#it's just something i felt the need to express

[miedei]

terrible profilers

(aka the team meets early seasons!spence's not-so-secret girlfriend)

a/n: this came to me in my dream last night and i cannot get over it, pls send asks/requests and tell me what you thought!

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, the team is nosy, my niche personal headcanons of how i think spencer would text, probably more tech inaccuracies

wc: 3.5k

part one

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

The moment Spencer walks into the bullpen, he knows something’s up. Garcia never replied to the text he’d sent on Friday night, and he’d hoped she was just busy on their first weekend off in a while, but it’s clear there’s more. Clutching the strap of his satchel, he walks to his desk, observing the strange tension blanketing the room. For one, Hotch and Gideon are in the bullpen, standing in the corner speaking in hushed tones. Weird. They usually go to one of their offices to talk, and either way, they usually are stuck in their offices until lunchtime when they don’t have cases. Another thing. JJ and Penelope are standing around Elle’s desk, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but they’ve swivelled around to stare at Spencer like he’s an alien (which they do on occasion, but Spencer is pretty sure he hasn’t been strange yet. He just walked in!). Derek is sitting on Elle’s desk, leaning over to huddle with the three girls, but he’s frozen with his mouth open, like he just shut up for some reason.

“Uh… Good morning.” Spencer furrows his brows, but tries to shrug it off, more interested in the smell of coffee emanating from the kitchenette. Setting down his bag, he quickly busies himself with pouring his signature overly-sweet (according to you) coffee.

It’s like his movements snap a thread that has been holding his colleagues together, and they suddenly start bustling around the bullpen again. Derek sidles up beside him as he’s stirring in sugar, and Spencer braces himself for some Morgan-esque prod. But what he says has Spencer confused.

“Kid. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Ok, something is going on. Spencer has worked with Derek since he was 22, and they’ve fallen into a very comfortable dynamic ever since. But neither of them have ever felt the need to reassure the other of their closeness.

“What’s up, Morgan? No jabs today?”

Derek stiffens, like he’s been caught in a lie, and scrambles to reply.

“Well… We- Um, Garcia worried about you on Friday. What was up with you leaving so suddenly?”

Spencer has to bite back a smile, memories of you, coming to ‘O Keefe’s just to see him, flooding into his mind. But he answers as smoothly as possible, still turned away from Derek as he elaborates.

“Oh, I felt a bit sick. I think it’s going back and forth from the more arid parts of the country that did it. Did you know, travelling between warmer and colder climates makes you more susceptible to contracting viruses because it strains your immune and musculoskeletal systems, causing the feedback loop of homeostasis to-” Derek puts a hand on his arm, and Spencer quiets.

“Okay, okay, pretty boy, I get it.”

With that, he walks off, and Spencer is left at the kitchenette, stirring his coffee, confused. It’s not like it was a lie, he was feeling a bit nauseous in the bar, so you insisted that you go home. He recovered that same night over a cup of tea, Metropolis on the television, and you cuddled up on the couch next to him.

When he walks back to his desk, mug in hand, he calls out to JJ, still standing by Elle’s desk.

“JJ, no cases today? …JJ?” The blonde is looking at him, but his words seem to fly right over her head, until Elle pokes her shoulder.

“Oh! No, the cases I’m being called about are still pending, we’re probably not leaving on anything until tomorrow.” Spencer smiles softly, glad to have at least one more night sleeping at home this week. Because of his reverie, he doesn’t notice the way JJ, Penelope and Elle are staring at him, befuddled expressions on their faces.

The day continues to be a little weird, much to Spencer’s chagrin. Around 1pm, Gideon emerges from his office again. This, already, is out of the blue. Gideon only leaves his office an average of 3.78 times a day, mainly to go to Hotch’s office, or to go home. This time, however, Gideon marches to Spencer’s desk.

Gideon comes to a stop next to Spencer’s desk chair, and it’s all he can do to muster a blank face and look into his mentor’s eyes.

“Hey, Gideon. What’s… What’s going on?”

The older man sighs wearily, looking down his nose at Spencer, looking uncannily like Spencer’s highschool Calculus teacher when she got irritated at him for being a ‘13 year old know-it-all’.

“Reid. You weren’t sick on Friday, were you?” What is happening? Spencer doesn’t lie, he’s never told Gideon something untrue, so this is incredibly out of the blue.

“Huh? No, what’s wrong? I felt nauseous, which could’ve been a symptom for an inner ear problem, inflammatory bowel disease, gastroenteritis…” Spencer continues to rattle off a list of things he could have had, not noticing the uncharacteristically soft, paternal gaze that Gideon has trained on him.

“...and even a brain tumour, but it was probably because I drank more than I usually do. Why do you think that’s not true?” Spencer finishes his little speech, looking up at Gideon with a confused expression. There’s nothing else the older man can do but sigh, patting his shoulder softly.

“Okay, Reid. Glad you’re feeling better now.” With that, the experienced profiler walks away, not bothering to reply to Spencer’s continued questioning:

“Gideon! What’s wrong? Why are you-” Gideon’s office door slams shut.

Unfortunately, Spencer cannot ignore the rest of the signs, spending the rest of the day in a state of coiled anxiety. Something is going on, but he can’t get anyone to tell him.

Derek and Elle are constantly glancing over at him, unreadable expressions on their faces. Penelope keeps finding excuses to go to Spencer’s desk, and even if Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he’d be able to see the words bubbling up in her throat, but she never says anything.

JJ doesn’t come talk to him at all, which is strange. Instead, she shoots him knowing looks whenever she’s in the bullpen, sending Spencer into a spiral every time she doesn’t say anything about why they’re all acting weird.

He’s even caught Hotch and Gideon peeking through the blinds over their office windows to look at Spencer, with the analytical looks they get when they’re observing a crime scene on their faces. It’s driving Spencer crazy, and he has to tell someone.

You’re leaving your desk at the university when your phone buzzes.

SPENCE <3: Hi. I looked normal when I left the house, right?

Your brow furrows at the text. Normally Spencer isn’t a fan of texting while he’s at work, and you’d told him multiple times how handsome he looked when he left the apartment this morning. He’s wearing his striped white button down and the purple tie you bought him for his birthday last year, he looks pretty. And you made sure to tell him so.

YOU: hi <3

YOU: no spence you look pretty i told you this morning didnt i?

SPENCE <3: You did, thank you. Everyone’s acting weird at work, and I can’t think of what it could be.

YOU: maybe its something with a case?

SPENCE <3: They would tell me if it was that, right?

YOU: ur right

YOU: if you cant think of it with that big beautiful brain its probably something to do with them

There’s a solid minute of silence before he texts you back, and you grin to yourself as you walk through the halls. You can see the flush growing over his face in your mind’s eye, the way he does every time you pay him a cheesy compliment.

SPENCE <3: I guess so. They won’t tell me anything about it, which is strange.

You frown a little, imagining his frustration at being out of the loop. Spencer has expressed his love for his coworkers to you many times, but he’s also told you about his struggles feeling like the ‘baby’ of the office, and the way it makes him feel isolated at times. Racking your brain to think of a way to cheer him up, you check the time on your watch (the twin of which is settled on Spencer’s wrist).

YOU: its nearly 6

YOU: if i leave my building now i can make it to your office in 30mins

YOU: i can pick you up and we could get thai for dinner

YOU: ?

The reply is instantaneous, and you smile, looking forward to seeing him earlier than you’d expected today.

SPENCE <3: That sounds great. I’m finishing up here but text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll come down.

SPENCE <3: I need to go, I’ve been texting you from the bathroom.

SPENCE <3: See you soon :-)

The last half hour of Spencer’s workday flies by, unlike the way the clock had crawled previously. He finishes up the consults he was working on for the day, and begins packing up the moment the clock hits 18:27.

Derek and Elle are still sneaking glances at him, but Spencer couldn’t care less at this point. As he closes the flap of his satchel, his phone buzzes in his breast pocket. He can’t help but whip out his phone immediately, missing the bewildered looks that pass between his fellow profilers as he smiles down at the screen.

Y/N L/N: in the lobby now! i forgot how fancy it is here i feel underdressed

He doesn’t bother replying, instead opting to leave the bullpen through the glass doors, nodding at Derek and Elle, and pressing the elevator button immediately. He’s so engrossed in his thoughts as he stares at the closed doors, that he realises far too late what’s happening behind him.

He can hear the sounds of shuffling feet, a squeak of surprise (Penelope), hissed insult (Elle to Derek), and a firm clearing of a throat. Hotch. After sighing petulantly, Spencer turns on his heels to find the entire BAU team standing there, faces just as confusing as they’ve been all day.

“I’d ask you what’s wrong, but none of you gave me an answer the last 23 times I asked, so.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Hotch, of all people, says, “Reid, we need to… ask you something. About last Friday.” That’s strange. Spencer cocks his head in confusion.

“What about it? I already told Morgan and Gideon, I was feeling sick, but it turns out it was just that I’d just drank more than I was used to.”

Penelope looks like she’s about to burst, and finally, she blurts it out, voice slightly shrill. “Reid! Who is she?”

“Who is who?”

Derek butts in, a hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Kid, that girl. The girl you were… close to, on Friday. At the bar?” Oh. That’s what they’re talking about?

“That was Y/N. My girlfriend. Are you mad I didn’t introduce you guys? I thought you were all busy.”

Spencer sees six sets of jaws drop. There’s more silence, before JJ croaks out, “Girlfriend?”

It’s a bit of a sight, to be honest. Penelope has clutched on to Derek, and Derek on to Elle. JJ is gobsmacked, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even Hotch and Gideon look the most shocked Spencer has ever seen them. But why?

“Uh, yeah. She came to see me because we’d had plans before we decided to go out. Then when she found out I felt sick we went home.”

Gideon looks a little green, and when no one makes a sound, Hotch speaks, his normally stoic voice coming out a little shaky. “Reid, we didn't- We didn’t know you were seeing anybody.”

What? Now they’re being even weirder. Spencer can hear the elevator doors open behind him, but he doesn’t bother. This is something he has to get to the bottom of.

“How did you not know? I’m sure I’ve mentioned having plans with her multiple times. Elle, I told you about the time I went to the movies in New York with her, when we were on that case.” Elle looks more shocked, if that’s possible, but doesn’t say a word.

“Garcia, I asked you to help me find florists that have Gibraltar campions in Vegas that one time.” Penelope jolts, muttering under her breath about ‘idiot geniuses and their mothers’.

“Gideon, I asked you for advice on how to ask her out!” Gideon stiffens, remembering the time Spencer had asked him about his ex-wife. Was that Spencer asking for advice?

“I ran into you, JJ and Morgan, when I was with her, don’t you remember? She was in the aisle over” Derek distinctly remembers a time at the bookstore, they’d seen Spencer, but not noticed anyone with him. JJ shamefully recalls being too busy making fun of Spencer’s heart-studded tie to look around.

“Hotch, I told you about her! When I added her to my emergency contacts?” At this, Hotch pales. A year ago, Spencer had come to him with a request to change his 1st emergency contact from his mother to a Y/N L/N. How he never registered that this was a girlfriend, Hotch would never know, but he stares fixedly at his shoes as he contemplates quitting his job as a profiler.

Spencer looks at them, mystified. How did they not know? It’s not like he was ever hiding you! Of course, Spencer wanted to keep you to himself, so he didn’t talk about you that much, but they were profilers. He assumed they’d known, and just didn't want to embarrass him.

His phone buzzes twice, and he pulls it out to see another text from you.

Y/N L/N: spence are you coming

Y/N L/N: a guy in a suit is eyeing me weird he knows i dont belong come save me

A happy sigh leaves him, before he remembers the people standing in front of him, still gobsmacked. He scrubs a hand down his face wearily, and mutters slowly, as if he’s not sure if he wants to do this.

“She’s downstairs right now, we were going to take the metro home together. Do you… Do you guys want to meet her?” Penelope brightens up, and the rest of the team seem in higher spirits, despite their continued disappointment in themselves. Warily, Spencer opens the elevator door with a press of a button, and they all file in obediently.

“Please don’t be weird.”

“My good doctor, I would never!” He eyes Garcia with a fearful expression, but presses the ground floor button anyway. As the doors close, a strangled shout leaves JJ’s mouth.

“Wait, you live together?”

You are sitting on a bench inside the FBI Headquarters. No matter how many times you drop Spencer off or pick him up, this will always be surreal to you. And, right now, it’s not just surreal, it’s a little scary.

A real Danny Ocean type guy is sitting on a bench across the room, talking on the phone and eyeing you. Clearly, you don’t exactly look like an agent, you know that. Dressed in the uniform of a PhD student, jeans and an oversized Doctor Who t-shirt (Spencer’s), you know that you look out of place.

You’re just hoping Spencer walks out of the elevator before you get escorted out on suspicions that you’re a spy or something.

Like some deity has heard your words, you look up at the ding of the elevator to see Spencer… and a whole gaggle of people behind him, slapping at his shoulders and barraging him with questions. He looks harried, a line between his pretty eyes.

The line disappears, though, when he locks eyes with you. His eyes light up, and his steps grow in length, before he's left his entourage behind, at least for a couple of seconds.

He uses this time to explain to you: “Hi hello I'm so glad you're here and I need to tell you something-” As if on instinct, your hands come up to rest on his upper arms, thumbs moving in circles soothingly as he continues to ramble.

“-and well, they didn't know about you somehow? Which is crazy to me because you know I don't hide you so I don't know where they got that from but either way they were acting crazy, so I suggested they come meet you, and…” The group of people you now recognize to be the BAU have caught up to him, eyes darting between your face and Spencer's. His shoulders slump, and the agitated look returns, if a little less intense.

“Well, here they are.” He motions to the group behind him. “These are my coworkers, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenaway, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, and Derek Morgan. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Rising on your toes to see over his shoulder, you wave with a smile, eyes zeroing in on Penelope Garcia, who looks like she's vibrating from excitement, shouldering past Spencer to hold both of your hands.

“Hi! It's so good to meet you! I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but you know that's a lie, we didn't realize you existed until 10 minutes ago, but oh my god! You're here! You're so pretty- Spencer, she's so pretty!” She's practically bouncing up and down, causing Spencer to laugh sheepishly.

“Yeah, Garcia, I know that.” The next few minutes are a barrage of introductions and handshakes, all so brief that you can only get quick first impressions of them all.

Penelope is incredibly kind, not letting go of your hands until Spencer pries her off of you, telling you that you have to come out on girl's night with us, exactly like Spencer described her.

Elle is nearly intimidatingly cool, giving you a handshake and a smile, mentioning that she likes your eyeliner.

Aaron (Hotch? You're not sure how to refer to him) is nowhere near as stoic and intimidating as Spencer makes him out to be, breaking into a smile as he introduces himself, and grinning even wider when you congratulate him and his wife on their newborn child.

JJ is the sweetest. You've heard a lot about Spencer's best friend, and she lives up to expectations, squeezing you into a chaste hug with warm words.

Gideon is a little terrifying. He gives you a handshake, quirking the side of his lips in what you assume to be a smile, but saying very little beyond an introduction. You know how highly Spencer thinks of him, and hope he will warm up to you (Spencer is over the moon that he smiled, and tells you Gideon loved you later that night).

Derek is exactly how you expected him to be. Somehow, he makes you feel wholly comfortable after a single comment, and promises to regale you with all the Spencer stories you'd want (you see him punch Spencer in the arm, grinning and saying he approved).

Spencer pulls you away from them as quick as he can, citing your dinner plans as an excuse. He slings an arm around your waist, leading you out the door as you wave over your shoulder.

“It was great to meet you guys! We should go out to dinner or something!” You hear mixed shouts of agreement from behind you, before the doors shut and it's just you and Spencer, on the sidewalk outside the building.

It's butterfly-inducing, the way you can see the tension leave his shoulders when he turns to look down at you, brown eyes shining.

“I'm sorry that was so last-minute, I know they can be… a lot.” You giggle at the weariness in his tone, resting your forearms on his shoulders.

“They were really nice, Spence. I'm glad to finally meet them. They didn't know who I was?” He sighs, hands tightening slightly on your waist.

“I don't know what goes on with them half the time. I've told them things about you so many times, but they were just being dense, I suppose. They saw us on Friday, at ‘O Keefe’s, and they had no idea I was seeing someone!” He bends to rest his forehead in the crook of your neck with a sigh. As if on instinct, your hands come up to play with his hair.

“I guess they would have found it a little strange that you acted like nothing had changed, huh? Is that why they were being weird today?” He grumbles unintelligible words into your skin, before raising his head to look at you.

“I guess… You know I wasn't hiding you, right? I really thought they knew about you,” The earnestness on his face makes you want to implode, his thumbs rubbing minutely on your waist. Speaking would pop the bubble you've found yourselves in, so you find the best next option for you to show him your assertion.

Your hands roam up his neck to cup either side of his jaw, and slow, slow, slowly, you rise to your toes and kiss him.

Suddenly, Spencer's not worried anymore.

[vickymura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ you and your boyfriend decide to visit the sauna as a break from the winter, but something about you sweating makes him feel all hot for reasons other than the sauna.

GENRE ~ smut, sauna sex.

WORD COUNT ~ 2.270k

ᯓ★ can you tell i was listening to diet pepsi while writing this?

it was a short elevator ride and a few flights of stairs before the two of you reached the floor of the building where the new sauna was located. riki led you down the hallway and pushed open the door to the room, a warm and humid feeling instantly enveloping you both.

you cringed at the feeling of the humidity clinging against your fuzzy sweater and immediately pulled off the garment. now clad in just a black spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants, you neatly placed your sweater into a locker located near the room.

you cringed at the feeling of the humidity clinging against your fuzzy sweater and immediately pulled off the garment. now clad in just a black spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants, you neatly placed your sweater into a locker located near the room.

riki chuckled at your expression, his eyes scanning your body in that small tank top. he took off his own hoodie in response, leaving only a black undershirt on and stuffing the hoodie into the same locker. he reached out to take your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you over to the corner of the empty sauna.

he laid a towel on the floor and sat down on it, tugging on your hand and gesturing for you to sit down in between his legs. the damp air and heat in the room paired with riki’s warmth against your back was a nice break from the snow outside.

“as much as i love winter, i really needed this.” you commented and sighed happily, tying your hair up into a ponytail. 

he hummed back in agreement, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you even closer against him. he rested his chin on your shoulder, savoring the way you felt against him and the damp warmth of your skin against his bare forearms. "it feels good," he mumbled, his deep voice right against your ear.

you sighed again, closing your eyes in relaxation. the muscles in your body involuntarily relaxed due to the effects of your sauna, causing you to slouch against riki’s front, the back of your head falling on his shoulder.

that’s when he saw it. a bead of sweat falling from your forehead, travelling down the side of your face, over your jawline, down the curve of your neck, and eventually disappearing into your cleavage concealed by just a thin top. fuck. 

he swallowed thickly making his adam's apple bob. the sight was almost mesmerizing. unable to resist, his lips gently brushed against your ear before he leaned down and ran his tongue over the curve of your neck, the salty taste of your sweat making him shiver slightly. 

you gasped at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue right against your neck, your eyes snapping open wide. your legs instinctively tensing up, the insides of your tummy feeling all funny. “riki, what’re you-”

he chuckled lowly as your body squirmed against his at the feel of his tongue on your neck. he gently moved his hand up to grasp your chin, holding your head in place as he continued his path of wet kisses on your neck. "shh," he mumbled against your skin, his voice deep and rough before he gently nibbled on your earlobe.

“stop, someone can come in here..” you warned before things could escalate any further, afraid of causing any public indecency in case someone just walks in.

he let out a low huff against your ear, feeling a bit playful. your small protest against his actions only tempted him to do more, his lips continuing their trail down your neck, moving towards your shoulder. "let them see," he muttered quietly, shifting in his seat so he was pressed even tighter up against you, his growing bulge rubbing against your ass.

you let out a shaky exhale, unknowingly pressing your thighs together as a result of getting turned on by your replies and ministrations. though you squirmed in place in an attempt to get away and warned him to stop, you couldn’t help but further tilt your head as a subconscious need for his touch. “behave, riki..” you scolded, but only egged him on further.

he chuckled slightly at your attempt to scold him, the way you were starting to lose yourself in his touch not going unnoticed by him. your weak scolding fell on deaf ears as he licked his lips and nipped at the skin of your shoulder. his free hand was rubbing slow circles into your hip, the action both soothing and teasing at the same time.

he slowly pulled back, taking in your messy appearance with the marks he had left. he gently turned your head to face him, his smirk growing at the sight of your flushed face and slightly glazed over eyes.

“riki, don't... we can't...” you whispered breathlessly, though a certain look formed in your eyes which he’d learned to recognize as arousal by then.

he hummed in response, his hand that was on your chin cupping your cheek instead. your face was a sight to behold, already messy and flushed from his actions, your expression making it very clear that you wanted this just as much as him. he loved seeing you like this, losing yourself to his touch. "why not?" he questioned your prolonged protests with a hint of mockery in his voice, his thumb tracing your cheekbone affectionately.

your eyes widened in disbelief, as if the answer wasn’t obvious already. you remained silent for a few seconds, simply taking in the way there was a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face, his lips naturally plump and wet, long bangs sticking against his forehead, cheeks subtly flushed, and most importantly, the look in his eyes. god, his eyes. his dark intense orbs gazed into yours, almost daring you to defy his advances. but, you continued, a bit more dazed than before. “someone can just walk in...”

he chuckled again, his hand on your hip tightening slightly as he spoke in a low tone. "so? let them walk in." he leaned in, his lips gently scraping up the skin of your neck to your ear, his voice rough and deep as he continued "i want you, baby."

that's when your resolve crumbled completely. you let out a shaky exhale, hands flunging to cup his face and shove it closer to yours, pressing your lips against his in a needy, urgent kiss.

he groaned against your lips, feeling your soft palms cup his cheeks to pull his face closer to yours. he returned the kiss just as hungrily, one hand moving back to your hip and the other reaching back to tangle in your hair, the wet feeling of your mouths and tongues moving together in need turning him on like crazy.

he gently guided you to lay flat on your back on the towel covered floor, locating his knees on either side of your hips so that he was now hovering over you, the kiss not broken for even a second. he placed one hand at the side of your head, the other teasingly tracing up your body from your hips all the way to your chest, where he began groping your plush tits.

you whimpered into his mouth, your thighs bucking shut as you let go of his face to dig your fingers into his hair. he growled back in response, letting go of your tits to yank your thighs apart, situating himself between them. he resumed fondling your tits from over your skimpy top, now rocking his clothed hardness into you. 

as sticky as your skin felt from the dampness of your skin, there was a similar slick forming between your legs. you moaned into his mouth and arched your back into his touch, your earlier concerns now abandoned into a more urgent sense of need.

he was getting impatient, the friction of his throbbing, clothed cock rubbing up against your clothed heat making him want you even more. he broke the kiss to pull back slightly and began leaving a trail of quick, wet kisses down your neck to your chest, his hand squeezing your tit while he spoke gruffly between kisses. "baby... i want to be in you," he groaned against your neck, his voice making it clear that his mind was starting to go a little hazy from the hot room and your body.

you let out a soft exhale borderlining a moan as you threw your head back, your chest heaving so prettily. you whispered a barely audible “....okay.”, giving riki the green light to frantically let go of your chest to reach the waistband of your sweatpants.

he snuck his hand into your pants, cupping your pussy from over your panties. a gruff growl was elicited from his throat fanning right against your neck as his calloused fingers felt up the now drenched fabric. you whimpered and pressed your thighs together, essentially trapping riki’s hand between your legs. he pulled your panties to the side, rubbing his middle finger through your slick folds, earning a sinful mewl from your glossed lips. 

“fuck.” riki cursed under his breath, the feeling of your wetness and pretty sounds making his erection unbearably painful. he snuck his hand out of your pants and reached for his own. he sat up straight on his knees, straddling your hips. there was an almost hysteric darkness of lust in his eyes as he pulled his pants and boxers down in one motion, just enough to make his cock spring out and the layers to bunch up by his thighs. there were prominent veins popping out his shaft, his tip an angry red and a small bead of precum formed. he pumped his cock for a few seconds with his left hand, the other yanking down your sweats and panties from the front, just enough to expose your dripping entrance.

he shifted forward before you could even have a chance to process what was happening, and began rubbing his tip against your folds, throwing his head back and groaning in pleasure. you whimpered and clenched around nothing in sheer need to be filled, hands gripping onto his shoulders. 

he aligned himself to your pussy and let go of his cock to slowly slide into you, your greedy folds nearly sucking him in. he let out a low sound between a groan and a moan, placing both hands by your head to steady himself as you took him in. “riki..” you mewled his name causing him to bring one of his hands to cover your mouth.

“shh.. don’t wanna draw an attention, fuck- do you now, baby?” he curtly whispered, slowly beginning to fuck you in steady motions. you whimpered against the large palm of his hand and shook your head, your eyes feeling dizzy as you limited your loud sounds of pleasure to quiet ones. he buried his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his own sounds, whispering against it, “god, you’re so perfect, baby..” 

he thrusted his hardness deep into you, nearly going feral over the feeling of your velvety walls around him. you held onto the wrist of his hand over your mouth with one hand, the other holding onto his neck, your eyes growing half lidded as he fucked you.

there was still a small worry in your mind that despite not being nude, anyone could just walk in and catch you in an inappropriate act, but it only seemed to thrill you even more. your face and body began growing heated and sticky from sweat for more reasons than being in a sauna as you clenched around his length.

he hissed into your neck, thrusting faster and deeper into you. lewd, squelching sounds paired with skin against skin echoed in the room, his stimulation causing a coil to appear in your stomach. you whined and moaned quietly against his hand, your knees jerking up ever so often in pleasure.

“keep it down.” he reminded in a low, raggedy voice, earning your shaky response of, “riki, ngh- i can’t..” he growled, his thrusts increasing in pace as his high grew closer as he shoved the side of his hand into your mouth, making you bite down on it. your sounds grew considerably muffled and quiet, your teeth imprinting onto the palm and back of his hand.

“tell me you’re close..” he grunted, his thrusts growing irregular and sloppy as a result of his dangerously close orgasm. you could only clench around him and frantically nod your head in response, earning a groan of pleasure from him. he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and kept eye contact. he sharply exhaled and grunted, “you’re so good for me, baby.. i’m gonna..” and with a quiet curse, he slammed his cock deep into your pussy, feeling you with his warm seed. the feeling of his warm release filing you tipped you over your edge, and you simultaneously creamed around the end of his length, nearly trembling from pleasure.

he panted and and remained inside you for a few seconds, his eyes never leaving yours. he slowly pulled himself out, making you sigh both in pleasure and disappointment at the loss of his length. “fuuuck...” he groaned, taking in the sight of your cum mixed with his dripping down your tinged folds. 

he let go of your mouth, taking a hold of his cock and gently pushed the mixture of releases back into your hole, shakily exhaling at the overstimulating sensations on his tip. he slowly pulled your panties and pants back up, clothing himself to a state of decency too before leaning over to cup your face and capture your lips in a tender kiss. let’s just say there were a lot of things that remained sticky that evening. (this is my first time writing smut, pls don't judge lol. comment and reblog if you love riki 🙈)

[sirxlla]

Whispering dirty Christmas lines in the Batboys ears 🎄

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

Dick: "Are you a candy cane? Because I’d like to lick you up and down." You said to him through comms.

"Y/N, you know everyone can hear you on comms." Dick stiffled a laugh.

"Oh, shit! Are you serious?" Embarressment and worry filling your voice.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. I switched our comms to private." Dick said with major confidence.

"Yeah, you must've not done it right Dumbass cause we can hear you loud and clear." Jason teases as he states through comms. Making your heart fall into your stomach.

Dick, in his embarressment stays silent the rest of patrol, you do as well. He thinks back to the comment in his heart swells proud of you for being confident enough to try to flirt with him considering usually you are fairly quiet and turned into a stuttering mess whenever he would flirt with you.

Jason: He was sitting on the couch reading a book just chilling. Something sweet about Jason is how the both of you needed space from each other on occasion but always came back to bother each other to tell each other about something that the other thought was interesting or random other things. You snuck up behind him even though he a thousand percent knew you were there before you got even close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Is your name Father Christmas? Because you look like a daddy to me." Giggling a bit as you spoke, your lips brushing against his earlobe.

"Babygirl, I'll be whoever you want as long as it makes you happy." He said with a charming smile; Something so lovely about Jason was how he could say just about anything and make it sound like smooth talking. He pulled you over the couch after setting down his book on the coffe table, sliding you into his lap facing him.

Bruce: You were in the cave filling in for Barbara as Oracle because she was feeling extremely sick this evening and Bruce wanted to give you a spin. Of course you have been flirting with him all evening.

"I need help spelling Elf. I have an E and an L. Can you give me an F?" You spouted the random Christmas pickup lines you read online cause this is exactly what Bruce intended the Batcomputer to be used for.

"I'm sorry, what?" He stopped in the middle of what he was doing on patrol.

"Seriously you just now noticed? I've been flirting with you all evening." There was a humor to your voice as you asked him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" He asked with complete confusion and disbelief.

"Yes, I'm serious." An infectious laughs escaping your lips.

"Well at least youre having fun, Darling." He stated with a smile begging to reach his lips.

Tim: Everyone was sitting down for dinner as you passed him you whispered in his ear.

"Are you the Polar Express? Because I’d like to ride you." That's all it took for him to choke on his drink his face turning bright red. Of course you just returned your seat and acted like nothing had happened.

"What'd she say?" Dick teased Tim, noticing his younger brothers bright red face.

"I don't know but he is sure definitely gonna give Rudolph a run for his money." Jason teased as well.

"My face is not red, I don't know what you guys are talking about." Tim suttered as he lied through his teeth glancing at you. Obviously you had no choice but to look at him but you famed and innocent smile like you didn't just say that until his ear.

Damian: Considering how grumpy of a man he is you kind of knew what to expect when what you flirted with him in any sort of cringey cliche sort of way but that didn't stop you from trying and the joy you felt from his reaction so you walked into the training room.

"Do you believe in kissing someone under the mistletoe? Because mistletoe is what I named my sheets." You asked Damian with a shit eating grin.

"That's the best you could come up with?" He says with a bit of an annoyed tone as he approches you. There's a glint in your eye as you try to run off before you tackles you, a smile graces his thin lips, his smile sharp and cheeky.

"Oh no, I didn't say you could leave." he says in a rather happy tone, a tone he didn't let a lot of people see. He was very mushy on occasion and he could be extremely sweet.

Masterlist

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Heating pads

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: Your good time in Portimao being interrupted by your endo flare up again.

Warnings: endometriosis, cramps, love and care, infertility and baby talk

A/N: Wrote this last night and I poured into it some of my personal experience with endo, more this time. Surgery worked a little for me, it gave me a three months without cramps. Every body is different, every treatment works differently for us. But we’re in this together, endo sisters!

For @amberjazmyn 🧡

Don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

The weather at Portimao circuit wasn’t so pleasant as it was nearing the end of the year. F1 season was long gone and Max was able to finally avert his attention to his other hobbies (not gonna mention it’s still racing, but for his kinda own team).

Meeting with all the people around Verstappen.com Racing was a great one, especially with Thierry Vermeulen, because he was so funny, but humble at the same time.

You were always amazed how Max was so good at handling his many duties and hobbies at the same time. He was a great mentor, passing his legacy and wisdom and you watched how his temper calmed down a little through the years.

It wasn’t long ago when you moved to his apartment at Monaco, making your relationship more official after three years of being there and nowhere, between your job and his races. One day you decided enough is enough and you didn’t want to face your life alone anymore. That stirred some rumours through his fan base and also your parents weren’t able to hold back in their questions about you two starting a family. Truth was that you and Max weren’t exactly against having children, but the main problem was your endometriosis. Severe pain episodes, ending in ER may times, being neglected by doctors, saying it’s only in your head and that you need to sleep it off. You thought, for so many years, that you’re just insane, but after Max got through one of your endo flare ups with you, he got you through many doctor appointments, to the best specialists in the field, where you finally heard your diagnosis.

The surgery date was set after the new year’s, when Max would be still around to help you get back on your feet and mend your wounds with his love and care. But to that date your body just decided that you need to suffer.

You stood in the garage, watching how Max talked with the engineers and Thierry about some issues, his yapping always getting more and more interesting, when you felt a cramp in your lower back. It wasn’t unusual, you always had similar, and you brushed it off as some kind of back pain, most likely from standing for too long.

Watching Max racing at the empty track was always fun, he gave it his all, enjoying his time and it made you genuinely smile. But now you were pale, your forehead getting a little sweaty, same as your whole body. Feeling the need to sit down, you understood immediately, when the pain shot through your abdomen, pooling at your right side, that stretching burning sensation ghosting to your lower back. Trying to play it cool, you swallowed hard, smiling at everybody around.

About two hours later, Max was done with the testing, leaving the car to Thierry and he went to look through some performance reports, when he spotted you sitting at the bench, having that weird expression on your face like you were trying so hard to hide something, but failing miserably.

“Hey, love.. are you okay?”

His hand went to your cheek and you quickly shot him a look full of pain. He knew that look, seeing it more frequently in past weeks.

“Come here.” Without further words, he grabbed your hand and led you through the corridors to your car outside, where you had your things. Sitting you in the backseat, he quickly went to the trunk, rummaging through his bag, coming back after a while with some packages.

“Max, it’s okay, I can manage it.” You tried to protest but he dismissed you.

“Let me take care of you, I’m prepared.” Sitting beside you at the backseat, he opened both packages, shaking the contents a little with an approving hum. Heating pads. Your eyes went wide with surprise, but then your face softened, your eyes nearly welled with tears.

Warming his hands with the pads a little, he carefully lifted up your hoodie along with your top, to get to your bare abdomen, placing one pad under the waistband of your pants and the other at your lower back. You were always taken aback, how he remembered the location of your pains, where it hurts the most. After he was sure he placed pads securely, he pulled down your top and hoodie.

“Does it feel good?” Cupping your cheek, he had a concern written all over his face and you just nodded. With soft hum, he wrapped his hands around you, getting you closer to his chest, holding you tight against him, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Thank you, Maxie..” your sweet murmur made him smile, your hands hugging his warm and huge body like a teddy bear, the heating pads bringing you comfort you needed.

“Anything for you, my love.. I would go to the end of the world if it meant for you to be in less pain.” Max kissed your temple softly, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’ve done so much for me in this case, I don’t know how I deserved this.”

“You deserve the world, darling. And those pains.. I would do anything to take it on myself instead of you. I hate to see you contorted by it. Packing those heating pads it’s less than I can do for you, to make it easier.”

“You really changed my life, Max.”

“Oh, baby. You changed mine. A lot. I wasn’t this happy like I am beside you. I never forget that moment you smiled at me at that coffee shop in London, because you absolutely stole my breath.”

You chuckled softly, but the slight shot of pain made you wince a little.

“Can you please rub my back a little? It helps also..”

Max just nodded, sneaking his hand under your top, his warm hand rubbing the heat into your skin slowly and gently, making you relax more.

“You know, when we bought this car back then, I thought that it will be different action we’ll be doing on the backseat..” his voice was laced with teasing, trying to make you smile.

“Well.. I thought so too, but I can’t even imagine doing it right now.”

“No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re in discomfort and never in the right mind I would try to make a move on you like this.”

Max liked being intimate with you, your chemistry being something undeniable when you two got to bed, but he respected you and your body. He would rather not have sex with you for weeks than to cause you pain.

“I know, I know, sorry. But we can try after I’m healed from surgery. And there can be a little miracle after. Like we talked many times before. Little Verstappen tapping around.”

It was true happy smile he saw on your face in a while. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of having a baby with you.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, love. And whatever doesn’t cause you pain.”

His soft lips kissing your nose in the most lovely way was something only you could see. To the world he was that unbeatable lion on the track, dominating champion. But with you he was a caring, loving boyfriend, who would die for you in every way possible.

[trentsgirl]

pairing: jude bellingham x girlfriend!reader

synopsis: you’re a bit crazy when your boyfriend pisses you off.

notes: suuuper short, just something i came up with in like five minutes. srry for not updating, life is crazyy

playing: it’s okay, i’m okay by tate mcrae

masterlist.

“and then she goes, in the absolute nastiest tone, ‘well, you had plenty of time to do it,’ and i’m just sitting there like, what? you see what i mean? she’s so self-centered, she doesn’t even stop to think that people have lives outside of work!” you vented, your frustration spilling out as jude listened.

the two of you were sprawled out on the bed after a long day apart—him coming back from training, you from work. it had become your nightly routine, sharing the highs and lows of your day with each other. he lay back with his head resting on the pillow, while you propped yourself up on your elbow, turned toward him, still mid-rant about your impossibly annoying boss.

“how much time did you have?” jude asked casually.

“a week, but—”

“then she’s right. you did have plenty of time.”

his words hit you like a slap in the face. your eye twitched. was he… not taking your side? he was supposed to back you up! instead, it felt like he’d just shoved a metaphorical knife into your back and twisted it. how could he?

you sat up abruptly, glaring down at him with narrowed eyes. “she’s right?” you repeated, slow and deliberate, as if giving him a chance to backtrack. maybe you’d misheard. maybe the world wasn’t crumbling around you after all.

but no. jude nodded, sealing his fate.

“wow…” you muttered, your voice dripping with disbelief. “do you hate me?”

the abrupt question made jude’s brows knit together in confusion. “what? what are you talking about?” he asked, his tone baffled.

you shook your head, refusing to meet his eyes. “you hate me… my boyfriend hates me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, though loud enough for him to hear.

jude blinked at you like you’d lost your mind, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “are you serious right now?” he asked, staring at you like you were the most dramatic person alive.

“don’t talk to me,” you muttered, almost theatrically, as you slid off the bed. “i need some time alone… to process what just happened.”

jude watched you go, biting back a laugh. he knew this routine all too well—your flair for the dramatic, the way you needed to make a scene before inevitably calming down. shaking his head with a silent chuckle, he let you have your moment, fully expecting you’d be back soon enough, probably with an even more dramatic follow-up.

15 MINUTES LATER…

caption: i don’t want him anyway, girl take him 🖤

comments:

judebellingham: baby, as much as i don’t like telling you what to do, please take this down.

urbestfriend1: oh what did he do this time? 🙄

urbestfriend2: slay and girl power, but all that stuff aside, what the hell? 😭😭

jobebellingham: i always thought you were too good for him.

[sweetdispatch]

The card - Q. Hughes

6 days of kinkmas

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn and his girlfriend got into argument which led him to teach her manners

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), safeword, dom!quinn, oral (f and m receiving), dacryphilia, slapping, orgasm denial

words: 1.8k

note: final day of kinkmas is here! but i have a surprise for 24th👀

---

Quinn, as a captain, was organising a Christmas party for his team. He needed your help but you were giving him a cold shoulder. A day earlier you two got into an argument and you didn’t want to forget this without apologies from him. You felt offended by his words and how low he thinks about you. As much as you wanted to help him, you didn’t want to give him satisfaction. 

“All I’m saying is that it would be nice if you would tell me about this party at least a week earlier. Not day before” You sighed, trying to explain to him why you were mad.

“You don’t do anything so what’s the issue that I told you this now?” 

“What is this supposed to mean?” His comment made you furrow yours eyebrows. 

“You’re sitting at home the whole day doing nothing. It shouldn’t make a difference that I told you now” He shrugged and you looked at him, shocked at the words he just said to you. You left the living room and went to the bedroom. 

This was yesterday and the two of you haven’t spoken since then. You had nothing to tell him because Quinn is the wrong one. If he thinks that you’re doing nothing, that’s exactly what you decided to do. You saw that he was struggling with preparing meals and cleaning at the same time but you were too stubborn to help him. 

“Could you help me with the cake? You're a much better baker than I am” He asked you politely when he saw you getting water from the fridge, but you hadn’t responded. You went back to the bathroom to do your makeup and acted like you hadn't heard anything. 

Quinn was furious at you. He couldn’t understand why you’re acting this way. In his mind, he hadn’t said anything wrong and you were the one who’s making a big deal of your conversation. He decided to let it slip for now, but after the party, he knew he’ll teach you manners. 

The party was going smoothly. You two acted like a loving couple around his teammates while you hadn’t sorted out the argument. You were chatting with other girlfriends when Quinn was standing with the boys near the kitchen island. One of the girls went to grab a drink and interrupted his conversation. 

“You’re a dick Quinn” She said and the boys looked at her. “You’re a dick for telling Y/N that she’s not doing anything in the house”

“Excuse me?” Quinn was taken aback by her words.

“She told us about your argument. How could you say this to her when she’s making everything so you could have a better life” She answered him and left. She sat on the couch and Quinn felt humiliated. 

The boys were chirping at him about this situation and he got even more mad at you. He started thinking about his plan to punish you for what just happened. You were completely unaware of the fact that one of the girls confronted Quinn and enjoyed the party. He could see you laughing from afar but he knew that you won’t be laughing when the two of you will be home alone. 

The party ended around midnight. When you closed the door after the last guests left, you sighed. All you wanted was to take off your makeup and get changed into something more comfortable. You started going to the bathroom when you heard Quinn. 

“Living room. Now” His voice didn’t leave a space for argument. You followed into the room and saw his furious face expression. “You think it’s funny to tell everyone about our conversation? You think this was nice when one of the girls came and called me a dick in front of others?” 

You were shocked. Yes, you told other girls about your argument but you never thought that they would direct this to him. You didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, waiting for his next move. 

“I’m using the card today” You froze hearing it. You completely forgot that a couple months ago you gave him a “card” that meant that he can use you however he wants and do whatever he wants. “You’re under my control and have nothing to say unless it’s a safeword, which is…?” He asked you to be sure you remember. 

“Sunflower” 

“Good, now I want you naked in the bedroom. Hands on your sides and no touching” 

You were turned on by the idea because sex with Quinn was always insane and you were curious what he’s gonna do to you. You took off your dress and threw it on the ground. You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come into the room. You trusted Quinn with your life and you knew that he would never hurt you but something in his voice made you nervous. You’ve been so caught up with your thoughts that you haven’t heard when he entered the room. He was standing only in his underwear. His voice brought you back from your trance. 

“Knees” You listened to him and positioned yourself in front of him. He was caressing your hair and tucked them behind your ear. “We could have a nice night but you had to run with your mouth. I think we need to put it into better use now. You already said too much” 

In a quick move, Quinn took off his underwear and you saw his hard dick. By instinct, you grabbed his dick and started playing with his length. He wasn’t happy with this and pulled your hair roughly so you could face him. 

“I said mouth. Don’t you dare to disobey me because it will end up even worse for you” You nodded and opened your mouth letting him put his dick inside. 

Quinn’s moves were rough. He was pushing his cock into your mouth without any mercy. You were gagging around him but this didn’t stop him. It turned him even more. You could feel the tip of his dick hitting your throat. Tears were spilling from your eyes and he laughed at the sight. Before he could cum in your mouth, he took out his dick. 

“Lay in the bed. Legs wide open” You do what he told you to. He kneeled in front of your pussy and started eating you out. “So wet and I’ve barely done anything” He chuckled and returned to licking your clit. 

Quinn pulled his fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly. You felt incredible with his tongue on your clit. He could feel that you’re close to your orgasm but he stopped. You looked at him but he didn’t say anything. Only grabbed your hips and threw your body around. You were lying on your stomach when you heard.

“Ass up, face down” You positioned yourself and waited when you felt the first slap on your ass. You screamed by surprise not expecting this. “Next time you’ll want to act like a brat, remember how it feels” 

Quinn spanked you four more times. The pain became a pleasure for you and when the last spank laid, you moaned. He looked at your red ass for a couple seconds. He did this on purpose so you don’t know what he’s gonna do next. The next thing you felt was his dick deep buried inside of you. 

You were a mess under him. It felt so good when Quinn was fucking you roughly. You grabbed the sheet trying to find balance but with each thrust you were falling apart. It didn’t take him long enough to bring you close to your release. When he felt your muscles tightening around him, he pulled out. It was the second time when he didn’t let you cum.

“You’re not gonna cum until I say so” He stated and laid another spank on you. 

“Please Quinn, I need it” You begged him.

“Please Quinn, I need it” He mocked you. “You, my sweet girl don’t have anything to say” 

He thrusted into you again, this time you moaned loudly. He was keeping a hard pace and you went with your hand to touch yourself. Before you could do it, Quinn grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on your back. He did the same with your other hand. Now, you were totally at his mercy. Quinn was keeping your hands behind your back, still fucking into you. You were moaning and begging him to let you cum but he didn’t let you. Again, he pulled out of you and you cried. 

“I am gonna decide when you gonna cum, not you” He said not bothered by your tears.

Quinn threw you again and you were again on your back. He towered over you and thrusted into you again. You moaned but now, he shut you up with a kiss. It was the first time you tasted his lips today. His hand went to circulate your pussy and you started feeling overwhelmed. Other hand, I went to play with your boobs. This was all too much for you. All the touches, teasing and three denial orgasms. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sunflower” You said repeatedly, each time quieter from another.

Quinn took his dick out of you and panicked. He knew that he fucked up because you never used it before. He pulled you into a hug and started caressing your back. 

“Shh, you did so well. You’re safe” He was whispering into your ear and you started crying into his shoulder. It was breaking his heart knowing that he’s the reason you’re crying. “I’m so sorry baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel better” 

“Just hold me please” Your voice was breaking at each word. Quinn hugged you tighter and let you calm down. After a couple of minutes, you spoke again. “Can we take a bath and forget about it?” 

“Yes and no” You looked at him. His thumb wiped your tears. “We can take a bath but we have to talk about what happened. I need to know what exactly happened to push you to say this word. And don’t you even think that’s embarrassing. That’s why we have the word. To use it when it’s too much” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

Quinn raised you and went into a bathroom to prepare your bath so you could relax. He stayed by your side all the time, reassuming you that everything’s fine and you’re safe. You appreciated it that he didn’t leave you alone to deal with this but wanted to help you. When you were ready to leave, again he raised you and gently dressed you up in his shirt and laid you on bed. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now but tomorrow okay?” You nodded and Quinn pecked your lips. “Goodnight babe, I love you and I’m sorry for today… and yesterday” 

“Stop, we’ll talk about everything tomorrow, now let’s just sleep… I love you” You curled into his chest.

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — FEELS LIKE SUNSHINE ˚

꒰ synopsis : you’ve been having a tough time but kuroo is there to take care of you and remind you how loved you are. this fic is very indulgent so thank you for reading ❤︎ ꒱

꒰ contents : kuroo tetsuro x f!reader ; negative beginning but happy ending, hurt/comfort, non sexual nudity, use of pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, my girl) sappy at the end lol — WC : 1.8k ꒱

“Long day?” Kuroo asks, holding you close as you start to settle back home. The familiarity is swirling around you, yet you’ve never felt so out of place. You can’t even grace his question with an answer.

The world was muddled, gray. All of the colors around you felt muted and wilted away without the joy the sun brings. 

It wasn’t often you felt like this, but in light of recent events, it’s become your new normal. A blanket of barbed wire wrapped around your shoulders, never letting you rest or relax completely.

You could see the look on his face, the worry etching along his beautiful features twisting the knife in your stomach, nausea rising up your throat. The buildup of bile threatened to spill out and you were choking back the words you desperately wished to say.

Life had a nasty habit of floating out of your grasp, the good things slipping through your fingers and leaving you holding nothing but vacant space, wondering what happened.

It wasn’t that your life had lack of love or enjoyment, but today all of it felt miles away as you’re faced with your reflection — everything bad staring back at you that makes you want to shrivel up and hide away, covering the mirror up in hopes it was all an illusion.

Insecurity and self-doubt chip away at you, taunting you as false memories try to validate all your worst demons, all boiling down to one simple thing.

The absence of hope.

The loss of light that causes darkness to flood in, sticky and invasive, a parasite that latches onto your flesh and bones, tormenting your mind with its lies that only selfishly feed into its lifespan.

Breaking out of it can be a terrible thing. It can hurt like hell — feel like it too as you rip apart something that’s glommed onto your skin and drains you of all the goodness you still desperately tried to hold onto. 

But his touch helps bring you back. The gentle brush of his fingers along your cheek refocuses all of your thoughts — attention landing right back onto him.

“That bad, huh?” Kuroo gives a small smile, one that plants a seed of hope back into your body. The little joy he carries on his face as he looks at you warms and nurtures it, the feeling beginning to bloom and blossom into a rebirth. “Aw, come here, sweetheart.”

The hug he gives you grounds you, pushing all the spiraling pieces of your mind back together, his love consuming you as his arms wrap around your body. 

“Just been a little rough lately.” You mumble, cheek resting against his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat a calming beacon of hope. After the agony of sailing alone in the dark for so long, your lighthouse stands tall, looking for you at every mile.

“I know.” He kisses the top of your head, giving you an extra squeeze. “But I've got you.”

“You don’t have to.” Self-sabotage floods your veins, your hands already trying to push against him, your body pulling away as you’d do anything to keep him from barring the weight you carried on your shoulders.

Kuroo lets you get some space, but you still feel his light touch you. The soft expression he had, the way his fingers twitched with need, already itching to have you back in his arms.

“I want to.” Not an ounce of hesitation wavered in his voice and you blink back a tear, desperately trying to hold your ground.

You wanted to give in so, so badly. But the thought of having anyone feel an ounce of what you felt scared the shit out of you. A last-ditch effort to protect them from you and all the hurt you held.

“I don't want to burden you.” The confession is but a whisper, secretly hoping that he didn’t hear you. But he does, he always takes it in and understands you even when your voice shakes.

“You couldn’t burden me even if you tried.” The fondness in his promise almost scared you, your walls screaming to be put back up. But you knew it was a lost cause, he was nothing if not persistent.

“But-“

“And even if you could,” he pauses, smoothing his palms over your cheeks and down your shoulders, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead, speaking his next words against your skull as if your brain would be forced to take them in. “Then please, please burden me.”

“What—“ He cuts you off before you can try to doubt his plea.

“I’ve chosen, committed to loving you. All of you, no matter what. We’re a team, remember? So, burden me.” The fiery intensity in his amber eyes shows you there’s not an ounce of doubt, no hesitation to what he just admitted. It tugs at your heart in all the right ways.

His forehead leans against yours, gazing down at you with all the love and care in the world that it makes you feel silly for ever doubting it. The lingering feelings remain, something deep down inside of you that wants to come out.

“Tetsu, I don't even know where to start.” your voice is still small, vulnerability creeping up on you, pressing down on your back as you fall deeper into his embrace. 

“Then why don’t we get a little more comfortable?” Kuroo asks, innocently enough. “Pouring out your heart out in the front foyer doesn’t seem ideal now does it?”

“No.” You shake your head, a hint of a smile lining your lips. The slight twitch fills Kuroo's heart with hope. He gently takes your hand, leading you further into your shared apartment. 

He’s quiet for a moment and you wonder if he’s feeling the weight you carry on your shoulders through the mere act of holding hands. Before you can slip through his fingers, he holds on tighter, tugging you forward so he can wrap his arm around your shoulder instead.

“What do you say, beautiful? Take a bath, order some takeout, and maybe tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His other hand reaches up, gently booping you on your forehead, followed by the tip of your nose. 

“Yeah.” The light begins to seep back into your soul the more you melt into his side, tucked away from the ugly thoughts that were invading your space these past few days. 

To say you were lucky was an understatement. To have someone who’s willing to sit with you for as long as it takes until you muster up the courage to speak about your troubles is more than you could ever ask for.

The patience and care that exudes from the man beside you is almost infectious. Love pours from every word and every action he commits, flooding the walls of your heart until you have no choice but to open the doors and let him fully consume you. It only makes it easier knowing that he’s held the key all along.

“Get in there.” Kuroo smirks, jerking his head to the drawn bath, a waft of lavender filling your nose – the kind he knew you always loved. It crinkles your nose just right, scrunching it up in a blissful state that catches the sparkle of Kuroo’s bright eyes. Everything looked beautiful and your heart has never felt so warm, so cherished.

One of your favorite things about this apartment was the bathroom, as silly as it sounds. The high rise you lived in left big windows in every room, this one being no exception. The city lights shone beyond, letting you gaze out into the world when it didn’t have the opportunity to look back.

It’s amazing how one moment you can feel so down in the depths of despair but looking out at the window from this height serves as a reminder of how far up from the bottom you are. The progress you’ve made doesn’t become exempt the moment things start getting tough again, it’s merely another test that aims to show you how far you’ve truly come.

As you crawl into the warm water of the tub, letting the bubbles soak away your worries and sing you melodies of relaxation, Kuroo goes the extra mile. Because of course he does. There were a few candles you kept in the linen closet for nights when you two wanted to have a romantic bath. He lights them anyway, adding to the cozy ambience, and your heart soars at the thoughtful gesture.

“Are you planning on joining me?” You ask, eyes on him, watching him scurry around the small space to make things perfect. His head whips around to you, gaze softening once again before something mischievous swims his golden irises. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Kuroo quickly takes off his clothes, not giving you nearly enough time to admire his toned body before he slipped in behind you, sturdy arms holding you flush against him. “There, now we’re all nice and cozy.”

“Thank you, Tetsu.” You sigh a breath of relief that had been trapped somewhere deep within, locked away with a key that had been thought to be lost. Leaning back against his shoulder, you realize how much you needed this — him.

His syrupy sweet lips brush against your head like the sun kissing the horizon as it rises once again. It fills you with warmth, support, gratitude. Everything wonderful in this world birthed from a simple kiss that held all the love you needed. 

“You can always lean on me, I won’t ever let you fall.” Kuroo’s voice is softer than usual, a tone reserved for you and these tender moments when you need a little extra gentleness. The tender, reassuring words cradle around your ear and hold your heart steady as his arms loop around you, securing you in place. “I promise.”

You know your thanks will fall on deaf ears, that this simple task he’s doing for you is no sweat off his back. The only thing he craves to hear from you is your acceptance, your willingness to let him in so you can tackle everything together like the power couple you were meant to be.

“Okay.” You whisper out into the soft-lit room, letting the atmosphere of love and bubbles consume you, melting away your troubles like the wax that drips from the candles. “I will.”

“That’s my girl.” Without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling. A proud grin he notoriously wears like his finest suit whenever he finally achieves his goals. The one he knew he’d sport in only a matter of time after he broke down your stubborn walls once again. 

Tender hands rub along your arms, his lips brushing along your head as he hums to the tune that never fails to make you smile right back. The song you would often sing to each other in the sweet moments in your life whether it be slow dancing in the kitchen as dinner cooks, or moments like these where you’re tucked away from the rest of the world to be reminded just how much your souls are tied together.

thank you for being here + thank you for reading ❤︎

[aeralux]

"Freak On a Leash" - Aemond Targaryen

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: So what if you're fucking the weird dude? He has good dick game. But how were you supposed to know he gets attached easily?

Warnings: SMUT (18+); (pretty rough) car sex; oral (f!receiving); name calling (slut, whore etc); dark!Aemond near the end; hair pulling; choking; ass slapping; mentions of violence and blood

Words: 5.5k

Notes: No description of the reader. This was just going to be porn without a plot... but ofc I had to add some plot smh. This isn't dark dark, but it does contain some of the elements of it so... do not read it if you are not comfortable with that

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

He was weird, unsettling, and genuinely offputting. That's why your friends were baffled to know that you were fucking him multiple times a week, in the backseat of his car, no less. "He has good dick," you tried to tell them, saying it was worth it. But your words fell on deaf ears as none of them understood. Why him?

With long hair dyed black with a cheap store colour and a run-down 2005 Volvo S40, he didn't seem the kind of guy who could fuck a girl until her throat was raw. But you knew the truth. That's why you kept coming back, time after time.

So it was no surprise that, once again, you found yourself in his lap. In the backseat of his car, kissing and moaning, his hard cock pressing into your aching core.

"Blood?" You ask as you taste copper on your tongue when kissing his jaw. 

"Don't act like you don't find that hot," he grunted, a smug expression on his face. It's probably because whoever he fought, lost.

You smiled playfully, your lips brushing against his once more, caught in a moment where admitting he was right felt like submitting. The warmth between you grew, leaving just the two of you.

He tangled his fingers in your hair for a second before shifting his attention downward, fumbling with the delicate fabric of your flimsy top. The skin-tight shirt clung to your curves, resisting his attempts as if it had a will of its own. Frustration flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by determination as he continued to work his way around the stubborn material.

"Just rip it open for fuck's sake," you groan as he fumbles with your skin-tight white top. Your hips instinctively roll on top of his, ruining your cute white cotton panties with your juices.

Aemond groans deeply at your words. With a quick, decisive motion, he rips the fabric open, the sound of the tear deafening. Your black lacy bra is revealed, the delicate lace a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands as they cup your breasts.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin lace. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

He leans in, his hot mouth latching onto one nipple through the bra as his other hand slides down to rub your clit through your soaked panties. He groans against your skin at the wetness he finds there, the sound vibrating through you.

Oh gods, you are so fucking wet for him. You can feel your arousal soaking through the thin cotton, staining it with your desperation. You grind harder against the rigid bulge straining against his jeans, needing more friction, and more contact.

"So fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to delve between your folds. "Gonna make you come so hard."

You roll your hips harder against Aemond's bulge, your clit throbbing with every grind. Your skirt hangs loosely around your waist, resembling more of a belt.

"Fuck, these songs suck ass," you grumbled, reaching for Aemond's phone and scrolling through his playlists until you find something more to your liking. The change in music elicits a growl from Aemond, but you just smirk and lean in close, your lips brushing his jaw. The bass line of Rob Zombie's "Dragula" thumps through the car, a perfect complement to the nasty thoughts running through your mind.

"Okay, now you can fuck me," you giggle, your teeth grazing his skin before you soothe the sting with your tongue. You can taste the salt of his sweat, the copper tang of blood - a reminder of the fight he must have been in. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

"Who the fuck did you fight this time?" You ask, your voice low and husky with desire. But even as you speak, your focus is on the delicious friction between your legs, the way Aemond's hard length rubs against your aching core with every roll of your hips.

"Fucking some new guy, thought he could take me," Aemond growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds up against you. "Taught him a lesson real quick."

He leans in, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he speaks. "He won't be coming back anytime soon. Not after the way I shattered his ribs." His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder onto his cock.

"Now, quit talking and start begging for it," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear. He places a few light smacks on your cheek, making you smile at the lewd actions.

You shake your head, a wide smile spreading across your face as your eyes lose focus. The depravity of the situation, the dingy car, the smell of sweat and sex, it all makes you even wetter. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"You know I don't beg," you whisper, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you suck on it gently. Your teeth graze the sensitive skin, making him groan.

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. He sounds almost angry as he growls, "You'd better fucking start, or I'll stop right here."

"Fuck," you whimper as his bulge nudges against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your brows furrow, your eyes squeezed shut as you grind down harder, seeking more of that delicious friction.

To emphasize his point, he stills his hips, denying you the friction you crave. His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Please, Aemond," you moan, your voice breaking with need. "Fuck me. Use me. Make me forget everything but your cock inside me."

Aemond's eyes darken with lust at your words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "That's more like it," he purrs, his grip on your throat relaxing just slightly. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his free hand moving down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulls you down hard, grinding his clothed cock against your aching cunt.

"Gonna make you scream for me," he growls, his other hand moving from your throat to tangle in your hair. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his teeth grazing your skin.

His hips are moving now, grinding up against you in a filthy rhythm. The rough denim of his jeans rubs against your sensitive clit. You can feel the heat of him through the fabric, the hard length of his cock straining against his zipper.

You moan sluttily, desperate, shameless noises filling his car. You're too far gone to care about your pride. Impatiently, you tug the cups of your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air. They're almost painfully sensitive, aching to be sucked.

"Suck," you command, your voice low and demanding. You arch your back, offering your breasts to him like a sacrificial lamb.

Aemond's eyes darken at your demand, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you think you're in charge here, do you?" he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

You gasp at the sharp pain, your eyes watering. "I think you need to be put in your place, slut," he sneers, his other hand roughly palming your breast.

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed nipple. "Beg for it," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, your pride fading due to your desperate need. "Please," you whimper, your voice small and needy. "Suck my tits, I need it so bad."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your nipple. "That's more like it," he growls before his mouth envelops the sensitive bud.

You cry out, your back arching as he suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you moan, your hand moving to the back of his head, trying to push him closer. But he pulls away, shaking his head.

"Hands off," he commands, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

You whimper, your hand falling away. "Sorry," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with shame.

Aemond just smirks, his hand moving to your other breast, roughly squeezing the soft flesh. "Good girl," he purrs, before diving back in, his mouth hot and wet on your aching nipple.

You moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growls against your skin, his hand moving to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations make you cry out, your back arching as you press yourself further into his touch.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh. You whimper at the loss, your body craving more of his touch. "That's better," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You know your place."

Aemond's hand moves from your hair to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless?"

Your heart races, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Aemond's hand tightens around your throat. The lack of oxygen only adds to the haze of lust clouding your mind. You nod frantically, your eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's lips curve into a wicked grin against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Fuck, you're so desperate for it, aren't you?" he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

He grinds up against you, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your aching clit. The friction is delicious, but not nearly enough. You need more. You need him inside you, stretching you, filling you.

"Yes, fuck yes, I'm desperate for it," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me, Aemond. I love it when you use me."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hair instead. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his teeth grazing your skin. "Gonna make you scream for me."

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans. He yanks your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with lust, filled with the depravity to come.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promises, his hand moving from your hair to grip your throat again. He squeezes, cutting off your air supply just for a moment before releasing.

You gasp, your lungs burning for oxygen. But even then you still smile at him, biting your lip.

Aemond's eyes darken at the sight, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your ass hard enough to bruise. "A sight for sore eyes," he smirks, looking into your glossy eyes.

"Shit, I need to eat you out first," he groans, his jeans pressing down painfully on his throbbing cock.

He slides off the seat, kneeling between your legs as he slides your panties to the side impatiently. The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, making his cock throb with need. The cool air hits your aching cunt, making you shiver.

"Fuck, you smell incredible," he growls, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at your clit, making you cry out.

He groans at the taste of you, his tongue delving deeper, licking through your folds and fucking into your entrance. He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue moving in and out, his lips sucking on your clit.

His fingers delving between your folds. He brings them up to your lips, pressing them against your mouth. "Taste how fucking desperate you are for me."

You open your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal explodes on your tongue, musky and sweet. You moan around his fingers, your tongue licking and sucking, cleaning them of your juices.

Aemond's eyes darken with lust as he watches you suck his fingers clean, your tongue swirling around the digits. He growls low in his throat, his free hand moving to grip your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this," he growls, his fingers popping out of your mouth.

He gets back up, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

He grabs your hair, forcing your head back and making you look up at him. His eyes are dark with lust, his jaw clenched as he battles for control.

"Strip," he commands, his voice low and dangerous. "I want you fucking naked, now."

You scramble to obey, yanking your bra off, your breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and aching for his touch. Your miniskirt and panties are next, puddled on the floor of the car, leaving you bare and exposed.

"Shit, you look so good," Aemond growls, his eyes raking over your naked form. "I almost don't even want to ruin you... almost"

He flips you on your hands and knees, pushing your head down, forcing your ass in the air, holes completely exposed to him. He yanks you forward, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Brace yourself, slut," he growls, grinding his clothed cock against your bare pussy. "Gonna fucking wreck you." 

You crane your neck to look back at Aemond, a scoff leaving your lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," you mock, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

His eyes darken at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh, I'll take more than just a picture, baby," he promises, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack.

You gasp at the sting, your pussy clenching in anticipation. "Promises, promises," you taunt, wiggling your ass invitingly. "You talk a big game, but I bet you can't even get it half hard."

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. "Fuck, you're so goddamn cocky," he snarls. "Gonna shut that smart mouth of yours."

You moan at the contact, your head falling forward as you push your ass back against him. "Big talk, dickhead," you pant, your voice breathy with need. "Let's see what you've got."

Aemond responds to your taunts with a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing in the confined space of the car. "Fuck, you're asking for it," he growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time.

You gasp, your ass jiggling from the impact. "Shit, you're making a mess of me," you whine, wiggling your hips. Your pussy is throbbing, aching to be filled.

"That's the idea, slut," Aemond grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks. He spreads them apart, exposing your tight holes to his hungry gaze. "Gonna fucking wreck this tight little ass."

His hands move to his zipper, slowly dragging it down. The sound of the metal seems obscenely loud in the confined space of the car.

He pushes his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, the thick shaft springing up, hard and ready. The head is already slick with precum, the veins along the length pulsing with his heartbeat.

He spits in his palm, rubbing his saliva over his cock, giving it some lubrication. Then he's pressing the tip against your drooling hole, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groans, pushing forward, the head of his cock breaching your hole. You cry out, the stretch intense, bordering on pain.

"Relax, slut," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass again. "Take that fucking cock like a good whore."

He starts to move, his hips rocking back and forth, inch by inch of his thick shaft sinking into your tight heat. Your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn't give you time.

He starts fucking you in earnest, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. The car rocks with the force of his movements, the seat creaking beneath you.

"Fuck, you take it so well," he pants, his hand moving from your ass to grip your hip, holding you in place as he fucks into you. "Gonna fucking ruin this tight ass."

You moan, your hands gripping the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather. The pain in your ass mixes with the pleasure, making your head spin.

"Harder," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his, desperate for more. "Fuck me harder, shit."

Your juices drip down your thighs, pooling on the leather seat below as Aemond pounds into you.

Your hands grip the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather as you brace yourself for the onslaught. Aemond's hands are everywhere - gripping your hips, squeezing your ass, tugging at your hair. He uses you like a rag doll, fucking you with an animalistic need.

Aemond grunts, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. "Fuck, you want it hard, slut?" he growls, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna fucking give it to you."

He pulls nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip inside your stretched hole. Then he slams back in, his hips connecting with your ass with a sharp smack. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you recklessly, the car swaying with his thrusts.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he pants, sweat dripping down his face, his messy black hair sticking to his skin.

You can only moan, your mouth hanging open as you gasp for air. Your breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, your nipples hard and aching for attention.

Aemond's hand moves from your hip to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, twisting and tugging, sending sparks of pain through your body.

"Fuck, your tits are perfect," he groans, his hand moving to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper, your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock. The combination of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You reach down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation makes you see stars, your back arching as you moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," Aemond pants. "Getting off on being used like a fucking toy."

"Shit, I'm close," you pant, your nails digging into the leather seat and your fingers moving on your clit. "Don't stop, fuck, don't stop," you moan, your hips bucking back against him, seeking more friction. His fingers rub your clit in tight circles, the pressure building with each stroke.

He pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch, your ass pushing back against him. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"That's it, take it all you little slut," he pants, his hand moving from your tit to your clit, replacing your hand, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you whimper, your body tensing. "Please, Aemond, please."

"Do it," he commands, his fingers moving faster on your clit. "Come for me like the good little whore you are."

With a cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls rippling along his shaft.

Aemond groans, his hips stuttering as your orgasm milks his cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to spill?"

Your body convulses as the intense orgasm rips through you, your vision blurring and stars bursting behind your eyelids. "On my ass, fuck!" You cry out, the words torn from your throat. "Cum all over my ass!"

You arch your back, pushing your hips against Aemond's, desperate for more. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him.

You can feel his grip on your hips tighten, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the car, mixed with your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

Aemond's cock throbs inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy milks him. He growls low in his throat, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

"Fuck, gonna paint your ass white," he pants, his hips slamming against your ass with bruising force.

He pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your clenching hole with a wet sound. You whimper at the loss, your pussy aching to be filled again.

Aemond's hand comes down on your ass in a sharp smack, the sting making you gasp. "Present yourself," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Wanna see you take my load like a good little whore."

You arch your back even more, spreading your thighs as far as you can in the limited space. Your spasming holes are on full display for his hungry gaze.

Aemond kneels behind you, his cock in his hand, stroking it with quick, rough motions. "Fuck, you're such a good little girl," he pants, his eyes dark with lust as they roam over your body. "Too bad you're such a filthy slut."

He starts to come, his cock jerking in his hand as thick ropes of cum splatter across your ass and pussy. You moan, your fingers dipping between your folds to gather some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth.

"Fuck, look at you," Aemond groans, his hand still working his shaft, milking out every last drop. "Eating my cum like the dirty whore you are."

He collapses next to you on the seat, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging your head back to look at him.

"You're fucking perfect," he growls, his eyes intense as they bore into yours. "Mine."

"Mhm," you hum, collapsing onto Aemond's chest, your body spent and sated. The car reeks of sex and sweat, your combined releases staining the seats. It's filthy and sinful, turning you on.

Aemond's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he strokes your hair. You nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent, a mix of cologne and sex.

"That was intense," you murmur, your voice low and breathy. "You really know how to fuck a girl stupid."

Aemond chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Fucking right I do," he boasts, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're a damn good lay, too. Always so fucking eager for my cock."

He tugs on your hair, forcing your head back to look at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and possessiveness. "You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "This tight little body belongs to me."

"Such a good girl," he praises, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "Gonna keep you."

You smile against his fingers, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Keep me for what?" you tease. "You're not my man. I'm not your's to keep," you whisper, feeling an ache in your heart for some reason.

Aemond's eyes flash with a dangerous light, his grip on your chin tightening as he yanks your face closer to his.

His grip on your chin tightened. "The fuck I'm not," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I've had you more times than I can count. I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make when I'm buried inside you."

He shifts, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. "You're mine, whether you admit it or not."

His other hand slides down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs to gather the cum leaking from your abused hole. He brings it to your lips, smearing it across them.

"Look at you, so fucking dirty, so desperate for my cum. You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know you belong to me."

He crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

When he pulls back, you're panting, your lips swollen and tingling. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else, something you're not quite ready to name.You press your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to steady your breathing.

"I don't belong to anyone," you whisper, but there's no conviction in your voice. "We're just fucking, Aemond. Don't make it more than it is."

Aemond's eyes darken, a flash of anger crossing his face before it's quickly replaced with a predatory smirk. "Just fucking?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Is that what you think this is?"

He sits up, pulling you with him so you're straddling his lap. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place.

"We've been doing this for months, baby," he reminds you, his voice rough. "You think I don't know the difference between a quick fuck and what we have?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make, every way you tremble and writhe when I'm inside you."

"Stop fighting it," he growls, his eyes boring into yours. "You might tell your friends that this means nothing to you, that you think I'm some creepy guy you fuck. Yet you still keep coming back.."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words sending a shiver down your spine. How does he know? You've never told him those things. You shake your head, a strand of hair falling across your face. "No, I've never said that," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I swear."

You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, searching for any sign of deceit. "I wouldn't say those things about you," you insist. "I don't think you're weird."

Aemond's eyes narrow, his grip on your hips tightening until it almost hurts. "Don't lie to me," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I know you talk shit about me to your friends. I know you think I'm some kind of freak."

He leans in, his breath hot against your cheek. "But you keep coming back, don't you? You keep spreading your legs for me, begging me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are."

His hand moves from your hip to your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "You can't resist me, can you? No matter how much you try to pretend, your body knows who it belongs to."

He squeezes your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race. "I've heard you, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've heard you call me a freak, a deviant. But you still come back, letting me use your tight little body for my pleasure."

Your cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment as Aemond's words sink in. You try to pull away from his grip, your naked bodies still intertwined, but his hold is too strong. "Yes, fine. I have said those things about you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

You search his eyes, trying to find the right words. "Aemond, you fight people. You're dangerous." You say it with a seriousness that misrepresents the thrill that runs through you at the very thought. It's the danger that makes him so appealing.

You sigh, your fingers caressing his face, tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Must you have such an effect on me?" You mutter, before leaning in to kiss him.

Aemond's lips meet yours in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a fierce intensity. His grip on your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and stinging from the force of his kiss.

"You fuckin' love it," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You love the danger, the thrill of being with a man who can break you."

"Admit it," he presses, his voice low and dangerous. "You get off on the fact that I could snap anyone's fucking neck with one hand."

Aemond's grip on your throat loosens, his thumb stroking your pulse point in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Would you ever hurt me?" You whisper, your breath hot on his lips, your faces mere inches apart. A flicker of fear in your eyes, but it's quickly overshadowed by the desire burning within you. You search his gaze, looking for any sign of malice, any hint of danger. But all you see is raw, primal hunger.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw. He's so close. It's intoxicating and terrifying at once. You have seen him fight, seen the way he's hurt others with minimal effort. He could break you, shatter you into a million pieces if he wanted to.

Aemond's eyes soften for a moment, a rare vulnerability flickering in their depths. "You think I'd hurt you?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Baby, I'd die before I let anyone lay a finger on you."

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're mine," he growls, his voice fierce with possessiveness. "And I protect what's mine."

His hand slides from your throat to your cheek, cupping your face gently. "I may be aggressive, but I'm not a pig," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "I'd never hurt you, not like that."

"But make no mistake," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

You bite his thumb lightly as he speaks, his possessive demeanour sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Anyone who would hurt me?" You purr, leaning into his touch like a small lamb. His words ignite a fire deep within you, a primal desire to be owned, claimed, and protected.

You know you shouldn't give in to this, but you can't help yourself. The way he looks at you like you are the only woman in the world, it's intoxicating.

Aemond growls low in his throat, his eyes darkening with lust at the feel of your teeth on his skin. "That's right, baby," he purrs, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. "You're mine, and I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."

Your breath hitches in your throat at Aemond's words, his dangerous claims sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze, your eyes are wide and full of devotion, a vulnerability you rarely show to anyone.

He tugs you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. "I'll protect you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll cherish you. I'll fucking worship you."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "Body and soul."

Aemond's eyes flash with fierce triumph at your words, a primal look of satisfaction spreading across his face. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growls, tugging you closer and crushing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

"Get dressed, pretty girl. I'm taking you to my place," he demands, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond's eyes blaze with desire as he watches you scramble to put on your clothes, your naked body still slick with his cum. He licks his lips, his cock already hardening again at the sight of you.

He helps you to the passenger seat, smirking. "Hope you don't mind a messy ride."

[cherienymphe]

Suburbia X

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, blackmail, voyeurism, stalking, breeding kink, eventual violence, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland

➥ series masterlist

~

“Thanks for coming.”

That was what you finally said to Peter after you both had been sitting on your couch for what felt like hours. In truth, it was only about ten minutes, but the silence was so tense and heavy—and you were so nervous and terrified of the young man in front of you—that the time didn’t pass normally in your mind.

Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and without them he looked beyond only twenty-three. Or maybe that was all in your head. Maybe the reveal of his true character and nature made him seem so much more intimidating…and in turn, older. His dark curls framed his face as he gazed at you, patiently waiting for you to say what he was no doubt eagerly waiting to hear.

“Well…” he ran his eyes over your face. “Over the phone I asked if this was about our talk, and you said sort of, so naturally I became curious.”

You nodded at that, glancing away from him and taking in the silence of your house. Your girls were asleep, and you envied them in this moment. You envied their innocence and their complete ignorance of what was going on around them and their own part in it. You would never in a million years tell them what you were about to put yourself through just to protect them and their quality of life, but you hoped they’d grow up to understand the lengths you would go to for them.

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“I wanted to tell you face to face that you were right,” you finally said, looking at him.

Peter’s face was hard to read, but there was a noticeable glint in his dark eyes that made your heart stutter. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he straightened, and it made him appear taller. You felt so small and insignificant beneath his gaze, and you desperately tried to remember what you were doing and why you were doing it. Peter had seamlessly shifted the power dynamic—and in the worst way possible—and you desperately needed to have the upperhand again.

“When I chose to be a single mom…I did it with no regrets and because it was genuinely what I wanted.”

Peter leaned in a bit, and you spoke up.

“...and so…determined to prove something, I think that I never even really considered the possibility of more. Of more helping hands, of more comforting figures in their lives, of more…love that could be given to my girls,” you continued, looking between his eyes. “...and me.”

Peter wasn’t saying anything, and you felt a stab of panic, wondering if he saw through you.

“You were right. You are so good to them…and me, and it’s terrifying not only because it’s new but also because it’s you.”

You abruptly stood, turning away from him.

“You’re so much younger and I hired you and Peter, you have to understand,” your voice cracked as you stared at the wall. “You have to understand how I’m feeling because this makes me look and feel like some predator, like-.”

You cut yourself off when familiar hands took your arms, forcing you to face him, and you watched the way Peter’s expression softened with one look at your face.

“I know that I said some unkind things, but this situation is very tricky and scary and has the potential to really change my life in a way that can’t be undone or at the very least not for years and years to come-.”

“I know that,” he whispered, finally speaking again. “Trust me, I understand-.”

“You say that, but if this doesn’t work out, you're not the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout. Do you truly understand how people will see me? It doesn’t matter that this was reciprocated. Cougar will be one of the nicer words I’ll be referred to as…”

Your words died in your throat as Peter gently shushed you, one hand coming up to graze your now tearful cheek. The way he looked at you told you that he believed everything you were saying, but you couldn’t be sure. He leaned in a tad, and on instinct, you turned your face away. Your gaze lowered to focus on the floor, and you felt Peter’s breath on your face as he sighed.

“No. You’re not the kind of woman to just jump into something like this, and I should have known that,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “I should’ve known that you would panic and freak out and follow your initial instinct of rejecting this in every way you can.”

The younger man rubbed your arms, hands gently sliding up and down over the fabric of your sleeves, and you shuddered.

“You’re smart about things, and it’s why I love you,” he murmured, making your stomach churn. “I should have thought about that, gone about this differently.”

You finally met his gaze, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he looked at you. It reminded you of that night—or what you could remember from it, anyway—and the morning after and the day at the restaurant. One of his hands tightened on your arm, and you swallowed at the position you put yourself in.

“...but you don’t understand what you do to me,” Peter chuckled.

It was light, and his teeth winked at you, and his eyes gleamed in a way that terrified you. It didn’t matter what you believed because Peter believed he was in love with you and was the one for you and was the best father for your girls. His mind was made up, and you felt that you should’ve accepted as such when he went through such great lengths to back you into a corner.

He handled this whole ordeal like a man with nothing to lose, and you supposed that in a way, that was true. In this scenario, you were the one with way more to lose. If this ever got out, you would be the villain in this story, and it was something that Peter had so eloquently thrown in your face.

“I don’t think I can say I regret confronting you like I did at the restaurant,” he confessed, his thumb brushing along your lip. “...but believe it or not, I didn’t take pleasure in putting things into perspective for you like that.”

So that was what he was calling it.

“I don’t take pleasure in hurting you in any way, even if it is only making you uncomfortable for a short while, but I needed to make you understand. Understand what you mean to me and what I would do to have you.”

When his lips gently brushed along yours, you let him kiss you.

“You don’t even know the things I would do for you—the things I have done for you,” he whispered into the kiss, and you couldn’t stop your form from trembling.

Peter noticed, and he made a humming noise.

“There are a lot of things for you to fear in this world, but now that we see eye to eye, I’ll never be one of them.”

You felt tears kiss your eyes as he tried to kiss you again, but spoke, effectively halting his movements.

“It’s not you I’m afraid of, Peter.”

A lie.

He seemed to understand what you were getting at, and he chuckled again. The dark-haired man pulled back some to gaze at you like you were so silly, and you hated how boyish that smile made him.

“You’re it for me, Y/N. Don’t you get that? Hmm?”

He held your gaze with his own dark one.

“Whatever comes of this, you’ll never have to doubt my loyalty. I’m going to be by your side when things inevitably progress into something more public, and I will make sure that whatever those…” he took a deep breath, lip curling over his teeth. “...women put you through, it will be worth it.”

His brows drew together as he fought to make you believe his words.

“I swear to you, now that it won’t hold a candle to coming home to me everyday. I’m going to make you so happy that whatever they have to say won’t mean a thing to you.”

Peter kissed you again then, deeply inhaling.

“I’m not going anywhere…”

You knew that those words—if nothing else—were true, and that was what you hated.

You stood with your arms around yourself as you watched Peter bring a suitcase into the house. You had prepared yourself for this, anticipating by all of his actions so far that Peter was not one to take things slow. Or at least, he didn’t want to take things slowly with you. Besides, if you were going to get your hands on every copy of that tape he possibly had, then you needed to be up under each other’s noses.

You needed him to be comfortable enough to bring his things—his laptop—into your house and not spare your proximity a second thought. When he caught your eye, you gave him a gentle smile, and while he was slow to return it, he eventually did. You took your time in nearing him.

“I know how nervous this makes you,” he told you, and he reached for your face. “It’s okay. We’ll be discreet for a while, and I’ll gradually make myself at home, and when the time is right…”

He trailed off, a secretive smile dancing on his lips at the thought of going public with you one day.

“Thank you,” you finally replied. “You don’t even understand how much that puts me at ease, Peter. Especially since I know how difficult this is for you.”

The look he gave you encouraged you to elaborate, and so you did.

“While I might not completely understand it just yet, you do love me, and it can’t be easy hiding a relationship with someone you care about so much.”

You noticed the way his face fell a bit at that, and you reached out to rest your hand on his arm.

“I don’t doubt that you want to navigate like any other couple in the world, but you’re being considerate of me and how this will affect me, and it means a lot.”

You stepped closer, and you watched Peter’s eyes drink in the action.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him.

At that, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you played with the fabric of his sweater.

“...and I’m sorry that I let my fear and panic prevent me from seeing that before.”

You watched him take a deep breath, dark eyes still trained on you.

“It’s okay,” he quietly told you. “I forgive you for that, you don’t have to…”

He shook his head.

“Don’t apologize for it.”

You took his hand, and Peter was eager in threading his fingers through yours. He pulled you along up the stairs to unpack, and you told yourself that smiling in his face and kissing him with your eyes closed and telling him what he wanted to hear was the easy part. As you walked down the hall—Peter taking the lead—you reminded yourself that the hard part was only just beginning. 

The real challenge would come in cohabitating with him like he was someone you cared about. The truly hard part of all this would come when he wanted to shower together and wrap his arms around you in bed and pull you against him like you were any average couple in love. 

When he wanted to have sex with you.

This would go beyond just acting, but you would have to fully embody someone else—someone who cared about this man almost as much as he cared about you but was simply hesitant and nervous. You would have to take on an entirely new persona, and to make it all the more challenging, you had to do it in enough time to get what you needed before he wanted this relationship to go public.

…because you didn’t care what Peter said.

He wasn’t going to be content with keeping this between you forever.

You hadn’t missed the way he’d said Bucky’s name at that restaurant. There were more sides to Peter you hadn’t been privy to yet, and you hoped to God that you never would be, but you knew without a doubt that there was a part of Peter that wanted to show this entire town you belonged to him. Peter had never struck you as that kind of man, but then again, there were a lot of things about him that you absolutely would have never guessed.

As you helped him unpack what he brought over, you tried to keep your face even at the sight of clothes and toiletries and nothing else.

“I’ll have to tell Nat that I rehired you, of course,” you said to him, hesitantly glancing his way. “It seems silly to have you hide away any time she comes over.”

Peter found that funny for some reason, and he nodded.

“Of course. What are you going to tell her when she asks why?”

You stewed on that for a moment.

“I haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll tell her that I just really need you around, right now,” you eventually came up with, and it wasn’t a lie.

“Well, it’s not a lie,” he said, voicing your own thought. “You do need me.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, pausing in his unpacking to give you his attention. Peter’s intentions were pretty clear, and you didn’t doubt that said intentions had been on his mind from the moment you’d uttered the words ‘you were right’ earlier. While you knew that it would eventually come to that—probably as soon as hours from now—you weren’t mentally prepared. You couldn’t make your body do that, right now, and so you hurried to ruin his mood.

“I’ll have to tell Bucky the same…”

Your words had the desired effect, and you relaxed a little when Peter froze. He lifted his head from the crook of your neck to rest his chin on it, and while you had expected several things, you hadn’t expected the next words that came from his mouth.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Mr. Barnes to come by here, anymore.”

You couldn’t stop your frown at that, and you pulled away just a little to turn and face him. Peter’s visage was entirely serious, and your frown deepened as you realized this. His expression didn't relent at all the longer you stared at him, and you were the one to break the tense silence.

“Peter…”

“I’m serious,” he confirmed, moving to finish unpacking the rest of his clothes. “Now that our relationship has evolved, I don’t want him coming by here anymore.”

“...but he’s my friend.”

The younger man gave a scoffing bark of a laugh at that, and you watched him run his hand through his thick curls.

“Friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”

The humor disappeared from his features by the time he looked at you again.

“He’s your friend because you didn’t want more with him. If you had, he wouldn’t be your friend right now, and we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”

You blinked at that.

“The kind that would involve me telling you to break up with him because I actually dislike sharing.”

His tone was serious, and you swallowed as he stared you down. Your lips parted, and you snapped them shut, thinking over your next words carefully.

“If I suddenly stop being friends with him, it’ll be very suspicious, Peter.”

He stared at you for what felt like too long, expression unmoving before his lips suddenly pulled into a small smile.

“While true, I imagine that him walking in on you coming around me would be even more suspicious.”

His words had you blinking furiously, but before you could respond to such a thinly veiled threat, you heard a familiar cry. The curly-haired young man didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing in favor of checking on whichever twin had woken up from her nap first.

You were still tense from his parting words, and telling yourself that you needed to pick your battles wisely, you softly sighed.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright ask Peter to delete that video. It was so brazenly stupid that not only would Peter accuse you of not trusting him, but he might even suspect this whole thing was an act. He’d be right, of course, and it was why you had to convincingly get him settled into a comfortable lull. 

…and you had to do that by committing to doing things you weren’t comfortable doing.

Your fingers clawed at your sheets as Peter’s tongue swiped between your folds and pressed itself into your core. Your girls were down for the night, and you knew that as soon as they were, and dinner was done and put away, Peter would waste no time in reaching out for what he felt now belonged to him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened,” he’d murmured to you, humming at the taste of wine on your lips.

You’d concluded that you needed something in your system if you were to commit to this.

“The sounds you made, the way you tasted on my lips,” he’d breathed into your mouth. “The way you felt wrapped around me.”

He’d taken a reprieve on the stairs, just pinning you against the wall and kissing you. His hands hadn’t stayed in one place for long, touching every inch of you that he could, and when he seemed satisfied, he continued in pulling you towards your bedroom.

“Fuck,” he’d swore into the kiss the moment you were through the threshold. “I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”

The moments that followed bled together into one long endless pleasurable moment. You didn’t know if it was a relief or not that Peter was so skilled and so determined to make you come undone. You found it shockingly easy to surrender to his ministrations, unable to swallow down your moans and whimpers as he ate you out.

His tongue—so warm and firm—greedily lapped at you, and his fingers pressed into your thighs so hard that you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises in the morning. Your chest arched as you squirmed on the bed, and unable to help yourself, one of your hands found it’s way to his curls. Peter hummed against your cunt, and you knew that he liked that.

You confirmed as much when he reached up to find your other hand before forcing it to find a home in his hair right next to your other one. You were completely naked—Peter having wasted no time in getting your clothes off of you—but your nudity did nothing to cool you down. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you absentmindedly recalled that Peter was only partially undressed.

It seemed that he only just remembered that too, and when he pulled his mouth away from you, you were ashamed of the stab of disappointment that tore through you. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, and you blinked as you watched him sit up before getting undressed.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he did, pulling his lip between his teeth as he rejoined you on the bed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The wine in your system definitely helped you to relax, but if you were honest, it did more than that. Playing this part came to you easier than you anticipated, and that worried you a little. Maybe even scared you a little.

The younger man was gentle in running his hand up your leg, fingers dancing along your skin as he did so. His dark eyes appeared even darker if that were at all possible, and in this moment, it was evident that Peter cared about nothing more than he did the thought of being inside of you again.

Glancing down, you caught sight of his cock—erect and wet at the very tip and just waiting to fill you up.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, reaching for your face.

When he kissed you, you didn’t swallow down your hum in time, and your throat vibrated as it climbed out of your mouth and into the kiss. Peter’s entire body covered yours as he made himself comfortable on top of you, and—playing your part—you rested your hands on his back. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you.

Peter didn’t waste any more time.

Forcing your knees to hook over his arms, Peter lifted his hips and dipped his cock into you with one smooth thrust. A choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time. Your hands slid over him, unsure of what to grasp onto, and you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that started to fall from your lips.

Peter was fucking you with the assured confidence that he finally had you.

The strained grunts that left his mouth were in time with every push of his cock, and you were almost ashamed of how wet you were. Although, you supposed that it would only prove to help you in convincing Peter this was genuine. You were literally dripping around him, and you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were playing a part. That you were doing what you needed to do to earn his trust and get him to let his guard down.

Although that was easier said than done when his lips kept seeking yours out. Every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasped again when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin there. His toned chest repeatedly brushed against yours with every movement, and the gentle stimulation against your hardened buds made you shudder beneath him.

Every time he dipped his cock into you, the sound reached your ears…and his too.

“You’re dripping for me,” he whispered into the kiss. “I love how wet you are.”

You wanted to come up with something to say to reel him in more, but you were genuinely at a loss for words. It was hard to focus on anything besides the feel of him stretching you out.

“I’m so glad you came around, So glad,” he murmured, kissing you over and over and over again. “I really…I really didn’t want to do things the hard way.”

Your bed shook beneath you as Peter pounded into you, his curls tickling your skin.

“You may not believe that, but it’s true.”

He finally paused, holding himself inside of you as he pulled his head back some. He stared into your eyes—both of your chests heaving—and he looked between them as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I meant it when I said I don't take pleasure in hurting you. That’s not something that makes me happy,” he said through uneven breaths.

He slowly pulled his hips back before snapping them against you again, and you gasped. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, carefully watching your face.

“...but I’ll do what I have to. You understand?”

He didn’t give you time to respond.

“I’m smart, and you know it, and I know you know it.”

Your nails dragged along his skin as he thrust into you slowly, taking his time in pushing the length of him into you.

“So if all of this is just you playing at something, then you need to be prepared to play at it for the rest of your life,” he whispered to you, staring into your eyes. “...because you don’t know the things I’ve done to protect you.”

Your wide eyes looked between his at that.

“...and I’ll do worse to keep you.”

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU, SWEETS. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you make what feels like the worst decision of your life—getting into a hot tub with your fake boyfriend, katsuki bakugou.

starring: fake boyfriend! katsuki bakugou x oblivious! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: fake established relationship, prefers ass, humping/ grinding, a little degradation, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), sexual stuff in water

note: pro hero! katsuki drabble, usage of "woman", "sweets" "baby", "slut", fem reader, fake relationship trope, inspired by to all the boys ive loved before hot tub/ jacuzzi scene. I KNOW I HAVE A POLL, I PROMISE ILL GET TO THAT, JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS OFF OF MY CHEST💜💜

╰┈➤ ❝ [this is so stupid...] ❞ you mumble, walking down the hallway to the pool area, your arms crossed as the cold winter breeze hits your skin.

somehow, kirishima talked you into confronting your 'boyfriend', katsuki bakugou, after he started ignoring you in the class 1A ski-trip/christmas party this year.

"c'mon, girl, hes probably waiting for you in the hot tub 'nyway. get in there, and get him!"

it was only supposed to be a fake arrangement between you two. to be honest, you're not even sure why hes mad. but he was.

the hand-holding, hugs and kisses started to feel too real, the closeness felt too intimate. it was all getting in your head so you distanced yourself from him, sitting next to ochako in the bus instead of katsuki.

katsuki needed to get his ranks up in the charts and you needed publicity. that was all there was to it. supposed to be, anyway.

you reach the pool area and thats when you see him. katsuki bakugo. in the hot tub. shirtless. and in swimming trunks. he's lounging with his eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, letting the heat and jets of the tub ease his muscles.

you catch your bottom lip between your teeth. you draw closer to the hot tub, perching yourself on the ledge across from katsuki, not getting in the water because you had a night gown on. for now.

though his eyes are closed, a slight shift in his demeanor reveals that he's aware of your presence. even in his attempt to maintain a façade of calm, the subtle tension in his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw betray his awareness of you.

"katsuki?" you tilt your head, trying to get his attention.

when he doesn't respond, you scoff, crossing your arms.

"wow, katsuki, real mature."

his eyebrow twitches at the comment on his maturity, his eyes flutter open. he looks at you with an unimpressed stare, his expression a mix of annoyance and... something else.

"oh, because you're a real shinin' example of maturity," he retorts, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

you frown at him. "seriously, why are you mad at me? and don't go yappin' about how you're not mad, i can tell."

"why do you think?" he grumbles, unable to meet your eyes as his cheeks tinged pink.

"...you've been hangin' around with round cheeks all fuckin' day."

that was all he was mad about? is he.. no. he couldn't be jealous. he had no reason to.

"that... that shouldn't matter."

"well, it does matter, goddamn it," he mutters angrily as his scowl deepens, his jaw clenching in frustration.

"you don't get it, do you? you're my girlfriend, you were supposed to sit with me."

"fake girlfriend-"

"i don't give a flyin' fuck. you're still my girlfriend, woman, fake or not. i expected you to sit with me. and instead, what do i see? you hangin' out with fuckin..."

he lets out an exasperated sigh, raking a hand through his wet hair. he looks like he's trying to find the right words to express his feelings without coming across as too jealous or vulnerable.

"fuck. fuck, i'm... i'm not tryna control you, okay? but it bugs the shit out of me. it bugs me that you were hanging with round face. it bugs me that you sat next to her instead of me."

katsuki's gaze softens at your quiet, conflicted expression. he sighs again, his eyes briefly darting away from you before he continues.

"i... i even brought your damn favorite snacks in case you got hungry," he mutters, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "i thought, we could have sat together and, you know..."

you look up at him, a hint of surprise widening your eyes. you contemplate how to continue, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile. "do you... still have some left over?"

katsuki scoffs at the attempt to change the mood, but can't help the brief spark of amusement that flickers in his eyes.

"no, obviously," he replies with a roll of his eyes. "i ate some and gave kirishima the rest after you decided to ditch me."

"rude."

"damn right, it was rude. tch, ditchin' me like that."

you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head, looking at him with a soft gaze. "i'm.. i'm sorry i didn't sit next to you."

katsuki's ears turned slightly pink as he hears your apology. he glances at you hesitantly before looking away again, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor.

"yeah, well, apology accepted, i guess," he mutters, his voice lacking its usual sharpness.

you nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. after a brief moment of silence, you gather your courage and shed your nightgown, revealing your bare skin as you slowly step into the warm embrace of the hot tub.

katsuki's eyes widen as you stripped, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you in just a pair of black bra and panties. his eyes roam over your body greedily, taking in every curve and contour.

he clears his throat, his gaze is fixed on your figure as you step into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you. he tries to keep his thoughts in check, but the sight of you like this, almost naked, is making it incredibly hard (like his dick).

"damn..." he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "what are you doing to me, sweets?"

you look at him with eyebrows raised, a soft smile formed on your lips. "hm?"

he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. the water laps around you two, creating a sense of intimacy, and it only adds to the tension.

"seriously, do you have to look like that right now?"

"like what?"

"like... that," his voice is hoarse, gesturing vaguely at your form. "like you're tryna drive me crazy."

katsuki reaches out, his hand hovering just above your torso before finally making contact, his fingers gently carressing the curve of your waist. his hand felt so warm, almost competing with the heat in his eyes now mixed with his raw desire for you.

"damn it, woman. you're killin' me here..."

"can i apologize for that too?"

"i'll forgive you... under one condition," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. his hand slowly roams over your bare skin, exploring your body with a newfound confidence.

he pulls you closer, the water sloshing around you as he guides you onto his lap. his arms encircle your waist firmly, every contour and dip of your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. the corners of his mouth tug to a grin."sit here for me."

your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a rush of heat across your cheeks. you could feel his hot, raging boner, pressing up against your cunt through the thin, pathetic fabric you call panties.

a cheeky grin spreads across your face. "katsuki, is that...?"

he groans, his voice low and gruff with frustrated desire. "just shut the fuck up, sweets."

his hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you nearer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, hungry kiss. his tongue dances with yours, greedy and demanding.

the kiss was intense, filled with pent-up longing and need and so much words both of you couldn't say.

he keeps you trapped against his body with his arms in the hot tub, his touch both tender and possessive.

"such a nice fuckin' ass.." he whispers, groping and massaging your doughy ass before pulling you back in for a deeper kiss.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you grind on his hard-on, a little embarassed as you feel your panties dampen more from the water and your slick but can't help but want him. need him.

"fuck," he groans, feeling his cock get so painfully hard just from you humping him. "you little.."

your breath hitches when you felt his hand slide down your inner thigh, tugging the pathetic g-string to the side. he enters a finger inside of you, seperating your folds, feeling your warm pussy and your wet slick in the midst of the water. "k-katsuki-"

"aww, this all for me, sweets?" he coos, watching you whimper as he rubs your aching clit.

you pout as you grind against his hand, desperate for friction. your teeth sink into your lip as he put a second finger, your eyes glistening with a mixture of desire and greed. "so what if it is..?"

"that fucking eager for me, huh?" he chuckles darkly, his fingers enveloped by the warmth of your pussy as he curls them inside of you. "gonna take it all for me, yeah?"

you nodded, clinging onto him like a lifeline, whimpering and mewling choked versions of his name. "fuck, fuck.. kat- katsu.. katsuki..."

katsuki groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hand your hips grip you tighter, pulling you closer, while curling his thick digits against your sensitive spots, the sound of your lewd noises music to his ears.

"see my fingers fuckin' you, baby?" he mutters, his lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your tender skin. "only i can make your pretty pussy feel this good, yeah?"

"mhm," you manage. despite the embarrassment, you can't help but give in to the heat building between you.

his eyes lock onto yours, his voice sultry and mean. "you know, you're such a fuckin' slut. lettin' me finger you like this where anyone can see us."

a loud moan escapes your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers at the name. you couldn't help it. fuck, he was so, so mean. and you fucking loved it.

a cocky grin spreads across his face, letting out a low chuckle. "oh? you like it when i call you a slut?" he taunts, bringing a grin to his face at your reaction. "can't believe you're into that shit, sweets."

"it's your fault- fuck.."

"oh? blamin' me now?" he taunts, a cocky expression on his face. "thought you were more.. mature than that."

katsuki flaps his fingers faster inside of you, abandoning the slow, careful pace of curling he did earlier. your slick and the hot tub water moistens his fingers, yet you can still smell the faint hit of your cunt.

"katsukiii! fuck, fuck, fuck. too much, too much..."

"just look at you, sweets. takin' my fingers like a champ, such a good fuckin' girl," he coos, his filthy praises making your pussy clench around his fingers.

"bet you wanted this as much as i did, did you?"

"n-no-"

"bullshit. if you don't, tell me to stop right now."

"sh-shit, no.. don't stop, please.. please, i need you.."

"that's what i thought," his grin widens, his hand that had been resting on your hip moves lower, tapping your leg gently. "lift your hips up for me."

with a nod, you comply, the water rippling around you as it drips out of your legs, katsuki finally seeing your sweet little cunt without the transluscent filter of the water. his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, letting out a shaky exhale as he rubs your clit.

"you close, sweets?" he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, feeling you nod before he leans in for a long, lingering kiss.

"cum on my face, 'kay?" he utters softly after pulling away, leaning down on your sweet cunt before lapping his tongue away at your aching slit while still pumping his fingers full of you.

his tongue felt so good. he felt so good, it hurts. all you could smell was the intoxicating scent of your cunt and katsuki's saliva sloshed together.

"katsuki..." you can't help but let out a lewd mewl, whimpering as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body.

"there's no one like you, sweets," katsuki groans into your pussy, the loud sounds he was making as he ate you out while he fucked his fingers into you was just so lewd. when it felt so good. when anyone could catch you doing this. "cum on my face, baby, c'mon.."

you shudder from the pleasure from his touch as you feel your release, chest heaving up and down as you catch your breath. though, his tongue kept flicking at your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you as you ride your high.

your post-nut clarity kicks in. fuck, you just.. let katsuki bakugo, your fake boyfriend, not only finger you but you let him eat you out. it doesn't matter you were into him. he was still your fake boyfriend.

and not just anywhere, no. but in the damn hot tub. where anyone could've seen you. the worst part? you enjoyed it to your core.

before you can think loudly again, you feel his lips brush gently against your cheek. you turn to look at him, a little surprised at the sudden show of tenderness after the heated moment as your eyes meet. you take in the disheveled sight of him, his hair damp and wet as he catches his breath, your mind still trying to catch up to the events of tonight.

"sweets... my room. now. please."

should i do part 2 guys lmaolmao hope you enjoyed 💜💜

[scoupsakakitty]

More than Friends | idol!Scoups x reader | angst,fluff

The dorm buzzed with energy, laughter bouncing off the walls as the members sprawled across couches and bean bags, arguing about what movie to watch next. Y/N sat cross-legged on the carpet, her back leaning against the edge of the couch, where Seungcheol lounged comfortably.

He was laughing at something Wonwoo said, his head tipped back, eyes crinkled at the corners in that way that made Y/N’s heart skip. She quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the half-empty bowl of popcorn in her lap.

It wasn’t the first time she’d caught herself staring. And if Jeonghan’s knowing glances were anything to go by, it definitely wasn’t the first time someone else had noticed.

“Are you seriously just going to keep sitting there and pretending like you’re not in love with him?” Jeonghan’s voice was low as he leaned closer.

Y/N stiffened. “Would you keep your voice down?”

Jeonghan smirked. “They’re too busy arguing about movies to hear me.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Y/N.” Jeonghan’s voice softened, and she hated how easily he could see right through her. “You need to tell him.”

She shook her head, pretending to be more interested in the popcorn than the way Seungcheol’s laugh sent butterflies through her stomach. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple.”

“No, it’s not,” she whispered sharply. “We’ve been friends for over ten years, Jeonghan. What if I tell him and it ruins everything? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Jeonghan gave her a look. “You don’t know that.”

But she did. Or at least she thought she did.

Before Jeonghan could press further, Seungkwan’s voice cut through the noise.

“Y/N, how do you even put up with Cheol all the time? Ten years? I’d lose my mind.”

Y/N forced a laugh. “We’re used to each other by now.”

“That’s not an answer,” Seungkwan teased.

Seungcheol leaned back, smirking. “She’s stuck with me, that’s why. We’re basically unbreakable.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said quickly, ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks. “He’s my best friend.”

Her heart sank the moment the words left her mouth.

Seungcheol grinned, completely unfazed. “See? Best friends.”

The words shouldn’t have hurt, but they did. And judging by the way Jeonghan’s gaze flickered toward her, he knew it too.

She tried to laugh along with the others, but something inside her shifted.

Maybe it was time to move on.

————————————————————————————-

Two weeks later, Y/N was seeing someone new.

His name was Minho. He worked in event planning, and he was charming, funny, and most importantly interested in her. When he’d asked her out, it felt like the universe giving her a push, so she said yes.

It was easy at first. Minho made her laugh and distracted her from the ache in her chest whenever she thought about Seungcheol.

But the more time she spent with Minho, the less time she had for Seungcheol.

And Seungcheol noticed.

“Where’s Y/N?”

It was the third time Seungcheol had asked that question in a week, and Jeonghan was starting to lose patience.

“She’s busy,” Jeonghan said, not even looking up from his phone. “Probably with Minho.”

Seungcheol’s jaw tensed.

“What’s so great about him anyway?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to know him to know he’s not right for her.”

Jeonghan finally looked up, his expression carefully neutral. “And what makes you think that?”

Seungcheol hesitated, but before he could answer, Mingyu snickered from across the room.

“Dude, just admit it. You’re jealous.”

Seungcheol glared at him. “I’m not jealous.”

“Sure,” Vernon muttered under his breath.

“I’m not!”

Jeonghan set his phone down and crossed his arms. “Okay, then what’s the problem?”

Seungcheol opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t know how to explain it. All he knew was that every time he saw Y/N with Minho, something inside him twisted painfully, and it wouldn’t go away.

“You’re all acting like this is normal,” he snapped, shoving himself off the couch. “But it’s not. She barely knows him, and now she’s acting like—like he’s more important than everything else.”

“Like he’s more important than you?” Jeonghan asked quietly.

Seungcheol froze.

“Cheol,” Joshua said, his voice softer now, “you need to figure out why this is bothering you so much.”

Seungcheol didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out.

————————————————————————————-

The night air was cool against his skin as he stepped outside, but it did nothing to calm the storm in his chest.

What was wrong with him?

Why did it feel like his entire world was falling apart just because Y/N was dating someone?

He paced back and forth, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to make sense of the mess in his head.

“Seungcheol.”

He turned to see Jeonghan standing behind him, hands in his pockets and an annoyingly calm expression on his face.

“What?” Seungcheol snapped.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

Jeonghan stepped closer. “You’re an idiot,” he repeated. “And you know why? Because you’re acting like you have some kind of right to be mad at her when you’re the one who’s been too scared to do anything about your feelings.”

Seungcheol flinched.

“You love her.” Jeonghan’s words hit him like a punch. “And instead of telling her that, you’ve spent years pretending you don’t. Now she’s finally trying to move on, and you’re mad? That’s not fair, Cheol.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out.

Because Jeonghan was right.

He loved her.

And he’d been too blind or too scared to admit it.

“She loved you first, you know,” Jeonghan said quietly. “She’s loved you for years. But you kept pushing her away without even realizing it. So don’t stand here acting like she betrayed you when you’re the one who let her slip through your fingers.”

Seungcheol felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Fix it,” Jeonghan said, turning to walk away. “Before it’s too late.”

————————————————————————————-

Seungcheol didn’t sleep that night. He spent hours replaying every moment, every look, every touch—and suddenly, it all made sense.

The way she’d always been there for him. The way her smile softened when she looked at him. The way she laughed at his dumb jokes even when no one else did.

She loved him.

And he loved her too.

Now he just had to make sure she knew it.

————————————————————————————-

The practice room was loud, the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the floor and beats thumping through the speakers filling the space. But Seungcheol wasn’t paying attention.

His movements were sharp, almost aggressive as he led the group through their choreography, pushing harder than usual. He needed the distraction. He needed to drown out the thoughts that had been chasing him since his conversation with Jeonghan the night before.

She loved him. She’d always loved him.

And he’d been too scared to see it.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Seungkwan’s voice snapped him out of his daze.

“What?”

“You’ve been off all morning,” Seungkwan said. “And honestly, you kind of look like you’re about to punch someone.”

Seungcheol exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m fine.”

But then Mingyu’s voice rang out from across the room.

“Guys, did you hear? Y/N’s going on vacation!”

Seungcheol froze.

“With Minho,” Mingyu added, oblivious to the way Seungcheol’s entire body tensed. “Apparently it’s super last minute. She told me this morning.”

“What?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp enough to make everyone stop and stare.

“She and Minho are flying out tomorrow,” Mingyu said. “Some beach resort or something.”

The room went completely silent as eleven pairs of eyes turned to Seungcheol, who looked like he’d just been punched in the gut.

Then chaos erupted.

“WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?!” Seungkwan shouted.

“GO TO HER!” Vernon added, shoving Seungcheol toward the door.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!”

Jeonghan didn’t say anything. He just crossed his arms and gave Seungcheol a look that said, You know what you have to do.

Seungcheol didn’t need to be told twice.

————————————————————————————-

His heart felt like it was going to explode as he stood outside her apartment door, his fist hovering just inches away from knocking.

What if he was too late?

What if she’d already left?

What if—

The door opened.

“Seungcheol?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She was dressed casually shorts and an oversized t-shirt but there was a suitcase by the door, and the sight of it made his stomach drop.

“You’re really leaving?”

She blinked. “What?”

“With Minho. Tomorrow.”

Her brows furrowed. “How did you—”

“Mingyu told me,” he cut in.

She sighed, stepping back to let him in. “It’s not a big deal, Cheol. It’s just a trip.”

“It is a big deal,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You’re leaving with him. And I can’t—” He stopped, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t let you do this.”

She stared at him, confused and a little defensive. “What do you mean you can’t let me? It’s my life, Seungcheol. I don’t need your permission.”

“That’s not what I meant!” he snapped.

“Then what did you mean?”

He took a shaky breath, his chest tightening. “I mean… I can’t watch you walk away. Not like this. Not with him.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I hate it, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking. “I hate seeing you with him. I hate that he gets to have your time, your attention, when I’ve had it for years, and I was too stupid to realize what it meant.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and it made his heart ache even more.

“Why are you doing this now, Seungcheol?” she whispered.

“Because I can’t lose you.”

“You already did,” she said, her voice trembling. “When you called me your best friend. When you made it so clear that that’s all we’d ever be. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

He stepped closer. “I didn’t mean it. I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of ruining what we had.” He reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “Of losing you if I messed this up. But now I realize I’m losing you anyway, and it’s killing me.”

Her tears spilled over, and Seungcheol gently cupped her face.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it scares me. And I know I don’t deserve you after everything I’ve put you through, but please—please don’t go.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought she was going to pull away. But then she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

“You’re such an idiot,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“I know.”

“You hurt me so much.”

“I know,” he said again, holding her tighter. “And I’m so, so sorry.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him. “What if this doesn’t work? What if we ruin everything?”

“It won’t,” he promised. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

She searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was sincerity and love.

So she kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, but then it deepened, and all the tension that had been building between them for years melted away.

When they finally pulled apart, Seungcheol rested his forehead against hers, smiling.

“Cancel the trip.”

“I already did,” she admitted, and he laughed softly, kissing her again.

————————————————————————————-

The next day, Seungcheol walked into the practice room with Y/N’s hand in his, and the members erupted into cheers.

“About time!” Seungkwan yelled.

“Finally!” Mingyu added, throwing his arms in the air.

Jeonghan just smirked, leaning back against the wall. “Told you.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop smiling as he looked at Y/N.

It had taken them years to get here.

But it was worth every second.

————————————————————————————

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FOUR ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: Alright this chapter is a little shorter than the other one's but the next few will be longer! We finally get to see the outcome of Azzi leaving 🫣. Please keep leaving comments and live reactions, they seriously make my day.

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

November 2023

Paige had tried calling Azzi that morning, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally pressed the call button. The phone didn’t even ring before going straight to voicemail. She frowned, trying again, only to be met with the same result.

Frustrated but not willing to give up just yet, Paige decided to try Caroline, figuring Azzi might have told her where she was or needed her help if she did go somewhere. But when Caroline answered, her tone was firm, almost apologetic. “Paige, I can’t tell you,” she said. “Azzi asked me not to.”

“Seriously, Caroline?” Paige snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. You’ll have to wait until she’s ready to talk to you, she just told me she needed to get away.”

Paige ended the call feeling even more irritated, a bitterness creeping into her chest. So she moped around the suite for the rest of the day, her phone always in hand, checking it incessantly. Every notification made her heart jump, only to have her disappointment and hurt settle deeper when she realized it wasn’t Azzi. At one point, desperate to get her mind off of things, Paige tried going to the gym. She pushed herself through a far too intense workout, hoping the burn in her muscles with each set would drown out the ache she felt in her chest, but it barely made a dent in her mood. 

By the next day, when she still hadn’t heard from Azzi, her frustration had morphed into something darker. She didn’t want to admit how much it hurt—how much Azzi’s absence left her feeling hollow and unsettled—so she did what she always did when she didn’t want to deal with her emotions.

She found someone else. 

The girl showed up that evening, and while Paige went through the motions, it was different this time. Her actions were almost mechanical, her words borderline cold. She made it clear from the beginning that this was just for sex, no strings attached, and she stuck to it. When they were done, there was no lingering, no casual conversation, no pretending like she would call her. Paige stood up from the bed and handed the girl her clothes without hesitation.

“You can go now,” she said casually, her tone devoid of any warmth, of any emotion at all for that matter.

The girl looked taken aback, but Paige didn’t care. By the time the door clicked shut behind the stranger, Paige was already strolling into the common area, her expression unreadable, acting as if nothing had happened.

This pattern repeated over the next two days, Paige’s encounters becoming increasingly detached and transactional. She barely even looked at the girls as they left, her mind elsewhere entirely.

Wherever Azzi had gone, the damage would already be done by the time she got back. Paige’s hurt had hardened into something sharper, and she wasn’t sure if she was angrier at Azzi for leaving or at herself for caring so much that she did. 

…

Azzi stepped into the suite late Monday night, three days after she had left, with her bag slung over one shoulder and a determined expression on her face. She was tired from traveling back from wherever she had been, but the weariness didn’t dill her resolve. She needed to talk to Paige. 

The sound of buttons being furiously pressed drew her attention to the couch, where Ice sat with her headphones on, deeply engrossed in the game in front of her. Azzi gave her a small nod as Ice looked up.

“Hey,” Ice greeted, briefly pausing the game.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, as she glanced toward Paige’s closed door.

Ice noticed the look on Azzi’s face and raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything at first. Azzi turned away, heading straight for Paige’s door. Her hand was already on the knob, ready to open it without knocking—something she’d done a hundred times before.

“I wouldn’t,” Ice said kind of frantically, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Azzi paused, glancing over her shoulder with a confused frown. “What?”

Ice leaned back on the couch, her game forgotten for the moment, and gave Azzi a serious look. “Just… trust me. Knock.”

Azzi hesitated, the unfamiliar warning sending a feeling of unease through her. Still, she trusted Ice enough to take her advice. So with a quick exhale, she knocked on the door.

For a few moments, there was only silence as she waited. Then the door swung open abruptly, and Azzi found herself face-to-face with Paige for the first time in days.

Paige stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, almost stoic. The usual warmth in her blue eyes was replaced by a cold detachment that sent a pang of guilt through Azzi’s chest. Azzi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, her gaze shifted past Paige to the girl lying on her bed.

The girl was half-covered by a blanket, her hair messy and her body language far too comfortable. When the sight hit Azzi she  immediately felt like she was about to throw up and whatever words she’d been about to say died in her throat as she just stood there.

Paige’s expression didn’t change, her blank eyes meeting Azzi’s as if daring her to react. “What?” Paige asked flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Azzi’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her hurt was too sharp, too raw to translate into words. Instead, she just stood there, stunned and speechless

Paige scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive, and without waiting for a response, she slammed the door in Azzi’s face.

Azzi stared at the closed door, still lingering as if she could somehow push through the moment. But the sight of Paige's expression and the girl on her bed played on a loop in her mind, each replay cutting deeper.

Ice watched the whole thing but didn’t say a word. She just watched Azzi, her usually teasing demeanor replaced by quiet concern. As Azzi turned away from the door, Ice’s gaze followed her retreat, but she made no move to intervene.

Azzi walked past Ice without meeting her eyes, her shoulders stiff, her thoughts racing with everything she had planned to say but couldn’t. Ice let her go, sinking back into the couch with a sigh, silently bracing herself for whatever fallout was brewing between the two. 

…

The tension that had settled between Paige and Azzi after that wasn’t just a passing thing. It was a slow burn, spreading through every practice and team event. For the past week and a half, everyone witnessed the shift. Nothing overly dramatic, nothing that caused an outright scene, but something was different. The chemistry that once seemed unshakable between Paige and Azzi had been replaced with an uncomfortable distance, one that made even the simplest things feel like obstacles. 

Nika and Aubrey worked tirelessly with one another in practice to offset the forced movements, calling plays and adjusting to shifts in defense. But the connection between Paige and Azzi was broken. The fluidity they had once shared was absent, and the team could feel it.

It wasn’t just the lack of contact between them at practice; it was the silence that filled the space between each word they exchanged. When Geno called out instructions or made them do something together, their responses were clipped, their focus seemingly more on avoiding the other than executing the plays.

Some of the team tried to pry, casual questions about how things were going between them, but each attempt was quickly shut down. Paige would just brush it off clipped comments that were emotionless, and Azzi wouldn’t say anything, simply turning away, her usual warmth replaced with a wall that many of them hadn’t seen before.

It wasn’t that Paige didn’t care—it was that she cared too much. She just didn’t know how to express it. She couldn’t even look at Azzi without feeling the ache in her chest, the gnawing sense of loss that had taken root after that morning when she woke up alone with no explanation. So, she continued to fill the void, as she always had. She barely even noticed the girls anymore, but she kept bringing them around, hoping that doing something, anything, might help drown out the silence between her and Azzi and stop the thoughts from swirling in her head.

She couldn’t quite articulate why she did it to the few teammates that asked—it wasn’t because she was interested in any of them and she definitely didn’t get anything from the exchanges. It was just that they provided a brief distraction her mind clawed at in desperation to ease the dullness she was feeling through her entire body. 

Each time Paige came home with a new girl in tow, Azzi’s irritation only deepened. She would be on the couch or in the kitchen, trying her best to remain composed, but the moment Paige walked through the door, it was as if the air shifted. Azzi’s eyes would narrow, her jaw tightening, and if she was already sitting, her posture would become rigid. Sometimes, if she was on the couch, she’d roll her eyes so dramatically that it seemed painful, the silent judgment lingering between them. She’d scoff under her breath, but never utter a word to Paige, as if silence alone could speak louder than anything she could say. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to confront Paige; it was just that the words never came.

The hurt was so clearly written on Azzi’s face every time, but Paige couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Her own heart was in too much turmoil to even care about whatever Azzi was feeling. The silence, while deafening, was easier than facing the rawness of everything they’d both been avoiding.

One morning, after another night spent at a girl’s house—another night of doing absolutely nothing this time around—Paige walked back into the suite, hoping to slip in unnoticed. Azzi was already in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. She didn’t look up when the door clicked open, but the second Paige stepped inside, Azzi’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Nice at least you had the decency to actually stay the night with this one.” Azzi’s words were sharp, her tone biting.

The comment hit Paige like a jab to the ribs, the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air between them. She froze in the doorway for a moment, the anger building in her chest before she exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing.

Paige’s voice was cold, her usual tone with Azzi these days. “You don’t really get to speak about that, considering your history Azzi.”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up, her expression twisted in confusion and irritation. “What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. “I’m not the one who’s sleeping with the entire campus.”

Paige scoffed, the sound bitter as she shook her head. “Niice let’s pull the whole Paige sleeps around card” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever Azzi.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

The silence that followed was harsh, until the faint shuffle of footsteps broke it. Ice stepped out of her room, brow furrowed as she took in the tension that had been hanging in the air. She glanced between Azzi and the door to Paige’s room, clearly concerned.

“What happened?” Ice asked, her voice low, but carrying the weight of her worry.

Azzi didn’t even look up, her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her. “Nothing. Just another day,” she said, brushing off Ice’s question, trying to sound indifferent.

Ice crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. “Azzi, come on. I heard the door slam. That’s not ‘nothing.’ What’s really going on?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “Ice it’s nothing I want to talk about, alright? Just drop it.”

Ice, who had spent days walking on eggshells around the two of them, wasn’t having it this time. She stepped forward, her expression soft but firm. “Look, Azzi, I get it. You two are in a rough spot right now. But I’m telling you, whatever you did to her you need to fix it.”

Azzi’s chest tightened at the implied accusation. She lifted her head, her tone defensive. “Why are you assuming I’m the problem here? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ice’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m just putting two and two together Az. Paige was the one drowning herself in drinks that night. I had to basically carry her up the stairs when we got here. The next morning she came looking for you and she’s been like this since then…so.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched as the words sank in, but she didn’t let herself show how much they were affecting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ice,” she muttered, eyes diverting from Ice’s gaze.

Ice let out a soft sigh, her frustration giving way to genuine concern. “Azzi You might not see it because you’re pissed at her right now or whatever, but you know Paige is the sweetest most selfless person we know. But whatever happened that night... it turned her into someone I don’t even recognize anymore. She just looks so sad or angry all the time and the few times she does crack a smile at someone it seems forced and out of obligation. That’s bigger than whatever argument you two are having. So please just fix it.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Ice’s words, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of guilt and doubt about what she should be feeling. But she quickly shut it down, unwilling to listen, unwilling to accept that maybe she had played a part in all of this. Her mind set on her version of events. “Like I said, it’s not my fault,” she said sharply, as though trying to convince herself.

Ice’s voice grew softer, really trying to get through to Azzi. “You know Paige would do anything for you. She’d turn the whole damn world upside down if it meant you would be happy, and I know you know that because you teased her about it all the damn time. But right now whatever is going on, whatever happened I can tell she feels like you’re just... another person she’s lost and you know how she gets in her head about stuff like that Azzi.”

Azzi froze at Ice’s words, her heart beating harder in her chest. A part of her wanted to believe it. A part of her knew just how much she meant to Paige, But the bitterness inside her that had to watch Paige go back to sleeping around with random girls like it was nothing refused to let go. So she shook her head, a hard look in her eyes. “Paige treats me like every other girl she gets bored with, Ice. I doubt she’s as broken up about us not talking as you think.”

Ice didn’t even react to Azzi’s words. She had seen enough to know that they weren’t true. “Come on, you don’t even believe that,” she said, her tone calm but pointed. “You know exactly how she feels–you’re just not ready to admit it.”

Azzi didn’t respond. Instead, she let out a small, frustrated sigh and walked toward her room, shutting the door behind her without another word.

…

Even though Paige and Azzi weren’t in the best place—both of them carrying an unmistakable anger toward one another—they still cared about each other more than anything in the world. It was like they were tethered by an invisible string, a constant pull that neither could escape. No matter how far they drifted, they always came back, surfacing for a quick breath of air when they knew the other needed it most before going back under.

That’s why, when Azzi’s birthday rolled around, Paige couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. She knew how much Azzi had been dreading this day. They spent hours talking about it one day during the summer, the time where they would spend everyday getting to know one another. Azzi was spending her birthday without her family for the first time. So it didn’t matter how hurt, angry, and confused Paige was; she couldn’t let the day pass without doing something.

Azzi stepped into her room, the quiet stillness pressing against her in a way she hadn’t expected. Birthdays had always been bittersweet, but this one felt heavier—emptier. She had tried not to think about it all day, pushing the pang of loneliness aside. No family. No big celebration. Just another busy day of her telling the team she didn't want to celebrate. 

Her gaze drifted toward her bed, and she stopped in her tracks. Sitting squarely on her pillow was a small, carefully wrapped box. The wrapping paper—adorned with the smiling faces of Elsa and Olaf—brought an involuntary laugh to her lips, soft and tinged with nostalgia. She knew instantly who it was from.

The memory of forcing Paige to watch Frozen—not once, but maybe 10 or so times—brought a bittersweet ache to Azzi’s chest. With a shaky breath, she walked over, picking up the box. The wrapping wasn’t perfect, corners slightly crumpled, but it was clearly Paige’s best effort. Azzi ran her fingers over it, a sad smile creeping onto her face.

She sat down on the bed, careful as she tore open the paper. Inside was a small jewelry box. When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Nestled in the box was a beautiful silver heart pendant, simple yet elegant, glinting softly in the light from her room.

Azzi’s fingers traced the smooth surface of the heart, her thoughts inevitably drifting to Paige. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, even the way she annoyed her most days– every detail of the blonde seemed to live in this small necklace. But her attention was soon drawn to the card that also rested on her pillow. Her chest tightened as she opened it, already bracing herself for what was inside.

The handwriting was unmistakably Paige’s—slightly messy but deliberate ‘Happy Birthday Az.’ But what truly made her breath hitch were all the signatures and words around. They were all from every single member of her family.

Tears welled up in Azzi’s eyes as she read the words they had written, her vision blurring. Paige had somehow managed to reach out to Azzi’s family—miles away—and have them all sign the card. She couldn’t even fathom how much effort Paige must have put into this, knowing how much it would mean to her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, until they came freely. She clutched the card to her chest, her emotions unraveling as she whispered into the empty room, “God, Paige… why can’t you just let me hate you for a minute.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, the walls they’d built between them seemed to crumble just a little. Even when they weren’t talking, Paige had cared enough to remind Azzi she wasn’t alone. With trembling hands, Azzi unclasped the necklace and slipped it around her neck, fastening it securely. The weight of it against her skin was both comforting and overwhelming. And that, more than anything, left Azzi completely destroyed.

Despite this, the silence that lingered between them stayed the same. Both of them were experiencing feelings they had never felt before and couldn't find it in themselves to talk to one another. No words seemed like enough to express just how broken each of them were, just how much they both felt.

There was a hesitance that lingered between them, like an invisible wall neither knew how to break down. Pride? Fear? Hurt? Maybe all of it at once. Conversations that used to flow so naturally now felt like a daunting task, weighed down by all the unsaid feelings and misunderstood actions. 

So, Paige and Azzi continued to exist in the same space, but their silence had become the loudest thing between them. The atmosphere in the apartment wasn’t as heavy but it still lingered and they both bore it in their own way. Paige had stopped bringing girls home, though it wasn’t out of any sense of compromise—more like resignation. They didn’t hold her attention, and it was more draining than anything to sit there and pretend to listen to whatever it was they had to say. The season kept her occupied, and though UConn had won their first two games, the chemistry between the players was strained. And it was clear to everyone—especially Paige and Azzi—that they were capable of so much more.

Then came the third game.

Despite the fact that UConn had won, Azzi played a game far beneath her usual standard. Missed shots. Bad decisions. A lack of the confidence that had once been her trademark. It wasn’t a total collapse, but it was jarring to watch it unfold. And everyone could feel it. The team had pulled through, but Azzi’s performance lingered in the air, like an unspoken question no one could answer.

Back in their shared suite, Azzi was isolated. She’d retreated to her room after the game, a rare moment when she didn’t have the usual fire in her eyes. The slow loss of her confidence throughout the game had been too much to handle, and as she scrolled through social media, the criticism rained down on her. The comments, the posts, the critiques—they all hit harder than they should have. The self-doubt crept in, overwhelming her. She knew she was better than this. She knew she could do better—but tonight, it felt like the world was telling her she couldn’t.

Paige, knowing exactly how much Azzi struggled with this kind of pressure knew Azzi would internalize it all, even when she shouldn't. So Once again coming up for a breath of fresh air even with the silence that lingered between them, Paige silently made her way to Azzi’s room, her hand reaching to open the door.

When she stepped inside, the sight of Azzi laying on her bed with her phone in hand, eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears, knocked the air out of her chest. Paige didn’t say a word. She simply moved toward Azzi, gently taking the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight her, didn’t protest, her hands too weak to stop Paige’s gentle movements. Paige locked the phone and set it aside before crawling under the covers next to her.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond. She kept her distance, staring at the pillow, her breathing shallow. Paige hesitated for just a moment before she carefully pulled Azzi on top of her, guiding her head to her chest. It was an unfamiliar gesture—but the silent bond they shared, the deep connection that tethered them to one another, made it feel like home the moment Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest. Paige rubbed slow, soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her hand tracing over the familiar patterns as Azzi finally gave in, burying her face deep against Paige’s chest as the tears began to flow freely.

The silence between them was thick, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything they couldn’t say. Azzi’s emotions—about the game, about herself, about everything she had been holding in—poured out in the form of quiet sobs. Paige didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just held her, feeling the warmth of Azzi’s body pressing against hers, reminding her of everything they still had, everything they could have.

As the time ticked by, Paige continued rubbing soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her touch slow and steady. The tension in Azzi’s body began to fade, her cries growing softer with each passing second. Paige could feel the weight lifting from Azzi’s shoulders, even if just a little, as she finally started to relax. Eventually, Azzi’s breathing evened out, slow and steady, and before long, the crying ceased altogether. The silence in the room deepened, and Paige felt Azzi’s body become still in her arms.

When Paige finally realized that Azzi had fallen asleep, her breath soft against Paige’s neck. Paige hesitated, a portion of her brain not wanting to disturb her, the other portion loving the way Azzi felt against her chest. But as much as she wanted to stay, to keep holding Azzi and never let go, she knew she had to leave. Slowly, carefully, Paige tried to extricate herself from Azzi’s grasp.

As she moved, Azzi, still in a deep sleep, unconsciously gripped onto Paige’s shirt, her hand clutching the fabric tightly, as if trying to keep her there. This made Paige’s heart ache. She could feel the pull of Azzi’s need, but as much as it hurt to tear herself away, Paige knew she couldn’t stay.

With a quiet sigh, Paige gently unwrapped Azzi’s hand from her shirt, and though every part of her wanted to stay in that bed, stay in that moment with Azzi, she slowly slipped out from under the covers. She stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at Azzi’s peaceful face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Azzi’s forehead. It was a kiss full of tenderness and care, an unspoken promise that, no matter how broken they were, there was still something between them that could be fixed.

She pulled away, her heart aching, and shut the door softly behind her.

As Paige walked toward her room, she caught sight of Ice standing in the hallway, her eyes immediately locking with Paige’s. The concern in Ice’s gaze was unmistakable, but it was the sadness in Paige’s blue eyes that struck her the hardest. Ice saw it. She saw how badly Paige was hurting, even if Paige was trying to hide it.

Without saying a word, Ice opened her arms, a silent offer of comfort. Paige hesitated for a moment, her chest tightening, before she reluctantly stepped into the embrace. She forced herself to hold it together, unwilling to break down in front of anyone. She stayed still, but her arms were stiff, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say to Azzi, but couldn’t.

Eventually, Paige pulled back, the hug lingering just a moment longer than she wanted, and gave Ice a weak smile, barely more than a fleeting, pained expression. Without another word, she walked past Ice, retreating into the quiet of her room.

…

After that night, the silence between Paige and Azzi clearly wasn’t one of anger anymore. It was much softer, filled with longing, a quiet understanding that neither of them could fully name. They missed each other. 

It started off slow. It went from both of them keeping their doors shut all day to them leaving them open. They would sit in the common area, not speaking, but neither one of them moving to leave. It was as if the space between them was hanging on a delicate balance, each of them too cautious to disturb it. 

Paige would catch glimpses of Azzi absentmindedly playing with the necklace she had given her, the one she only took off for games and practices now. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes. Every time Paige saw it, a slight smile would tug at her lips. 

They both had waved the white flag, they just didn’t know how to break the silence. 

Paige now sat on the edge of Nika’s bed, her hands pressed into her lap, fingers twitching with restless energy. She couldn’t meet Nika’s eyes, even as her twin studied her with a knowing gaze as she was trying to get Paige to finally talk about what happened. 

“Paige,” Nika said again softly, her voice a calm counterpoint to the hecticness that had been brewing inside of Paige. “I know something’s been bothering you. It’s been weeks, just talk to me so we can figure it out.” 

Paige just shrugged, eyes flicking to the window as if the answer could be found in the dull gray light outside. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, Nika.”

But Nika wasn’t convinced. Besides Azzi she knew Paige better than anyone, knew the signs when Paige was holding something in. This wasn’t the usual “I’m fine.” This was different—subdued, like Paige was a thread stretched too thin, about to break.

“Paige,” Nika insisted, her voice softer now, “stop shutting me out. I can tell something’s been going on with you. We’ve been through too much together for you to hide it from me.”

Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to the floor. There was a tremor in her chest, and she fought to keep it contained. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to let anyone see the cracks in her armor just yet. 

Nika didn’t push too hard, but she didn’t let up either. She sat down next to Paige, close enough that the warmth of her body was a quiet comfort. “Come on,” Nika coaxed, her voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not fooling anyone anymore. Definitely even me.”

Paige exhaled sharply, then, almost as if the words had been building up in her chest for too long, she whispered, “We slept together.”

Nika blinked, not sure if she’d heard her correctly. She tilted her head, voice steady but curious. “What? Who?”

Paige’s gaze snapped to the floor, her throat tightening as she repeated it, a little louder this time. “Azzi. Me and Azzi…we slept together.”

Nika absorbed the words, the weight of them sinking in slowly. She had seen the chemistry between Paige and Azzi for a while now, had seen the way they glanced at each other, the quiet touches when they thought no one was watching. It wasn’t surprising, exactly, but hearing Paige admit it was different.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Nika said, voice soft but not judgmental. “Why is that a bad thing? It should be good, right?”

The question hung in the air, and that was when it happened. A single tear, slow and hesitant, escaped from Paige’s eye, tracing a path down her cheek; because yes, it should’ve been good. It should’ve been amazing. Paige’s hand instinctively went to her face, as if trying to catch the tear, but she couldn’t stop it. She felt it—felt everything—the confusion, the hurt, the abandonment all spilling over in that one small, silent tear.

Paige’s chest tightened, her breath catching as her walls finally crumbled in the quiet of Nika’s room. “She was gone the next day,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The words felt like rocks in her mouth, heavy and painful. “She... she just left me. When I woke up, she was gone.”

The floodgates opened then, the words pouring out faster than she could contain them. Her shoulders shook as another tear slipped free, and then another, until the tears were flowing in uninvited yet unstoppable. Paige’s chest heaved as the weight of it continued to press down on her, the pain she had been holding in finally spewing out. 

Nika didn’t say anything at first. She simply reached out, pulling Paige into her arms with a tenderness that only she could offer. 

“It’ll be okay, twin,” Nika whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’ll be okay.”

Paige couldn’t answer. She could only let herself break, the sobs wracking her body as Nika held her close, whispering assurances over and over again. The comfort of Nika’s arms right now was the only thing that kept Paige from completely losing herself to the turmoil inside her, she missed Azzi so much.

After a while she fell asleep in Nika’s bed, the weight of her emotions finally easing in the stillness of the room.

Nika didn’t disturb her. She let Paige sleep, knowing how much she needed the rest. After a few minutes, Nika gently moved away from the bed, making sure not to wake her. She grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby desk and scribbled down a quick note:

Wanted to let you sleep. Text me if you need anything. I'll be around. -Twin

With a soft sigh, Nika placed the note on the pillow next to Paige before she quietly exited the room.

The rest of the suite felt too quiet as Nika walked to the common area, her mind racing trying to figure out how to fix the situation. She needed to do something. There was only so much she could do by offering comfort. She needed to handle the bigger picture. 

She pulled out her phone, her fingers moving with purpose. Within seconds, she created a group chat with the rest of the team, making sure Paige and Azzi weren’t included. The message was simple:

Team meeting in 20 minutes. Can’t be in my suite.

[wolvietxt]

Could you do Logan Howlett + priorities in the miscommunication prompt? ❤️

one character believes the other is prioritizing someone else over them, feeling hurt and neglected. after a heartfelt confrontation, the other explains their actions, and they find comfort in understanding their connection remains just as strong.

LOGAN had always been hard to read, his gruff exterior a carefully constructed wall that rarely came down. you’d learned to navigate it, to understand the subtle shifts in his tone and the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he allowed you to see. but lately, it felt like those moments had vanished altogether.

every time you tried to talk to him, he seemed preoccupied, his focus drawn to someone or something else. it wasn’t unusual for jean to need his help - her calm presence often balanced his rough edges - but it felt different this time. more constant, more consuming. and no matter how much you tried to push the thought away, the knot in your chest grew tighter with each passing day.

that evening, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. the quiet buzz of the mansion surrounded you, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment logan had walked past you without so much as a glance, every time his voice softened when speaking to jean in a way it hadn’t with you recently.

“what’s eatin’ ya?”

the gravelly voice startled you, and you turned to see logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. his brow was furrowed, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of concern that made your throat tighten.

“nothing,” you muttered, looking away. “just tired.”

“ain’t buyin’ that.” he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the tiled floor. “been quiet lately. somethin’ happen?”

his tone was genuine, but the frustration bubbling beneath your skin refused to be ignored. you set the mug down with more force than necessary, the clink echoing in the room.

“maybe you should ask jean,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” you said, turning to face him fully, “that you’ve been spending more time with her than with me. it’s like i’m not even here anymore.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “jean needed help with some stuff. ain’t nothin’ more than that.”

“it doesn’t feel like nothing,” you said, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “every time i turn around, you’re with her. and i get it, logan. she’s… she’s amazing. but it hurts, okay? it feels like you’d rather be with her than with me.”

his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stepped closer. “that ain’t true,” he said quietly. “jean… she’s been strugglin’ with some things. i was just tryin’ to help her out.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” the question came out as a whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support. “why do you always shut me out?”

logan exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor. “guess i didn’t wanna burden ya. you’ve got enough on your plate without me addin’ to it.”

“so instead, you made me feel like i wasn’t enough,” you said, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. “logan, ‘m here for you. i want to be here for you. but i can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

he looked up, and for the first time in days, you saw a crack in his armor. his expression was a mix of regret and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words gruff but sincere. “you’re right. i shoulda told ya what was goin’ on instead of makin’ ya feel like this. it ain’t fair to ya.”

you blinked, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “i just… i just needed to know i wasn’t losing you.”

he closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gently gripping your arms as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “you ain’t losin’ me,” he said firmly. “that’s the last damn thing that’ll ever happen.”

the sincerity in his voice, the way his fingers curled slightly as if afraid you’d pull away, broke through the last of your defenses. you let out a shaky breath, leaning into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, solid and reassuring.

“i’m sorry too,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt. “for assuming the worst.”

“nah,” he said, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “you had every right to call me out. i’ve been actin’ like a damn fool.”

you let out a small laugh, the tension in your chest easing as his hand traced soothing circles along your back. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting.

“next time,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him, “promise me you’ll talk to me. no more shutting me out.”

his lips quirked into a faint smile, one that reached his eyes. “promise.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple, lingering there for a moment as if grounding himself in your presence. the gesture was simple but full of meaning, a silent reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of misunderstanding finally lifting. and though the road ahead might still have its bumps, you knew you’d face them together - no walls, no secrets, just the unshakable bond that held you both steady.

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[0omillo0]

Your fics are so good literally I check this place every day. I would mainline skz angst fics if I could. Angst/hurt/comfort PLEASE. Hyunjin one where reader was in an abusive relationship in the past and they get into an argument that was really miscommunication and Hyunjin like, doesn’t raise his fists but like turns around fast or something and spooks reader and they run off, no phone no keys no nothing. Pure flight mode.

Hyunjin x reader ; angst -> comfort

warnings: abusive ex, mention of fighting

a/n: I’ve FINALLY finished school I’m so tired, but I’m happy I can write all your requests now! (thank you xoxo). also thank you for requesting this! It’s the same problem I have so it was comforting writing this

•

It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault.

You kept telling yourself that, repeating it silently, like a mantra, as the tension between you both began to rise. The words in your head sounded steady, but your body didn’t believe them. The weight pressing on your chest grew heavier with each exchanged word, with every flicker of frustration in his voice.

Hyunjin was nothing like him.

But no matter how hard you tried, the past didn’t stay buried.

Your ex had turned arguments into weapons. He had wielded raised voices like shackles, holding you captive. Apologies had come like clockwork after the damage was done, hollow promises that nothing would change. It had taken years to leave—years to find your way out of the cycle. And when you met Hyunjin, with his kind heart and gentle soul, you’d believed healing was possible.

You wanted so desperately to believe it.

The argument started over something small, something so inconsequential you barely remembered how it had begun. You’d mentioned the groceries—how there were none left at home—and he had bristled.

“I can’t do everything, Y/N,” he said sharply, barely glancing up from where he stood at the counter, his voice carrying an edge that made you pause.

It took a moment for you to respond. “I didn’t say you had to. I was just—”

“You were just what?” He turned then, meeting your gaze with frustration flickering in his dark eyes. “Pointing out another thing I forgot? Adding it to the list?”

The words hit you like a wave, unsteadying your footing. Your heart sank as you studied his expression.

“That’s not fair,” you said quietly, your tone cautious now. “I wasn’t trying to blame you for anything.”

“Well, it sure sounded like it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice lower now but no less biting.

You took a step forward, something twisting painfully inside you. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. You hated the tremor that betrayed you, hated that you already felt like you were losing control.

“I’m not acting like anything!” he shot back, his voice louder now, filling the space between you. “Why do you always have to push? Why can’t you just let things go?”

“Because I care about you, Hyunjin! I care when you’re upset, and I don’t know why you won’t just tell me what’s wrong!”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he turned his head, shaking it in disbelief. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Did you think of that?”

The words cut deeper than you expected, the sharpness in his tone stealing the air from your lungs.

“I’m just trying to help—”

“Well, maybe I don’t need your help!” he interrupted, his voice breaking into a shout.

You flinched at the sound, the echo of it slamming into you like a freight train. Your heart was pounding now, your breath coming shorter. Your feet shuffled backward, almost on instinct, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“God, you act like you need to fix everything,” he continued, his frustration spilling out unchecked. “Like you need to fix me.”

Your breath hitched, and the room around you seemed to shift. For a moment, Hyunjin’s voice wasn’t his—it was someone else’s. Someone whose words were weapons. Someone who’d told you time and time again that you were the problem.

“I don’t want to fix you,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to steady yourself. “I just want to understand.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need you to understand!” His voice broke again, louder this time, frustration and exhaustion tangled together in every syllable.

And then it happened.

Hyunjin turned sharply, his hand flying up to rake through his hair in agitation. The movement was sudden, unintentional, but your body didn’t care. Your mind didn’t stop to think.

You ran.

You didn’t even remember the door slamming behind you, your bare feet hitting the pavement as you fled into the cold night air.

The streets blurred as you moved, the echo of his voice—louder, sharper than you’d ever heard it—ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, your breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. You didn’t stop to grab your keys or your phone. You didn’t stop to think about where you were going.

The only thought in your mind was to escape.

The cold pavement stung your feet, but you barely felt it. The thin fabric of your shirt did nothing to shield you from the biting wind, but you didn’t care. The fear clawing at your chest was louder than anything else.

You didn’t stop until your legs gave out beneath you, your body collapsing onto a park bench in the middle of nowhere. The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths.

You curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as tears spilled down your face. The trembling in your hands wouldn’t stop, no matter how tightly you clutched at your arms.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice breaking between sobs. “He’s not like that. He’d never—”

But the fear wouldn’t let go.

When Hyunjin realized you were gone, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. The door was ajar, swaying slightly in the wind. The apartment felt empty without you there.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice laced with panic as he grabbed his coat and bolted into the night.

He searched everywhere he could think of: the café you loved, the little bookstore down the street, the convenience store on the corner.

But you weren’t there.

He called your name again and again, his voice growing hoarse as the minutes dragged on.

And then he saw you.

You were curled up on a bench beneath a flickering streetlight, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Y/N!” he shouted, relief and guilt flooding his chest as he ran toward you.

Your head snapped up, your tear-streaked face locking onto his. For a moment, you tensed, your body shrinking back as if to protect itself.

“It’s me,” he said softly, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s just me.”

He approached slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of you. “Can I come closer?”

You nodded after a moment, your breaths shaky.

He knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly before he reached out to place his coat over your trembling shoulders. “You’re freezing,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not your fault,” you cut in, your voice barely audible. “I panicked. It’s—it’s my past. I just…” You couldn’t finish, fresh tears spilling over.

Hyunjin reached for your hands, his own trembling as he held them gently. “I don’t care how long it takes, or what it takes—I’ll do whatever I need to so you feel safe again. Please, just let me take you home.”

The apartment felt warmer when you returned, but you still shivered beneath the blanket Hyunjin had wrapped around you. He made tea in silence, his movements slow and careful, as if afraid to startle you.

When he finally sat beside you, he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“I want to know,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I want to understand what you’ve been through. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But when you saw the worry in his eyes, the love that hadn’t wavered despite everything, you told him.

You told him everything.

Hyunjin listened without interrupting, his hands gripping yours tightly.

“I’ll never raise my voice like that again,” he said when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll never make you feel unsafe. I swear.”

You nodded, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you. You let yourself believe him.

tags: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght

[mywhisperingwords]

never will be | fred g. weasley

summary: if one more person called fred your boyfriend, you were going to hex them—and then probably yourself for wishing it were true word count: 5.8k masterlist

“Seriously, though,” Angelina said, leaning against the Gryffindor common room sofa with a sly grin, “when are you two finally going to admit it?”

“Admit what?” Fred asked, looking up from the deck of Exploding Snap cards he was shuffling.

“That you’re dating,” George chimed in from across the room, tossing a chocolate frog wrapper into the fire.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “For the hundredth time, we’re not dating.”

“Not yet, at least,” Angelina muttered, smirking at you.

Fred laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just bored and trying to start drama.”

George snorted. “Says the bloke who can’t go two hours without dragging her off to help with one of his pranks.”

“That’s because she’s got steady hands,” Fred argued, flashing you a grin that made your stomach flip. “Best partner-in-crime I could ask for.”

“Mm-hmm,” George said, exchanging a knowing look with Angelina.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but forced a casual laugh. “Exactly. Partners-in-crime. Nothing more.”

Fred’s grin widened, oblivious to the way your voice faltered on the last words.

Later that evening, as you sat in your usual spot in the common room, Fred plopped down beside you, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

George and Angelina had finally left you alone, their laughter about your so-called “relationship” fading into the background.

Fred tossed a bright green bean into the air, catching it in his mouth. “Honestly, they’re relentless. Next thing you know, they’ll be planning our wedding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, definitely. George would insist on fireworks during the vows.”

“And Angelina would probably hex the cake to explode in my face,” Fred added, grinning.

“Not that you wouldn’t deserve it,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

Fred gasped dramatically. “Me? Deserve it? Please, I’d be the perfect groom. You, on the other hand…”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

Fred smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You’d probably spend the entire ceremony arguing with me about the flowers or the seating arrangements.”

“Only because you’d insist on something ridiculous, like having a Quidditch match instead of a reception,” you shot back, laughing.

“See? Proves my point,” Fred said, throwing another bean into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. The conversation was silly, but it sent a pang through your chest all the same. For a moment, you wondered—what if it weren’t so ridiculous? What if you weren’t just friends?

“Guess it’s a good thing we’d never actually be a couple,” you said lightly, testing the waters.

Fred snorted, not catching the slight hesitation in your voice. “You’ve got that right. Can you imagine? We’d probably kill each other within a week.”

Your smile faltered for a split second, but you quickly recovered, laughing along with him. “True. It would be a disaster.”

“An entertaining one, though,” Fred added, grinning at you.

You laughed again, but the ache in your chest lingered as his words played over in your mind. A disaster.

Fred, oblivious, tossed the box of beans onto the table and stretched his arms over his head. “Anyway, who needs all that relationship nonsense? We’re better off just being us.”

“Right,” you said softly, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “Just us.”

But as you watched Fred lean back, his expression carefree and content, you made a silent decision.

It was time to stop hoping for something that would never happen. It was time to move on.

A couple days later, Fred dropped into the seat next to you in the common room, his typical big grin directed at you. “Fancy sneaking out to the kitchens? I was thinking a snack, but maybe we could even go for a full-course meal if the house-elves are feeling generous.”

You didn’t look up from your book, keeping your voice steady. “Can’t. I’ve got plans tonight.”

Fred tilted his head, frowning. “Plans? With who?”

“Just plans,” you said vaguely, flipping a page.

Fred narrowed his eyes, studying you for a moment, but you didn’t elaborate. Eventually, he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Your loss. More food for me.”

You hummed noncommittally, keeping your gaze fixed on the words in front of you.

Later that evening, Fred was sprawled on the sofa near the fire, George and Lee arguing over a card game beside him. Angelina sauntered in, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

“Oi, Ang,” Fred called, waving her over. “What’s she up to tonight?”

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know who. She said she had plans.”

Angelina hesitated for half a second before smirking. “She’s got a date.”

Fred blinked, the words not registering immediately. “A date?”

“Yeah,” Angelina said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “With that bloke from Ravenclaw—what’s his name? Aaron? Aiden?”

“Andrew,” George supplied helpfully, grinning.

“Right. Andrew,” Angelina said, crossing her arms. “Apparently, he’s been asking her out for ages, and she finally said yes.”

Fred frowned, a strange tightness forming in his chest. “Huh.”

George glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Fred?”

“No,” Fred said quickly, shaking his head. “Why would there be?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, who raised an amused eyebrow. But neither of them said anything, much to Fred’s relief.

Meanwhile you were trying your best to focus on Andrew as he told you about his latest Quidditch practice. He was charming, handsome, and undeniably kind. Exactly the type of person you should be going out with.

But as much as you tried to stay engaged, your mind kept wandering. His laugh wasn’t quite as infectious. His jokes weren’t quite as sharp. And when he leaned in slightly to brush his hand against yours, your chest didn’t flutter the way you wanted it to.

You forced a smile, reminding yourself why you were here. Andrew had always been good to you, and after Fred’s clear rejection, it was time to stop holding onto something that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you alright?” Andrew asked, his voice soft as he studied your face.

“Yes,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Sorry, just a bit distracted. It’s been a long week.”

Andrew smiled, his eyes warm. “I get it. I’m glad you said yes, though. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

You felt a pang of guilt but managed another smile. “Me too.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Andrew deserved a chance, and you were determined to give it to him.

Still, as the evening wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder what Fred was doing. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thought that you wished he were sitting across from you instead.

You had done your best to steer clear of Fred over the past few days. You weren’t sure why, if someone dared to ask. Maybe you wanted to avoid telling him about your date or maybe talking to Fred would force you to acknowledge that moving on was harder than you thought.

It wasn’t easy, avoiding Fred, considering he had a knack for showing up everywhere you didn’t want him to be.

And, naturally, today was no exception.

“Oi!” Fred’s voice rang out from behind you as you made your way down the hallway after class. “Wait up!”

You considered pretending not to hear him, but the sound of his footsteps catching up told you there was no escaping this time.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside you. His usual grin was in place, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Haven’t seen much of you lately. Been avoiding me or something?”

You gave a half-hearted laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just… busy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Busy with what? Or should I say who?”

Your stomach twisted at the question, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Angelina mentioned you went on a date,” Fred said, his tone light and teasing, though his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. “Figured you’d be too busy swooning over this Andrew bloke to hang out with your real friends.”

You rolled your eyes, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. “It was just a date, Fred. No swooning involved.”

Fred tilted his head, studying you. “Come on. Spill. What’s he like? Is he as funny as me? Doubt it.”

You hesitated, your heart hammering as you searched his face for any hint of jealousy, any sign that this conversation bothered him. But Fred’s grin was firmly in place, his tone casual and carefree.

“He’s nice,” you said finally, keeping your voice even. “Really nice.”

Fred’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before returning. “Nice, huh? That’s a glowing review.”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” Fred said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe that he’s secretly boring or has terrible taste in music. Something I can mock him for.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, but it quickly faded as the tension in your chest tightened.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Well, if he’s so bloody great, maybe we should invite him to hang out with us sometime.”

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. “Are you serious?”

Fred shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Why not? He could use a proper Weasley test. See if he can keep up.”

You shook your head, muttering under your breath. “You’re impossible.”

Fred watched you closely, his grin slipping just enough to reveal the confusion beneath it. He didn’t know why the thought of you with Andrew left a sour taste in his mouth, but he was determined to ignore it.

Maybe it was just because he didn’t know the guy. Or because he didn’t want to lose his favorite partner-in-crime to some bloke from Ravenclaw. That had to be it.

Definitely not because he cared more than he should.

&

The common room buzzed with its usual post-dinner chaos. Fred was in his element, loudly challenging George to an Exploding Snap rematch after a questionable loss earlier, when you walked in with Andrew.

Fred’s laughter faltered for half a second, but he quickly covered it up with a grin. “Well, well, look who decided to join us. Ravenclaw royalty.”

“Hi, Fred,” you said, your voice neutral but carrying an edge of warning.

Andrew smiled politely, clearly unfazed. “Hey. I thought I’d take you up on your offer to hang out.”

“Brave of you,” Fred quipped, gesturing to the chaos around him. “We’re not exactly Ravenclaw standards of refined.”

Andrew chuckled. “I can handle it.”

George appeared beside Fred, grinning broadly. “Andrew, right? You’re the Quidditch guy. Chaser, yeah?”

“That’s me,” Andrew said, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Always nice to have another flyer in the group,” George said, clapping him on the back. “Ignore Fred if he gets too annoying.”

“Oi!” Fred protested, but George was already leading Andrew to the sofa, chatting about brooms and game strategies.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Play nice,” you muttered as you passed Fred, taking a seat near Angelina and Lee.

Fred watched as Andrew settled into the group, answering questions and laughing at everyone’s jokes with ease. His jaw tightened when Angelina leaned over to whisper, “He’s charming, isn’t he?”

“Sure,” Fred said, his voice flat.

An hour later, everyone seemed to be getting along swimmingly—except Fred.

He wasn’t outright rude to Andrew, but his usual teasing had a sharper edge tonight. Every time Andrew spoke, Fred had a quick quip or an exaggerated eye roll.

When Andrew mentioned his house winning the latest match, Fred chimed in with, “Ravenclaw’s strategy, isn’t it? Win the game, lose the fun.”

George elbowed Fred, but Andrew only laughed. “We take Quidditch seriously. Some of us, at least.”

Fred grinned tightly. “Right. Because fun has no place in sports.”

“Okay,” you interjected, cutting through the growing tension. “Who wants snacks? I’ll get some from the kitchens.”

“I’ll help,” Andrew offered, standing up.

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Fred before nodding. “Sure. Let’s go.”

After you and Andrew left the common room, Fred slumped back into his chair, muttering something under his breath.

“What’s your problem?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Problem? I don’t have a problem,” Fred said quickly.

“Sure you don’t,” Angelina said, smirking as she leaned against the armrest. “You’re only acting like a jealous git.”

Fred scoffed. “Jealous? Please. I just think he’s boring.”

George chuckled. “Yeah, he’s awful. Friendly, charming, loves Quidditch—how dare he?”

Fred scowled but didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the door you’d just walked through.

When you and Andrew returned, the evening had mostly calmed down. Fred kept to himself, though his eyes followed you whenever you weren’t looking.

As the group began to disband for the night, Andrew turned to you, his smile warm and easy. “I had a great time the other night. Do you think you’d want to do it again? Soon?”

Fred’s head snapped up at Andrew’s words, but he quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with his deck of cards.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering to Fred for just a moment. His usual grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and averted eyes. Ignoring him and the little voice in the back of your mind, you turned back to Andrew.

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that.”

Andrew’s grin widened. “Great. I’ll find you tomorrow to figure out the details.”

You nodded, and as Andrew left, you glanced back at Fred one last time. He was shuffling his cards with unnecessary force, avoiding your gaze entirely. Weird.

Over the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Andrew began to take shape. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life.

He wasn’t overly pushy or demanding, which you appreciated, and he had a way of making you laugh—though not quite as effortlessly as Fred could.

Still, it felt nice to have someone show genuine interest in you, even if the spark you were hoping for wasn’t quite there yet.

Of course, Andrew didn’t just win you over—he charmed everyone.

“Well, he’s bloody polite,” George said one evening after Andrew left the common room. “And he brought snacks. Can’t argue with that.”

Angelina nodded in agreement. “He’s sweet. You picked a good one.”

“Of course she did,” Fred muttered, slumping lower in his chair.

Lee gave Fred a side-eye. “You alright, mate? You’ve been acting off lately.”

“I’m fine,” Fred said quickly, grabbing a deck of cards and shuffling them with unnecessary vigor. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lee raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.

The thing was, Fred wasn’t fine.

He didn’t know what it was about Andrew that rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was how the bloke always seemed to be around now, sitting beside you in the common room or leaning in too close when you laughed at one of his jokes.

Fred told himself it was just the newness of it all. You’d always been his person—his partner-in-crime, his go-to for pranks, his late-night snack accomplice. And now Andrew was stealing you away.

It was irritating.

But Fred wasn’t jealous. Definitely not.

One afternoon, the group decided to head down to the lake to take advantage of the rare sunny weather.

Andrew and George carried the food, Angelina and Lee brought the blankets, and you walked ahead with Fred, your pace slowing as you chatted.

“So,” Fred said casually, kicking a stone along the path, “how’s Prince Charming?”

You gave him a look. “He has a name, you know.”

“Right. Andy.”

“Andrew,” you corrected, rolling your eyes.

“Same thing,” Fred said with a shrug.

You sighed. “He’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Fred said, though his tone was anything but casual. “Just wondering how long he plans to stick around.”

“Why? You planning to scare him off?” you asked, your voice teasing but laced with curiosity.

Fred grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before you could respond, Andrew called your name from behind, jogging to catch up with you.

Fred fell silent, his jaw tightening as Andrew slipped into step beside you, his hand brushing yours as he walked.

By the time you reached the lake, Fred was thoroughly annoyed.

As everyone settled on the blankets, Andrew took the spot beside you, leaning close to whisper something that made you laugh. Fred sat across from you, stabbing at his sandwich with unnecessary force.

“You alright there, Fred?” Angelina asked, nudging him with her foot.

“Fine,” Fred said tightly, taking an aggressive bite.

George smirked. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully bothered.”

Fred glared at his twin but said nothing.

As the sun began to set, Andrew offered to walk you back to the castle, and you accepted with a smile. Fred watched the two of you leave, his chest tightening as your laughter faded into the distance.

“Mate,” George said, clapping Fred on the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad.”

Fred scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” George said with a knowing grin.

If there was one thing Fred Weasley prided himself on, it was his ability to remain unshakable. Cool under pressure. Steady in the face of chaos.

Except, apparently, when Andrew was around.

“I’m just saying,” Fred declared loudly, leaning back in his chair with the kind of dramatic flair that immediately drew everyone’s attention, “no one is that nice. It’s suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Angelina repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Fred said, gesturing wildly as if this were common knowledge. “No one can laugh at every single joke. Even George’s bad ones.”

“Oi!” George protested, though he was grinning. “My jokes are masterpieces.”

Andrew, seated comfortably next to you, chuckled. “I don’t know, George. That one about the Blast-Ended Skrewts last week was a bit of a stretch.”

Fred’s eyes narrowed. “See? Right there. He’s even polite when he’s being critical. Who does that?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Fred, are you really mad because Andrew is nice?”

“I’m not mad!” Fred insisted, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I’m just… observant. He’s too nice. It’s unnatural.”

“Fred,” Lee said, struggling to keep a straight face, “I think you might be allergic to decent human behavior.”

The group erupted in laughter, and for a moment, even you couldn’t hide your amusement. But Fred wasn’t done yet.

“Mark my words,” Fred continued, pointing dramatically at Andrew, “this whole ‘charming and perfect’ act is going to crack one day. And when it does—”

Andrew held up his hands, laughing lightly. “Alright, you’ve got me. I’ll admit it: I burned toast once. Twice, actually. Sometimes I even leave the cap off the toothpaste.”

“Oh, the horror,” Lee said, clutching his chest mockingly. “Fred, are you sure we’re safe in his presence?”

Fred scowled, muttering something under his breath.

You shot him a look, your patience wearing thin. “Fred, if you’re so bothered by something, maybe you should do something about it.”

Fred blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in your tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, standing to grab a glass of water. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Fred watched you leave the room, the weight of your words settling uncomfortably in his chest.

“What’s her problem?” he muttered, glancing at the others.

Angelina snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

Fred frowned. “What?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, barely containing his laughter. “Oh, nothing,” George said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you acting like a jealous prat every time Andrew breathes in her direction.”

“I’m not jealous!” Fred shot back, his voice a little too loud.

“Sure you’re not,” Lee said, patting him on the shoulder.

Angelina leaned forward, her smirk practically glowing. “Fred, has it ever occurred to you that you’re not mad at Andrew? You’re mad because he’s with her, and you’re not.”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He shut it again, glaring at the lot of them as they burst into laughter.

“Honestly,” George said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen Blast-Ended Skrewts with more self-awareness.”

Fred groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all useless,” he muttered.

“Hey, we’re just here to point out the obvious,” Lee said with a grin. “The rest is up to you, lover boy.”

&

The Three Broomsticks was warm and bustling with chatter, the kind of lively atmosphere that could distract anyone from their troubles.

Fred leaned back in his chair, nursing a mug of butterbeer, and let the noise wash over him.

It had been weeks since he’d felt this at ease. For once, he wasn’t thinking about Andrew or the way he seemed to occupy every spare moment of your time.

Because, for the first time in a long while, it was just the group—George, Lee, Angelina, you, and him—laughing, joking, and bickering like always. And with you sitting across from him, grinning over the rim of your butterbeer as you teased George about his latest failed prank, Fred felt… content.

Comfortable. Like everything was back to normal.

But then the door to the pub opened, letting in a gust of cold air and a familiar figure.

Fred’s stomach twisted the moment he saw Andrew.

“Hey, everyone,” Andrew said, his smile easy and confident as he approached the table.

Fred tried to focus on his drink, on George cracking a joke, on literally anything else—but then Andrew leaned down, his hand brushing your shoulder, and kissed you.

It wasn’t long, just a brief, casual kiss on the lips, but it might as well have been a Bludger to Fred’s chest.

The laughter at the table carried on, the others welcoming Andrew like they always did, but Fred barely heard a word. His mind was spinning, his heart racing, and for the first time, he couldn’t keep up the denial.

It wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just protectiveness.

It was jealousy.

Pure, undeniable jealousy.

And it wasn’t just because Andrew had you—it was because Fred wanted you.

The realization hit him like a brick wall. Every time you laughed at Andrew’s jokes, every time you brushed his hand with yours, every time you smiled at him with that soft, affectionate look in your eyes—it burned.

Because Fred wanted to be the one making you laugh, holding your hand, earning your smiles.

But it wasn’t him. And now, sitting here, watching Andrew slide into the seat beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair, Fred finally understood why it hurt so much.

&

Fred paced the length of the Gryffindor common room like a man possessed, his hands raking through his hair as George, Angelina, and Lee lounged on the sofa, watching with varying degrees of amusement.

“She kissed him,” Fred muttered for the fiftieth time, his voice tinged with both disbelief and frustration.

“Yes, Fred,” Angelina said patiently, not bothering to hide her smirk. “We were all there. You don’t need to recap.”

“But—” Fred turned on his heel, his expression wild. “How did I not see it before? How did none of you tell me?”

George snorted. “Mate, we’ve been dropping hints for years. You’re just thick.”

“Excuse me?” Fred stopped pacing long enough to glare at his twin.

Lee chimed in, grinning. “He’s right, you know. It’s been painfully obvious to everyone but you. Honestly, we were starting to think you’d never figure it out.”

Fred groaned, collapsing into a chair and burying his face in his hands. “What am I supposed to do now? She’s happy with Andrew. I can’t just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You could do nothing,” Angelina suggested, crossing her arms. “Let her be happy. Maybe keep your mouth shut for once in your life.”

Fred glared at her. “Thanks for the support, Ang. Really helpful.”

“I’m just saying,” Angelina continued, shrugging. “If you care about her, maybe you don’t ruin things for her. It’s not about you, Fred.”

George tilted his head. “Or—and hear me out—you could tell her how you feel and let her decide.”

Lee grinned. “Or—and this is my favorite option—you stage an elaborate prank to scare off Andrew, then swoop in as the knight in shining armor.”

Fred groaned again, throwing his head back against the chair. “You’re all useless.”

“Hey, I’m giving you options,” Lee said defensively.

“Yeah,” George added. “And Angelina’s just saying what she’d do if she were you. Personally, I think you should grow a pair and tell her the truth.”

Fred shot him a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Angelina said, her tone softer now. “But you’ve got to figure it out, Fred. Otherwise, you’re just going to keep driving yourself—and the rest of us—mad.”

The sound of the portrait hole opening drew their attention, and there you were, stepping inside with your bag slung over one shoulder and a slight frown on your face.

Fred’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately sat up straighter, trying to look normal—which, of course, only made him look even more suspicious.

“Everything okay?” you asked, glancing between the group and Fred’s suspiciously guilty expression.

“Fine!” Fred said quickly, his voice a little too loud.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push, instead walking over to your usual spot by the fire. You dropped your bag on the floor and pulled out a stack of parchment, rifling through it with a small, frustrated sigh.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off you. It wasn’t anything special—just you being you—but the way your hair caught the firelight, the tiny furrow in your brow as you concentrated, the way you bit your lip when something didn’t go right…

In that moment, Fred knew.

Knew that no one else would ever make him feel the way you did. Knew that no one else would ever measure up to you. Knew that he couldn’t keep this to himself anymore.

Now he just had to figure out how to tell you.

“Merlin, he’s gone,” George muttered, nudging Angelina. “Look at him.”

Fred ignored them, his mind racing as he tried to think of something—anything—to say. But for once in his life, words failed him.

Fred had never been one to overthink things. Usually, he went with his gut, said whatever was on his mind, and dealt with the consequences later. But when it came to you, every plan he came up with seemed doomed from the start.

The first time he tried, it was on the way to Charms. He’d spotted you walking ahead, your bag slung over one shoulder and your hair bouncing as you moved. His heart did that stupid thing where it sped up, and before he could stop himself, he called your name.

“Hey,” you said, slowing to let him catch up.

“Hey,” he replied, suddenly feeling like his tongue had turned to lead.

You smiled at him, that warm, easy smile that made his chest ache. “What’s up?”

Fred opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Andrew appeared from the other direction.

“There you are,” Andrew said, grinning as he slipped an arm around your waist.

Fred’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “Right. See you in class,” he mumbled, walking off before either of you could reply.

The second attempt came during a group study session in the library.

Fred had been unusually quiet, his eyes darting to you every few seconds. You were sitting across from him, absently twirling your quill as you read over your notes.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, leaning forward.

You looked up, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

“I—”

“Shh!” Madam Pince hissed from across the room, glaring at Fred like he’d just set one of her precious books on fire.

Fred sighed, leaning back in his chair as George smirked beside him. “Smooth,” George muttered under his breath.

The third time wasn’t even his fault.

He’d waited until you were alone in the common room, curled up in your usual chair by the fire. It was late, and most of the others had gone to bed, leaving the room quiet and cozy.

Fred took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he approached. “Hey, can we talk?”

You looked up at him, your expression soft but curious. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Fred hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue. This was it. He just had to say it.

But before he could, Lee burst into the room, laughing loudly about something George had apparently done. The noise startled both of you, and whatever fragile moment had been building between you vanished in an instant.

Fred sighed, watching as you smiled politely at Lee’s antics before heading upstairs to your dorm.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Andrew was as kind and attentive as ever, but your heart wasn’t fully in it. You caught yourself zoning out during conversations, your mind drifting to memories of late-night laughs and pranks with Fred.

Andrew noticed.

“You’ve been a bit distant lately,” he said one evening as you sat together by the lake. His tone was calm but serious, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, though you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for.

Andrew smiled faintly, shaking his head. “We should talk. Really talk.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with unease and the underlying feeling of already knowing what was about to come.

&

The rain fell steadily, soaking through your cloak and chilling you to the bone, but you didn’t care. After your conversation with Andrew, you’d needed space to think, to feel, to breathe.

That was why you stayed in the same spot he left you in, even when it began to pour.

But tonight, the storm wasn’t just inside.

The sound of footsteps on the dock pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see Fred, his red hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his clothes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice carrying over the rain.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, looking equal parts frustrated and relieved. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the water. “Needed to think.”

Fred hesitated, then stepped closer, the wood creaking under his weight. “And you couldn’t think inside? Where it’s dry?”

You huffed a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Guess not.”

An awkward silence stretched between you as the rain continued to fall. Fred shifted on his feet, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something.

He hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through what he wanted to say.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he blurted finally, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “You’re out here in the rain, and I’m the idiot who followed you, and… Merlin, I don’t even know where to start.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression guarded. “Then don’t.”

Fred shook his head. “No, I have to. Because—because you drive me mad. You’re all I can think about, and it’s infuriating because I don’t even know when it started, but it’s just… there. All the time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice.

“You know, Andrew is… perfect, really. Kind, understanding. Says all the right things. And he’s right. He’s everything I should want.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “If he’s so perfect, then why are you out here? With me?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you blinked, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Why, if Andrew’s so perfect, are you standing out here in the rain with me instead of him?” Fred pressed, his voice soft but insistent.

Your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the truth spilled out. “Because he’s not you, Fred! He never was.”

Fred stared at you, his breath hitching as your words sank in.

You laughed bitterly, swiping at your wet face. “Andrew is kind and caring and everything I should want. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s not you. And that’s why we ended things. He knows he’s not the one I want to be with.”

Fred didn’t move for a moment, as though your words had stunned him. His wide eyes searched yours, raindrops slipping down his face, mingling with the uncertainty you saw flicker there.

But then, something shifted. Determination sparked in his gaze, and in one swift motion, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His hands, rough yet gentle, cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your rain-damp cheeks.

The kiss came like a thunderclap—fierce, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. His lips claimed yours with a desperation that stole the breath from your lungs, as though this was the only way he could make you understand everything he couldn’t say.

The rain blurred everything around you—the trees, the lake, the world itself—but Fred’s warmth anchored you. His hands trembled slightly against your skin, betraying the vulnerability beneath his boldness.

A soft gasp escaped you as your fingers curled into the fabric of his soaked shirt, pulling him closer instinctively. The rain had drenched you both, but Fred’s heat seeped through the layers, making you feel like nothing else mattered.

His lips moved against yours, earnest and unrelenting, as though he feared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tightly enough. And yet, there was no demand in his kiss, only a raw, aching need that left you dizzy.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Fred rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. His hands stayed on your face, as if letting go would break the fragile moment between you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but firm, his thumb brushing away the rain—or was it a tear?—from your cheek. “Forgive me?”

The rain continued to fall, cold and relentless, but it didn’t matter. Fred’s eyes searched yours, unguarded and full of something that made your chest ache.

“Always,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

Fred’s lips curved into the faintest smile before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less consuming.

From a distance, George and Lee watched from the cover of a nearby tree, Angelina holding an umbrella over them with a triumphant smirk.

“Told you,” George said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lee muttered, crossing his arms, but not before handing George the bag. “I still say it’s weird to bet on your brother’s love life.”

“Not when it’s this predictable,” Angelina chimed in, snatching a Galleon from the bag. “You’re welcome, by the way. I made this happen.”

“You did nothing,” George said, rolling his eyes. “They’re just idiots. Idiots in love.”

[woso-story]

The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part Four

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three

The morning of the meeting, your nerves felt like they were eating you alive. Every step toward the café felt heavier than the last, as though the gravity of your decision was pulling you back. For days, you’d debated whether to come at all. You’d imagined every possible outcome: Alexia apologizing, Alexia blaming you, Alexia trying to win you back. But no matter how much you rehearsed your responses, nothing prepared you for the reality of seeing her again.

The café was quiet as you approached. It was early, not many people around. Through the glass, you could see Alexia already sitting at your old table, her back slightly hunched, her hands wrapped tightly around a mug.

For a moment, you stopped in your tracks. Memories of the two of you flooded your mind—happy days spent in this exact spot, laughing, dreaming, planning your future together. The air had always been warm with love back then. But now? Now it felt like that love was gone, leaving only bitterness and heartbreak behind.

You inhaled deeply and pushed open the door.

---

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Alexia’s attention. She looked up, her eyes meeting yours instantly, and she stood, as if she wasn’t sure whether to stay seated or greet you. She hesitated before giving a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Hi,” she said quietly. Her voice was small, unsure, and it tugged at your heart in a way you weren’t ready for.

“Hi,” you replied curtly. No warmth, no familiarity. Just the distance you’d carefully built since the day you walked out of her apartment.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea?” she offered, almost nervously.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s just get this over with.”

The words were sharp, but you needed them to be. You needed to protect yourself, to keep the walls you’d built from crumbling the moment she looked at you with those pleading eyes.

Alexia flinched slightly but nodded, sitting back down. You followed, keeping your distance, your arms crossed defensively as you waited for her to start.

---

The silence between you stretched on painfully. Alexia fidgeted with her mug, her eyes darting between you and the table. You resisted the urge to fill the void, to make it easier for her. This was her meeting, her chance to explain. You weren’t going to make it easier for her.

Finally, you sighed, irritation creeping into your voice. “If you’re not going to say anything, I’m leaving. I don’t have time to sit here in silence.”

“No—wait,” she blurted out, her voice breaking slightly. She looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I need to try.”

---

Alexia took a deep breath, her hands clasped tightly together as if trying to hold herself together. “I’m sorry for everything. For the way I treated you. For shutting you out. For not listening. I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to focus on getting better, but...I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you in the process.”

You stayed silent, your expression unreadable.

“When I got injured, I felt like everything I’d worked for my whole life was slipping away,” she continued, her voice cracking. “Football isn’t just a job for me—it’s who I am. And losing that...I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was angry, scared, lost. And instead of letting you help me, I pushed you away. I thought I could handle it on my own. But I couldn’t.”

Her voice broke completely now, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear, I didn’t. But I did, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I made you feel like you didn’t matter, because you do. You always did. You’re...you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ruined it.”

---

Her words hit you harder than you expected. For months, you’d begged her to open up, to tell you how she felt. And now, here she was, pouring her heart out—but it was too late.

“You’re right,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “You did ruin it.”

Alexia flinched as if you’d slapped her, but you didn’t stop.

“I tried, Alexia. I tried so hard to be there for you, to support you, to love you. But you didn’t let me. Every time I tried to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I needed you, you weren’t there. And do you know how that felt? To feel like I was invisible? Like I didn’t matter?”

Tears were streaming down your face now, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. “You broke my heart, Alexia. Piece by piece, over months. And I can’t just forget that.”

---

Alexia sobbed quietly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself. “I know,” she whispered. “I know I messed up. But...please. Please give me another chance. I’ll do better. I’ll change. Just...don’t give up on us.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the sight of her so broken. “It’s not that simple, Alexia. You hurt me. And I don’t think I can trust you not to do it again.”

Her face crumpled, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob.

“I think we need time,” you continued, your voice shaking. “Time to heal. Separately.”

Alexia’s tears fell freely now, her shoulders shaking as she cried. “I can’t do this without you,” she whispered. “You’re my rock. You always have been.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Your rock? I felt more like your punching bag these last few months. I took every hit, Alexia. Every argument, every hurtful comment, every time you brushed me off. I took it all. And I broke because of it.”

She sobbed quietly, her hands trembling as she reached for yours. “I’ll fix it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just...don’t leave me.”

You took her hands in yours, your heart aching at the sight of her so broken. “You need help, Alexia. Real help. Talk to a sports psychologist. Work through everything you’re feeling. Because I can’t be the one to fix this for you. I tried, and it nearly destroyed me.”

Her tears fell harder, but she nodded slowly, her grip on your hands tightening.

After a moment Alexia’s sobs quieted, and she wiped at her face with shaking hands. “So...that’s it?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“For now,” you said softly. “You need time to heal. And so do I. We can’t do that together.”

She nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. “Is there still a chance for us? Someday?”

You hesitated, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if it’s meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other. For now, we have to let go.”

Her face crumpled, but she managed a small, shaky smile. “Okay,” she whispered.

You stood, your heart heavy as you looked at her one last time. “Take care of yourself, Alexia,” you said gently.

“You too,” she replied, her voice trembling.

And with that, you walked away, leaving behind the woman you once thought you’d spend forever with.

As you stepped out into the crisp morning air, a single thought ran through your mind: Maybe someday.

But for now, you needed to heal. Alone.