt weak, almost as if they might give out beneath her, but she pushed herself to stand, forcing her body to cooperate. She scanned the room, desperate for any clue that might tell her where she was.

(Y/n’s Pov)

I scanned the room in front of me, taking in the elegant details. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the marble dining table, the white kitchen. It was the kind of place that seemed untouchable, the last place you’d expect to find a killer. ‘How could someone who lives like this be capable of such things?’ I thought.

A voice broke my trance. “Finally awake, are we?” It came from down the hall, and I turned to see a tall man emerging from the shadows, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’ve waited far too long for this moment.”

My heart pounded as confusion washed over me. “What...what's going on? Who are you?”

He let out a quiet laugh, gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting mine. “Who I am isn’t important. But you… you are exactly who I’ve been waiting for.”

“No,” I stammered, squeezing my eyes shut, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. “No, I’m not. Why are you doing this? What did those other women ever do to you?”

He moved closer, sitting down on the couch across from me, his expression hardening. “Those women… they weren’t you. They didn’t understand, didn’t appreciate everything I was offering. They were defiant, ungrateful.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “But enough about them. This is about us now.”

He leaned forward, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. “You, though... I knew the moment I saw you that you were different,” he murmured, almost reverently. I took a step back, trying to maintain distance, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

“You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not who you think I am.”

His expression hardened, a flicker of anger crossing his eyes. “Don’t say that,” he snapped, voice low and dangerous. “You’re exactly who I’ve been waiting for. You just need to believe it.” He reached out as if to touch my face, and I flinched away, heart pounding in my ears.

“Please,” I tried again, desperate to find some semblance of reason in his eyes. “This isn’t love. It’s not real.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’ll understand soon enough.” He stood up, towering over me, I felt my breath catch. “But first, we need to make sure you don’t end up like the others.”

At the precinct

(Narrator POV)

The team all assembled at the precinct after discovering that Y/n’s missing. "Earlier, we asked Garcia to look into any males who recently went through a divorce, but what if we're looking at this the wrong way? What if, instead of a divorce, the unsub's wife or girlfriend passed away? It would explain a similar sense of loss but with an entirely different emotional catalyst." Aaron nodded at Spencer's words

“Alright Garcia, get me names of every male ages 25-35 who's recently had a death of a wife or girlfriend.” Aaron’s voice rang through the phone “Yes sir I've got a few. James Sterling lost his wife last mo- oh wait nevermind his wife was blonde.” 

Aaron let out a frustrated groan, raking a hand through his hair. “Hotch, don’t worry. We’ll find her,” Derek said, echoing Emily’s earlier reassurance. Just then, Penelope’s voice crackled through the phone. “I got a hit!”

The team snapped to attention, every ounce of their focus now on the speaker. A sudden wave of relief washed over Aaron, his shoulders dropping as the tension he’d been holding onto began to melt away.

“Alright Thomas Peters, a 27 year old male recently lost his fiance. They were together for 4 years. He proposed to her in Central park, they had their first date at the cafe in Greenwich Village, and she lived in Brooklyn.” Garcia rattled off, “Alright baby girl what's the address.” Derek cut her off “Yes, 5468 9th Avenue!” Penelope’s voice rang out with urgency, and just like that, the team sprang into action. Before they burst through the door, Rossi placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder, stopping him. “We’ll find her, Aaron,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And when we get her back, do me a favour, take your girl on a date. You both want to. Just do it.”

Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise, a brief moment of hesitation in his expression before he nodded, the weight of their situation still heavy on his shoulders. But there was a flicker of hope there, too, a glimpse of what could be if they succeeded. Rossi's words hung in the air, a promise and a challenge, pushing him forward with a renewed determination.

At the Unsubs house

(Y/n POV)

"You're so beautiful. The things I want to do to you," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted sense of desire. A shiver ran down my spine, every word making my skin crawl. I took a step back, but he matched it, inching closer with every retreat I made, trapping me in this terrifying dance. My back hit the wall, and I froze as he caged me in with his arms.

“No. Please don’t,” I squeaked out, my voice barely above a whisper, but he only smiled, an unsettling gleam in his eyes. His hand slid up my thigh, and I could feel the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric, my heart racing in pure panic. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear.

“Shh, don’t fight it. This is what you were meant for,” he whispered, and I felt a surge of desperation rise within me, every instinct screaming to push him away.

He took my wrists into one hand trapping them. I moved my face away avoiding his lips. I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks as I shook my head. Aaron please get here “Don't worry darling, you’ll learn to love it.”

I let out a scream, the sound tearing through the silence, but it was cut short by a sudden, searing pain. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted the sharp tang of copper on my tongue, warm blood filling my mouth. Dazed, I blinked through the tears stinging my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts, but the pain was all-consuming, grounding me in this horrifying reality. “You whore, I'm giving you everything and you're still an ungrateful bitch!” his voice ripped out in anger. 

(Narrator POV)

“Alright Prentiss, Reid sides of the house. Rossi, JJ back door. Me and Morgan will go in through the front.” Aaron felt his voice shake as they entered. Derek kicked down the door allowing the swat to head into the house first.

(Y/n POV)

Just as the last sliver of hope slipped away, I heard a loud crash and the front door burst open. "No!" Thomas roared, his grip tightening painfully around my hair as he yanked me up, forcing me to my feet. I gasped, the room spinning, but through the haze, I saw them, Aaron and Derek, weapons drawn, eyes wide with a mix of urgency and fear.

"Let her go," Aaron commanded, his voice steady but edged with a fury I’d never heard before. Derek took a cautious step forward, hands raised in a calming gesture.

“You don’t want to do this,” Derek said carefully, his eyes locked on Thomas. “It doesn’t have to end this way. Just let her go, and we can talk about this.”

I felt the cold press of a blade against my throat, and I stiffened, a small cry escaping me. “Don’t come any closer!” Thomas warned, his voice cracking. I could feel his entire body trembling behind me, the grip on the knife unsteady. “I’ll kill her! I swear I will!”

“Thomas, look at me,” Aaron said, his tone softer now, soothing yet commanding. “You don’t want to hurt her. She’s not her. You have a chance to stop this, right now.”

For a moment, I thought it might work. Thomas’s hand wavered, his breathing ragged, and I could feel the tension easing, just slightly. But then his grip tightened again, the knife digging in a little deeper, and I winced, feeling the sting of the blade bite into my skin.

“No!” he screamed, shaking his head violently. “No one else understands! No one else-”

The shot rang out before I even registered Aaron moving. One second, Thomas was there, holding me captive, and the next, his body jerked, the knife slipping from his grasp as he collapsed to the floor. I stood there, frozen, my knees buckling as I felt the warmth of Aaron’s arms wrapping around me, pulling me to safety.

“It’s over,” Aaron whispered, his voice steady even as I felt him shaking. “You’re safe now.” I glanced up at him “I was so scared Aaron. I'm sorry. I should've stayed in the hotel room.” I cried out. He shook his head as he brought me to the ambulance. “No, don't you dare apologise for what that monster did to you.” I sobbed on his shoulder.

On the jet home

(Narrator POV)

The team made their way onto the jet, Aaron helping Y/n every step of the way. He mulled over Dave’s previous words. Seeing her leaning on his shoulder, asleep beside him, her hair fell beautifully in front of her face. Her glossed lips parted softly as she let out soft breaths. Seeing her so peaceful made his heart swell with comfort. 

At Quantico

(Narrator POV) The team landed and without wasting any time, they made their way home leaving Aaron and Y/n alone at the office. 

“Hotch I can drive myself home, it's not a big deal.” Y/n tried to reassure Aaron, her tone light but persistent.

“No,” Aaron replied firmly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t care. I’m taking you home, and you’re taking the next week off.”

Y/N scoffed, a defiant smile tugging at her lips. “Hotch, are you serious? I need one day, two at most.”

Aaron shook his head, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. He took her hands in his, holding them with a care that made her heart skip a beat, as if any tighter grip would break her. He met her eyes, and for a moment, he was lost in the warm amber depths, his own expression softening.

“Y/N, please,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “The moment I realised you were missing, I felt the same helplessness I felt when Haley-” His voice broke at the mention of his late wife, and he closed his eyes for a second, trying to regain his composure.

“Aaron, you don’t have to,” Y/N interrupted, her voice gentle, her hands squeezing his, offering comfort even in her own fragile state.

“No, I- I want to.” He thickly swallowed, gaining his voice to speak once more “When I thought I lost you, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I didn't think I'd feel this way for anyone else in my life.” His confession hung in the air, raw and unguarded, and Y/N could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was silently pleading for her to understand.

A smile tugged at Y/N's lips, her heart swelling with every word. Aaron took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he continued, “Y/N, I love you. I know this is a lot, and I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but-”

She didn’t let him finish. In one quick move, Y/N reached up, pressing her lips to his, silencing his doubts with the kiss she’d been holding back for so long. For a moment, Aaron froze, stunned, but then he melted into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer, as if afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

The two pulled apart, both breathless, and Aaron’s eyes softened as he whispered, “Y/N, will you-” But she interrupted him again, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Yes, Aaron. Now shut up and let me kiss you.” Without giving him a chance to respond, she pulled him back in, capturing his lips with hers, feeling his smile against her mouth as he wrapped her up in his arms once more. 

As the two made their way home Aaron kept glancing over at Y/N, a soft smile tugging at his lips every time their eyes met, as if making sure she was still there, still real.

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