#more of until dawn? yes please

[ncutii-gatwa]

ok i kinda want it

[pucksandpower]

Baby Steps

Charles Leclerc x single mother!Reader

Summary: you are barely staying afloat, desperately trying to wrap your mind around your impending motherhood while juggling being a press officer for Scuderia Ferrari … Charles shows you that you don’t have to do it alone

Warnings: pregnancy, family abandonment, and harassment

You grip the edges of the trash can tightly as your stomach lurches again. The half-digested remains of your breakfast spill into the plastic liner with a sickening splatter. Straightening up slowly, you take a few deep breaths and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. The smell rising from the can makes your stomach roll threateningly once more.

Turning away quickly, you lean against the side of the Ferrari motorhome, eyes closed. The sun beats down relentlessly, and you can feel sweat beading at your hairline.

This “morning” sickness is no joke — it seems to strike at all hours of the day. You thought you had gotten away with a quick breakfast break an hour ago when Carlos was in a team briefing, but apparently not.

Footsteps on the gravel make you open your eyes. You pray it’s not a member of the press, or, god forbid, Carlos. The last thing you need is a photo of the Ferrari press officer tossing her cookies behind the paddock. But no, it’s Charles Leclerc striding towards you, his brow furrowed.

You straighten up and attempt nonchalance. “Good morning, Charles.”

He slows, glancing between you and the extremely obvious trash can of vomit. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you say breezily. “Just a bit of food poisoning, I think. Had a questionable chicken salad for dinner yesterday.”

You notice Charles is wearing a soft grey t-shirt and track pants, his hair damp from the shower. He must have just finished with physiotherapy. He looks so effortlessly handsome, it’s frankly unfair. You suddenly feel acutely aware of the sheen of sweat on your face and your limbs heavy with fatigue.

Charles’ face remains creased in concern. “Food poisoning? Have you been to the medical center?”

You wave a hand. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just 24 hours of hell before I’m back to normal.” You attempt a smile, but have to grab the trash can again as the smell from it hits you like a wave.

Charles springs forward and grabs your arm as you retch miserably. “Whoa, take it easy,” he says, supporting you until the heaving subsides.

You stay hunched over, breathing hard. The world is spinning a little. You hear Charles say firmly, “Okay, come with me. Let’s get you sat down.”

He keeps a hand under your arm and leads you into the blessedly cool motorhome. The rich scent of coffee fills the interior, reminding you that you haven’t managed to keep any food down today. You sink gratefully onto a padded bench at one of the tables.

Charles sits opposite you, his green eyes studying you intently. “When did the sickness start?”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. The jig is up. “About four weeks ago,” you mutter.

Understanding dawns on Charles’ face. “Oh. Oh!” His eyes flick down to your still-flat stomach. “So you’re ...”

“Pregnant. Yes.” You drop your head into your hands.

“Well, hey, congratulations,” says Charles gently. “That’s really exciting.”

You huff out something between a sob and a laugh. “Exciting? More like a nightmare!” You run your fingers back through your hair and look desperately at Charles. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even Carlos. I can’t risk anyone finding out about this. If I lose this job ...”

Charles’ brows draw together again. “Why would you lose your job? You’re Carlos’ press officer. I’m sure he’d be thrilled for you.”

You shake your head rapidly. “No, no way. I can’t take time off. The season just started! Carlos needs me, I organize everything for him. The travel, the events, the media, everything!” You bite your lip anxiously. “Maybe … maybe after the baby comes, I can figure something out. But I have to keep this quiet until then. Please.”

Charles reaches over and lays a hand on your arm. His touch is gentle but firm. “Y/N. Working yourself into the ground won’t be good for you or the baby. Have you thought about taking a sabbatical? Just a few months to rest, focus on yourself.”

Panic flares in your chest. “No! No, I can’t.” Your breathing quickens. “You don’t understand — I have no one else. No partner. No family. This job is everything. If I lose it ...” You trail off, trying to blink back the sting of tears.

Charles is silent for a long moment. Then he says, “Okay. I understand this is your decision. And I promise I won’t tell Carlos or anyone else.” He hesitates. “But Y/N, please take care of yourself. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

You nod jerkily and avoid his earnest gaze. With a shaky breath, you push yourself to your feet. The motorhome tilts sickeningly for a second.

Charles rises too, watching you with concern. “Will you be alright?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. You start to head deeper into the motorhome, desperate to lie down before the nausea returns.

“Y/N,” Charles calls after you softly. You pause, glancing back. “Congratulations again. You’re going to be a wonderful mother.” He gives you a small, warm smile.

You swallow hard. “Thank you, Charles,” you whisper. Then you turn and continue on unsteadily, one hand braced against the wall.

You make it to the small office that passes for your private quarters on race weekends. Collapsing onto the ergonomic desk chair, you stare up at the ceiling and place a hand over your still-flat belly.

A baby.

Your baby.

Fear and wonder tangle inside you.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you know a hand is gently shaking your shoulder. You jerk awake to find Carlos standing over you, his eyebrows drawn with concern.

“Y/N? Are you ill?”

You stand up too quickly and immediately regret it as the room spins. Carlos grabs your shoulder to steady you.

“I’m fine,” you say hoarsely. “Just needed a quick nap.”

Carlos frowns, clearly unconvinced. “Charles said you were throwing up outside. That you have food poisoning?”

You make a mental note to kill Charles later. “Uh, yeah. Bad chicken salad, I think. But I’ll be okay.” You attempt a reassuring smile.

Carlos sits down on the edge of your desk, watching you closely. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell? You know you don’t have to worry about me, I can look after myself for one day.” His dark brown eyes are filled with worry.

Guilt twists your gut. Carlos has always been extraordinarily kind and thoughtful, a rarity in the high stakes world of Formula 1. You hate lying to him.

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just didn’t want to let you down. But you’re right, I should have said something. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head immediately. “No, don’t be sorry. Just focus on feeling better, yes? Take tomorrow off too. I order you to rest,” he adds with a small grin.

You smile weakly back. “Okay, boss.”

Carlos stands and gestures to the tiny table bolted to the wall. “I brought you some tea and crackers. Hopefully you can keep it down.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate you checking on me.”

He smiles. “Of course. Feel better, Y/N.” With a last lingering look of concern, he turns and leaves you in peace.

You look at the steaming tea and crackers and feel tears prick your eyes again. Carlos is a good man. Too good, probably, for the pragmatic demands of Formula 1. You know you should tell him about the pregnancy. But the thought of losing your place here, on this team, fills you with dread.

This high stakes world of racing is all you’ve known for the past three years. You can’t imagine life outside the bubble of the paddock, away from the adrenaline and pressure. Away from the team. Away from Carlos. Away from Charles.

With a deep breath, you sit up straight and tear open the crackers. You need to think about this rationally. Maybe Charles is right and you do need to slow down eventually. But for now, for the next few months at least, you have to keep going like nothing has changed.

You place a hand on your stomach as you nibble a cracker. “It’s gonna be okay, little one,” you whisper. “We’ll figure this out.”

***

The smell of coffee turns your stomach these days, but you still make your way blearily to the breakfast buffet each morning. Carlos is an early riser, and you need to be available whenever he is ready to start the day. You scan the offerings, deciding toast is the safest option, and reach for a couple of dry slices.

“Oh, Y/N!”

You turn to see Charles holding out a pre-packaged parfait cup. “I grabbed an extra yogurt by mistake. Do you want it?”

You hesitate. Your first instinct is suspicion — this is the third time this week Charles has “accidentally” had an extra snack to offer you. But the yogurt does look appealing ...

“Sure, thanks,” you say, taking the cup from him. Charles shoots you a smile before grabbing a plate and continuing down the buffet.

You sit down next to Carlos with your toast and yogurt. He glances up from his phone. “Morning. Feeling better today?”

You nod, mouth full. In truth, the nausea has continued, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it from Carlos and powered through.

Charles joins you both a few minutes later, greeted by Carlos with a fist bump. You peel open your yogurt while half-listening to the two men discuss the upcoming practices.

The sweet, fruity parfait is cool and soothing on your sensitive stomach. You find yourself polishing it off in record time. As you scrape the last bit of yogurt from the bottom, you realize Charles is watching you.

“Good?” He asks.

You lick the plastic spoon clean before answering. “Yeah, really hit the spot, thanks.”

Charles’ eyes crinkle with a smile. “No problem. I’ll try to grab two tomorrow.”

You feel your smile grow fixed. This is getting ridiculous. Charles Leclerc does not care this much about your yogurt preferences. He’s up to something.

Over the next week, Charles’ thoughtfulness continues. A cold bottle of water when you’re looking hot and tired. A sandwich from a local bakery when you missed lunch. Your favorite chocolate bar when you mention a craving in passing. Always with an innocent smile, as if he’s not playing Superman to your pretend Lois Lane.

It all comes to a head on race day. You’re in the scorching sun on the grid, already feeling the fatigue of the hectic weekend. Carlos is doing his pre-race routine, so your attention has lapsed. Suddenly a blessedly cold bottle of water appears in front of your face. You look up to see Charles grinning down at you.

“Stay hydrated,” he says with a wink.

That does it. “Okay, enough!” You snap, smacking the water bottle away. It falls to the ground with a thud, water glugging out.

Charles’ eyes go wide with shock. “Y/N?”

Grabbing his arm, you pull Charles several steps away from eavesdropping mechanics. “Why are you doing this?” You hiss. “I don’t need you to baby me!”

“What?” Charles looks completely bewildered. “I’m just trying to help-”

“Well, stop,” you interrupt sharply. The hurt on Charles’ face makes you falter, but you press on. “I don’t need your pity. I’m fine.”

“Pity?” Charles frowns. “It’s not pity, Y/N. I care about you.” He places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re always taking care of everyone around you. Now you need someone to take care of you too.”

His kind words hit you like a gut punch. Oh God, the stupid hormones! You feel hot tears spring to your eyes.

Charles’ alarmed expression softens. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you ...” He pulls you into a hug. One hand smoothes your hair while the other rubs comforting circles on your back.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmurs. You cling to him, embarrassed by your raw emotional response but unable to stop the tears.

After a minute the wave passes. You pull back, wiping your eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Nothing is wrong with you. But I understand this is a difficult time.” His expression turns serious. “If you ever need anything, please ask me. I’m here for you.”

Looking up into Charles’ earnest green eyes, you feel a rush of gratitude. Whatever awkwardness lingers between you has evaporated. Charles is a true friend.

You squeeze his hand. “Thank you. That means a lot.” Glancing around, you notice some odd looks from passing crew members. “We should probably get back to work before people think there’s a full-blown soap opera going on over here.”

Charles grins. “Agreed. But this conversation isn’t over. Dinner tonight in my room?” He raises an eyebrow.

You laugh, blinking away the last dampness from your eyes. “It’s a date.”

***

You smooth your hands down your dress as you approach Charles’ hotel suite, suddenly feeling nervous. You’ve been in drivers’ rooms countless times for work, but this feels different. More intimate.

You take a steadying breath and knock. Charles opens the door, looking unfairly handsome in a crisp button down shirt.

“Y/N! Come in.” He steps back to allow you inside.

The suite is spacious and modern, with floor to ceiling windows along one wall looking out over the glittering city. Charles leads you through the living area to a set of glass doors. “I thought we could eat out on the balcony,” he explains, opening the doors with a flourish. “The fresh air will be good for you and baby.”

You step outside and have to stifle a gasp. A small table is elegantly set for two, a vase of flowers in the center. String lights twinkle overhead. “Charles, this is beautiful!”

He looks pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” Pulling out a chair, he gestures for you to sit.

As he takes the seat opposite you, you notice several covered dishes on the table. Charles sees you looking and smiles a bit sheepishly. “I, uh, called my mother earlier.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Charles rubs the back of his neck. “I asked her what foods she craved when she was pregnant with me and my brother. So I ordered a bunch of that from room service, in hopes there might be something you’d like.”

A lump forms in your throat. You reach over and squeeze his hand. “Charles, that is so incredibly thoughtful.”

Pink tinges his tanned cheeks. “Of course. I want to take care of you.”

You chat comfortably over food and Charles’ excellent choice of wine for you — sparkling grape juice. He relaxes as you praise the chicken and melon he ordered.

When you sit back contentedly, Charles fixes you with a thoughtful look. “So, do you know how far along you are?”

You hesitate. “About three months now.”

He nods. “And have you been to a doctor yet?”

Your fingers find a groove in the wooden table to trace. “Not yet.” At his surprised look, you add defensively, “I’ve just been so busy with work. But I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Still, you should make an appointment soon. Just to be safe.” Charles’ tone is gentle.

You nod without meeting his eye. An uncomfortable beat passes.

“Do you ...” Charles pauses delicately. “Forgive me, but … do you know who the father is?”

Your cheeks flame. You stand abruptly, walking over to the balcony railing. After a moment Charles joins you, leaning on the rail at your side.

“I’m sorry, that was too personal,” he says quietly.

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I just ...” You glance up at him. “He’s no longer in my life.” You look away, a lump in your throat.

Charles doesn’t ask anything more, just moves closer in a gesture of silent support. You stand together breathing in the night air. The twinkling city sprawls before you. For a moment, the future doesn’t feel quite so frightening.

Eventually you stifle a yawn behind your hand. Charles glances over. “You must be exhausted. I should let you get to bed.”

You smile gratefully. He walks you to the door of the suite. Pausing, you stand on tiptoes and kiss Charles lightly on the cheek. “Thank you again for dinner. For everything.”

His eyes shine as he gazes down at you. “Of course. Sweet dreams, Y/N. And ...” He brushes a feather-light touch over your belly. “Sweet dreams to you too, little one.”

You feel your heart melt just a little. With a last smile, you head down the hall to the elevators. As the doors slide closed, you catch one last glimpse of Charles watching after you.

Back in your smaller, blander room, you change for bed in a happy haze. Sliding between cool sheets, you let out a contented sigh. Tonight was lovely. Charles’ thoughtfulness reminds you there are still good people in the world. For the first time in weeks, you feel a spark of hope.

You drift off to sleep with a hand resting gently on your belly. Everything seems less frightening now that you aren’t alone. Whatever happens next, you and your baby will get through it together.

***

The buzz of the media pen is giving you a headache today. Or maybe that’s just the pregnancy. You blink heavily, trying to focus on Carlos speaking into the microphone in front of you. You hit record on your phone as he answers the first question. It’s your job to capture every word to ensure he’s not misrepresented later.

The reporter’s voice fades in and out. You sway slightly, shaking your head. Just need some fresh air. You take a step away from the crowd, vision blurring at the edges. Dark spots dance across your eyes. The concrete floor rushes up to meet you-

“Y/N!”

Strong hands grab your shoulders, slowing your collapse. Your head spins as you try to make sense of it.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Charles’ worried face swims into view above you. You part your lips but no words come out.

There’s loud commotion around you now. You feel yourself being shifted, lifted. Snatches of Charles’ voice pierce through the fog.

“She’s pregnant ... get help ... ambulance ...”

You try to cling to consciousness but it’s like grasping at smoke. The world goes dark.

When you resurface, it’s to antiseptic white walls and a steady beeping. Hospital. An IV pulls at your arm as you shift.

“Y/N?” Charles appears at your side, relief breaking across his face. “Thank God. You’re awake.”

Before you can respond, he’s disappeared again, calling for a doctor. You try to push yourself more upright but your limbs feel like lead.

A brisk older woman in a white coat enters, glancing at the monitor beside your bed. “Good to see you awake, Miss Y/L/N. You gave us quite a scare.”

“What happened?” Your voice comes out hoarse.

“You fainted from low blood pressure. A common issue in pregnancy, but yours seems to be more severe.” The doctor flips through your chart with a frown.

Charles stands anxiously at the foot of the bed. “But she’ll be alright now?”

The doctor hesitates. “I’m recommending complete pelvic rest and limited activity for the remainder of the pregnancy. Strictly no standing or walking for prolonged periods.” She pins you with a sharp look. “And if your blood pressure drops again, we’ll have no choice but to put you on full bed rest.”

Your stomach drops through the floor. “What? No, I can’t! I have to keep working, I-”

“Y/N.” Charles’ voice stops your panicked rambling. His face is lined with concern as he takes your hand. “Your health is what matters most.”

The doctor nods briskly. “Precisely. No job is worth risking your or your baby’s safety.” With a final warning look, she departs.

The moment she leaves, you burst into tears. Harsh, gasping sobs wrack your frame. This is a disaster. Without being able to stand or walk for long stretches, you’re useless to the team. You’ll be fired for sure. And then what will you do? You have no one, no other skills-

Warm, strong arms wrap around you as you weep. Charles cradles you against his chest, making low soothing sounds.

“Shh, it’s going to be alright,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “We’ll figure this out.”

You clutch fistfuls of his shirt, burying your face in the soft cotton. The steady thump of his heartbeat slowly calms your hysteria.

When the tears finally subside, Charles eases you gently back against the pillows. His thumbs brush away the moisture from your cheeks.

“I know you’re scared,” he says quietly. “But I promise, I will do everything I can to help you. We are in this together now.”

His green eyes radiate such sincerity, you feel some of the panic and despair lift. You cling tightly to his hand, anchoring yourself to him like he’s a rock in a stormy sea.

***

You pick listlessly at the greyish meat and mushy vegetables on your hospital dinner tray. At least Charles had the foresight to sneak in some contraband snacks earlier — you polish off the last crumbs of the cookies he brought, wishing futilely for something more appetizing.

A knock at the door precedes Charles peeking in. “Hungry for something better than hospital food?” He holds up a paper takeout bag and shakes it enticingly.

You brighten immediately. “Charles, you’re my hero.”

He laughs and enters, pulling a table over your lap to serve as a makeshift dining surface. Soon plastic containers of pasta, salad, and fresh bread are opened, the savory scents making your mouth water.

Charles watches fondly as you tuck in. “I wasn’t sure what you’d feel up to eating. But who doesn’t like Italian food?”

You make a noise of emphatic agreement through your full mouth. Charles chuckles.

When you finally surface for air, he clears his throat. “So I was thinking ...” Charles busies himself folding and refolding your napkin. “My apartment in Monaco is pretty big for just me. And it has a guest room that’s just sitting empty.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to go on.

“Well ...” Charles rubs the back of his neck. “I thought maybe when you’re discharged, you could come stay with me for a while. So I can make sure you’re not overexerting yourself.”

You frown slightly. “Oh. That’s really kind, but I’ll be fine once I’m out of here.”

“Will you?” Charles levels you with a knowing look. “No offense, but you’re not exactly the best at asking for help when you need it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but can’t really argue with that.

“Let me do this for you. For my own peace of mind too,” Charles implores gently. He takes your hand, blue eyes full of sincerity. “Please?”

Looking into his earnest face, you feel your weak resistance faltering. Still ... “I don’t want to be a burden,” you mumble half-heartedly.

Charles squeezes your hand. “You could never be. I care about you, Y/N.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles. “I want to take care of you and the baby.”

The warmth in his voice melts away the last of your reluctance. And honestly, the prospect of having Charles doting on you is far preferable to being alone in your small, dreary apartment.

You meet his hopeful gaze. “Okay. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then … I accept your kind offer.”

Charles’ answering smile rivals the sun. “Yeah? Oh, that’s fantastic!” He sweeps you into an enthusiastic but gentle hug. You cling to him, feeling the nervous knot that’s been your constant companion for weeks finally start to loosen. Everything will work out.

That night as Charles is leaving, you call his name softly. He pauses, one hand on the door.

You twist your fingers in the blanket, suddenly shy. “I just wanted to say … thank you. For everything. I’ll find a way to repay you someday, I promise.”

Charles’ expression softens. He comes back and squeezes your hand. “You don’t owe me anything. Just focus on yourself and that little one.” He strokes a finger over your belly. “That’s all the repayment I need.”

With a last smile, he slips out, leaving you to fall asleep with a heart full of gratitude and growing affection for your kind rescuer.

***

You smooth your hands nervously over your dress as you approach Fred Vasseur’s office. This is it. Time to tell your boss that you’ll be leaving him in the lurch smack dab in the middle of the season.

Charles gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It will be okay. Just explain the situation.”

You take a deep breath and nod. Charles opens the door and gestures for you to enter first.

Fred rises from behind his desk, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/N, Charles. What can I do for you?” His gaze darts between you curiously.

Your mouth goes dry. Charles gently guides you to sit in one of the chairs facing Fred, taking the other himself.

“Y/N has something she needs to discuss with you,” Charles begins calmly. “I’m here for moral support.”

Fred’s eyebrows raise but he nods for you to go on. Your hands twist together in your lap.

“Well, I ...” You have to pause and swallow hard. “I recently learned that I’m pregnant. And I’ve developed some, uh, complications that mean I can’t travel or be on my feet much.”

Fred’s eyebrows climb higher. “I … see. Congratulations?” He still looks perplexed.

Charles jumps in. “What she’s trying to say is, she needs to take a leave of absence. Doctor’s orders.”

“Ah.” Understanding settles on Fred’s face. He turns back to you. “I’m very sorry to hear you’re unwell. Of course health must come first.”

You feel yourself relax slightly. “So I can take a sabbatical? My job will still be here when I’m able to return?”

“Absolutely.” Fred nods. “You’ve been invaluable to our team. Your role will be waiting whenever you’re ready.”

You could cry with relief. “Oh, thank you! That means the world.”

Fred smiles kindly. “Think nothing of it. Focus on your health and that baby. We’ll manage in the meantime.”

Charles reaches over to clasp your hand supportively. “Is there anything else she needs to know before starting her leave?”

Fred considers this. “Y/N will have full pay during sabbatical, of course. And keep me posted on any support you require — medical, household, anything at all.”

You clutch Charles’ hand, too overwhelmed to speak. He smiles. “Very generous. We appreciate that greatly.”

After finalizing a few details, you both stand. Fred comes around the desk to shake your hand. “Best of luck with everything. Let me know if you need absolutely anything.”

You whisper a heartfelt thank you before allowing Charles to guide you out. Safely in the hallway, you turn and fling your arms around him.

“Charles, thank you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

His strong arms come around you, cradling you close. “Of course, Y/N. I meant what I said — I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

You cling to each other for a long moment, his steadfast support washing away your lingering fears. As long as Charles is with you, you know everything will work out just fine.

***

You fidget in the generic mint-colored exam room, paper crinkling beneath you as you perch on the edge of the table. Charles sits in a nearby chair, scrolling through his phone, the picture of calm. You wish you shared his zen attitude.

A brisk knock precedes the door swinging open. A smiling older woman enters, glancing down at her chart.

“Y/N? I’m Dr. Boucher, nice to meet you.” Her smile widens as she looks between you and Charles. “And you must be the dad! Wonderful.”

Your mouth drops open to correct her, but Charles beats you to it. “That’s right, thank you,” he says easily, standing to shake the doctor’s hand.

You snap your mouth shut, eyes widening. But the doctor has already moved on, washing her hands at the sink.

“Now then, let’s take a look at this baby, shall we?” She pats the exam table.

You lie back, hiking up your shirt to expose your belly. The cool gel makes you shiver as the doctor smears it over your skin. She places the ultrasound wand low on your abdomen and moves it slowly.

The screen blooms to life, blurred black and white shifting until a shape emerges — a tiny profile, curled arms and legs distinct. You gasp softly. There’s your baby.

Dr. Boucher smiles. “There we are. Looks to be about 16 weeks along. Growing beautifully.”

You can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. Your throat feels tight. After so many weeks of secrecy and fear, this precious little life finally seems real.

“And there’s the heartbeat.” The doctor turns up the volume, and a rapid thumping fills the room. “Nice and strong.”

Tears spill over your cheeks before you can stop them. A glance over shows Charles watching the monitor intently, green eyes shiny with emotion. He reaches for your hand, gripping tightly.

When the appointment ends, you both exit the office in a daze. As you walk down the street to Charles’ car, he turns to you.

“That was … incredible,” he says softly. “Seeing your baby for the first time ...” He trails off, at a loss for words.

You lift his hand and press a kiss to the back, hoping he understands the depth of your gratitude. Charles smiles tenderly in return.

Safely home in Charles’ plush apartment, you curl up together on the sofa with mugs of tea to continue gazing at the ultrasound photos. Charles slips an arm around your shoulders, his thumb idly stroking your arm as you chatter excitedly about preparing a nursery.

This moment, here with Charles, your child’s heartbeat still echoing in your ears … it’s the closest thing to pure joy you’ve ever known. The future finally feels bright with hope. You lean into Charles’ warmth and send up a silent prayer of thanks for this man and the new life he’s given back to you.

***

You curl deeper into the plush couch in Charles’ apartment, cradling your mug of tea. Rain patters against the windows overlooking Monaco’s glittering harbor. The cozy scene makes you feel safe enough to finally open up.

“Charles?”

He glances over from where he’s poking at the fire. “Hmm?”

You twist your fingers together nervously. “There’s more I should tell you. About how I got pregnant.”

Charles rises and comes to sit beside you, face open and attentive. Taking a deep breath, you begin.

“It happened last winter, during the off-season. I went back home to Italy for a while, to the little town outside Milan where my family lives.”

You stare into your tea, remembering. “There was a man vacationing there, from Rome. Dario. We met in a cafe and just … clicked. He was handsome, charming, a perfect gentleman.” Your lips twist wryly. “Or so I thought.”

Charles remains quiet, letting you gather the words.

“We spent every day together for two weeks. Took long walks, went on romantic dinners. When it was time for him to leave, we ...” You trail off, face warming.

“You made love,” Charles supplies gently. You nod, still not meeting his eyes.

“I thought it meant as much to him as to me. But after he went back to Rome, his texts and calls slowly stopped. And then I found out why.”

Your voice drops to a pained whisper. “He was married. His ‘business trip’ was just a chance to fool around. When his wife saw my texts on his phone … it exploded. And then my family found out about the affair.”

Finally you lift your head. Charles’ face is lined with compassion. “They disowned me. Called me a fool and a harlot. It didn’t matter that I was lied to — as far as they’re concerned, I brought shame upon our family.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Charles immediately pulls you into his arms. You cling to him, crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “You did nothing wrong. This Dario took advantage of you, and your family should have supported you.”

Charles holds you until the storm of tears passes. When you finally pull back, he cups your face in both hands, brushing away the lingering moisture with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says softly. “I know that wasn’t easy. You’re so incredibly strong.”

Leaning forward, he places a tender kiss on your forehead. Then his palms slide down to cradle your rounded belly.

“I’ve got you now,” Charles murmurs. “Both of you. You’ll never be alone again.”

Nestled in his lap, you close your eyes and just breathe. The remnants of hurt and betrayal wash away, replaced by the safety of Charles’ embrace. Whatever comes next, you have found your sanctuary here, with him.

***

You wander through the apartment looking for Charles, one hand braced on your lower back. Your belly has popped noticeably in the last couple weeks, throwing your balance off.

Not finding Charles in any of the usual spots, you head down the hall towards the spare bedroom. When you push open the door, your jaw drops.

The room has been completely transformed. Bright sunshine spills through the windows onto whitewashed walls. A plush rug covers the hardwood floor. In one corner sits a fully assembled crib, stuffed animals piled inside.

Charles stands back to admire his work, shirtsleeves rolled up and hair adorably mussed. He turns when you gasp softly.

“Y/N! I wanted to surprise you.” His grin falters. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? Charles, I love it!” You blink back happy tears, wandering further inside. Charles’ face lights up.

“I wasn’t sure what color to paint, so I left the walls white for now,” he explains, coming over to slip an arm around you.

You lean into him, gazing around. “It’s perfect. Our baby is so lucky to have you.”

Pink tinges Charles’ cheeks. He kisses the top of your head. “I’m the lucky one.”

You decide on a pale green for the walls. Charles immediately fetches paint supplies, but hovers anxiously as you start rolling color onto the first wall.

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” He eyes your protruding stomach. “The fumes can’t be good ...”

You wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine! Here-” You dip a roller in paint and offer it out. “Make yourself useful instead of worrying.”

Charles accepts the roller reluctantly. Soon you’re both working side by side. Charles takes on the higher parts of the walls that you can’t comfortably reach anymore.

Humming under your breath, you step back to critique your work so far. As you do, your foot catches on the paint tray and you stumble. Charles reaches out to steady you, but not before a fat drop of paint lands on his cheek.

“Oops!” You clap a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh at the green splotch on his tanned skin.

Charles narrows his eyes in mock indignation. “You think that’s funny, do you?” Before you can react, he flicks his loaded paintbrush at you, spattering your shirt.

You gasp in delighted outrage. “Oh, it is on!” Grabbing your roller, you swipe it down his arm.

Charles lets out a laugh of surprise. Soon paint is flying from both directions. You run around each other, giggling and slipping on the drops coating the floor.

Finally Charles catches you gently by the waist. You’re both absolutely covered in pale green, sides aching from laughter. Your faces are inches apart, smiles fading into something more tender.

Slowly, Charles leans in and presses his lips to yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. You melt against him, hands coming up to cradle his jaw.

When you finally part, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he confesses, a little breathless.

You smile, heart soaring. “What took you so long?”

His answering grin outshines the sun. There, surrounded by dreams of the future, you share another lingering kiss.

***

You settle back against the mountain of pillows, trying to find a comfortable position for your unwieldy body. At nearly 8 months along now, your belly feels impossibly huge. Luckily Charles’ plush bed offers plenty of space to sprawl.

Speaking of Charles, he appears in the doorway holding a bottle. “Ready for your massage?”

You eye the bottle of oil eagerly. The stretch marks crisscrossing your stomach have been itchy and tight. “Yes please.”

Charles props up pillows behind you so you’re half-reclining. Then he drizzles some of the oil into his palms, warming it up before smoothing his hands over your bump.

You sigh in bliss at his gentle but firm touch. The fragrant oil soothes and softens your irritated skin. Under Charles’ ministrations, the discomfort slowly ebbs away.

His strong hands glide over every inch, easing out the aches and pains. As Charles works, he murmurs to your belly. “There you go, little one. We’re going to make your home nice and cozy.”

Your heart clenches at the tender scene. Even after all these months of living together, it still sometimes hits you how domestic this is. Sharing a home, sharing a bed … it’s everything you secretly longed for but never expected to have. A real family.

You trail your fingers through Charles’ soft waves. His eyes lift to meet yours, soft with affection. The look on his face steals your breath — pure adoration, like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

“I love you.” The words slip out unbidden. Charles’ hands still. For a heartbeat, you’re afraid you’ve said too much.

But then he surges up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “I love you too,” Charles whispers fiercely when you finally break apart, both panting. “So much.”

He seals his words with another drugging kiss. Your hands clutch him close, heart near bursting with joy.

Suddenly Charles breaks the kiss with a gasp. His wide eyes dart down. “Did you feel that?”

You start to shake your head no, distracted by the sensation of his calloused hands massaging your belly, but then you feel it — a distinct thump against your insides. Your baby shifting and kicking.

Charles’ face lights up. “There it is again!” He laughs in wonder. “The little one is saying hello.”

Happy tears blur your vision. Charles presses a delighted kiss to your stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you,” he whispers tenderly.

Through your tears, you smile at the man you love. The one who gave you and your child a home when you had nothing. However you got here, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

A dull ache starts low in your back as you crawl into bed. You shift and stretch, trying to get comfortable, but can’t seem to. Charles notices your restlessness.

“Alright?” He murmurs sleepily, rolling over to rub your back.

You nod. “Yeah, just some back pain today.” Probably from lugging around this massive belly.

Charles makes soothing noises and continues massaging you until he drifts off. You finally manage to doze too.

Sometime in the night, you jerk awake. The sheets under you are soaked. For one confused moment you think you wet the bed. But then it hits you.

Your water broke.

“Charles!” You shake his shoulder urgently.

He comes awake with a snort. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

“It’s time! The baby-” You break off with a hiss as the first real contraction clenches your belly.

That wakes Charles up fully. “The baby? It’s coming?” He practically falls out of bed, all long limbs flailing.

You have to stifle an inappropriate giggle at his panic. “Yes, so we should-” Your instructions die as Charles sprints from the room. Alright then.

You shake your head in amusement and heave yourself to your feet, one hand braced on your lower back. Waddling slowly after Charles, you find him hyperactively rushing around the living room, tossing items randomly into your hospital bag.

“Okay, let’s go!” He grabs the overflowing bag and dashes out the front door. You stare after him in disbelief then lower yourself carefully onto the couch to wait.

Not thirty seconds later, Charles comes barreling back inside. “Oh God, I forgot you!”

You have to laugh at the panic on his face. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Looking marginally calmer, he helps you up, frantically gathering your bag in one hand while keeping the other wrapped around you.

You lean your weight on him during the next contraction, breathing through it. “It’s okay. But we should really go now.”

Charles practically carries you down to the garage and bundles you into his Ferrari in record time. He drives well over the speed limit, one hand clutching yours the whole way.

At the hospital, Charles refuses to leave your side even for a second. He holds the gas and air for you to breathe during contractions, whispering how strong and amazing you are.

When the time comes to push, the pain is unimaginable. You nearly give up, sobbing that you can’t do this. But Charles is there, guiding you through it, telling you that you absolutely can. And with one final scream, your son enters the world.

The shrill cry is the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Charles cuts the cord with trembling hands. Then the nurse lays your wailing, squirmy son on your chest.

You press kisses to his downy head, tears of joy streaming down your face. Charles gazes at you both with pure reverence.

“His name is Matteo Charles,” you whisper. Charles lets out a choked sob at the middle name.

Too soon, the nurses take Matteo for cleaning and checks. One asks Charles if he’d like to hold him. Charles looks to you questioningly, and you nod through your exhaustion.

Charles settles into a chair, shirtless, and Matteo is laid on his bare chest. Charles strokes a gentle finger over Matteo’s cheek, seemingly enraptured.

“Thank you,” he rasps to you. “For our beautiful boy. Thank you, mon amour.”

This is everything you never knew you needed — a family, a home, and an overflowing love you once thought would forever be lost to you. But you’ve found it now, here in this room, together.

***

The sharp cries jolt you from sleep. With a groan, you roll out of the warm circle of Charles’ arms. Your body still aches and protests as you make your way to the nursery in the dark.

Picking up little Matteo, you carry him to the rocker and situate him at your breast. He latches on eagerly, cries fading to soft snuffles.

Charles appears in the doorway, hair adorably mussed. “Everything okay?” He asks through a yawn.

“We’re good now.” You smile tiredly down at your nursing son. His downy hair and scrunched features are all you — you find yourself thankful that there is barely any indication that his biological father even participated in making him.

Charles comes to perch on the ottoman, watching Matteo. “I can’t believe he’s really here,” he murmurs. “Our son.”

Pride swells in your chest. Charles has fully embraced his role as Matteo’s father, as naturally as breathing.

When Matteo finishes eating, Charles takes him to gently pat his back while you right your nightgown. He kisses your son’s head when Matteo lets out a tiny burp.

Back in bed, you curl into Charles with Matteo nestled safely between you. Charles has a race this weekend, his first since the birth. The thought of him leaving fills you with anxiety.

In the morning, Charles confirms your fears. “I’ll just tell Fred I’m not coming this weekend,” he says casually over breakfast. “The team will manage without me. One of the reserve drivers can take over for a few days.”

Your head jerks up. “What? No, Charles, you have to race.”

“But I don’t want to leave you two!” Charles gestures helplessly to where Matteo snoozes in a bouncer.

You catch Charles’ hand. “This is your dream. Matteo and I will be right here cheering you on when you get back.”

Charles wavers. You soften your voice. “It’s only for a little while. We’ll be okay.”

Finally he nods reluctantly. You know how hard this is for him — but Charles was born to race. You won’t let him give that up.

The morning Charles is set to fly out, he clings to you and Matteo like a second skin. You practically have to peel him off at airport security.

“I’ll be back so soon,” he whispers fiercely. One last kiss, and then he’s gone.

The apartment feels empty and too quiet. But you fill the time singing and playing with Matteo, keeping yourself busy until the race.

You and Matteo cuddle close on the couch to watch Charles zoom around the track. Your heart swells with love and pride seeing your man do what he was meant to.

When Charles wins, he shouts his ecstatic thanks to you and Matteo over the team radio. The podium champagne gets sprayed directly into the camera for you.

Finally Charles is home, sweeping you and Matteo into his arms. “I love you both so much,” he murmurs in wonder. You whisper it right back, nestled safe in the arms of your little family.

***

The energy in the Albert Park paddock is electric as teams prepare for the first race of the 2025 season. You feel a thrill just being back, Matteo cooing happily in your arms. At nearly six months old now, he’s ready for his first race.

Charles bounces on his toes, unable to contain his excitement. “Are you ready to see Papa race, Matteo?” He tickles Matteo’s belly, eliciting bubbly giggles.

You head first to the Ferrari garage, where the mechanics crowd around eagerly to fawn over Matteo. Lewis gives you a careful hug, peering curiously at the baby.

“Lewis, meet Matteo,” Charles says proudly. At Lewis’ questioning look, he adds “My son.” The way he says it brooks no argument.

Lewis’ eyes widen slightly but he just smiles. “Hi Matteo!” He offers a finger for Matteo to grip.

Fred comes over next, cooing over how much Matteo has grown. You enjoy the familial atmosphere, everyone fussing over your boy. Matteo basks in the attention.

Charles takes him down to the front of the garage to watch the crews work on the cars. He points out parts of the sleek machines, explaining them seriously to Matteo as if he understands. Matteo just gazes adoringly up at his Papa.

When Charles finally straps into the car for practice, you have ear muffs ready for Matteo’s sensitive ears. Charles blows kisses to you both before pulling on his helmet. Matteo squeals and waves his little fist as the car roars out.

In the hotel that night, you set Matteo on the bed while Charles showers. Stripped down to his diaper, your son kicks his chubby legs excitedly.

Charles emerges in comfy clothes, his hair still damp, and laughs at Matteo’s antics. “Alright, my little race car driver, time for bed.”

He tickles Matteo’s tummy as he puts on a fresh diaper and snaps up his pajamas. Then Charles cradles Matteo close, humming softly as he sways back and forth to soothe him. Your heart clenches at the tender scene.

Once Matteo is deeply asleep, Charles lays him gently in the travel crib. He turns to you with a soft smile. “I can’t imagine life without him now.”

You slip your arms around Charles from behind. “He loves his Papa so much already. Your biggest fan.”

Charles covers your hands with his, gazing at Matteo. “I’m going to win tomorrow for him.”

And he does. On the podium, Charles looks down to where you cradle Matteo in one arm, and gently showers you with champagne. Matteo’s delighted laughter is the sweetest sound.

This is everything you’ve ever wanted.

***

The energetic buzz of the Italian Grand Prix washes over you as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles, your son cradled safely in his arms. At nearly a year old now, Matteo is fascinated by the vivid colors and cacophony of sounds surrounding him.

Charles playfully bounces Matteo as you weave through the crowded walkways, pointing out the sights and sounds. “Look Matteo, there’s the cars! Vroom vroom!” Charles mimics the roar of an engine. Matteo’s delighted giggle melts your heart. You can’t help but grin, chest swelling with love and pride for your little family.

You’ve just about reached the looming Ferrari motorhome when an absolutely venomous female voice shrieks out, “You!”

Every muscle in your body instantly tenses. You freeze mid-step, heart lurching into your throat. Whipping your head around, you see an immaculately dressed woman barreling directly towards you, her face mottled an ugly shade of rage-induced crimson.

“You disgusting harlot!” The woman spits with unrestrained fury. “You filthy whore!”

Stunned, you instinctively take a faltering step backwards, nearly stumbling. Charles’ strong arm immediately wraps protectively around you and Matteo, steadying you. His body angles partly in front of yours and Matteo’s smaller form, shielding you both on pure instinct.

The deranged woman continues her tirade, advancing until she’s nearly screaming in your face. “Oh, I know exactly who you are, you reprehensible little homewrecker!”

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, a ghost from your past suddenly materializes behind the enraged woman. A man you hoped to never lay eyes on again.

His eyes blow wide at the sight of you, Charles, and the infant cradled against Charles’ chest.

The woman — his wife, you realize with dawning horror — grabs viciously onto his arm, her razor-sharp nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped gouges. “Just look at her!” She shrieks, spit flying from her mouth. “Parading that little bastard child around like it’s something to be proud of!” She violently thrusts her finger towards Matteo, still safely ensconced in Charles’ embrace.

Your son, sensing the onslaught of hostile energy, immediately begins wailing in distress. You instinctively reach out to take him from Charles, desperate to comfort your frightened boy. But Charles subtly shifts his stance, moving further out of her reach, as he focuses intently on gently bouncing and shushing Matteo in an attempt to calm him.

Matteo’s biological father simply stares, slack-jawed, at the sobbing infant. The gears visibly turn in his head. “Is that ...” he chokes out, “Is he … mine?”

“No.” Charles’ immediate response is biting and unequivocal. He clutches Matteo tighter to his chest. “Matteo is my son.” Though his voice remains steady, you can see a muscle in his jaw ticking from the effort of holding back more heated words.

But Dario clearly does not accept this response. His eyes narrow calculatingly as he continues scrutinizing the wailing baby. Behind him, his unhinged wife keeps up her tirade of slurs and accusations, whipping the gathering crowd into greater frenzy.

You feel lightheaded, paralyzed. This is a living nightmare. Distantly you are aware of camera phones pointed your way, capturing every wretched moment. Charles seems to realize the same, his handsome face darkening with rage.

With frightening efficiency, Charles strides directly over to the nearest paddock security officers and has a brief, terse exchange. Moments later, two bulky guards firmly take hold of the still-screaming woman and shellshocked man, forcefully escorting them away. The crowd reluctantly disperses, murmuring.

Charles immediately returns to envelope you and Matteo in a fiercely protective embrace. “It’s alright now, you’re both safe,” he soothes, though his rapid heartbeat belies his calm words. Matteo’s panicked sobs have faded to tiny hiccups against Charles’ neck.

The rest of the chaotic day passes in a blur. Much later, in the privacy of your hotel room, Charles reveals that he pulled every string and called in every favor necessary to have Dario and his deranged wife permanently blacklisted from all Formula 1 events.

His voice shakes with quiet rage as he describes how close security came to needing to restrain him physically.

Finally he takes your face so very gently in his hands. “I promise you, I will do anything and everything to protect our family. You and Matteo are my entire world. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I’m breathing.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, you collapse against his solid chest. Charles’ strong arms anchor you in place as you cling to him. He continues murmuring fervent assurances, pressing kisses to your hair.

Despite the ugliness of the day, you know with utter certainty Charles will shield you and Matteo from the darkness of your past. Your family is still perfection in your eyes.

***

“Papa, I wanna be a race car driver like you when I grow up!”

Your five-year-old son looks up at Charles with big, adoring eyes as he makes this pronouncement over breakfast one morning.

Charles freezes with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. He slowly sets it down, gazing at Matteo with surprise and pride. “You do?”

Matteo bobs his curly head eagerly. “Yeah! I wanna drive fast cars and win like you! Can you teach me?”

Charles melts, ruffling Matteo’s hair. “Of course, buddy. We’ll have to convince your maman first though.” He shoots you a meaningful look.

You shift uncertainly. Of course you want to encourage Matteo’s interests, but motorsport is dangerous ...

Charles seems to sense your hesitation. “Why don’t you think about it, mon amour? No need to decide yet.” He winks at Matteo, who grins in excitement.

Over the next few days, your two boys put on a full court press to sway you. Charles points out safety advances in karting and helps Matteo make adorable PowerPoint slides with photos of your son in race helmets. They both unleash heartbreaking puppy dog eyes.

Finally you cave. “Alright!” You laugh, holding up your hands in surrender. “You can start teaching him the basics.”

Matteo and Charles high-five so hard it makes a cracking sound. “Yesss!” Charles pumps his fists while Matteo dances in glee. Seeing their matching enthusiasm melts away the last of your reluctance. Your little daredevil was born for this.

The next weekend, Charles takes Matteo to a racetrack an hour outside the city. It’s just a small circuit, but Matteo gazes around with wide eyes, gripping Charles’ hand tightly.

Charles shows him the karts and safety gear, patiently explaining how everything works. Then it’s time. Charles helps strap Matteo into a kart made for kids, snugging his helmet gently under the chin.

“Ready, mon petit champion?”

Matteo gives him a thumbs up, practically vibrating with excitement. Charles grins and drops the visor down. “Alright! Let’s do this!”

He gives Matteo a little push to get the kart rolling onto the track. Your son quickly gets the hang of working the gas and brakes. Charles jogs alongside, gesturing and calling out instructions.

Gradually he lets Matteo take full control. Your little boy zips around the course, hair blowing out the back of his helmet. His delighted laughter echoes around the circuit.

Watching from the sidelines, Charles records it all on his phone, face alight with joy and pride. “That’s it Matteo, you’re doing amazing!” He cheers.

This is only the beginning. But seeing the utter bliss on both their faces, you know Matteo has chosen the right path. The Leclerc legacy will live on.

***

“I’m here in the pit lane with Charles Leclerc on the momentous day his son, Matteo Leclerc, makes his highly anticipated debut with Scuderia Ferrari. Charles, you must be incredibly proud right now.”

The Sky Sports reporter holds her mic out to Charles as he stands, beaming, in front of the scarlet Ferrari garage. Charles nods, looking slightly choked up.

“Incredibly proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he replies earnestly. “This has been Matteo’s dream since he was just a little boy. To see him achieve it, to be standing here watching him drive for the team I devoted my life to … it’s indescribable.”

Charles pauses, glancing over fondly at where you stand with Matteo, straightening your son’s helmet and race suit.

“His mother and I, we’ve worried and experienced every up and down along the way with him. But Matteo has worked so hard for this, never gave up even when it seemed impossible. He more than deserves today.”

The reporter smiles. “And his last name isn’t the only way he takes after you. Matteo is widely considered your protégé after you mentored him through the junior ranks.”

“I taught him everything I could,” Charles acknowledges. “But his talent and dedication are all his own. Matteo is his own man now. I can’t wait to see how high he continues to climb.”

“Any advice you’ve given him before his first race with Ferrari?”

Charles chuckles. “Just to enjoy every second. This only comes around once.” He looks off into the distance, eyes crinkling nostalgically.

“Still seems like yesterday I was in his shoes for my own Ferrari debut. I’ll never forget that feeling.”

The reporter wraps up the interview and Charles makes his way over to where you and 21-year-old Matteo are embracing. Charles’ eyes shine with unshed tears as he clasps arms with his son.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles says hoarsely. “Your mother and I both. Now go show the world what you can do.”

Matteo’s answering smile is blinding. “I’ll make you proud, Papa.”

He hugs you tight, then pulls on his helmet and strides confidently to his waiting Ferrari. The mechanics cheer as the car roars to life and Matteo peels out onto the track, on the cusp of achieving his lifelong dream.

You cling to Charles’ side, waving tearfully. “Our little boy,” you whisper in awe.

Charles wraps an arm around you, never taking his eyes off the bright red car. “He’s all grown up. But he’ll always be our son.”

No matter how high Matteo climbs, Charles knows he will always remain his sweet little boy — the bright-eyed child you and Charles raised with love.

His greatest source of pride and joy as the future beckons brightly, another generation of Leclercs carrying the hopes of Ferrari forward.

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll wait for your love - 18+

See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)

The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you. 

“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”

He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away. 

“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.

You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation. 

Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag. 

Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag. 

You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances. 

He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too. 

It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.

He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down. 

You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important. 

It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.

It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 

“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.” 

You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all. 

“I thought you left.”

“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains. 

You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening. 

“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”

He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it. 

He made you coffee. 

Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”

His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out. 

“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.

He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together. 

You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down. 

The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck. 

You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make. 

“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back. 

“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched. 

He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there. 

“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway. 

“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate. 

“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying. 

“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence. 

“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.” 

He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better. 

“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.

“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.

“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you. 

“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise. 

“I was angry.” 

“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable. 

“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.

You’re leaving soon anyway.

“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it. 

“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left. 

He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say. 

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you. 

“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks. 

You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into. 

“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits. 

He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble. 

“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn. 

It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying. 

“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left. 

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.

“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.” 

There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war. 

“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him. 

“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.” 

Closure.

You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to. 

“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 

“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.

He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.

“Okay new game.” You announce. 

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”

“Till the end of the game?” He studies you. 

“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”

“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?” 

“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now. 

“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.

“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it. 

“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.

“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game. 

“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”

“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.

“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.

“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance. 

“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result. 

“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”

“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move. 

A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate. 

“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”

He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’. 

“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend. 

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” 

“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!” 

“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!” 

“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply. 

“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.” 

“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine. 

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs. 

“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it. 

This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game. 

“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety. 

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity. 

“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you. 

You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?” 

“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”

“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him. 

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you. 

“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”

“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will. 

His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all. 

“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes. 

“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.

“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.

“I am being honest!” You protest.

“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.

“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 

Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way. 

“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”

“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”

You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.

“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered. 

You nod, moving your king out of check.

“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction. 

“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.

“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.” 

“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”

“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you. 

“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”

“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.

“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it. 

“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.” 

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively. 

You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side. 

“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly. 

“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”

Another time. 

“...right now.” 

You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.

“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”

“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.

“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position. 

“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.

“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt. 

“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence. 

“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout. 

“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence. 

“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”

“I don’t care what you–”

“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”

“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.

“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–” 

“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.” 

“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.” 

“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.

“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to. 

If you truly believed that he’s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him. 

“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.

You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.  

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?” 

You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you. 

“Sorry?” 

“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.” 

“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”

“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight. 

“No, God, no.” He denies immediately. 

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head. 

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move. 

“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”

“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches. 

“You are!” His eyes widen. 

“I am not jealous.” 

His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence. 

“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor. 

Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night. 

“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.

You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again? 

“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts. 

“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.

“Yes.” He hesitates. 

“Oh.” 

“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.” 

“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”

“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you. 

“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire. 

“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.” 

“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”

“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence. 

“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”

Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never. 

“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.” 

Oh. 

Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time. 

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word. 

Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.

“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.

“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless. 

“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect. 

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”

He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?” 

“Fair?” 

It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap. 

“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”

You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away. 

“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”

Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence. 

“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?” 

“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.

He knows exactly where it went wrong. 

“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.” 

“When you took it back.”

“What?” 

“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak. 

Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember. 

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”

“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed. 

“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.” 

You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together. 

“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words. 

“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.” 

You tearfully laugh at this admission. 

“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 

The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter. 

“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him. 

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 

“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”

“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending. 

“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.

You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down. 

“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness. 

After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is. 

“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.” 

Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is. 

“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?” 

He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth. 

“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”

“Deliberately?” 

He nods, hanging his head.

“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.” 

“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.

“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.” 

You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances. 

“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”

It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly. 

“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.

“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”

“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps. 

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.” 

He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue. 

“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”

You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.

“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”

“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.” 

“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.” 

It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.

“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”

The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up. 

“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”

Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.

“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.” 

Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way. 

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact. 

“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly. 

You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it. 

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue. 

“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.

“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it. 

“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.

“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”

Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.

“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”

He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response. 

“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.” 

Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret. 

“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”

When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.

“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”

There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other. 

“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.” 

Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.

“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.” 

The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his. 

It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.

Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other. 

There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues. 

Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.

“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”

“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”

He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission. 

You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless. 

His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle. 

“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.

He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch. 

There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips. 

He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you. 

Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him. 

His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird. 

“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.

Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.

“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips. 

You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’. 

“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.

As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.

“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.” 

“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking. 

“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.

Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear. 

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”

“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more. 

“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time. 

They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch. 

“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”

“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure. 

“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.

“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.” 

“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”

Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more. 

It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.  

“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”

His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.

Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight. 

The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck. 

You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet. 

“Spencer?” 

You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to. 

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.” 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” 

“About…?” 

“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.” 

Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter. 

“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident. 

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 

“So you’re staying?” 

“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”

Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss. 

“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second. 

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 

“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders. 

“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away. 

“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”

“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from. 

“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.” 

He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.

“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.” 

“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his. 

“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.” 

“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to. 

“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.” 

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.” 

“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss. 

“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries. 

You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened. 

“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.” 

“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”

“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”

Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on. 

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 

Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed. 

You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further. 

“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.” 

“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”

You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him. 

“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.

“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”

“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.

You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.

“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation. 

“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”

“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door. 

It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours. 

“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go. 

Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did. 

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates

Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.

AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).

Thank you for reading!

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Coparenting with Joel, you begin to date someone else a year after you broke up. Joel is upset about it but grows concerned when he learns the man could be a danger to you and the baby.]

Angst

“So how long you been seein’ him?”

PART ONE

It was Joel’s turn to have your three year old daughter Everly for the weekend. It had been nearly a year since you two separated, yet the routine still felt very fresh. A man you met by your job had asked you out on a date, it was strange dating anyone after being with Joel for six years yet, you agreed to it.

Joel and you hadn’t been seeing eye to eye, he always seemed so busy with work there was barely time for the two of you together. Everyday you found yourselves yelling at each other until one day you decided maybe being together wasn’t the best thing for either of you. It wasn’t like either of you to yell but something had pushed you both to a breaking point. You never forgot the look in Joel’s eyes as you packed your bags, Everly screaming in the background.

“Baby please, we can talk about this�� he looked at you with desperation, sadness in his deep brown eyes. You sat looking at yourself in the mirror remembering his words when the bell suddenly rang making you jump.

“It’s daddy!” Everly yelled with excitement as she stood by the door.

“Yes, it’s daddy” you smiled at her as you opened the door. Joel instantly became distracted with what you wore as Everly jumped on his leg. The dress you wore bringing back a memory to him, a memory you must’ve forgotten to have worn it so nonchalantly.

“Daddy!” She yelled excitedly distracting him from his thoughts.

“Hi honey,”he picked her up before looking right back at you.

“You look nice” he couldn’t help but wonder what you were so dressed up for.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you turned to get her things.

“I have her stuff almost ready and um-“ your voice became background noise for him as he watched you walk. He couldn’t help but watch how your hips swayed with each step until you turned back to him.

“Did you hear what I said?” You asked noticing the distraction in his eyes.

“Yes mam,” he lied.

“Mommy has a boyfriend!” Everly suddenly spoke with a giggle.

“Everly! That is not true” Joel’s eyes turned to you curiously. Everly must’ve over heard your friend and you talking about Henry earlier.

“He said mommy was pretty” she continued as you stood with slight embarrassment.

“Oh did he?” He noticed your cheeks turned red and as curious as he was tried to distract Everly from putting you more on the spot than you already were.

“Mommy is pretty ain’t she?” He looked at you with a smirk as you took a deep breath finishing packing her bag.

“Mommy looks extra pretty in the dress daddy bought her too-“ you squinted your eyes looking up at him.

“You did not buy me this dress”

“Oh yes I did” he took a step closer as Everly pushed herself back to the floor distracted by a toy close by.

“Don’t cha remember, our second Christmas together?” He whispered making you look down at yourself when it dawned on you.

“Oh…of course” you chuckled awkwardly remembering what happened when you first tried on the dress for him Christmas morning.

Shaking off the thought you zipped up her bag and handed it to Joel.

“Well, here’s everything” you quickly changed the subject. He watched as you crouched down to kiss Everly goodbye, a slight disappointment on his face as he realized you were now wearing that dress for another man.

Walking both of them to the door you were surprised to see Henry’s car pull up. Your heart racing as you knew he would now unexpectedly meet Joel. He wasn’t suppose to, not yet but he must’ve been running early. Joel could see the distraction in your eyes as he picked up Everly. Hearing a car door close behind him he turned to see a man walking up your front porch, you had no choice now but to introduce them.

“Um, Joel this is Henry..Henry this is Joel” with Everly falling asleep on his shoulder he looked directly at Henry who put his hand out. Joel silently took it as you awkwardly watched them shake hands.

“Good to finally meet you, heard a lot about you”

“Can’t say I can say the same” Joel’s response making you rub your forehead as Henry looked over at you.

“Wow, you look amazing in that dress” Henry’s comment making Joel clench his jaw.

“Thank you” you smiled before turning back to Joel.

“Um, I guess call me if anything. I’ll see you two Sunday” you brushed your hand over Everly’s back.

“Hey, nice to meet you again man. I’ll see you around” Joel silently nodded before walking off to his car close by.

He could hear you giggling as you walked back into the house before shutting the door.

Looking back at the door he walked off chewing his inner lip clearly annoyed by the whole thing. Where the hell did this man come from? Eventually he knew you’d date again, yet a part of him wanted to believe there was still hope.

When Joel came home Sarah noticed something was bothering him, she did know him best. She also knew he probably wouldn’t say, not right away at least. Instead she played with Everly and gave him some time, the curiosity in her dying to know.

Sunday felt like it came by pretty fast, for you at least. The weekend was a long slow one with Joel thinking about how you were spending it with another man.

Standing at your door with Everly in his arms he waited for you to open and when you did he tried his best to hide what he was feeling.

“Mommy!” Everly screamed happily practically throwing herself in your arms.

“Everly! How was your weekend with daddy?” You smiled hugging her as Joel stepped inside following you.

“Good! Daddy bought me chocolate”

“Oh did he?” You turned to him with a playful glance.

“Just one” he winked at Everly who attempted to wink back making you both laugh as you put her down. He watched as you crouched down and gave her a toy to play with as the thoughts he had continued to wander in his mind.

“Your boyfriend ain’t comin’ over tonight?” Joel’s question was unexpected, you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was of course not, Everly’s here” you stood up.

“She’s clearly seen him before” he raised his brows wondering how close you two have become.

“Well, that wasn’t planned. I was grocery shopping and we ran into him. Another time we were at the mall and he was walking out. I haven’t officially introduced him to our daughter. It’s too soon. I would never bring a man to the house like that with Everly, you know that” you could tell by the look he had there was more questions but before he could ask Everly ran up to him distracting him with a book. Using that moment you turned to the kitchen and began to prepare for dinner.

With the corner of your eye you watched as Joel eventually entered the kitchen as Everly stood in front of the tv. Silently he leaned on the door way trying to find the right words to say but before he did you couldn’t hold your own thoughts to yourself any longer.

“What kind of mother do you think I am Joel?” His brows furrowed.

“Wait a minute-“

“I’ve never bought a man here with her-“

“I never doubted you for a second” he quickly interrupted realizing you didn’t understand why he was asking anything. Quietly you nodded and went back to cupboard to pull out a bowl. Joel looked around the kitchen as he walked inside, hands in his pocket before he blurt out another question.

“So how long you been seein’ him?”

“I just started seeing him a month ago” you sighed.

“Met him on my way to work one day when I had to check something out with my car-“

“So he’s a mechanic”

“Mhm” you responded with your back to him.

“We just started talking and hit it off. He’s sweet, patient, gives me a lot of his time” Joel’s expression tensed up as he heard you talk about him, he could hear the smile in your voice. A flash back of you yelling at him telling him all you wanted was his time after he had taken three over time jobs knowing it was your week off. A week you two had planned ahead together yet Joel worried about providing would continue to take extra clients. He remembered the day he came home after midnight, you lay on the couch asleep watching a movie he had promised he would watch with you that night. He remembered the guilt he felt that he had forgotten and took the extra hours. He became lost in the bad memory until Everly ran up to him.

“Hey baby, daddy’s gonna get goin’ now” he whispered to her.

“Group hug!” Everly suddenly yelled making you look up. It had been so long since she had called for one. Before you two split it became a thing everyday before either of you left for work you all had to huddle together and hug each other tightly. Everly loved those hugs, yet you weren’t expecting her to suddenly request one.

“Come on, mom!” She yelled excitedly.

“Alright” you smiled as you dusted your hands off on a towel and walked towards them. Joel and Everly pulling you in tightly. Everly giggling she suddenly slid herself down Joel and ran to the living room. Awkwardly you found yourself with Joel’s arm around your waist, holding you close against him. Your hand on his chest with the other sitting on the back of his neck the both of you froze. It had been so long since Joel felt you close like this, his body aching to pull you even closer. His eyes moving quickly between your eyes and your lips. His look distracting you before you suddenly took a step back.

“I um-I should get back to cooking” your hand slid down his chest quickly and turned away back to the counter. Squeezing your eyes shut, your shoulders tense as you fidgeted opening a box of pasta. Joel stood still for a moment noticing how tense you became. Clearing his throat he looked away placing his hands back in his pockets, disappointed that he knew he couldn’t say more…nothing that would change anything. At least he thought.

“I better get goin’, I’ll see you two next week”

“Ok” he could hear the anxiety in your voice.

You watched as he walked to the living room and got down on one knee saying bye to Everly before walking out the front door..

Joel hit the steering wheel in frustration as he drove back home. He hated himself for not making things right when he could’ve, he hated knowing you were now dating someone else.

Once he got home he was greeted by Sarah at the door who excitedly told him Tommy ordered pizza. She sat on the living room couch and continued watching her movie while Tommy played a game of cards with a friend.

“What’s up, Joel?” Sam greeted Joel as he walked past him to the fridge. Grabbing a beer he sat down at the table and gave Sam a nod before taking a sip.

“What’s goin’ on with you?” Tommy looked at his brother with a raised brow.

“Nothin’”

“Everly and y/n alright?”

“Mhm” he responded without looking his way.

Tommy stood silent until Joel finally blurt out what had been bothering him.

“She’s datin’ again”

“Damn, I’m sorry brother.” Tommy shook his head, he know Joel still had feelings for you.

“Why don’t you get back in the dating scene its been a long time already” Sam shrugged as he placed a card down.

“She sounds really into him, he does everything I didn’t” Joel continued ignoring Sam’s suggestion.

“Did you see him?” Tommy asked curiously.

“Yeah, the day that I went to pick up Everly he had just pulled up. Some mechanic- Henry’s his name” Joel took another sip of his beer not noticing Sam’s reaction.

“Henry?”

“You know him?” Joel asked looking up at Sam.

“Uh…never really spoke to him but if he’s the same mechanic on Winchester road then..-“ Sam became hesitant to tell Joel what he knew afraid of his reaction.

“What?” Joel snapped leaning forward.

“He used to date my cousin um, she had to put a restraining order on him cause he started stalking her” Joel’s brows furrowed as put his beer down.

“Stalked her?”

“Turns out guy has a track record of stalking women, he’s a weirdo. Better tell her to watch out with him” Joel looked over at Tommy who shook his head.

“You don’t know if it’s him for sure, Joel. Don’t do nothin’ stupid”

“It has to be him” Sam whispered.

Before anything else could be said Joel quickly stood up and grabbed his keys and jacket. Tommy stood up brushing his hand over his chin wondering what his brother had planned.

“What are we doin’ Joel?”

“I’m just gonna talk to her, I’ll be back” he walked by Sarah on the couch.

“I’ll be right back honey, just gotta take care of somethin’” Sarah nodded and watched her father walk out before looking back at her uncle who seemed concerned…

Tags:

@moonpascal @katmoonz @joelsteinfeld @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @mangoslushcrush @guelyury @mynameistokyo

@harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito

@untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011

@hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l

@katiemarieeee @unknownomgg

[surielstea]

“Just one more, baby.”

Kinktober day 1: Overstim + Praise

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys is a sex god, that is all your honor

Warnings: Minors dni | 18+ only | Overstimulation | P in V | multi orgasm | forced/controlled orgasm | clit play | cream pie | mention of oral (f receiving)

A. Note: First day of kinktober! Enjoy this Rhys fic that is simply 2k words of pure smut 💋♥️

2.3k words.

"C'mon baby, give me one more." My mate's words were distant, barely heard through barriers of hot pleasure.

"Rhys," I whimper, his name the only word I could form on my lips anymore. "Rhys," My brows bunch as sweat beads along my hairline.

My limbs were heavy with exertion, and my core throbbed with sensitivity. It felt too good to say it hurt, but gods was it too much.

"You're doing so well," He coos, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw, the featherlight touch like flames licking up my neck, heat encased me as if I was placed in a freshly put out furnace, and every touch like crackling embers on my bare skin.

"S'too much," I manage to get out, my voice raw and weak from pleading and moaning early this morning. I used the small amount of energy I had left to take a glance at the window, spotting the sun high in the sky— since dawn, he's had me beneath him like this since dawn. I lost track of how many times I had found release nearly hours ago.

Rhys had only reached that peak thrice, and when he was building that endurance back up he would use his mouth on me, there wasn't a moment where I wasn't attended to.

"Please," I cry out, "s'too much," I repeat, tears streaming down my cheeks as he delicately kissed them away, such gentleness in contrast to the way he had been pounding into me earlier.

"I know, I know darling," He murmurs, his voice a soft encouragement. "But you begged for this," He reminded. "Until you forget your own name, remember?" He nipped at the soft skin below my ear and I cried out, regretting my own words— but also thanking every god listening for a mate like this.

"Uh huh— I remember," I say breathlessly, nails scraping down his bare back, corded muscles shifting as he rolled his hips onto mine, his cock spearing into me relentlessly.

"Yeah? Tell me your name then," He suggests, moving his hand from my breast down my torso, and before I can answer his thumb finds my clit, rubbing in tight circles across the puffy, reddened bud. I gasped, my head falling back into the pillows.

I writhe, my body deflecting the overstimulation. "Yours," I rasp, my hands flowing into his dark locks. "I'm, I'm yours, Rhys."

"There she is, that's my good girl," He smiles against my neck, licking and nipping at my marked throat before sucking roughly at a highly sensitive area. I mewl at the sensation, every nerve in my body stretching taut as he continued his torturous ministrations around my clit.

"Please, please," I whine, my legs jolting with uncontrolled spasms.

"Please, what darling?" He prods, his husky voice like a velvet glove wrapped around my throat.

"Please, let me come," I beg. He grins viciously.

"Again, already?" He taunts and I whimper, my lower lip quivering as I prepared myself to plead, to grovel for that release I craved so ardently.

"Yes," I say through a breathless exhale. "Rhys I need, need it," I could hardly string together words, every sound I made another lewd moan.

He ignored my pleas and continued his torment to my pulsing core, his unrelenting and near-punishing movements sending me into a headspace one could only describe as full submission.

Rhys didn't let up, his hand working mercilessly between my legs while his cock hit a spot so deep I couldn't remember where I ended and he began. I was trembling beneath him, my entire body oversensitive, but the craving for release burned through every muscle.

"Rhys," I whimpered, the sound broken as my vision blurred with tears. "I can't—"

"You can," He purred, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "And you will." The authority in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I clung to him as though he were my only lifeline, nails raking down his back. His muscles shifted and flexed under my touch, and he groaned lowly at the pain mixed with pleasure, the primal sound making me pulse around him.

He knew exactly what he was doing—drawing me to the very edge of what I could handle and then pushing me beyond it.

My body was his to command, and the way his name fell from my lips like a desperate prayer proved it.

"You're mine," he whispered into my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath. "Every part of you, mine."

I sobbed his name again, my back arching off the bed, muscles straining as I tried to escape the overwhelming pleasure. But Rhys' strong hands held me steady, firm, and inescapable as he pressed me deeper into the bed, his weight grounding me as my body shook with the effort of holding on.

"Atta girl," he murmured, and the praise sent a new wave of heat through my already blazing body. "You're doing so well for me. Just a little more, darling."

His thumb circled my clit faster, the friction against my swollen, overstimulated flesh making my vision blur. My hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in as if trying to anchor myself, but Rhys barely reacted to the pain, his focus entirely on me. I could hear his breathing now, ragged and uneven, and the thought that he was just as affected as me made something primal coil in my chest.

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, mixing with the sheen of sweat on my flushed skin. I felt raw and undone, and yet the heat in my core refused to subside. Rhys pressed another kiss to my tear-streaked cheek, his lips featherlight against my skin, in direct contrast to the way his hips slammed into mine with a ferocity that made my entire body jolt.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made my heart stutter in my chest. "Completely mine, isn't that right?"

I could barely nod, the overstimulation making it impossible to form a coherent thought, let alone words. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire, too sensitive to bear another touch, but Rhys didn't stop. He wanted me like this—teetering on the edge of too much, completely at his mercy.

"Tell me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," I sobbed, my voice shaking as another tremor of pleasure raced up my spine. "I'm—I'm yours, Rhys, yours."

His grip tightened on my thigh, pulling me closer until his cock was buried so deep inside me that it felt like he was part of me, like he was in my blood, in my very bones.

"So perfect," he praised, and the words washed over me like a balm, soothing the ache of pain even as he pushed me dangerously close to that edge I've already gone over a multitude of times. His pace quickened, and the sound of his skin slapping against mine filled the room, mingling with my ragged breaths and desperate moans.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful so fucked out like this, you love this don’t you?” His hot mouth ghosted my jaw. “Love being stretched out and filled up?”

I barely heard him, lost in the blinding pleasure. It coursed through every nerve, and my vision blurred with tears as my body trembled uncontrollably. But Rhys never let go, holding me steady, his hand still working my clit with maddening precision. Even as I tried to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, he kept me grounded, refusing to let me escape the pleasure.

"I—Rhys, please," I gasped, my voice breaking as the overstimulation bordered on unbearable. My legs shook, and I tried to close them, desperate for a reprieve, but my limbs felt boneless, and moving was impossible. His grip on my thigh tightened, sensing my protest and keeping me open and vulnerable beneath him.

"Just a little more, darling," he coerced, his breath hot against my ear. "You can take it, I know you can." His praise wrapped around me like a warm blanket, pulling me deeper into the haze of pleasure. Even as my body screamed for mercy, something in his voice soothed the ache, and made me want to give him everything.

"You're doing so well," he continued, his voice gentle now as if he knew I was teetering on the edge of my limits. "Such a good girl for me. Just one more, darling. I know you can give me one more."

I whimpered, my nails digging into his back as I clung to him, feeling like I might break apart at the seams. Rhys always knew exactly how to push me—just far enough to test my limits, but never so far that I couldn't handle it. And right now, his voice, his praise, was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

"Please," I begged, my voice hoarse from crying out his name over and over. "Rhys, I—"

"I know," he soothed, his lips brushing over the tears staining my cheeks. "I know, darling. You can come. Let go f’me."

His thumb circled my clit with devastating precision, and my body betrayed me, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through my already trembling frame. The orgasm hit me harder than any before, and I felt myself unraveling in Rhys' arms. My entire body tensed, my toes curling as another sob escaped from the back of my throat, my mind going blank as all I could feel was him—everywhere, inside and out.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. "That's it, come for me. Give me everything, darling."

I shattered completely, the pleasure so intense that I couldn't even scream. My body convulsed around him, my nails raking down his back as I clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. And I clamped down, hard. He groaned at the pressure, even pulling out and pushing in was an effort I was so tight around his cock.

His muscled back shifted beneath my nails as his cock twitched against my sensitive walls, and then warmth flooded my fluttering core as he finally found his release, his seed seeping into each of my crevices, implanting inside of me thoroughly for the fourth time that day.

“So, so good. All for me, right?” He said, his voice raw and slightly groggy as he spoke beside my ear.

I nodded weakly, tears streaming down my face as my body sagged into the bed, completely spent. Every muscle felt limp, exhausted from the endless waves of pleasure, and my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. But even as I fell apart, Rhys was there, his strong hands guiding me through every movement, his soothing words wrapping around me like silk.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice nurturing as he slowed his movements, finally giving me the mercy I so desperately needed. "You're so beautiful like this, darling. Completely mine."

I whimpered, barely able to respond, but he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his mouth gentle against mine. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered. "You're safe, darling. You did so well."

His praise was endless, a constant stream of soft murmurs as he continued to press kisses to my flushed cheeks, my forehead, and the corner of my mouth. Each one felt like a reward, and even through the haze of exhaustion, I felt my heart swell at his words.

He held me close, his body still pressed against mine as he finally eased out of me, the loss of his warmth making me whimper. But Rhys was quick to soothe me, guiding my legs together, and allowing me to breathe a long sigh of relief.

"You were perfect," he murmured, sidling into the space beside me and pulling me close to his chest, as if unable to let me go after being connected all day. His fingers stroked through my hair as my breathing slowly steadied. "You always are."

I sighed, pressing my face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body and the soft praise in his voice lulling me into a comfortable haze. I felt safe, cherished, and completely undone in the best way possible.

I look into his dilated, violet eyes. Seeing only worry and admiration in that familiar gaze, none of the dark lust from earlier remained.

"Too much?" he asked, a hint of playful concern in his voice as his fingers traced lazy circles on my skin, over my hip, along my spine.

I managed a weak smile, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Maybe just a little," I say, voice scratchy from screaming his name.

Rhys chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my very heart. "I'll keep that in mind for next time." He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to my forehead.

I groaned lightly at the promise in his voice, but couldn't find the energy to do much more. He shifted, pulling a blanket over our naked bodies before shifting me more comfortably against him.

For a long while, neither of us spoke, content to simply bask in the aftermath of the moment. My eyes fluttered closed, but before I could drift off completely, I felt Rhys's fingers tangle in my hair, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet.

"I love you," he said, his tone serious now, reverent.

My heart stuttered in my chest at the tender emotion in his voice, my eyes blinking open to find him staring down at me with that deep, endless devotion.

"I love you too," I whispered, barely able to find my voice.

He smiled then, the kind of smile that melted the world away, making me feel like nothing else mattered but this moment, the two of us wrapped up in each other. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips—gentle this time, doting. And at that moment, with my heart still racing from the pleasure and the love swirling between us, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

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[jyoongim]

Just found you and read all your Alastor fics. Love them! My request is jealous fucking with breeding. But the jealousy comes on because of Lucifer. Luci comes to visit the hotel and causally makes a sweet comment to reader but as soon as he notices that it pisses off Al, Lucifer just goes all in offer to buy readers soul and free her just to piss off Al until reader and Charlie have to break them up before they fight. Then comes in the breeding, so everyone knows your his as if him owning your soul wasn’t enough

Oh I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy it around these parts and I am happy you enjoy my writing!

Warnings: fem!reader, jealous!Alastor, flirting, Lucifer riling up Alastor, rough sex, breeding kink, pregnancy mentioned

The hotel was in an uproar over the King of Hell's impending visit.

Charlie was a nervous wreck and you were doing everything to make sure that the hotel was somewhat presentable and that everyone was well behaved.

”Now just be your charming self and make sure to help promote the purpose of the hotel for Charlie” you said fixing Alastor’s bow tie. He smiled down at you, waving his hand dismissively “Oh don’t worry my dear Ill be the perfect host. There’s nothing to worry about”

Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell…was not what you had expected.

You could see where Charlie got her flare from.

He was looking around the lobby, taking in the interior and the residents. You didn’t miss the way his face scrunched up a bit.

”And here are our lovely hotel managers dad” Charlie said, turning towards you and Alastor.

You smiled, giving him a slight curtesy “Its a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, I hope that you enjoy your time here at the hotel” 

Lucifer dawned a sultry smile, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. Kissing it.

”The pleasure is all mine”

Alastor growled, stepping between the two of you. He gave a tense smile “Pleased to meet you sir” he slapped your hand out of his and took it to shake. Lucifer blinked, a slight frown on his face “and you would be?” A snort escaped the red demon 

“Alastor! Im the host of the hotel. Maybe you’ve heard of my radio broadcast?” Lucifer deadpanned “nah never was one to consume media” he shrugged.

He slipped by to your side, looping an arm around you “Now I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour hmmm? Show me all of the more intimate parts” he chortled, as you nervously turned to Alastor.

Alastor's smile was tense and his eye was twitching slightly.

Irritated and annoyed.

Lucifer seemed to pick up on that.

He eyed the lanky demon, before cooing at you “oh don’t tell me you need the bellhop’s permission? ”

oh no. The lights flickered.

You cleared your throat “I would be honored your grace,but Alastor knows the hotel better than I. He can show you around” you offered, making the King groan.

Charlie chirped in “Yes yes. Alastor has been a great help. Well shall we?”

The tour went without any mishap. Alastor had you tucked away into his side as Charlie gave a run through of what she was trying to achieve.

Charlie suggested dinner before her dad left, to give him a little convincing to help.

You bustled about the kitchen, setting everyone’s meal down and making your way to sit by Alastor.

A hand grabbed your wrist, you stiffened as Lucifer gave you a charming smile “why not sit by me. Charlie has told of some of the improvements you think would work for the hotel”

You heard a static buzz as you took a seat by him.

You listened quietly as Charlie went on and on about her plans.

Lucifer had been not so subtly subtly flirting with you the entire dinner.

”Well I will think about it Charlie. I do believe your dream is possible” She smiled happily. he turned his eyes to you

”Especially with such lovely help” you blushed.

He seemed more interested in you.

”sooo what’s your deal with that guy” he was referring to Alastor

you tilted your head in question, he clarified his intention

”I mean he own your soul or something? A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be tied to the likes of him. how about I nullify whatever deal you made and you take you under my wing instead”

You looked at him shocked.

The sound of glass breaking sounded and Alastor shook his hand of the liquid once in the glass

He chuckled darkly “Well I am afraid it is late, wouldn’t you agree dearest?” His eyes narrowed on the man as he stood, coming around to stand behind you.

His eyes were black and glowing red as he practically sneered at the King.

Lucifer was unfazed by the intimidation tactic.

”haha what I strike a nerve? You’ve got this amazing beauty on a leash and for what? Im sure shell do much better being tied to you” 

Before Alastor could lunge at the man, you stood up and pressed yourself against him as you heard Charlie grab her dad to pull him away. 

Your hands reached for his face, turning his enraged eyes to you.

You shook your head at him slightly. You know when someone wa just trying to ruffle his feathers.

”I am feeling quite tired from today’s activities why don’t we turn in for the night yes?” You pleaded with him, softly pushing him back towards to door.

Large hands gripped your waist as his turned his eyes back towards Lucifer, he hissed lowly before whisking you out of the kitchen and to your shared bedroom.

———————————————————————————

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

You whined at a harsh thrust that jolted your body against the silky sheets.

The room was buzzing with static as Alastor fucked into you.

Green chains hung heavy around your collar as Alastor pulled on them to pull you into his thrusts.

He was pissed.

His usual composed and controlled demeanor slipping the moment he slammed the door.

He had taken you against the door roughly, too pent up to let you get a single word out.

He had thrown you onto the bed after, a dark aura surrounding him as his antlers grew with the angry emotions swirling inside him.

“Ah! Ha! A-Alastor!” You moaned as another orgasm racked through you.

He twisted your chains around his arm as he used them as leverage to drill his dick into you.

“Who do he think he is?” He growled, pushing your head into the mattress 

“Thinking he can just take you from me…ME?! You are mine”

You let out a cry as he ruined your walls, balls slapping against your cunt.

“You wouldn’t leave my side would you sweetheart” he hissed down at you, turning your head so you could see him.

”Who would want you after I ruin you hmm? You would be nothing but sloppy seconds.” He regraded you, angry at the very thought of you thinking you could terminate your deal with him.

Your deal with Alastor was nothing too extreme. Your complete devotion to him for his protection.

While he might not admit it, Alastor had grown accustomed to you being by his side, able to help him see reason and take on tasks he found too mundane.

You were like his wife in a sense. 

Soft and caring, always doing whatever he asked of you.

You never complained, happily fulfilling your duties to a tee.

And some goofy, short king thinks you would leave your benefactor?

Had he not given you anything you ever wanted?

You were the most free soul he had, that was a privilege.

Your cunt squelched as he pulled out, the tip kissing your outer lips as he stilled in his rough fucking.

You panted, clammy sweat sticking to your body as he tugged at your chains.

You were on your back, thighs spread around his waist.

A hand wrapped around your throat, Alastor leaning down to press a surprise soft kiss to your forehead

”You wouldn’t dare leave me would you baby” he cocked his head at you.

You shook your head quickly, hoping that he had blew off enough steam to finally be reasonable.

But Alastor’s jealousy was ugly.

He wouldn’t be done with you until there was nothing you thought about but him.

He should be what plagues your thoughts.

You should crave him by the time he was done.

He slotted back inside you, making you gasp as he returned to his fast pace.

”Leave me for that sorry excuse of a king? Ha! You wouldn’t. No not my pretty girl. Youre my good girl aren’t you?”

You mewled as you watch him transform.

”I-Im your good girl Ah! Pl-please!” Your eyes clenched closed in pleasure.

”Youre mine. You understand that? I own you. Your every thought. Every feeling. Your body, mind, and soul are mine. You gave them to me oh so happy. I can do whatever I please with you. Ruin you and dump you off into the street like a common whore if I wished”

You whimpered at his words.

”But thats not enough is it? Hmmm? Noooo. Youre not mine” he purred.

you pouted, ready to reassure him that you were, in fact, his.

He lifted one of your legs to your chest, angling his hips down

”Ill make sure every disrespectful wretch knows you are mine. Fir it seems my constant presence isn’t enough”

Your cunt fluttered.

How else would….

His dick hit that sweet spot deep inside you

”Oh! Ah!” His hand on your neck tightened as a sharp smile appeared on his face

”So maybe putting a claim to you will do the trick”

Your mouth shaped into an ‘O’ as he fucked you roughly, hips grinding down as if to make you mold to his very shape.

Sinners couldn’t reproduce.

Right?

that was your last coherent thought as he slammed his hips into yours over and over til he sighed, his dick twitching as he filled you with his cum.

You whined as he gave soft thrusts to keep his cum inside you, purring as it spilled around him, pooling around your ass.

You whined when he pulled out, hearing a soft ‘pop’ as you clenched around nothing.

A hand settled on your lower belly, now full of his cum, Alastor grinned wicked “Let’s see how much the pipsqueak will want you now my dear” he chuckled.

———————————————————————————

“Its nice to see you again sir” you said welcoming the King of Hell inside the hotel.

He smiled and once he got a good look at you, it fell.

”Charlie will be down in a second do you need anything?” You asked sweetly, hand resting on your swollen belly.

He stuttered out a response in surprise “O-oh w-why thank you. I take it you’ve been well”

Alastor manifested behind you, grinning at the short monarch, his arm roping around your waist, hand settling on the side of your stomach “Ah yes! We’ve been busy. Im sure you can tell”

Alastor- 2

Lucifer- 0

[yandere-romanticaa]

she walks in beauty.

🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.

yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.

Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.

However, Diluc was no longer a young child.

Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.

His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.

Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.

And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.

His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.

As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.

He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-

Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.

Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.

"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-

Do not keep me as a prisoner!"

He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.

But that was not how things were going to play out.

Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.

He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.

But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.

[thevoidstaredback]

Saturday's at Wayne Manor are family days. The whole weekend is reserved for the family to come and go as they please, but the biggest events are the Game Days on Saturday from 11:00 to 16:00 and Sunday Dinner at 18:00.

Every Saturday is a Game Day, but the third Saturday of each month is Competition Day. The kids all choose their favorite games, and everyone competes against each other. It's very rarely missed by anyone, but there have been times when someone has had to tap out for one reason or another. Alfred keeps track of who's missed how many days. Barbra keeps the tally of who's won what and how many times. At the end of the year, on December 31st, the scores are announced.

Sunday Dinners are sacred. No one ever misses a Sunday Dinner. The last person who did Jason is still getting subtle jabs and looks from everyone and that was a year ago and he had a very good reason, thank you very much! Everyone is always present for Sunday Dinner because everyone still has a room and the option to stay the night between the two days. Most usually take up the offer, but there have been extenuating circumstances that have pulled someone from the Manor.

No matter any of that because everyone is here and everyone is staying the night. That means everyone is patrolling Gotham tonight. Almost everyone. Batwoman has offered to take over Bludhaven for the night, so that's where she's gone.

Bruce plans to present his idea of messing with his coworkers when everyone gets back to the cave after patrol. All his kids know who they all are, having been trained by him, so there's no risk or accidental reveals on his part. In actuality, the kids thought of it like a game. They even had a folder for it on the Bat Computer and everything!

Yes, that night, after everyone returned to the Bat Cave, he would gather his Chaos Gremlins and invite them to mess with the Justice League with him. He'd also try and get Alfred in on it. Family bonding, and all that.

Though, making his kids sweat was its own form of amusement for him. It was 3:00 when everyone finally returned. They all ran their own routes, watched over by Oracle, and their own times, but everyone was always done no later than 3:00. It was a rule that the Gotham Rouges had yet to pick up on because Batman went back out until dawn more often than not.

Anyway, Bruce has been the first to get back and had put on an act of being upset. He usually kept his Batman persona with his suit, so he was rarely ever this stoic while he was Bruce Wayne. He hid his smirk as he sat at the head of the meeting table in the Cave, waiting for his children to change and sit with him. Duke normally was asleep by now, but he'd asked the boy to be there, letting him in on the harmless prank while they waited for his siblings and Stephanie to arrive.

Once everyone was seated, he waited a total of thirty seconds, meeting eyes with every one of his children, before he spoke. "I'm very disappointed."

Dick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He'd known Bruce the longest - aside from Alfred - and had likely picked up on something the second he saw Bruce and Duke at the table. "At who?"

"The Justice League," It was amusing to watch the tension melt off of all of them when he shook his head, "We all know who all of them are, as well as everyone who trained under them, but they don't know who we are."

"Except Wonder Woman," Jason pointed out, "She figured me out when I came back."

Fair, Bruce supposed. Jason was always Diana's favorite. "I think they need some help," he said, "A push in the right direction, so to speak."

Stephanie had a smile on her face that promised mischief. "We're not telling them, right? 'Cause that'd be no fun."

"Course not!" Duke yawned, "B said we'd give them a hint."

"What did you have in mind, father?" Damian asked, stoic as always, but matching the gleam in Cass's eyes.

"We invite them to the Bat Cave," he said, "Show them around a bit. The only exits we tell them about, though, should be the Lane," How the ground vehicles get in and out. "-the Zeta Tubes," Obviously. "-and the elevator. But, we don't tell them what's upstairs."

Alfred seemed very amused from where he had taken his seat at the other end of the table.

"From there," Bruce continued, "We invite their civilian identities to the next Gala. Meet them. Hint about the Cave without actually saying anything. If I know Clark as well as I know I do, then he'll, at the very least, piece together that the Bat Cave is under Wayne Manor."

"And if we play it right?" Dick's grin was manic, "They won't connect who we are."

"Won't that be suspicious, though?" Tim spoke up for the first time, "They may not have put things together yet, but they aren't stupid. They're heroes. If we give them the pieces, they're gonna piece them together."

Damian was the one to answer him. "Batman and Bruce Wayne hate one another, though there is a grudging acknowledgement and respect."

"Give them the right pieces, with a few from the wrong puzzle, in the wrong order, we could totally have them fooled!" Jason explained.

The group shared looks between each other. Nothing needed to be said because the looks and movements said everything.

Alfred smiled and shook his head fondly. "You may plan this in the morning. For now, go to bed and get some sleep."

Part 1 Part 3

[pascals-doll]

candy

ellie williams x reader

🫧 happy valentines day to all my beautiful followers | enjoy this vday special 🩷 am i uploading this ar midnight because a bitch had classes and work yes but its valentines (was technically) IM GGONNA WRITE AN ELLIE FIC 🧘‍♀️

🫧 inspired by the song candy by doja cat | bed of roses PT2

🫧 description: fluffy, cute surprises, reader knows how to know paint a bit, just fluff, cute fluff,ellie sings to you (i took the scene from the game because i cherish it sm) smut, SLUT SMUT💋, power dynamic, dom!ellie, sub!reader, you and ellie live together, reader is PUSSYHUNGRY (mmm im so- i would do anything for that tsunami), reader eats out ellie on stairs (you’re welcome), fingering, praises, no use of y/n, use of petnames like doll, mama, and good girl, very little degradation, hair pulling, clit sucking, face grinding, cum eating, just ellie getting eaten so good! enjoy

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

but you know that it ain't real cherry

know that it ain't real cherry

🫧

it was valetines day today which meant ellie got to spoil you rotten; it is very well- deserved.

you would always be very thoughtful with your gifts.

this valentines day, you sneakily woke up around 1 AM and worked until dawn on customizing a wooden workstation that you got her for her artwork.

you knew you had work in the morning but you would do anything for the woman who’s protected you, provided for you, and pleased you.

you painted the workstation very carefully a dark earth-green. you let each coat of paint dry before beginning to carefully paint details on it.

you were going to paint symbols for each of her favorite memories onto it. you took references from her own beautiful drawings.

one of the details you painted were the beginning of Joel’s; now her guitar, painting even the moth.

one of the guitar strings then ran around the whole work-station, dragging the brush till the end.

you began to draw small moths and different flowers with herbs carefully placing them along the string line.

lastly, finishing it up by drawing a silhouette of the both of your bodies intertwined, then painting an outline of ellie’s knife and joel’s gun side by side on the side of her workbench.

once you were done, you carved both of your initials into the side of the workbench.

you transfered all of her essentials from the small broken down drawers; that could barely hold up to her made with so much love customized workstation.

you made your way back into your shared warm bed, careful not to wake up ellie.

sunrise made its way into the sky, ellie waking up now as you now slept.

ellie noticed you got up in the middle of the night, searching for your warmth but she shrugged it off before knocking into slumber again.

ellie got up very quietly, planting a kiss on your head before heading into her work room to get her guitar.

she walked into her art room, stepping as she scans the room. she immediately stopped in her steps, her eyes falling onto your beautiful workstation.

ellie’s heart pounds outside of her chest, tears wanting to form in her hazel eyes as a rush of emotions take over her.

she walks around the small wooden dark-green station, her handing brushing it softly as she takes in your designs.

she couldnt help but think about although you had work sadly on valetines day, you still did this for her.

this was bigger than the world to ellie.

you were the most perfect girl and if one thing was for certain, ellie would be spending an eternity of valetine’s day with you.

🫧

I can be your sugar when you're fiendin' for that sweet spot

Put me in your mouth, baby, and eat it 'til your teeth rot

I can be your cherry, apple, pecan,

or your key lime

Baby, I got everything and so much more than she's got

you were now currently at work, you hated how you got called in today.

you asked ellie if she was going to be good with you going to work today, in which she responded by pulling down your panties.

lets just say, you had a very pleasant morning before going into work.

while you were away at work, ellie got to work on her surprise because eating your cum for breakfast wasn’t enough.

she went to almost all the floral shops she could, selling them out of their pink and red roses.

ellie covered the entryway with petals, even the staircase that leads upstairs, and leading all the way up into your room.

the living room, she had a fairy lights hung along with pink lit candles on the ground.

ellie had a huge case of flowers waiting for you, wrapped in the arrangement of your inital.

that was only the downstairs, your room was filled with more surprises.

your shared bed was covered in rose petals, a couple small gifts waiting for you while your surprise gift was tucked away by ellie.

ellie finished up any last miniute preparations before you came home from work.

she changed from her pj shirt and boyshorts from this morning to a flannel with a black-tee and some baggy shorts that exposed her Calvin Klein lining.

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

She's just like candy, she's so sweet (She's so sweet)

But you know that it ain't real, know that it ain't real

🫧

you came home a bit exhausted but excited because you picked up a teddy bear that held a heart with the writing “i love u” on it from a street vendor, leaving your job.

once you made it home, beginning to turn the keys to step through your front door.

you open the door to see your beautiful auburn-hair girlfriend.

she was sitting there on your shared loveseat, her beautiful fingers strumming her guitar.

the melodious tone from the strums of her guitar strumming the song your love for each other shares.

she began to sing softly “talking away” your hand cant help but go ovee your mouth as you felt tears begin to form.

the sound of her silky voice singing through your ears, making your heart pound and face hot.

“today’s another day to find you”

you could listen to ellie sing for the rest of your life, tears were already streaming down your face. ellie couldn’t look you in the eyes while she sang because if she did, she wouldn’t be able to finish.

you made her heart go a million miles per minute like a schoolgirl crush.

you made her stomach flutter like she was born with a butterfly nest inside her.

you made her soul shine like the sun after never-ending rain.

ellie finished serenating you, putting her guitar down

she finally looked up at you, clutching a teddy bear with tears streaming down your face.

before ellie could say anything, you ran into her arms; immediately taking you in to her embrace.

this was a feeling words couldn’t express, but only actions.

your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest with the clash of ellie’s lips onto yours.

you weren’t alone with ellie barely being able to catch her breath but so desperate for you.

the way your lips moved with such hasty movement but yet still passionately and amorously.

you began to walk towards the staircase, lips not leaving a moment. your eyes slightly opening time to time to make sure you were guiding you and ellie correctly.

“all i wanted-“ you began but were interrupted by her lips again.

“all day was to” ellie pulled away momentarily to let you continue.

“come home to this” you whined out against her lips, your tongue slightly licking over them.

🫧

Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper

It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper

Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper

It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper

you were fillied with arousal and need to please as you dropped to your knees…on the staircase. you could careless at this given moment.

your hands ran through her back, feeling each crevess of each toned muscle, then coming back around to her arms.

you gave her strong-toned arms a soft squeeze before having them go up to her chest. you needed to have her.

“doll i got a surprise in the room, lets-” ellie begins but you didn’t care.

“no” you said, looking her in the eyes as you unzip and unbutton her shorts “right here, right now” you whine out, pulling down ellie shorts completely.

ellie would be lying if she said you dying to eat her out on each other’s staircase wasn’t the hottest thing, especially on fucking valentine’s day.

it was you, how could she deny you.

“that desperate, mama?” she teases you as you peck her toned abdomen. you gave her a slight whimper as you nod.

she brings herself down to sit on the stairs, grabbing you by your jaw to pull you in for a kiss.

your lips meet again, your hand traveling down into her boxers immediately feeling seeping slick cunt “you drive me insane” you moan out, your mind was so drunk by her.

she had you high on her scent, taste, look, and touch. anything ellie did could have you on your knees, just like this.

your fingers begin to rub her clit in circular motion causing her breathing to hitch and soft moans of content escape her mouth as your lips travel down to her neck.

you begin to suck on the skin as your fingers massaged her clit, slightly putting pressure here and there causing ellie to let out gentle-yet-loud groan.

ellie’s hips began to rise to meet your hand “my beautiful doll-s’good f’me” she mumbled under her breathy moans.

you were sure you left her a purpletrail from her neck leading into her shoulder before going down a couple more steps.

you waste no time in pulling off her boxers, meeting with her wet pussy “s’pretty els, i love you.” you were just completely dazed by ellie at this point, wanting to please her and have her taste on you for days.

“you gonna drool or eat up, doll?” ellie smirks, she knew the effect she had on you and it made you fiend to please her even more.

your hands go to spread her thighs open a bit more before diving your head in between her legs. you met face to face with her juiced pussy, her slick coating your tongue as you lick a stripe.

“ah fuck, doll!” ellie moans out, her hips slightly bucking against your face as her hand had a grip on your hair.

the way you were on your knees on these steps buried into ellie’s pussy, your tongue collects her juices as you begin to swirl your tongue around her clit sucking softly.

she tasted just like candy, you grab her one of her thighs, hooking it up to balance on your shoulder.

the wider angle made her throw her head back “s’fuck doll! just like that. eat it just like that.” her vile voice praising the way you took the way she slopped her pussy against your tongue.

ellie began to work herself towards her orgasm on your tongue, her hand following the movement of your head.

you ate her out like this was your last meal, not wanting to let a single drop “god fuck-y-you’re insane!” she whined out as you worked you fucked her with yout tongue.

ellies stomach stomach flexes, her toned abdomen becoming more prominent as her breathy moans turn into pants and loud gutteral moans as you took your free hand; licking her asshole all the way up to her clit.

“fuck fuck fuck, doll! s’such a good girl” ellie’s hand swore she could’ve pulled your hair our by now but you could careless, the only thing on your mind was making this woman cum.

she deserved the way you ate her with delight, completely letting her use your face for her orgasm.

your nails dig into her thigh as you feel yourself slowly loosing your breath; but you were not leaving till she had came all over your face.

“s’close god! youre such a fuckin’ slut f’me.” her orgasm finally riding out.

“atta girl, lick it all up again.” she praises, pulling you back up from her pussy to her lips, tasting herself momentarily before her hand finds the back of your head guiding you to the white cum-beed that seaped out of her now fucked-out hole.

you licked her from asshole up, completely picking up her cum onto the tip on tongue causing you moan out as your lips were wrapped around her.

once you pulled away meeting her eyes, her cum covering your lips causing your face to glisten lightly.

“you’re a demon” ellie brings you into her embrace on the stairs.

“its not my fault you’re my favorite candy”

🫧

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

a/n > part 2 ??? 😇

[missaengg]

Servicing Lord Sukuna

Day 31 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Jujutsu Kaisen | Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, Lord Sukuna, servant reader, Sukuna has two cocks, p in v sex, anal sex Prompts: Non-human characters/traits A/N: Part 2 to Massaging Lord Sukuna found here! ao3 link here.

“I won’t be done with you until morning.” 

You freeze, Lord Sukuna’s hand still gripped around your arm, the feeling of his breath still hot on your ear. His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place with their sheer intensity, and he grins dangerously. You swallow thickly. His expression is reminiscent of a predator who’s cornered its prey, and there’s no mistaking the ravenous hunger darkening his gaze. He is the hungry predator, and you are his helpless prey.

You’ve heard Lord Sukuna eats humans as all Curses did, but surely the King of Curses wouldn’t eat his own servants? Would he?

It isn’t fair. You’ve pleased your Lord. He’s praised your efforts, but he’s staring at you as if he wants to devour you whole, and while some of the servants under his rule have disappeared without a trace, it can’t possibly be because he’s eaten them… Can it?

“M–m–my lord?!” you sputter.

“Tell me, little one. You’ve never been with a man before, have you?”

What does having been with a man matter when it comes to how you’ll taste? Unless…

“No– No, my Lord.” You throw your shaking body to the ground because maybe… maybe if you remain compliant, he’ll spare your life.

Sukuna hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. You can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes, and before you can stop them, they’re spilling down your cheeks.

“Plea— Please don’t eat me, my Lord,” you plead. “I’ll do– do better– I’ll work twi– twice as hard– I’ll–”

You’re babbling, begging him to reconsider because you know you can be an asset to your Lord if he’ll just give you a second chance, if he’ll just allow you to prove your worth.

“Hm?” Sukuna frowns and then breaks into raucous laughter as if he’s amused by your frantic prostrating. “Oh, I plan to devour you, brat. But not in the way you think.”

You gape at your Lord. You don’t understand what he’s saying. Is there more than one way to devour a human being?

“Your clothes have gotten quite soiled, little one. So unfitting for your King,” he purrs, his voice low and silky.

Lord Sukuna traces the outline of where your yukata parts, his long, sharp nails lightly scratching the skin underneath – his nails are so deadly, it would be more appropriate to call them claws. You should feel frightened by how they’re one whim away from gouging your delicate human flesh, but instead you shiver, the sparks flying in their wake confounding, yet thrilling. 

“Be a good girl and strip,” he commands.

Oh, he doesn’t mean devour as in food, but devour as in…

Your cheeks burn, the meaning of his words finally dawning on you. You’re relieved you won’t be losing your life, but also embarrassed because how naive and silly Lord Sukuna must think you are… 

“Forgive me, my Lord.” You scramble to remove your clothing, peeling off your drenched yukata as well as your underclothes and kneel before him as bare as the day you were born.

“Good girl.” Lord Sukuna gestures for you to join him. “Come here.”

You crawl to where Lord Sukuna lounges upon his futon following his beckoning hand until you’re seated on his lap. Something firm is nestled beneath you, and you realize with a start that it’s Lord Sukuna’s erection, still solid despite bringing him to climax just moments ago.

“Do you still wish to please your Lord?” he coos into your ear.

“Yes, my Lord,” you whisper.

“Good.”

His arm snakes around your waist, pressing you close into his impressive chest, and before you can process what’s happening, his searing lips are brutally crushing yours with a demanding ferocity. You gasp in surprise, and as your lips part, his tongue darts in, entwining harshly with your tongue, almost as if he’s trying to swallow you whole.

There’s nothing gentle about his kiss. You always assumed your first kiss would be tender, yet passionate like in the stories, but his bruising lips feel even better than any kiss you’ve previously imagined. 

He holds you so tightly you can barely breathe, what little air you can suck in being stolen by his greedy inhales, and you burn in his embrace. His body is scorching, and you find yourself lost in his blistering heat, ravaged by the flickering flames.

His hand squeezes your breast, his fingers pinching your pert nipple, and you jolt, sparks tingling from where he’s pinching and prodding your heaving chest. You barely notice his lips leaving yours and moving down your neck so consumed by the delicious ministrations of his hands, you’re shocked when he bites down without warning. 

You yelp. It stings where his teeth have viciously sunk in, but you find yourself relishing the pain, growing even more feverish from the radiating pain. Lord Sukuna soothes the mark with his tongue only to bite down again, leaving yet another blemish on the canvas of your skin.

He repeats himself, biting and soothing, locking you in a cycle of pain and pleasure. While you’ve never been one to associate one with the other, the combination has you losing your mind, and you pathetically whimper, putty in his roaming hands.

Lord Sukuna chuckles, the throaty vibrations sultry and smooth rumbling through his broad chest and rippling through your flushed body. “You like being marked by your Lord?”

“Y–yes,” you whisper, clinging to his shoulders.

You’ve lost count of how many times your Lord has sunk his teeth into your flesh, the swirl of affliction and bliss melding together until you can’t decipher one from the other.

Something swells beneath you, the hard tip of which pokes between your cheeks, and an involuntary gasp leaves your lips because it can only be one thing. Lord Sukuna’s… member is already so big, it can’t possibly get any bigger! You can’t imagine how he’d fit as it is!

“M–my Lord?”

Lord Sukuna pauses from biting your shoulder, noting the questioning fear wavering in your eyes. He smirks diabolically, clearly entertained. “Did you not know I had a second cock?”

His second…? You gasp again, your mouth hanging open and your eyes wide. What does he mean two? You barely know what to do with the one!

Lord Sukuna shifts, hauling you off his lap until the tips of both his monstrous cocks are positioned by both of your entrances. “Such a good brat, so wet for your Lord.” He’s sneering at you, delighting in your innocent distress.

You look straight into his devilish eyes, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. He’s so massive you’re certain he’ll break you in two when he enters, but you know you have to try. You have to try for your Lord.

“I will do whatever it takes to please you, my Lord,” you say in a shaky whisper.

Lord Sukuna hums in satisfaction, and both his appendages are pushing into you before you can blink. You almost faint, tears welling in your eyes. A strangled cry rips from your throat.

While your cunt sucks him in, your ass struggles to reject him, the muscles clenching securely together around the head. Lord Sukuna hisses, but he savagely drives in, bullying his thick second cock through the puckered opening until both of his cocks are nestled deep in your abdomen.

You cry – fat, heavy tears rolling down your spluttering cheeks and splashing on your Lord’s torso. You feel as though you’re being ripped apart, stretched to your absolute limits. You’re fluttering around both of his shafts, and you hear your Lord groan, his grip on your hips digging in until his nails have drawn blood.

“Tight… so fucking tight…”

You barely register the ragged agony of his hoarse grunts. You struggle to adjust to the sensation of feeling stuffed, the feeling of your organs rearranging themselves to fit both his cocks. The pain subsides, and it’s replaced by a thrumming ecstasy humming through your veins. Lord Sukuna has yet to move, but you’re already moaning, lightly rocking your hips back and forth on his lap.

“Be still, brat,” Lord Sukuna snarls.

You can’t stop. You can feel his shafts pressing together between your thin walls, and the friction of them sliding together, sliding against you is unbearable. You need to feel more.

You rock harder. Electricity buzzes through your bothered body, and you’re swept up in the irresistible lust of exhilarating ecstasy. The other ladies have always made being with a man sound so sinfully pleasant, but this… You let out a long, drawn-out groan. This is just heavenly.

“Lord Sukuna…” you lewdly moan. “Please…”

You’re barely moving on his lap, and you’re aching for more…

Lord Sukuna growls as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, the heady pain intermingling with the juddering electric tingles careening through your center. He re-positions his hands so he’s grasping your ass, and then he thrusts sharply bouncing you up and down on his lap.

He slams into you fiercely, and you see stars, overwhelmed by the white-hot heat sizzling up and down your spine, desperately mewling your Lord’s name.

“Lord Sukuna… Ngh… my Lord,” you cry out.

His hips are bucking into you at an inhuman speed, and you’re keening, practically frothing at the mouth, drool leaking from the corners of your lips.

You’ve never felt rapture like this before in your life.

“Fuck,” Lord Sukuna rasps, each word tumbling out of his mouth laced with a bite. “Such a good… fucking… brat.”

All the sensations… the sound of Lord Sukuna’s guttural grunts, the feel of his blistering body, the woody scent of his musk, the heat of his cocks… builds into an all-consuming, overpowering pressure.

Lord Sukuna’s teeth sink into you again, and as if a pin has poked a bursting balloon, you explode. You’re blinded by a vicious white light, violent tremors shuddering through your taut body.

One of your hands curls in his hair, yanking the strands wound in between your fingers, and your back arches, your breasts pressing into his firm chest, your closed eyes rising to the ceiling.

“Sukuna… Sukuna… Sukuna,” you passionately scream your Lord’s name so overcome you forget to add his title to his name, a crime punishable by death, but neither you nor your Lord realize the indecency of how you’re calling out his name.

Your screams throw Lord Sukuna into a frenzy, rutting into you even faster than his frightening pace before. 

“Goddamn… brat…”

You’re clamping down on him uncontrollably, and then you feel it… You feel his body tense under yours, and you feel spurt after spurt of his cum flooding into you, spraying your insides white and coating you with his seed. Relentless waves of his release fill every crevice and ridge, and with nowhere else to go, it spills out the sides, puddling beneath you in a torrential, sticky mess.

You slump forward, supporting yourself against his built shoulders, weakly shaking from the violence of your euphoric climax. You don’t have to see yourself to know your eyes are glazed over, your mind a muddled daze. 

Lord Sukuna gently lifts you from his lap and lays your worn out form on his futon in a manner uncharacteristic of his usual gruff demeanor. Your cloudy eyes droop half-closed. Your limp limbs quiver. You almost don’t notice him covering you with a light blanket or calling for Uraume because you’re far from lucid, so drained and spent you're barely clinging to the last shred of consciousness.

You don’t hear Uraume enter. You don’t move when Uraume lifts you in their arms. 

You’re quickly fading.

You close your eyes, surrendering to your exhaustion, but before the cloying tendrils of sleep can steal you away, Lord Sukuna’s command floats into your foggy mind. Your last thought before you drift away completely.

“Get her cleaned up and settled in the adjoining room. I think I’m going to enjoy this one.”

[theemissuniverse]

i feel like some mk characters would definitely break the bed or headboard during sex.

like not rough fucking either, like they could just be so into it that it happens.

if that makes sense😭

BREAKING THE BED MK MALE CHARACTERS

SUMMARY : Title is obvi

A/N : every single time I see people talking about this, my mind just resorts back to twilight breaking dawn part 1 when Edward broke the headboard LMAO

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, cumming, squirting, unsafe p in v, size kink, probably some other stuff I forgot

MASTERLIST

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 CHARACTERS

Liu Kang hadn’t had sex since he created the timeline. That meant that he hadn’t had sex for eons. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to but Liu Kang was not the type of man to just screw other women randomly just to get his release. He couldn’t do that even if he wanted to. If he were to have intimacy then he had to do it with someone that he loved.

Luckily for you, you were that someone. He loved you more than anything. More than himself, more than life itself. He’d do anything for you no matter what.

So here he was, in the bed with you. He was on top of you while you laid on your back, looking into his eyes. Liu Kang found that making eye contact while he thrusted in you was more intimate than anything.

Your nails felt good scratching on his back. Your heavy pants filled the room. Liu Kang went slow but efficient. It was your guy’s first time so he didn’t want to over do it by going at such a rough and fast pace.

“Oh, yes. Yes. Liu Kang.”

You saying his name made it one hundred times harder for him to control himself. I mean the man hadn’t had intimacy for eons and now he was having it with you.

Liu Kang would kiss your shoulder and your cheek whispering how much he loved you before placing his hands on the headboard. He continued to go slow but hard into you.

He was hitting all your good spots. Liu Kang was certain that there would be love marks on his back from how you were scratching at it with your nails. (Though he wasn’t complaining.)

“Please don’t stop. I love you.”

Nothing turned Liu Kang on more than you telling him that you loved him. He started to pant himself. He felt uncontrollable fire come through his hands and with that, the headboard broke.

It fell behind the actual bed. Liu Kang stopped and covered you to make sure that none of the remaining pieces would fall on you.

He looked at what he had done and then back to you. He gave you an apologetic look. “I’m so-“

He couldn’t even get it out before you pulled him into a kiss. Liu Kang accepted the kiss.

The two of you pulled away. You gave him a smile. “If I didn’t have sex for literal eons I would’ve broke the bed too.”

Liu Kang chuckled at you. He kissed your neck some before thrusting back into you, making you moan. “You know I can’t control myself when I’m with you, love.”

Bi-Han was always presumed to have multiple women in bed. That was not the case. At all. He did not have time for women. Even if he was feeling really horny some days. He didn’t go out and get a woman to take his frustration out of. He still had traditional values and did not believe that it was okay.

That’s where you come in. Bi-Han wasn’t really concerned with love until he met you. Some days, it was hard for him to show it to you but you knew he meant well.

Bi-Han was on top of you while you laid on your back. He was going at a fast pace but he didn’t do it hard. He actually did care about you so he didn’t want to hurt you.

He wasn’t really affectionate during sex so you didn’t get any kisses or him telling you that he loved you. In fact, you didn’t get much of anything besides a few animalistic grunts. He wasn’t a talker in general when he had intimacy.

“Oh yes. Please. Bi-Han. It feels so good.”

He did love it when you talked though. Bi-Han had an ego so him knowing he was making you feel this good turned him on to no end.

He continued to thrust in you fast. The sound of skin to skin contact was heard along with your moans and his heavy breathing.

“Yes. I need you. Please. I need you.”

Bi-Han grunted at your words and placed his hands on the headboard of the bed. He stopped his such fast pace and went a bit harder this time.

“Right there. Right there. Oh yes.”

Maybe it was because Bi-Han didn’t really have intimacy or maybe it was because your moans were driving him crazy but Bi-Han lost control.

Ice started to freeze the headboard of the bed. Then the headboard broke completely because of that.

Bi-Han stopped thrusting in you and he watched as the pieces fell either behind the bed or on the side.

He sighed, annoyed. “I do not feel like getting that fixed.”

You shrugged with a smirk on your face. “Should’ve controlled yourself more.”

“I’ll show you control..” Bi-Han placed himself back in you making you moan. This time, he really was going to show you no mercy.

Syzoth never had intimacy in his human form for what was obvious reasons. Of course he never felt the need to because he had a wife and she was in her true form. So, what would be the point for him to take on his human form?

Well, now there was you and you were obviously human so Syzoth didn’t feel like having sex in his true form would be the best idea. At least right now.

So, he was going to try it in his human form for you. He had you laying on your back while he was on top of you. He warned you though that with his species, they can become incredibly aggressive and territorial during intimacy. You didn’t believe him.

You should’ve believed him.

Syzoth wasn’t going at a speed where you couldn’t handle it but he was going fast and rough with you. Unlike most men, he was a talker but that was probably just his true nature showing.

“Oh gods. You feel so good, (Y/N).” Syzoth rubbed all over your body as he spoke.

“Mmhm. You feel even better, baby.”

Syzoth bent down to your level and kissed you sloppy. You accepted the sloppy kiss and Syzoth began to tongue kiss you. You were no match for his tongue though. It was useless fighting against him.

His tongue started to lick all over your neck before he sucked on your neck. You moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Mine. All mine.” He told you.

Syzoth felt your breasts and he gave them a good squeeze. He felt himself practically whining at how good you felt around him. It was all too much for him. “Please let me cum inside of you.” He kissed your shoulder and nibbled on it a little. “You’d look so pretty pregnant.”

He could say just about anything and you’d agree to it just because he was fucking you so good. “O-okay.”

Syzoth’s hands went on the headboard. He slowed up on his fast pace and focused more so going hard. You let out short gasps, unable to speak, “Oh, yes love. You look so pretty like that.”

He couldn’t help but go a little bit faster. “Have my babies. Have my babies.”

His nails dug into the headboard. He didn’t even realize it but with all his strength, the board broke.

Syzoth stopped, a little taken back at what he had done. He sighed to himself. “I thought I was controlling myself well.”

You gave him a ‘really’ look. “You call everything you did control?”

“Am I hurting you? Am I going too rough? Because I-“

You cut off his worries with a kiss. Syzoth kissed you back with the same amount of passion before you pulled away. “No, I like it a lot. You’re fine. I’m just teasing.” You grabbed onto Syzoth and pushed him back inside of you, making him hiss out of pleasure. “Now, keep going. I’m almost there.”

MORTAL KOMBAT 11 CHARACTERS

Shao Kahn was a man of many things and having multiple women worship him was one. The great thing about it was he didn’t have to force these women either. They worshiped him by their own free will. It only boosted his ego up.

That didn’t matter anymore now that he had you, his Empress now. None of those other women mattered. He had you and he was content with having just you.

Shao Kahn warned you about having intimacy with him and how big he actually was. You thought it was just that talk men have to hype themselves up.

Oh…you were wrong.

He had you laying on your back while he was on top of you. Shao filled you up completely. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Shao made sure to do slow but efficient thrusts. At least for right now as it would take some time for you to adjust to him.

You moaned every time he thrusted in you. Every time it got louder and louder. Shao Kahn was in heaven as he watched you fall apart on him again and again.

Your body twitched from the immense pleasure Shao was giving you. “That’s it. Take all of me.” He told you. He continued to give you slow strokes. “You can do it. You were made for me.”

Moaning at his words, you felt up all over your body. Shao watched you play with your breasts and he couldn’t help himself. He went a little bit faster.

A loud gasp came out your mouth at the change of pace. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head but Shao forced you to look at him. “I need to see those pretty eyes while I make you mine.”

Shao rubbed your stomach soothingly. “You are all mine. You belong to me.”

“Oh my god. Shao please.” You tried to run away from him but Shao grabbed onto your thighs. He picked them up and wrapped your thighs around his waist.

Shao Kahn kept thrusting in and out of you, grunting as he did so. You moaned louder. You tried to keep your eyes on him because you knew if he had to tell you again, it would be bad.

“It feels so good.” You could barely get out.

Telling him how good he was making you feel made his ego boost up. His hands placed on the headboard and he looked down at you. “Are you ready my Empress?”

You knew that meant he was going to go fast but you felt like you were more ready. You nodded to him and Shao Kahn started to go fast into you.

You thought it was going to hurt but it was good. Incredibly good. “Oh my god. Yes. Please. Just like that.”

Shao Kahn continued to fuck you into the bed, grunting while doing so. Usually, he would only care to get himself to cum but you were his Empress so it meant he cared to get you there too.

You were already almost there. “Oh my god. Please. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. Please, Shao.”

Shao Kahn continued to go at his same pace. That’s when he felt hot liquid on his chest. You had squirted on him.

He found this so attractive that he couldn’t contain himself anymore and he broke the headboard to the bed.

It didn’t break in pieces. He had ripped it off straight with his bare hands. He threw the headboard down and you gasped a little at the sight.

Shao Kahn looked at you with a smirk. He stopped thrusting in you. “What was that? Only a minute?”

You rolled his eyes at his cockiness and forced him to go back inside you. “Shut up and cum in me already.”

Kano always had women wanting him. I mean he was attractive, charming, and great in bed. Who wouldn’t want him? He was the perfect catch and he knew this. That was probably the bad thing about it because it made him cocky.

When he met you though? He kissed those other women goodbye. None of them mattered when he had you.

He had you laying on your back. He was on top of you. Kano gave you rough and fast thrusts, making your breasts jiggle up and down.

“Oh Kano. Please don’t stop.”

Kano loved it when you said his name. He typically wasn’t really that affectionate during intimacy but for you? He’ll do about anything.

He kissed you on the lips. His pace didn’t stop. You moaned into his mouth. Kano began to suck all over your bottom lip.

Kano’s kisses went to your neck and he nibbled all around your sensitive areas. You moaned louder. “Please. Kano. You feel so good inside of me.”

“I know, love.” Kano licked all over your neck like he was hungry for you. “How bout you let me cum inside of you? You’d feel even better.”

Kano could tell you to do just almost anything and you’d do it in a heartbeat the way he was fucking you into the bed. “Oh god, yes. Please cum inside me. Please. I need you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Kano’s hands went on the headboard and he went even harder inside of you. He watched as your mouth fell open and your eyes roll back into your head.

“Oh yes. Give it to me. Oh, yes. Give it to me.”

Kano groaned at your words but didn’t stop his pace. “You’re such a naughty girl.” One hand went to quickly slap your thigh before placing it back on the headboard. “My naughty girl.”

Your pussy clenching onto him was far too much for him. Kano himself started to pant. Then he felt the headboard break.

It didn’t break drastically. It just broke in half. Kano stopped thrusting in you and looked down at you.

The two of you didn’t say a word. There was silence. And then you two started to laugh. You two laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Kano leaned down and kissed you on the lips. “Oh, you drive me crazy, love.” He told you before going back to thrust into you.

Hanzo didn’t really have it in himself to have intimacy anymore after the death of his wife. He felt there was no purpose in doing it if he wasn’t in love. So, he just didn’t have it.

Then he met you. The now love of his life. Everything changed about him then. Hanzo now had the desire to make love to you.

He was a bit nervous though considering that he hadn’t had intimacy in a long time but you constantly reassured him that it would be fine.

Hanzo had you laying on your back while he was on top of you. He gave you slow but hard thrusts. His eyebrows squinted in pleasure as he made love to you. If you felt like this all this time, he wished he had done it sooner.

He didn’t mind at you clawing at his arms. It barely felt like anything to him. Hanzo made sure you felt comfortable and loved each time he went in and out.

“Hanzo please.” You cried out. “I need you.”

Hanzo groaned at your words before kissing you. As if he would lose you the next day. As he kissed you, he went a little bit faster causing you to moan in his mouth.

“You feel so good, my love.” He told you. He kissed your forehead and focused on his fast pace.

Your moans filled the room along with his panting. Hanzo felt like he could cum at any moment but he would wait until you had gotten there first.

He didn’t think he could wait.

Hanzo’s hands went to the headboard. As much as he loved your moans, he was trying to drown them out. They were just turning him on more to the point where he felt like he was about to cum.

You noticed that his eyes were closed. Probably concentrating. You rubbed all up on his chest. “What’s wrong, Hanzo?”

You were driving him absolutely crazy and he didn’t think he could hold it much longer. “Trying to wait for you, my love.”

Chuckling, you brought him a little closer to kiss him softly on the lips. He accepted the kiss. Then you pulled away. “That’s sweet of you but you do not have to wait for me, darling. You can cum in me now.”

He liked that he had your permission but he still was trying to wait for you. His hands gripped on the headboard even more. He couldn’t hold it. “Oh, (Y/N). Oh my love.”

You knew he was cumming. You rubbed up and down his chest to help him with your soft touches. “That’s right, darling. Cum inside of me.”

Hanzo came hard in you. His hands created fire and it completely broke the headboard.

The two of you gasped at that. Hanzo stopped the fire and he looked at you to make sure you were okay. “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“I apologize. I did not mean to lose control like that.”

You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before speaking. “It’s okay. It’s was hot.” You decided to joke.

Hanzo shook his head and kissed your cheek. “You and your terrible puns.” He went back inside of you, making you moan. “We’re not done here. I’m not finished until you finish.”

[daphwritesworld]

#11 k. mccabe— LUNCH.

content: pussy eating (both receiving), face humping (k receiving) lots of kissing and making out lol, fingering (r receiving), public/beach sex, groping, drinking wine, tattoos, grumpy morning! reader, top!Katie, bottom!reader

warnings: mentions of tattoos, tabloids posting personal info/photos, mentions of a dvd player bc I'm old and still use them

synopsis: A much needed rest day has finally come for you and your girlfriend. She's got everything planned out for you both, from a secret appointment, to a movie date, and finally treating you to a nice lunch on the beach.

requested: yes

word count: 5.6k

!! MINORS DNI!! 18+ CONTENT

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An arm sliding around your waist is what you notice first in your daze of slumber. Your mind still hasn’t caught up yet, too focused on how cozy the bed is. But suddenly you’re being pulled to the middle of the mattress, your back hitting a chest as you snuggle into the warmth. You swear you could pass back out even easier now, the new heat source making you even more comfortable. It had been a long night celebrating your anniversary, especially since you both had a game first. You’d won 4-1 Arsenal, so the girls gladly helped you party the night away…but today is about doing all the things you weren’t free to do alone yesterday. 

“Time to get up, my darling.” Katie’s voice is always so thick with her accent first thing in the morning. The raspiness always gets to you, and she knows it, too. She’s often taken full advantage of your weakness for her morning voice. She loves whispering the dirtiest of things into your ears at the crack of dawn and letting her hands roam across your body, teasing you until you’re begging for her touch. Then she’ll flip it on you, clicking her tongue as she scolds you for running you both late to practice. “What am I gonna do with you, pretty girl? Always making us late.”

You turn around in her hold, burying your face into her neck as she starts to rub your back. The early ambiance of the outside world slowly creeps inside, like the birds chirping and cars starting to fill up the streets. You can still smell the body wash she used last night on her skin, taking in a deep breath of it as you exhale in a sleepy sigh, “Five more minutes, please baby.”

“Okay, hun..but only five more. Then we gotta get ready for the day, alright?” She’s met with a small snore from between your lips. Already back to being dead to the world in her arms. Her chest shakes with a silent laugh at that, trying not to disturb you before your times up. Katie slowly pulls your head back, resting it on her pillow so she can examine your face. There have been many days where she’s watched you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but in an endearing way. She’d often wake up before you and just admire how beautiful you look while deep in slumber. You’re like a piece of art lying perfectly in motion, her personal Mona Lisa who stepped out of the painting. Gripping the canvas as you pulled your way to be in the world of the living and took refuge in her heart. You’ve burrowed your way into her soul, carved out a spot there, and made a permanent home…but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She knew you’d be trouble for her the first day you attended practice after signing with Arsenal. Strolling right in with that perfect smile on your dumb gorgeous face, and effectively distracting her for all of warm-ups. She’d gone pretty hard on you that first day during drills, taking the frustrations of her attraction out on the pitch. And after all the teasing, slide tackles, and pushes she’d sent your way, that still didn’t stop you from coming over in the locker room and telling her she played well that day. A hand extended to shake hers and that stupid smile appeared back on your face, making her heart almost burst out of her chest (for about the tenth time that day). Katie swears to this day that her brain short-circuited at that moment. You were standing in front of her covered in grass and dirt stains, and she had been the cause of them….but you still looked like a goddess standing before her, reaching out an olive branch in the shape of your perfectly painted nails. 

For the first time in her life, Katie McCabe was rendered speechless. Blubbering her mouth silently like a fish out of water before jutting her hand out to take yours. As you shook hands all Katie could concentrate on was how soft your skin was, like an invitation to never let go. You giggled while watching her, “You’re cute.” 

As you slipped away from her, she stood frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. You turned at the door before you left, shooting her that paralyzing smile one last time, “See you on the pitch, McCabe…and close your mouth. Wouldn’t want our star defender catching any flies now would we?” And just like that you were gone out of the room, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her frontal cortex shattered onto the floor below her. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been a little over five years since then, and only four months since the proposal. You’re both currently living in your little bubble of love. Deciding together to keep the engagement to yourselves for at least two more months. The secrecy of sharing such an exciting and intimate moment from everyone in your lives has been fueling A LOT of sex between the two of you. In the locker room showers, the club meeting room, and numerous bathrooms or broom closets of whatever establishments the two of you have occupied. 

Katie sighs looking back at the clock, she’s already let you sleep an extra 10 minutes now. She knows how you are though, especially first thing in the morning. You’re usually her walking sunshine, radiating light off you everywhere you go. But you’re always her frumpy grump in the morning (as she likes to call you.) A frown and a furrow between your brows settle into your features as your sleepy eyes try to shut at any given moment. You’ve run into many, many walls that way..so Katie came up with a solution a few years back when you started living together: carrying you around like a koala bear until you can walk and function on your own.

Her arms secure you in her grip, hoisting you up as you stay sound asleep in her hold. She starts walking to the bathroom, knowing when she sits you on the counter it’s gonna wake you up. She turns the hot water in the shower on first, letting it warm up as she gets you up enough to hop in with her. The cold marble lights goosebumps across your skin as you jolt alive wakeful, your eyes snapping open to the bright lights above you. Your hips go to lift your thighs off the freezing countertop, but Katie’s hands stop you, pushing you to sit back down. Her hands slip under your shirt as you shiver at the feeling of her ring sliding across your warm skin, leaving a tingly feeling behind in its wake. 

A kiss graces the pulse point on your neck, Katie’s lips lingering as you start leaning into her more. The soft sucks and nips from her teeth start warming you up slowly. Like a fire brewing in your belly the more she teases you. She leans back for a second to pull you into a searing kiss, her nails digging into the skin of your waist now. It’s the kind of kiss that takes your breath away, leaves your face red, and panting for some fresh air when you pull apart. Katie pulls back enough to speak against your lips, “Time to get up and shower, sleepyhead.” 

Your face drops back into those distinct telltale signs that you’re frustrated. That’s made even more apparent by the way you cross your arms over your chest and let a scoff out into her face. Katie just smiles at you, used to your stink of an attitude in the morning after so many years. Honestly, at this point, if you ever woke up this early with a smile on your face she’d be racing you to the ER for a full workup of your brain. “You did not kiss me like that JUST so I’d get in the shower,” you narrow your eyes at her as you say it. “Are you saying I stink, McBabe?” you push her shoulder lightly with a pout on your lips. 

“Only your tude, darling….but your hair is looking a little doolally,” she says with a grimace on her face. The little smirk at the corner of her mouth gives way to her joking nature underneath though. You open your mouth to say something else all prickly, but she cuts you off with her fingers wiggling across your middle. Then she starts attacking you in flurry of kisses, all over your face as you struggle to get away from her.

“K-Kate! Katie s-stop!” Your hands come up to push at her stomach and chest, loud laughs ripping from your mouth as she relentlessly tickles you on the counter. “Pl-Please baby! Ok-Okay! I’ll get in t-the shower!” 

She pulls back at that, her infectious grin mirroring your own as she starts taking your clothes off. Leaving little kisses on your body as she concludes stripping you. She reaches for her shorts, but you slap her hand away. “Let me, love. Only fair that I repay the favor.” 

Your lips slot onto hers as your hands slip down her toned abdomen and start pulling her sleep shorts down her legs. No time is wasted as you instantly reach back up and take the band of her underwear into your fingertips. You rub the material through your fingers for a second, admiring the softness before they follow the path of her bottoms around her ankles. 

Then you’re gasping into her mouth as she’s backing you up into the counter you’d just been plucked off of. The articles of clothing that had taken home around her feet now kicked to the side, ironically right in front of the laundry bin. Her grip on your now bare hips disappears as she pulls away from your makeout. Using her now free hands to pull her sports bra off and toss it somewhere to be picked up later from the floor. 

She picks you back up, letting you wrap your legs around her waist as she leads you both to the now steaming shower. “I’m making you drive if all the hot water’s gone.”

Katie lightly slaps your ass as a response. The warm water surrounds you as she closes the door behind you both. She lowers you to stand on your own, hugging your back to her front as you both submerge under the downpour of the showerhead. “I’m always gonna be the one driving anyways darling, we both know that.” 

“Oh yeah? Says who?” 

“Says you miss pro passenger princess! I can’t remember one time you’ve ever sat in the drivers seat while we’ve been together…unless we’re counting when you’re on my lap while you let me–” 

“Okay! I get it, I get it!” You turn around and place a hand over her mouth, laughing as you come to terms with your new title. Deciding to tease her back a bit for causing the blush dusting your cheeks, “Don’t have to do a play-by-play for me. I know you love those, but leave our sex life out of your pregame rituals- EW KATIE!” 

She’s the one laughing now, smirking as she flicks her tongue back out at you. “That’s so gross, babe! My poor hand with your morning breath germs all over it!”

“Oh shut up! Acting like that same tongue wasn’t shoved inside your cunt less than 12 hours ago and been in your mouth ever since your pretty little eyes peeled open.” 

Your mouth shuts closed at that, the red on your cheeks deepening as you hide your face with your hands. “Okay, I’m not gonna argue with you there,” you breathe out between your fingers. You’re met with a kiss to the forehead as Katie pulls your hands away, chuckling as you reveal a small frown to her. 

“Turn around you goober, I’ll wash your hair. We really can’t mess around now or we’re gonna be late for our appointment,” she says while reaching for your shampoo. 

It’s always so relaxing when she does your hair for you some days. You used to always laugh at first because it reminded you of Charles from Brooklyn99 so badly. She never understood when you’d just burst out giggling like a madman and when she’d ask you’d just reply, “The most intimate thing you can do for a lover is wash their hair!” 

When you finally got her to agree to watch the show about a year after the shower routine started, she almost choked on her popcorn when she heard him say it. Yeah, she definitely chased you around the house before tackling you to the couch and tickling you as a punishment for making fun of her popcorn hazard. She really does love to use it as her weapon of certain surrender…because after five seconds you’re begging for a truce. 

The hints of apple and honey fill your nostrils as Katie’s fingers massage the cream into your scalp, pulling soft relieved sighs from your lips. She can physically see your body relax into hers at the act. She’d never admit it to you, but this really is the most intimate act she’s ever done with a lover…and it’s reserved just for you– promised forever now. 

“All finished, booger!” 

You turn around as she starts loading up her loofa, taking it from her grasp as you start doing it for her. It starts out innocently– it really does, okay! But like most things with Katie, they don’t stay that way for long. You can’t help but fall to your knees as the loofa runs clean water down her body now, the last of the suds swirling down the drain. “What are you doing, doll? I told you we can’t waste any more time messing around,” her hand comes to rest on the top of your head.

“And I told you I’d repay the favor last night, and I think we’ve established I don’t like leaving empty promises, baby.” Your hands run up her legs, stopping to run your nails up her inner thighs. The hand on your head turns into fingers in your hair as she lets a growl out, pulling your head up. “Stick your tongue out, darling.” 

You do as she says, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. Her hand moves more towards the back of your head as she pushes your face into her cunt, her shoulders hitting the cold tiles as she guides your head. Her nipples get hard from the contact off the wall, a shiver running down her spine as you start sucking on her clit. Your hands go up to grab her hips, trying to ground yourself as you get lost in the taste of her. 

“Just like that, fuck babe.” She’s gritting her teeth now, planting her footing before grinding her pussy down onto your mouth. “Open your– fuck! Open your eyes for me, love.”

And Jesus fuck you had to fight the urge to let them roll into the back of your skull when you do. She’s staring down at you with those alluring eyes, her long wet hair thrown onto one shoulder, and her abs flexing as she grinds down onto your eager mouth. You moan just at the sight, flicking your tongue on her clit as you let one of your hands come down to replace it. Then you push your tongue inside of her, desperate for a true taste of what you know she has to offer. 

“Pussy drunk aren’t you, darling?” she laughs out, holding you completely still as she puts a little more pressure onto your face as she humps into your tongue harder. The water running down her perfectly sculpted body is reflecting off the light coming into the bathroom. A sign of the little time you two really have, the rest of the world carrying on as you’re frozen in the spot between her legs. Your knees are aching and your jaws getting sore, but that bleeds into the background noise as Katie lets out a knee-wobbling moan. 

Her eyes burn into yours as her legs start to shake around your head, and you start grinding your face back up into her as she comes down. The roll of her hips bumping her clit into your nose in the chaos, more sweet sounds tumbling from her lips. She cums with a groan of your name falling from her lips, the hand in your hair dragging you up her body.

You let your tongue trace its way up her body as she brings you up to meet each other’s lips in a messy kiss. Tasting herself all over your mouth as she walks back under the main stream of water, you squeal from the chill from the now heatless water. She quickly washes you both up before hurrying from the shower, a new skip in her step for the day. 

It only takes you both about 15 minutes to get ready, you in a nice flowy sundress that Katie had surprised you with last night in the early a.m. hum of London. You’d stumbled in all tipsy, horny, but determined to swap your gifts before bed, and by god, you got it done, too. Like did you look at them for 5 seconds and then instantly sit them on the coffee table and fuck for three hours straight around on different surfaces of the house?...The answer would be yes. BUT hey you got the prioritized goal done before going at it like animals and that’s all that matters in your book. 

Katie walks into the bathroom where you’re finishing up your makeup, and your eyes almost pop out of your head. She’s wearing an outfit that throws you headfirst into ovulation early. There she stood in her tight tan crop top and white flowy pants. The glasses you had gifted her two birthdays ago, a gold necklace with your initial hanging from it, and the gold watch you bought her for your first anniversary to match.

It all comes together to make a delicious sight for your viewing. She comes up behind you, arms bulging as she places her hands beside you on the same countertop you’d made out on earlier. “Stop ogling me, we’re gonna be late you perv!” 

You roll your eyes at her before finally zipping up your makeup bag. You put on some lipgloss before tucking it in your purse and moving to go put your shoes on. “Wear comfy ones, I’ve got a surprise for you at lunch!” she calls out across the room as she sees you approaching the shoe rack on your side of the closet. You give her a questioning look, wondering why you’d need comfy shoes for whatever restaurant she’s chosen…but nonetheless, you comply. Slipping on some sandals to match your dress, and to show off your matching nails of course (courtesy of being paid for by your girlfriend). 

You arrive at the tattoo parlour right on time, not a moment to spare. You hop out of the car and rush inside hand in hand with Katie. She leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head after she’s talked with the man at the front, “You’re so lucky we weren’t late or you’d be in big trouble, missy.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” you whisper back at her, “but we weren’t, so live a little, babe.” 

She just shakes her head at you, following behind the heavily inked man in front of you until he pulls the curtains back to an empty room. He leads you inside and pats the freshly cleaned black leather chair, “Alright who’s going first?” 

—

When you leave the shop you’ve both got a huge smile on your face, hands intertwined and swinging as you skip to the car. “I can’t believe we really did that, Katie!” 

“Best believe we did, darling! Now you’re really stuck with me forever,” she pulls you back into her arms. Stopping on the sidewalk to take this moment in with you. 

“And always,” you say barely above a whisper, but it’s enough for just Katie to hear. Your fingertips move as gently as ever as they trace along her ribs, right under her left boob where the fresh ink lays eternally embedded into her skin. You’d both gotten matching ones– a cliche I know– but it was something you’ve both wanted for a while. Hers saying, “go deo” and yours, “i gconai” in the same spot. It’s a promise to each other that’s permanently carved into your persons; a pledge of forever and always. As cheesy as it sounds the words hold dear for you both, and the Gaelic spelling gives a deeper connection as well. 

Katie swears she feels her heart stop beating in her chest as the sounds of the city become nothing but white noise, her body leaning into yours as you share a soft, yet passionate kiss in the busy bustle of the city. You almost don’t want to pull apart, but the remembrance of your surprise is what fuels you to break away and start tugging her toward where she parked the car. “Come on, move it McBabe! I heard we’ve got a plan for lunch, and I’m dying to see what you’ve got arranged!” 

After a 3-and-a-half-hour ride, you finally reach your destination. She’s brought you to Priory Beach, the place you went to on your second-anniversary trip. She leads you out to a white tent on the side of the beach, out of the way enough for some privacy between you two. As she leads you closer you feel tears gathering in your eyes at the sight. There’s not just a tent, but blankets spread out, too. A mini table is set up full of your favorite picnic foods, a vase with your favorite flowers, two wine glasses, and your favorite red bottle to accompany it. A little fully charged DVD player is under the table, and the movie you two watched on your first date sits right beside it. But the polaroids of you two hanging from the white tull-wrapped arch is what does it for you, and before you know it you’re crying like a baby. 

Katie pulls you into her arms as she hugs you, a panicked look on your face as she does. “Oh lord, I’m sorry darling! I didn’t mean to make you upset or anything-”

“No! No! I love it!” you pull back quickly, your shiny eyes meeting her terrified ones. “It’s just..no one’s ever done anything this sweet for me. It’s a lot to take in, okay!” 

She throws her head back and cackles at the realization. “Oh yeah? Not even like…oh, I don’t know, say getting a matching tattoo?” She teases as she wipes your tears away with her thumbs, now cradling your face in her hands. 

“Shut up! You know what I meant, babe!” 

She puts a hand on her chest and acts like she’s just been shot at close range, “Not even McBabe? Oh, see you are mad at me!” She lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping down onto the blanket as she gets on her knees and takes your hands into hers begging for your forgiveness. You quickly do, laughing at her antics before she pulls you down to sit with her. It’s a beautiful view to have as you eat. The waves roll in as a backdrop to the movie as it plays. It’s really all just background music to the endless conversation between you two, the wine keeps flowing, and the hours keep ticking by. But it’s barely been 20 minutes to you both. Too busy drowning out the world around you as you get lost in each other’s eyes and voices, retelling the best moments of your love story as you reflect on how you’ve got to where you are today. “Oh, wow! The lights are a beautiful touch!” you gasp as they flick on, lighting up your space as the sun sets before you. The movie’s long been over and the DVD player dead for a while, too. You take a sip from your last glass of wine and lean your head on Katie’s shoulder, taking in the beauty of the scenery that you’re able to see up close and personal right now. The oranges, pinks, and reds reflect off the water. Ripples of incomprehensible vibrant colors all mashing into one to create an unforgettable memory. “Should we take a picture of the sunse– what are you looking at?” you cut yourself off as you look up at her, the last part of your sentence becoming a whisper. She’s just staring at you, with this unreadable expression on her face, it’s truly one you’ve never seen before (at least not awake). 

“You’re just so beautiful. I wake up every day in awe that it’s me you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your life with. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I thank god every night that I’m holding you to my chest. I get to experience the best parts of life because of you, and I’ll never be able to truly repay you for that, y/n…but thankfully I’ve got the rest of our lifetime together to try.”

You can feel the weight of her words as she speaks them. There’s no smile, laugh, or distraction in her voice. She’s confessing to you, like a sinner in a catholic church. Spilling the contents of her soul out onto the staircase of your heart, and leaving it there for you to either clean it up or let it soak into the deepest parts of you. So you lean up and press your lips against hers. Katie grabs your face, turning you around as she yanks you onto her lap. Your half-empty wine glass goes flying, landing in the sand beside the blanket as the wine leaks into the ground staining it dark. 

You want to say something back to her, but your brain is just mush. It’s like she’s stolen all the thoughts out of your head and you’re just floating in this bliss called her. You’re starting to think she was onto something when she said you fried her brain that one day because holy fuck you’re really humping your fiance’s lap on a public beach right now without a care in the world like you two aren’t famous athletes. “Mmm Katie– someone could s-see us,” you can barely get it out as she keeps her lips on yours. 

“Then let them,” she says it so casually into your lips that you almost listen to her, but one of you has to be the responsible one. So you pull back and give her your best kicked-puppy look, a pout dancing on your bottom lip, “Please, baby. I don’t want to end up on the front page of some tabloid– at least not till I’m officially Mrs. McBabe.” 

She looks at you while biting on her bottom lip, her brows furrowed as she thinks of something deep in thought. You tilt your head at her after a few seconds, placing a hand on her shoulder to check on her. “Baby? Are you ok–OH MY G–” You’re cut off twice. The first time when she manhandles you into the air. The second one is when she continues to manhandle you between her thighs, resting your back on her chest and a hand over your mouth. “Shhh darling! Wouldn’t want to ruin my plan now would you?”

You shake your head no, still not able to use your voice. So she slowly moves her hand away from your mouth, and lets it slide up the inside of your thigh. “Your dress is long enough to hide my hand, and you can hide your face in my neck if you want to, okay? I promise no one will see us” and you nod your head in response. 

“I need to hear you say it. Is this okay with you, y/n?” Her voice is suddenly stern, a hint of her softness peaking out to wrap around the words in a thin veil. 

“Yes baby, j-just please touch me already! God, I’ve needed you since you kissed my breath away this morning.” 

Katie groans into your mouth as she crashes them back together, her fingertips digging into the skin of your upper thighs as they inch up closer to your heat. When they reach your pussy she’s met with instant wetness and a loud breathy moan from you. A laugh rumbles up in her throat and vibrates your mouth as they stay connected, “No panties? Fuck baby you’ve been needing it bad all day, huh?”

You whine out at her teasing, raising your hips up as you search for her touch. Bucking wildly as your body begs for her fingers. “Okay shhh, shhh. I’ve got you now, love. Calm down,” as her digits run up and down your slit. They collect the unfathomable amount of wetness onto her fingers, your pussy leaking like a hydrant for her. She slides a single finger in first, not wanting to overwhelm you before you’re ready. 

“Add another one, please,” you say through a small moan. 

“Only cause you asked so sweet,” she smirks back at you. “My sunshine girl.”

So she slides her finger out and quickly returns with a second one buried inside your cunt. She’s fucking you a little faster now, the reluctance from your tight walls finally letting up. You’re biting your lip, muffled little cries of pleasure audible to Katie’s ears solely. 

Her other hand finds its way into the top of your dress, popping a hand underneath your bra as she starts groping your breasts. She makes sure she gives them both equal attention, switching out every so often to not overstimulate you. Her lips find shelter on your neck, leaving little pecks when and where she wants. But when you start grinding down onto her fingers, she decides to add another one by surprise this time. 

It rips a louder moan from your mouth, especially since her thumb is adding to the mix and rubbing circles onto your clit now. Your body wants to squirm away, but you’re stuck between Katie’s legs, being forced into letting the pleasure wreck through your body. “I’m g-gonna cum, baby!”

You feel a smile against your jaw, “You’re my pretty fucking fiancé, yeah? I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you, darling. Can’t wait to make love to you as my wife– my other half.” 

 she’s starting to ramble and it’s going to be your downfall. The feeling of her curling them to hit right into her sweet spot draws you even closer to the edge, “Let it all out, darling. Cum on and give it to me!”

And so you do. Your hand comes around to grip her wrist through your sundress, your nails digging into her skin as you flail around in her hold. Your back arches away from her chest and your toes curl as they kick out in front of you. Your walls squeeze her fingers so tight she has to stop moving them as she’s biting love marks into your skin, trying to let this orgasm run its course as long as it can. You swear you’ve never cum this hard– positively boneless in her hold. 

You hiss at the slight sting as she pulls them out of you, immediately bringing them up to her mouth for a detailed cleaning with her tongue. Her eyes roll back at the flavor of you that hits her tastebuds, and she’s manhandling you onto your back this time. The soft blankets swallow you up as you lay down submerged in them, “Wh-what are you doing, K-Katie?”

“I just need to clean you up a bit, baby. I’ll be fast, I promise. Can’t have you all messy the whole ride home, now can we?” You should’ve known at the sight of her smirk right then…that it was going to be anything but speedy, but alas you have fallen victim to the tongue game of Katie McCabe once again. Your legs thrown open wide, back arched off the ground, hand on her head as it disappears under your dress, and a brand new tabloid with a picture of that exact scene on the front page the next morning. But one detail does stick out enough to add it to the headline..the shiny diamond ring on your finger, only visible from the light off of the set up she made you. 

“You can’t even tell that’s us, darling! It’s too dark, we’re fine. Just gotta deny deny deny,” Katie says like she’s a genius. A proud smirk on her face as she tries to pry you out from underneath your fortress of the duvet. 

“THEY HAVE PHOTOS OF US IN THOSE EXACT OUTFITS ALL OVER THE CITY THAT SAME DAY!” it’s shouted from under your mound of protection..not for you– but for Katie. If looks could kill she’d of been dead 10 times before now, all hell breaking loose after you woke up, and not five minutes later you’re getting bombarded with texts of screenshots and links. 

“Okay your right…this is serious, baby, I'm sorry…So should we start the onlyfans on our honeymoon? I could retire ear–”

“KATIE!” And if that wasn’t enough to know you didn’t like that joke, then the pillow to the face should definitely get your mood across.

[readychilledwine]

Okay, I have a request for you that is no pressure, but Reader enjoys praise loves when she is being acknowledged for doing good and being good but doesn't know how to accept but their lover(and I have no idea would best fit this. My heart says Cassian, but realistically, it's probably Az or Eris) talks them through it shows them they don't need to be flustered.

Please ignore if this makes no sense

Self Worth

Summary - Cassian can't stand seeing you so low

Warnings - insecure reader, praise, mentions of mental health slipping

A/N - just a little baby fic of how Cassian would handle his mate needing her self-esteem and self worth built up 💕

✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️

"Look me in my eyes and tell me the female I love isn't good enough again," Cassian was being as gentle as he could. You were shying away from him, eager for his praise, but instantly falling into that shell the second he gave it. "Look me in my eyes and tell me why the female I love cannot look at me after I tell her how beautiful she is today."

"I-" The words died on your tongue. No excuse you could find would appease him. No excuse would make him forgive you for whispering to him that you weren't enough. Weren't brave enough, pretty enough, strong enough. You saw the way he admired Nesta and Feyre. The way he admired Mor.

You didn't see the way he looked at you, though. He looked at you as if you had made the very world, as if you had forged him to be exactly how you needed him to be. You pushed him yo be that male, pushed him to be better. To be good. You made Cassian see the beauty in the world, the beauty in others. Perhaps that is why it hurt him that you could not see the beauty in you.

"I just never feel like I'm doing enough. Like there's no way you want me, want my body, want me to be-"

"Stop," he interrupted you immediately. He hid the break in his voice so well, hid how just a few words instantly shattered his heart. "You're struggling again, aren't you angel?" His eyes studied you hard as you nodded silently. "Y/n, you've been working so hard for Rhys, being the perfect emissary. You single handedly started the process of him and Tamlin creating a trade route, of him and Dawn beginning a joint training program between the Peregryn and Illyrians. Angel, you are doing so well and working so hard."

Your chest started to feel heavy, breathing becoming rapid, and Cassian instantly put his hands on your upper arms. He began to exaggerate his breathing, forcing you to follow it and calm down. "You are beautiful, you are special, you are kind. You are my mate, Y/n. You will never have to worry about competition or me not loving a single inch of you. I am proud to be yours. Proud you wanted me."

You looked up at Cassian, eyes lined in tears, "Really? You don't wish I was a.. a fighter?"

He laughed softly, "If you could fight, why would you need me? My job is to protect you. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Even if that means protecting you from yourself." He leaned in and kissed your forehead. "You are beautiful. Say it for me."

"I-" You paused, taking a deep breath. "I am beautiful."

Cassian's smile grew, "Good job, angel. Tell me five things you love about you."

You bit your lip thinking, "My eyes," he groaned in pleasure at that answer. "My humor," he whispered yes softly. "My butt-"

"Fuck yes your ass," Cassian turned you quickly to smack it before turning you around. "Continue."

You giggled at him, "My kindness," he shut his eyes smiling. "And... I think.."

"No. Not think. You know you love this last thing. Tell me again," he demanded.

You nodded more confidently, "I love my smile." Cassian held your face in his hands again. "Because when I smile, you smile, then I smile more."

"Seeing you glowing and happy makes me happy," he said. "Every day we do 5 things you love about you, then I'm going to spend the day praising them until that self Worth gets back up again, okay angel?"

"Okay, Cassie."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

[theastrical]

genshin men confessing their feelings for you

diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, zhongli, childe x reader

DILUC

diluc has always been keeping an eye on you for these past few months, either from having you as his now co worker at the tavern or…just by you existing. Not to mention that you guys are best friends and have been caught in the middle of everything in everywhere back when you guys were young…so working with him as your boss feels weird-although it doesn’t hide your excitement to be with him.

You won’t wonder or bother, since it hasn’t given you an answer around certain question that pop ups. So you continued your job per usual-You’re currently serving some customer and cleaning the cups, also the cigars bar that has been rusty since the dawn of man by this point. Diluc is beside you, making mocktails and cocktails for the rest of the customer.

Later-“Can we talk for a moment, outside..?” He whisper while you’re in the middle of cleaning the last cup; your head immediately charmed up by his question. His eyes look at yours, deeply-memorising yours, Hoping to get your spare minute. “Sure! What’s up?”, your reply seems to be a turn on, his shoulder gone straight and he looks more lifelike than before.

He went outside from the tavern and look at you, straight up, no talk, just…dreaming, wondering if you would ever say yes to him. “Look, it’s a bad timing but i..just couldn’t help it…” he paused. Looking at your eyes one more time. “….would you be delighted if i called you mine..?” He asked you nervously-you know that voice-he’s scared of rejection. And you’re scared if he actually loves you back…because you do-you realise, you loved him even tenfold than how younger you would..and with some pause between you both-your voice a bit tender, shaky, and scared. “Yes, i would love to diluc..”

KAEYA

Kaeya has always been such a teaser. You guys meet each other ever since you joined the knights of favonious-not as a knight though, you thought that’ll be too much of a hassle, but as a secretary. It’s not the best job, but they paid handsomely-with a burden as thick as a law book.

Kaeya would come and play, just visiting you in your office deliberately-searching for your antics to play with. At some point, it’ll be your…feelings or favorite things-but that’s okay, you always tolerate kaeya. You’ve never rejected him. Because deep down, you enjoyed being kaeya’s….play buddy-no, more than that.

Before going home, kaeya would usually play or spend time with you, especially when it’s raining-that’s the opposite for today. No sight of him. Just..plain old looking chair with nobody on that view. You prepare the files back on the shelf until you suddenly heard the creak of the door being pushed. “shit i’m wet from the rain…urgh…now the flowers are we—“ when he saw you all confused-he immediately excuse himself to “cough”-to restart as per his dictionary.

“My bad…uhm…soooooo are you going ho-“ “no” “oh ok sorry uhm…right..let me just get into it.” He immediately get to you, with his body all wet and his hair looking like a shrivelled wet cat, he gets the wet flower to your chest and “i like it better if you’re mine, so please take the flower if you’re willing to be one..” he smiles like a child, an innocent child that doesn’t know how all of this flutters your heart cohesively. So you take his flower and nod with a small smile…”sure capt..” he replied with a small peck on your cheek. “thanks cutie”

ALHAITHAM

alhaitham knows you well-he hopes you do as well. Since he has been preparing a certain sentence of asking you to be his for almost 5 days now. He’s nervous-which is weird for a guy who can fight as if his rent with kaveh has been due. But alhaitham is alhaitham, this man’s pocker face means the world is in calm-but internally, HIS WORLD is in torture from all of the overthinking session he has of you.

Today is your first preparation of your last project of the semester and you’re currently trying to reach out to your professor about the project you’ve made in hope of an approval-which turn out to be alhaitham’s agenda to persuade you softly but surely-by asking the professor to immediately get you an approval-you sure did get one just by having him near you-which is great but at the same time, your heart is on cloud nine just by having him help you directly; which also means that alhaitham’s agenda is working.

When you were off dreaming-He immediately holds your palm-looking at your eyes then-“follow me..” you both run upstair as he take your hand in his. Gently overlapping, in order to save place. After you both arrived, He suddenly gives you…something related to your last project, the analysis and journalism you needed.

“Thought you might need it…also..” he pauses for a moment before he takes your hand again. Gently cupping it. “If you need me more, then just be mine”..he swiftly says it, finally the nervousness has long gone and now enter the anxiety-waiting for your— “i need you everytime at this moment alhaitham, thank you and…sure…l-let’s be together..!” Your optimistic voice break his raging anxiety.

ZHONGLI

being his tea partner is so much more than a privilege, it’s a blessing by the gods. To give such a man to your pawn, to have that man listen and talk to you whilst you just enjoy the sight. He would always serves you the cup of tea first despite being the older one in this friendship-yet here he is, trying to serve your third cup of tea today.

You both are currently playing cards-this time, unlike any other card games you played before, he makes a challenge, the one who win will have to spoilt out some questions to the loser. “Are you fine with such a rule?” He asked, his voice luring you into his fine demeanor just like that and you wished every morning you’ll hear him greet you. “of course, as long as there’s no money related game, since i’m the epitome of broke”-you joke. He laughs quietly. “Surely not, that’s against the law and i would rather be arrested with a criminal, not a friend.”

You chuckled, he has a humor of an old man but his body is as fresh as a youngster-he’s weird and you wishes he can be more weirder when you’re near…a sign of being comfortable. He shuffles the card and gives it to you. You both played quite slowly, enjoying the pace as you both give each other some comments. “How come you’re choosing that card [name]…” he chuckles. “Why not! It’s my deck of cards..” …”oh? Hahaha..a bit feisty are we?” He pauses and-“done, i win.”

You were shocked. That man easily beat you as if you’re just a mosquito that happened to be crushed by his own hand. You’re a bit confused-at some point you can only sighed, until he starts the conversation for the challenge. “say..i would like to have a partner-a relationship partner, somebody who i…enjoy the company of..” he explains it as your heart drops knowing he’s about to announce his own crush which is in her mind-not her-never her. “And i think it’s you, [name], would you like to accompany me and be mine perchance?” He says that softly and with a smile. Suddenly your heart feels like it has just popped out. “Yes please..?” He hears that and laughs…“Hahah no needd for please, thank you, i love you..”

CHILDE

you’re a nurse who-somehow become childe’s caretaker. He struggles on keeping himself intact so he would always need your help on medicating him at certain points, visiting your clinic especially after breaking his bones or bruising up his knees after fight.

So every single day, in hopes of both of you meeting each other, there some certain wishes you guys can meet outside of being a nurse and outside of being a fatui who continues to suffer through their workloads. But childe doesn’t want to just meet you, he wants to be WITH you. It’s obvious enough for his co workers. He wants more than meeting you every single day in hope of you medicating him, he just wants you to be there, to tell him “get well soon” with love and not in regards of your passion.

This thought lingers upon him even in a heated battle, but one thing for sure, he will survive this, even with a huge scratch, he will survive in order to confess his feelings rightfully. He was stuck between death and small chance of survival at this point, but childe is fully convinced, he will survive for the sake of you or else he’ll curse himself.

He did. He finally did it. Although watching you cry over his body is not something he would ever like to memorise..but it’s the part where he realised, you care for him way more than he thinks. So without further-ado, not wanting to lose his consciousness after everything, he said it right to your face, “i love you, i really do, i survive this….for us.”

[surielstea]

A Sudden Elopement

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Reader and Azriel suddenly get married without telling any of the others, the silently watch while every one figures it out for themselves.

Warnings: just fluff.

A. Note: just a short fic because I feel bad for being inactive as of late :c but the good news is, is that I’ll be very active for Eris week!! So keep an eye out for more Vanserra content 😻🙏

1.7k words

My eyes drooped with exhaustion as I attempted to keep my focus on the book I was reading. I was seated between my mate's legs in his lap, leaning back against his chest while he combed his scarred fingers through my hair. I sighed and closed my book, deciding I didn't have enough energy to read another chapter. I tossed it to the side of the bed and shifted lazily, flipping around to meet his hazel eyes gazing down at me.

"How was your book?" He hummed and I mumbled something he couldn't decipher while pulling myself up and stuffing my nose into the crook of his neck.

"That good, huh?" He teased, his arms moving to wrap around my waist.

I nod, tightening my grasp on him, needing him closer, lazily clinging to him like moss to a damp wall, infectious and dependent. But he didn't seem to care, only returned my embrace with the same tenderness "We should get married," He said softly and my eyes widened, now fully awake.

"What?"

"We should get married," He repeated with a casual tone.

"As in, right now?" I tilt my head, raising a brow at him.

"Well," He gave me an incredulous look. "Not right now, eventually, I want to marry you," He reiterated. A soft smile pulls at my lips.

"We've only been dating for a few months," I argue and even in the dim lighting I can see him blush.

"Yes, and we've been best friends for a decade," He argues and my smile widens, I straddle over his hips, sitting up and debating it.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd marry you now if I could, but do you really want to go through the hassle of planning one?" I speak logically but it's as if he only heard the first half of my sentence.

"Let's get married, right now," He grinned wildly and I flushed pink. "We don't have to do the hassle, you hate parties anyway. It can be just us, somewhere far or close I don't care. I just want to marry you," He expressed, intertwining our hands as I debated the irrational and sudden decision.

"Though I love how eager you are, I don't have a dress— much less, we don't have rings," I explain. "And as rich as you are, your funds are not bottomless," I say but he remains looking at me with the same loving look.

"Tell me exactly how you want to do it, and that's how it'll be done," He prompts and lets go of my hands, favoring placing them on my waist as I leaned down on my elbow, propped up against his chest.

"Well, it being just us doesn't sound too bad," I say, tracing shapes on his bicep with my free hand. "And I'd want to have a pretty gown, and I'd want to have our ceremony somewhere beautiful." I flick my eyes up to meet his unfaltering gaze. "And rings, I want everyone to know we belong to each other," I add quickly and his smile grows.

"Anything else?" He tilts his head but I shake mine, cupping his face and leaning down, kissing his lips softly. "I think, I just want to be your wife," I finalized and that seemed to have pleased him because the next thing I know he's flipping me over and kissing down my neck. And despite my exhaustion, I knew sleep wouldn't come until dawn.

—————

"So, how was your trip?" Feyre said excitedly, settling into the barstool beside me.

Azriel and I had gotten back after a month's vacation only a day ago, but everyone was eager to catch up. So we landed ourselves at Rita's, a local bar beloved by the citizens of Velaris. "As romantic as it sounds," I say with a soft blush, propping my head into my hands.

"Gods, I wish Rhys would take me on a surprise trip like that," She sighed dramatically and my smile grew. We hadn't told anyone why we actually went, that our trip was more of a honeymoon, less of a vacation.

"I know," I turned back in my stool to look at my husband who was surrounded by his two brothers. "It's all still such a daze," I smile dreamily, looking back to my friend who was frozen in her seat, staring directly at the cut sapphire on my fourth finger.

"Are you engaged?!" She practically shouted and I giggled, shaking my head.

"Az and I decided to get married while we were gone," I shrug as if it was a casual thing. I didn't want it to be a big deal, because it wasn't really, we were the last of the group to tie the knot.

She just stares at me, slowly, she shifts her head back to the three males at the other end of the room, right at that chain around Azriel's neck, a silver ring hanging from it. He couldn’t wear rings because of his scars, but he still wanted to have that physical element of our marriage, as if to display how taken he was.

She nearly fell out of her chair at the realization, then tackled me into a hug, holding me tight as I giggled at her antics. "My gods, congratulations, I would have been sending gifts all week!" Feyre claimed and I shook my head at her nonsense while she pulled away.

"It's not a big deal Fey, if they haven't figured it out yet— you're the only one who knows," I smile broadly, looking back at Azriel, who happened to already be staring at me.

I brought my hand up, gesturing to the ring on my finger, then to his brothers. Silently asking if they notched yet. Azriel shook his head with a mischievous smile and I turned back to Feyre with a smirk. "I can't believe you guys didn't tell us," She huffed as if she'd failed me as a friend.

"As much as I would've loved for you to be there, it was hilarious watching how clueless you all were," I claim and she gives me a sidelong glare.

"Oh cmon," I lean over in my stool and bump her shoulder with mine. "Now you can be in on it. Who do you think is going to be last to figure it out?" I ask, gesturing to the group behind us who were all mingling with Azriel.

Feyre turned to look, the three-winged Illyrians all chatting with Morrigan, Nesta, Lucien, and Elain all accompanying them. "Cassian," She bets and I smirk, narrowing my eyes on the group.

"I think Rhys," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. Feyre cracks a smile. "Whoever's right pays the tab," She says, slipping out of her barstool and I nod, agreeing to the challenge even though I knew damn well Rhys would be covering the tab regardless.

We saunter over to the group, wicked smiles on our faces. Feyre goes to Rhys, intertwining their hands while I come to stand between Cassian and Azriel, my husband putting his arm around my shoulders. "What's that look for?" Azriel asked me, noticing the mischievous glint in my eyes.

"Feyre and I have a bet going, and that's all you need to know," I shrug and he arches a dark brow but doesn't say anything more while silky shadows swirl up my calves as if they were trying to beckon more information out of me but I didn't budge, just leaned into his side and watched Feyre as she tried her hardest to get her mate to realize the wings on me and Azriel's fingers, eager to win our bet.

It took much longer than I thought it would for them to realize. Lucien and Elain had spotted it that night, pulling me to the side to ask about it. Morrigan and Nesta had done the same one night later, interrogating me and Azriel as if we'd committed a crime, they seemed to think not telling them was against some friendship code.

But Rhys and Cassian hadn't noticed that night, or the next, or the next. It wasn't until I was training with Cassian and punched him square in the jaw that he caught sight of the ring on my finger. He brought his fingers to his cheek, wincing as he saw blood when pulling his hand away.

I cringed. "Sorry, I forgot to take my ring off," I murmured shamefully, taking the sapphire off my fourth finger. He paused, staring at me curiously, with no malice in his eyes despite the fact that I just drew blood.

"Where did you get that?" He tilted his head. I froze. Would it be considered cheating me and Feyre’s bet if I told him Az gave it to me?

"I'll give you one guess," I sent him a wink and his brows shot up.

"No way," He whispered. "He proposed?" His arms went out wide and shock. I fought back a laugh. "Well, yes, but we got married already, when we took that month off to go to the Summer Court? That was our honeymoon," I shrug and his eyes nearly bulge from their sockets.

"He didn't tell me!?" Cassian exclaimed as if he was the one to be married.

"We didn't tell anyone, everyone else already figured it out." I chuckled and his eye twitched. "Rhys doesn't know, me and Fey had a bet going to see how long it'd take," I shrug. "Turns out longer than expected." I hummed and he scowled.

"Well, you think you know someone," He huffs pathetically and I laugh.

"It's not like that Cass," I roll my eyes while walking over to my water and placing my wedding ring down beside it. If he was actually upset I don't know what I'd do, and I found myself thanking the gods when he cracked a smile, unable to keep the facade up for too long.

"Me and Az are going to have a long talk about this," He warned and I chuckled, getting back into my fighting stance on the mats.

"All I ask is that you return my husband in one piece," I say, smiling at the sound of calling Azriel my husband.

"Fine, but only if I get to be the one to tell Rhys he lost the bet." He hummed, getting into his own stance.

I grinned wildly, Feyre was going to rage. "Deal."

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[vroomvroomcircuit]

Early Risers vs. Night Owls

(A/N): Special thank yous to @foreveralbon and @disneyprincemuke for helping me choose which drivers are morning people and which are more of night owls.

Summary: Some people are night owls, others are morning people. But there is another sort that some drivers learn to fear: Morning Monsters (it's the reader)

Pairings: (All platonic) daniel ricciardo x driver!reader, charles leclerc x driver!reader, carlos sainz x driver!reader, oscar piastry x driver!reader (max and lando get a guest starring)

Word count: 1.2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

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It’s difficult, being a night person in a day people’s world. It really is. Especially when you are around morning loving human beings.

“Oh, don’t you look happy?” Carlos comments, when (Y/N) steps into the breakfast room. Coincidentally, several teams are accommodated in the same hotel during this race weekend.

As she lets herself fall in a seat at his table, the young female whispers an annoyed “Don’t”. “I wasn’t saying anything mean?” He genuinely questions. Is his English failing him again?

“Please, just stop talking. It’s only the ass crack of dawn, how can someone be so chatty?” (Y/N) puts her head onto the table, effectively stopping any further conversation with the Spaniard. He looks a little bit lost into his fruit bowl, not sure how to handle this situation adequately. 

“Top of the morning, my sunshines,” a smiling Daniel Ricciardo strolls into the room. The happiness radiating from him reaches (Y/N) even through her closed eyes.

Just as Daniel arrives at their table, she gets up with the most sluggish motions a sober person can muster. “Coffee” is the only thing mumbled, answering to the confused looks around her.

Shortly after, she sits down again with a cup in her hands, not even bothering to try to follow the chatting between Daniel and Carlos. (Y/N) just stares into space, wondering where she went wrong in her life to have to sit in between two morning people. Surely, this is a punishment of some kind.

“Ok, what is up with you? You look like you are about to murder everyone in this room if someone just dares to breathe in the wrong direction,” Daniel observes. (Y/N) takes another sip from her coffee. “Because it’s true.”

Carlos can’t wrap his head around it. “But what happened to the sunshine-in-person-(Y/N)?” “How am I supposed to be a sunshine, when I’m barely a person at this moment?” Well, that is not a lie. She does look pretty rough. Not everyone can wake up and look perfect like Florence Pugh. Some people have to look more like Merida herself in the mornings.

“Why are you talking to this woman during the early hours?” Charles, who just entered the breakfast hall, fears for their lives. “Because this is what people do? They talk when they sit together?” Daniel is confused. What is so bad about making conversations?

Charles steps closer to their table and (Y/N) immediately latches onto him, burying her face into his stomach.

“Don’t you value your life? A tired (Y/N) in the morning needs quiet and some hugs.” The young woman mumbles something, making the Monegasque laugh. “Yes, and coffee. This is the recipe to get the sunshine person you know and love.”

Confused, the other two drivers blink. Did they miss the manual that came with the rookie?

“And you know all of this, because?” Carlos asks the question that popped up in both their heads. “Because (Y/N) and Arthur were together in F2 and he had been ‘chewed out by her like a pack of gum by a class of elementary schoolers’, his words, not mine. She is not all bark and no bite, isn’t that right?” (Y/N) nods, her head still buried into his front.

“Do you want to catch a ride to the paddock with me? I plan on leaving in five minutes.” (Y/N) nods again and quickly gathers her things before waving the other drivers goodbye.

The ride is filled with silence, Charles even leaves the radio turned off. This lets the female drive in and out of a state of half-asleep until they arrive at their destination. At the same time a certain papaya wearing aussie his own car not far away from Charles’ Ferrari.

“Oh, is it still too early?” He asks her with a small smile. Just like Arthur, Oscar is aware how much of a night owl (Y/N) is, having witnessed her outbursts first hand several times during his own career in F2.

The driver nods as she throws herself into his embrace. A tired (Y/N) turns into the most cuddly person. “Let’s get you a cup of coffee, can’t have you go around screaming at people. You will scare everyone off.”

Oscar is pretty much the only smiling person she tolerates in the morning. Whenever another human being dares just grinning in her direction during her own waking up phase, she is ready to jump their throats. But Oscar is different. He doesn't do it out of mocking or pitiness. He is genuinely happy and wants to show and share it. Also, he radiates a nice calm aura, which is the complete opposite to what she experiences during the days of a race weekend.

When Carlos passes (Y/N) by later, he walks up to her with caution, keeping his teammates' warning in mind, “Hey Carlos, have you heard the rumors about the newest Taylor Swift album? Do you think it will feature a song about Nando?”

The woman in front of him has nothing in common with the one he interacted with just an hour ago. She somehow even looks completely different from her. It’s the kind of freshness that doesn’t come with a shower.

“Uhm, no I did not. Are you ok? You seemed… a bit out of it this morning.” There is a hesitation in his voice, not wanting to accidentally offset her.

But (Y/N) just laughs it off. “Oh yeah, that. I’m sorry for being a grump back there. Just like Charlie said, I’m absolutely not a morning person. During the first hour of being awake I’m an absolute monster. Just, don’t talk to me or only when it’s absolutely necessary during that time. I apologize for my behavior, it wasn’t nice. Today was particularly bad, because I do my best work at night and I have been pouring over some data until 2 am. I’ll try to give you a warning next time!”

With that she is off, looking for her partner in crime aka her teammate to start some kind of mischief with the social media team.

Carlos is just flabbergasted. The duality of some people and how a small cup of caffeine can bring that out of them is astonishing.

Just remember to never fuck with night owls during the early hours of the morning.

Bonus Scene

During a free week some drivers set a date to play a private paddle tournament together in Monaco. Daniel enters the court with a big smile. After all, it is a fresh, sunny morning. This day is a promise of having a good time with his friends and colleagues, playing their favorite game and having lunch plans together.

What sets the Australian off are the three frowning faces, sitting on a bench nursing each a can of Red Bull solemnly. “What happened to you?”

Max answers his question first with a grumpy voice. “I had to leave my cats cuddled up in my bed alone.” “My alarm woke me up while the first number on the clock was still a single digit.” Landoo sounds about as tired as (Y/N) next to him looks like.

“Life”, Daniel answers for the young woman already, who just nods and pulls the strings of her hood closed, hindering someone else to make more conversations with her until the caffeine has kicked in.

Desperate times call for desperate measures after all.