#putting all this out there in case someone sees it and decides to not join or change their stance or whatever

[thestarscollective]

Cw for military and government stuff, raising voice and yelling. ⛓️

Im so tired of the same people hurting me and mine again and again. I dont care about your opinions on war. The country made a promise and we deserve care

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

[whoistartaglia]

trust falls with genshin mem

neuvillette would catch you and it would be something out of a romance novel. one hand supporting your back, the other your legs. the perfect bridal-style hold. when he realized you’re just playing a prank on him, he’ll gently and gracefully return you to your feet, and sneak a chaste kiss on your cheek as he does so.

wriothesley would try to be a bridal-style hold but start it too late. this leads to him to awkwardly clutch your legs and arm. he might try to adjust his hold and make it slightly better, but if he can’t, he’ll make you do it again, despite your protests it won’t be a surprise anymore. if he does convince you to give him a redo, he’ll have a mostly perfect hold, even as you playfully roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

zhongli would catch you before you even knew you were committing to the fall. a firm touch on your back stops the trust fall before you can even yell it out. what can he say, he knows you better than you do yourself sometimes. if you try to do it again later, zhongli will also best your attempt. and if you try once more, he’ll keep that hand lingering on your back. just in case.

xiao would be very confused and almost let you fall, until his instincts kick in and his body autopilots to catch you. his hold will be firm and uncomfortable as he rights you back to your feet. he gives you a look like what are you doing? he might also ask if you’ll ill, and if you admit it’s a prank he’ll laugh, once, and then ask you to never do that again. you and your mortal antics scare him sometimes, y’know?

childe is familiar with this prank from his siblings, and he’ll play one back, by not catching you until the absolute last second. you think you’re about the hit the cold hard ground, until childe’s hand slips under your back millimeters from the impact zone. everything after that is a whirl as childe bypasses getting you back on your feet, but instead hefts you over his shoulder, maybe twirling you around. what were you thinking, pranking someone with younger and older siblings?

kaeya would warn you that he’s not going to give into you’re little prank before you start the fall. he knows what you’re up to as you survey your surroundings and decide on a place to land incase he’s not quick enough. you ain’t that sly. if you should decide to go ahead with the prank anyways, you’ll see kaeya was just bluffing, even as he grumbles with you now in his arms. give him a peck on the lips, he deserves it.

diluc would literally stop everything to catch you. pouring a drink? it’s on the floor. reading a book? not anymore! his catch might not be terribly graceful, but it’s efficient and gets the job done. you don’t touch the floor and you’re not very disoriented by the end of it. he might ask you not to do that again, before huffing out a small laugh at your prank. a dusting of rose can be seen on his cheeks at the romantic position you put him it.

alhaitham will catch you without looking. yeah, he’s just kind of cool like that. you’ll do your trust fall and alhaitham’s arm will reach out, cushioning your fall and either guiding you to the floor or righting you immediately. he’ll only look at you when it’s over, raising an eyebrow in a judgemental stare, before returning to whatever he was doing beforehand. what can he say, he’s a busy scribe/acting grand sage/boyfriend.

kaveh would fall with you. whether he was also planning a trust fall or just decided to join in, you can’t decide. all you know it that you were falling, he was falling, and seconds later, you had landed, and so had kaveh. except you landed on a confused, slightly miffed, and a little hurt, kaveh. you both laid there in bewildered silence, both trying to understand what just happened. kaveh technically did break your fall, even if it was in rather unfortunate circumstances.

[luveline]

hii 🤍 i miss spencer, amanda and reader 🥺 when will reader and spencer finally kiss?? hahahah

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.2k

Amanda’s dad has a girlfriend with a kind mouth that curls in smiles, like seeing her is the one thing you’ve waited for all day. You have slow hands: your fingers ease through Amy’s hair one strand at a time, warm, but somehow shivers race down her spine whenever you touch her. You’re like her dad, in that you kiss her cheek before bed or hug her with one arm. You’re a gentle touch whenever Amy wants it. You and Spencer are both enthusiastically tactile. 

What Amy doesn’t understand is why you and her dad never seem to kiss. Amy isn’t sure if she wants to see it. She hasn’t thought of it in depth, just knows that you and Spencer are both grown ups who love one another —Spencer looks to you in every room, his eyes squinting against the sight of you like you’re some star, a sun, bright and blistering and too beautiful to look away. It’s like a movie. Plus, Amy wants a stepmom. Paula from school has one and she says it’s awesome. 

“Dad?” 

“Yeah?” Spencer’s voice echoes, head deep inside a cabinet looking for a can of evaporated milk. “We don’t buy enough canned stuff. We’d be screwed in the apocalypse.” 

“I like fresh.” 

“Of course you do. You’re brilliant.” 

“Brilliant,” you echo, legs swinging against the cabinet behind your legs. You hold the door to prevent Spencer’s likely head injury. 

“Dad?” Amy asks again. 

He pulls his head from the empty cabinet to appease her. “I know, I’m looking for the hot cocoa powder.” 

“That’s not what I want to ask.” 

“Oh. Well, what do you want from me, angel?” 

You choose that moment to hop down off of the counter top, phone in hand. “I’ll be right back,” you promise, leaving with no further explanation. 

It’s good timing. Amy crowds her dad to look up at him, a reflection of her brown eyes peering down at her curiously. He cups the back of her head. “What, Amy?” he asks. 

He says her name nicely, too. Amy is bathed in love, all the time, but it never gets any less warming. She wraps her arms around his thighs and rubs her nose against his stomach, cuddling into him. 

He’s patient, but not unaware. “What do you want, beautiful?” he murmurs, fingers scratching gently up his scalp and through her hair, soft ends of it fluttering down onto her shoulders. He repeats the motion. “I’m listening.” 

“Why don’t you and Y/N ever kiss?” 

He laughs softly. “Why are you asking me a question like that?” 

“You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but you don’t kiss or anything. Do you?” 

Spencer holds her face, more fingers in her hair than anything on account of her small head. “No, we don’t kiss,” he says, like it’s a secret, but a good one. Amy’s confused squinting makes him laugh again. “Um… just, it’s not easy to explain, but we’re taking things slowly. That means that we like one another, but we’re not rushing to do things we aren’t ready for.” 

“You’re not ready to kiss her?” Amy asks. 

“Maybe not.” Spencer doesn’t share that you aren’t completely ready either, far as he’s aware. This is a big thing for both of you, months of deep pining, a fragility. “It’s not because I don’t want to.” 

“She’s really pretty. I think you should hurry, just in case someone else likes her.” 

Spencer hugs her to his tummy and gives her a squeeze. “She’s beautiful like someone else I know. And I will kiss her, I’m waiting for the right time.” 

Amy forgets about what she’d been asking after that, charmed and then ferried to her room to get dressed. We’ll have to go out for cocoa, Spencer had said, bundling her in a big coat. You were all to happy to put your shoes on and join them, Spencer’s borrowed scarf shielding your neck and jaw, your nose quickly sniffly against the cold. 

Amy takes your hand on the way into the cafe and savours the warmth of it. She will need to concoct the right time, she decides, for her dad to kiss you, if only so she can be a flower girl at your wedding. If you get married (if your wedding ceremony even has flower girls). She’s just thinking maybe she’ll be the maid of honour when you push out a chair for her. She settles in, wondering if you’d like flowers, what sort of clothes you’d wear, if you’d come live with them in the apartment, sipping at a procured, thick hot chocolate while you and Spencer chat. 

“Half?” he asks, knife poised over a pastry. 

“I already ate all mine.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” He cuts the pastry in half and offers it to you, a red and golden brown mini pie, fruit glistening in its jelly, flaky salt on the top that tumbles off the edges as he passes it to you. “Here.” 

You take a big bite. You smile so much you can hardly chew. 

Spencer stares at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing.”

You have fruit on your lip. Your genuine puzzlement is all the more enticing: how is Spencer supposed to look away? He hooks his ankle around a leg from your chair and draws closer. 

“You know, I heard you earlier.” 

“When?” he asks. 

“Before we left. You were telling Amy that you think I’m pretty.”

“No, Amy said pretty, I said beautiful. I should’ve said perfect.” 

“That so?” you tease.

Spencer has to wonder what’s beneath it. Kiss me, kiss me. Lean over and do it, Reid. Or if he hears what he wants from your lilting mouth. “I’m sure there’s a hundred words I should’ve said.”

“You don’t have to say anything else,” you say decidedly, your hands falling to his knee, “that’s enough flattery for today.” 

“Is it?” 

“You sound entirely genuine,” you say, voice turning soft now, a padded thing to think about later. 

“I am,” he says. Simply, and hopelessly, leaning in to breathe the same air. 

“Is now the right time?” you whisper. 

“You heard that?” he asks back. 

“I’m ready whenever you’re ready.” 

Spencer chances a glance at Amy where she’s ripping at the paper sleeve on her hot chocolate before he holds your arm to kiss you. A chaste, brushing touch, pressure of a butterfly’s wing at first and then marginally firmer. He kisses you, and he pulls away just as your bringing your hand to his cheek. 

“Was that okay?” he asks. 

“Very princely.” 

“So you're getting married, right?” Amy butts in, her smile a thousand watts. “Yes? Can I choose the flowers? Can we go on a honeymoon?” 

Spencer flushes at the idea of Amy seeing him, but then he feels sick thinking about such a short first kiss, covering the side of your face with his hand to occlude his lips as he moves in and gives you another. 

“Dad, one was enough.” Amy’s concern is grouching, and it makes you laugh against his mouth. 

You both pull away. “Sorry, Amy,” Spencer says, “but you did tell me to hurry up.” 

“Yikes. Can I have some pie?” 

Spencer hands her his uneaten half. You search for his hand under the table. 

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓

The Prequel to the "It's a Match!" series.

[ The Teaser! ] || [ Chapter 1 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 600~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

You’ve always found the concept of rebounds hilariously dumb. Every time that trope came up on a romcom or sitcom you were watching, you found yourself rolling your eyes at it.

Then again, everything about how Hollywood portrays break-ups is ridiculous. Sobbing on the couch while eating a pint of ice cream? Putting on your ‘revenge dress’ and showing your ex what they’re missing? All BS… but you guess both of those have a time and a place… But rebounds? 

How can someone think the remedy to a broken heart or a bad break-up is… getting involved with someone else? How can that be healthy at all? You’re at your lowest and most vulnerable and you decide to let someone else in to do more damage? Ridiculous.

That’s why you scoffed and rolled your eyes when your friend Leah suggested it during film night at your flat. “C’mon, you need to get laid!” She said as she bit down on her slice of pizza.

“Oh, please-” You grumbled, slinking down on the couch. “I’m alright by myself, thanks.”

“Pfft, c’mon!” Mia, your other friend, quipped while sitting on a pillow on the floor. “You seriously need to get out of the house and find someone else!”

"No, serious, you do." Leah agreed and nodded. "What happened with that tosser Ethan should not have you isolating youself like this."

“No, thank you. I’m quite alright by myself. Don’t need that extra stress.” You retorted as you reached for another slice of pizza from the coffee table.

“What extra stress?” Leah asked. “There's nothing stressful about it! It’s sex.” She said simply, Mia quickly nodding in agreement.

“The extra stress of going out and talking to people and getting to know them…” You list it off while halfway through chewing your bite of food.

“Oh, sod off! We’re not talking about a date!” Mia quickly said as she pushed your knee lightly with her bottle of Coke.

“Yeah, it’s a shag. You don’t have to meet or talk to a bloke! You just create an account on Tinder or Bumble or something.” Leah added.

You shoot them a look of disbelief. “Oh, I’m not doing that! Are you mental? Those apps are a cesspool! There’s nothing but creeps and losers on there…” You complained.

“See, that’s the mentality of someone who wants a boyfriend out of those apps!” Mia scolded you and nudged your knee again. “If you use it with that intention of course you’ll think every bloke there is a creep. But you’re not going to use it to look for a date! You��ll use it for the same as them: a shag.” She added.

“C’mon! Hand over your phone, let’s create a profile for you!” Leah insisted and stole your phone from your hoodie’s pocket before you even had time to argue, unlocking it and getting to work downloading Tinder.

“I don’t know…” You said, uncertain, as you nibbled on your pizza slice again. “I feel like I’ll get picky and reject all of them once their profile pops on my screen.” You add.

“Then don’t.” Mia said with a shrug while she pushed up onto her knees to peek at your phone screen in Leah’s hand.

“Yeah! Just Swipe Right on all of them! You’re bound to find one that’s worth it that way.” Leah added as she began creating an account for you.

“I don’t know-” You tried saying again, not just uncertain but downright disliking the idea.

“We promise it’ll be fun!” Mia interrupted you. “Just do what we tell you! Swipe right on everyone!” Mia added. “What’s the worst that’s going to happen?”

“Worst-case scenario, you don’t like any of them enough to meet for a shag. So what? Will make no difference on your life as it currently is.” Leah added and leaned herself lightly against you, nudging you with her shoulder.

Thinking for a moment, you end up sighing and smiling. “Fine!” You said, amused. “I guess if nothing else, it’ll give me a confidence boost to have ‘em all dming me.” You joked.

“That’s the spirit!” Mia cheered and wrapped her arms around you. “Now, let’s find some pictures of you looking fit to add to your profile.” She said, causing you all to giggle.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[theminecraftbee]

why hbomb94 should be the next new hermit: no listen this isn't just me being ridiculous listen listen--

okay but like. after today i am ON THIS TRAIN. i am FULLY CONVINCED that hbomb94 would be one of the BEST POSSIBLE CANDIDATES for "new hermit for hermitcraft". and please, just listen to my case for this:

so, after today, i'm fully convinced hbomb is a perfect vibes match for many hermits. he gets along well! he's actually pretty good at staying at hermitcraft levels of pg in videos (like, not swearing--he makes like, the catmaid jokes, but that's nothing worse than whatever ren gets up to on a given day). he's also relatively chill, already friends with a lot of the hermits, and connects well with them on a content creation level. like, he's excited for them, he slots into the bits well, the bits he brings to the table are picked up easily by the other hermits.

and the thing is... okay i KNOW hbomb isn't a huge base builder. i watched vault hunters smp too. but the thing is... he doesn't have to be! you see, there's a certain hermit niche they haven't invited a new hermit into in a while, and that's the niche that someone like joe hills or zedaph (or i'd argue etho or cubfan) occupies. it's the 'weird' niche. i don't think hbomb would be a builder hermit. i don't think he'd be a redstoner either. what he'd be good at is things like... hermits helping hermits! building minigames! have you seen hbomb actually, half of what he did on dsmp or on his main youtube is building minigames and escape rooms. he'd have good vibes! he'd show up to all the events! he'd probably RUN some events!

what he'd be is a new chill, friendly niche hermit, and i think we need more of those? more of the hermits who WON'T be building megabases, but WILL be building games, helping collect resources, and inventing new strange things to do. yes, sure, once again: i know hbomb isn't a builder, and next to someone like joel, that probably puts him out of contention, but... the last two hermits they invited were builders. they need a hype guy. an event guy. another team player. the escape rooms would be ENRICHMENT. it would be wonderful.

plus, i don't think he'd ever stop being a delightful audience insert about the other hermit projects. plus plus, i think he and scar and cub would definitely do a catmaid bit we'd all regret. plus plus plus i think he could do his rant about how weird beetroot is and the hermits would appreciate him for it.

as such i actually think hbomb slots in BEST of the visitors from today as a new hermit. (this is also in part because the empires crew tends to prefer much shorter seasons on their servers than hermitcraft has if they don't want to get bored and the hermits have pretty definitively decided they don't like short seasons. it's also a vibe check. skizz for hermitcraft fans, i am shaking your hand and saluting you, my guy who can't build and your guy who can't build should be hermits who join for similar reasons, we are friends.)

anyway will this actually happen? probably not. but like. listen. for the first time since hbomb hermit adoption arc started this feels VIABLE and i feel the need to make my case for why i want him on because the moment the season rolls over and we start speculating about new hermits this is the guy who has my vote please do you understand now please he'd be so fun--

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Welcome to the Sonic Fankid Showdown!!!

Where we make babies beat each other up with sticks!!!

This is the tournament we fanchild enjoyers have been waiting for! Sonic fankids put against each other to see who can beat the rest and get the victory!! All for FUN!!! Meaning that the only ones that will be fighting are the fictional characters that participate in the tournament (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Hosted by yours truly, @head---ache

RULES:

One character per person. This means that if you have twins, sadly you'll have to separate them 😔 The ONLY exception allowed to this rule is if your character has any pet, chao, wisp, etc. If that's the case then you can submit them as one.

Fankids derived from PRO-SHIPS are NOT be allowed to participate (this includes incest, inappropiate age gaps, etc). I'll be deciding what's appropiate or not (with the help of some people I trust), so what's already decided will NOT be discussed any longer.

Ship discourse is NOT allowed.

The last rule also means that the ONLY propaganda allowed is about the CHARACTER, and not the pairing they're inspired by. I do NOT want to see ANYONE fighting about ships.

Oc x Canon kids are allowed!! Go crazy with it people!!!

Any hate towards the characters and/or creators will NOT be allowed. If I see ANYONE sending hate I will block them! And if it's someone participating then their character will be disqualified. I want this to be a safe space, so be nice, everyone!!

I will be accepting submissions until May 18th.

The limit of submissions is 60, however the number of participants will depend on the number of submissions I actually get (it HAS to be an even number, so I'm sorry if anyone gets left out for that reason).

TO ENTER:

Name of the character.

Ship they come from (if oc x canon then put '[canon character] x oc').

Short introduction to your kid.

Photo (transparent PNG is prefered).

Creator's URL (for proper crediting).

Now that you've read everything above and you think your kid has what's needed to win (or you just want to join for the funsies, that's also valid) here's the form you need to fill to participate!!! (We already reached the limit!!)

Good luck and have fun everyone!!!

[zegrasdrysdale]

Can you write about Nico dating a really famous actress, she is in House of the Dragon and in Dune, and now she is doing the press tour for the movie so she hasn't seen Nico in a while so to surprise him she goes to the stadium series and is at the family skate with him holding hands and being cute the whole time, so Nico is asked about their relationship the press conference after the game and he answered the question being a proud boyfriend, please? I love your writing

[ press pause ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : after being away for a few months filming and doing press for her projects, (Y/N) surprises boyfriend Nico at family skate before the Stadium Series

warning(s) : one suggestive comment but other than that, cute and fluffy

author’s note : this request has been sitting in my drafts bc i wasn’t very proud of it but i decided to let it see the light of day bc i miss the stadium series. pls lmk what y’all think (the entire press conference is completely made up for the sake of the fic btw)

༺═──────────────═༻

She needed a vacation by the time her tour ended in New York City. It’s exhausting doing a multi-month press tour for a show that wasn’t coming out until the summer. She knows she’ll have to go on another one anyway while the season is airing on HBO.

The idea didn’t enter her mind until she saw a billboard on the highway going into New York. It advertises the two NHL Stadium Series games that are happening in a few days.

When the games were announced a few months ago, she was already booked on the press tour for season two of House of the Dragon. Nico wanted her to come to the game against the Flyers but she wasn’t sure if she’d be in the area to go.

Turns out, she is. Since she’s in the area, she decides to surprise her captain boyfriend at family skate.

Cat Toffoli worked closely with a designer to make some jackets for the wives and girlfriends of the players for the Stadium Series. She even made sure to make one with a “13” on it, just in case.

She’s happy that she gets to put the jacket to use since she’s surprising Nico at family skate. Pressing pause on her press tour to support her boyfriend in what’s one of the most important games of his life was the best idea she’s had in a while. It’s been a long time since she has laced up the skates Nico bought her when they first got together during the 2021-2022 season. Tonight seems a good time.

An Uber takes her from her shared apartment with Nico in Hoboken to MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford once she's in something that she can comfortably skate in, which ends up being leggings, a red shirt, and her jacket that Cat had made for her. She grabs one of Nico's beanies out of the endless pile in his closet just in case her head gets cold.

She gets more excited the closer she gets to the football field turned hockey rink. She shakes with excitement when the Uber pulls into the player parking lot.

Cars are parked all over the place. She recognizes most of the cars that are parked. The Devils get the ice tonight for practice and family skate.

With her jacket wrapped tight around her and a duffel bag holding her skates, she heads in the back entrance. She shows her ID to the security guard, who gives her special credentials so everyone knows she’s allowed there and is allowed onto the ice.

She’s already late so she could pull off this surprise. All of the players and their families are out on the ice. With quick feet, she makes her way onto the field. Her duffel bag slung over her shoulder as she rushes to the rink.

As soon as she reaches the bench, someone tells, “Nice of you to join us!” She sits down so she can change into her skates. Jack skates by with a smile on his face. “He’s been hoping that you’d show up.”

Her eyes scan the ice to find her boyfriend. She finally is able to spot him as he skates over to her. Jack skates off and Nico takes his spot.

When her laces are tied, she stands up and Nico helps her over the boards. “You’re here?” he asks as she gains her balance on her skates. “I thought you were traveling today.”

“Decided to press pause so I could be here for you,” she tells him. “Wanted to support my boyfriend after all the supporting you’ve done for me.” Nico flashes his dimpled smile at her.

She takes in his appearance. He’s in full gear with his red practice jersey since they did practice before the families came onto the ice. He has on his Devils beanie with the pompom on top of his head. The eye black he has on his cheeks looks good.

Nico takes her hand and loosely laces their fingers. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “It wouldn’t have been the same if you weren’t here.”

“Your dad and sister came though,” she replies as Nico begins to skate backwards. He pulls her along and she manages to keep her balance by holding his hands. “I’m sure it would’ve been okay if I wasn’t able to come.”

He pulls her closer to him so her chest is pressed against his gear on his chest. Nico’s hands rest on her waist to make sure she doesn’t fall. “You’re the most important person in my life, schatzi,” he tells her. “It wouldn’t have been the same. I promise”

She smiles up at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, he notices all the cameras on the two of them. She’s not even surprised. She’s one of the world’s most known actresses and he’s the captain of the Devils. Reporters are probably getting all the pictures they can get.

Nico doesn't let go of her hand. He makes sure their fingers are locked the entire time she's on the ice.

It's easy to forget the world around her when she skates with Nico. She's so focused on Nico and Nico is so focused on her that it feels like they're the only two people in the world despite multiple pairs of eyes being on them and a bunch of cameras trained on them.

There's only a few minutes left of family skate when Nico decides that it would be a good idea to spin his girlfriend. When she's on the toe pick of her skates, because Nico thought it would be smart to get her figure skating skates, he grabs her hand and spins her around.

"Nico!" she gasps as she spins right into his arms. He wraps his arms around her waist "You can't just do that without warning me. What if I fell?"

He laughs against her ear. "You know I'll always have you," he tells her. "You would think that you'd be able to skate on your own by now."

She shakes her head as Nico kisses the swell of her ear. The smile that forms on her lips is involuntary since she's trying to be mad at Nico. "I don't think you understand that I skate maybe three times a year," she sighs. "My job doesn't involve skating like yours does."

Nico smiles and she looks up at him. "Have I ever told you how good you look on skates?" he asks. "Because this look does it for me. Hope you know that."

With a gentle shove from her, Nico backs away but always makes sure to keep a hand on her so she doesn't fall.

"You are so lucky that I love you," she says to Nico as she carefully turns to face him.

He hums and playfully rolls his eyes before he slides his hands up to cup her cheeks. His fingers are freezing, but she quickly pushes that thought out of her head when Nico pulls her in for a soft kiss. She can't help but smile as she returns the kiss.

It's very rare for Nico to show this type of affection in public let alone at a Devils event. They're both very shy about their relationship when it comes to the public eye, but sometimes a moment overwhelms them and they can't help it.

Like this moment. Center ice on the Stadium Series rink.

She wraps her arms around his waist for a little extra security. The last thing she wants to do right now is fall on her butt. She can hear all the snaps of the cameras the longer their lips are connected.

Nico breaks the kiss and smiles at her. She reaches up and pokes his dimple, which gets a laugh out of Nico.

"Alright, Dimple Lover," he says with a smile. "Let's go. I feel gross and sweaty. I need to shower."

"As long as I can join you if you decide to shower at home."

"We're going home right now."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

From the moment Nico scored on Sam Ersson thirty seconds into the game, she's been on her feet. It set the pace for the rest of the game. The Devils scored two goals every period, and Nico himself scored two goals on the night.

East Rutherford is on fire in the stands. They're cheering. It gets even louder when Nico is being interviewed by Emily Kaplan on a live mic and he says, "Thanks for showing up. It was fucking amazing- sorry."

He has the cutest smile on his face and waves at the crowd around him. The smile she already had on her face grows impossibly bigger.

When Nico heads down the tunnel to get out of his gear, she heads down to stand outside the media room so she can catch Nico before he goes in and does his post-game comments.

She's liking pictures of her and Nico from yesterday on Instagram. She replies to some of her mentions on Twitter. She even posts one of the pictures of her and Nico from yesterday when they were on the ice at family skate. Almost immediately, it begins blowing up on every single social media platform like her posts usually do when she posts Nico.

Minutes after she posts the picture, Nico comes walking down the stairs that lead to the hallway. He's back in Sopranos outfit, sans the jacket. The white tank hugs his body and shows off his arms. The cut he has under his eye completes the look.

Nico spots her before he turns into the media room. He says that he'll be in the room in a second. Then he walks over to his girlfriend.

"Hi, handsome," she says with a smile on her face. "Nice goals. Oh, I like this outfit too."

He leans down and steals a kiss. "Those goals were for you, schatzi," he whispers to her as he tucks her hair behind her ear. "I had to show off for my girl."

She smiles up at him and he mirrors it.

"Nico, we need you in here," someone says. "Nate's ready to go."

Nico nods and looks into the room. "Want to come watch?" he asks. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

With a nod, the two of them head into the room.

The reporters buzz as Nico walks up to the table to sit with Nate and she makes her way to an empty seat among the reporters. The woman she sits next to has a moment of panic and realization of who she is as the press conference gets underway.

One of the reporters in the front row asks, "Nate, was that celly after your goal planned?"

Nate laughs and nods. "Yeah, actually," he replies. The reporters in the crowd laugh. "Chris and I sat down and planned out a couple of different cellys just in case either of us scored. I happened to be the one to score, twice."

"Speaking of two goals, Nico," another reporter begins to say. "How do you feel after those goals you scored? Effing amazing?"

Nico smiles. "Yeah, it felt good, without the addition of another word that shouldn't have been said on live television," he replies with a very light laugh. "No, it feels good to score two goals coming off the All Star break. Took some time off, skated and worked on what I needed to, and, uh, I'm ready to have a good second half of the season."

They make eye contact and she smiles at him. One of the reporters notices that Nico's smile has gotten softer. "So, your goals have nothing to do with the fact that your girlfriend was here all weekend?" a third reporter asks.

"The fact that she was able to take time out of her incredibly busy schedule to be here means a lot to me, yeah," Nico says. "Being able to score a couple goals was me telling her that I was happy she was here."

"So it doesn't bother you that her presence this weekend has made multiple headlines and occasionally overshadowed the game?"

Nico scans the crowd and finds the reporter that asked the question. "I have never once thought that her being here this weekend overshadowed the game," he replies. "I am more than happy to have her here. If she makes a view headlines then oh well. She's one of the world's most well known and talented actresses, and I am proud to be her boyfriend. If that means that some of the attention is off of me then okay."

She smiles and bites her bottom lip as she watches Nico while he and Nate finish up the press conference with questions about the game.

One of the things she's always been worried about was completely overshadowing Nico and his career with hers. Now that she knows that he's proud of her accomplishments.

As soon as Nico is done, he makes a beeline right for her. She opens her mouth to say something but Nico quickly cuts her off with his lips. She giggles into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck.

Cameras click around them but she doesn't care. Neither does Nico if he meant what he said.

"Nico," she laughs as she breaks the kiss. "This is your day. Enough about me. Stop making me a headline by kissing me in front of the cameras."

He smiles. "I don't care," he tells her. "I'll kiss you in front of a million cameras."

She shakes her head and pushes his hair out of his face. "You are insane," she tells him.

"You love it."

"I do."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable @ivy-34 @bunbunbl0gs

[hs-is-loml]

Defending. (x.t)

PART ONE OF TWO

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: wednesday tells you about her suspicions about xavier but you come to his defense and are determined to find proof to prove her wrong

Warnings: mentions of making a small cut, very little like a drop of blood, hydes? (those ugly mfs) NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: this is going to be in two parts, but part two will be posted late 12/1 or early 12/2 depending on when i finish writing it! it's basically a smut fic for part two which is why i decided to split it up in case people are not comfortable with it!

masterlist - part two

“Now, this is too far,” you said to Wednesday as she told you about her suspicions about Xavier being the monster.

“All the evidence points to him.”

 “Wednesday, it’s not him.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re in a relationship with him,” the girl argued back with her.

“No shit, Wednesday. I know him enough to know he’s not. You think I wouldn’t notice by now if he were going around town killing people?”

“You’re letting this blind your judgment,” Wednesday stated. 

“NEWS FLASH WEDNESDAY HE’S NOT THE HYDE! WOULD IT KILL YOU THINK FOR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF?!” you yelled at the girl who just raised her eyebrows back at you.

“What are you going to do when you find out he is?”

“Nothing,” you answered softly you could feel a headache coming from yelling, “There’s nothing to find out.” You walked back inside from the balcony and exited the room before you felt like destroying anything, and Enid would get mad at the mess later.

You wandered around the school before you came upon the statute of Edgar Allen Poe. You sat down near the statute wanting to clear your mind for a second before you looked up and realized the mark beneath the book he was holding. You tried to recall what your mom would always tell you as a kid about the Nightshade Society. 

“He was notorious for his riddles. For it was not one alone, but each line was individual. One to remember is, ‘The answer will give a sharp cracking sound,’ that will help you once you find it,” was something she always mentioned when she talked about Nevermore. 

“A sharp cracking sound,” you repeated as you stood from your spot and it clicked, or more so snapped into place. You raised your right arm and snapped two times. “Thank you, Nightshade Society.”

You walked down the staircase into the dimly lit library. The portraits that hung on the wall of old members caught your eye as you looked about the room. At the end of the portraits you find your parents, they tell you to make a name for yourself, but how could you live up to them? 

“You put that bag over my head, I will choke you with that very rope in your hands,” you warned the people who stood behind you as you looked for your mom’s diary knowing that would be the only thing you could find answers in. “You should know to not mess with a witch with heightened senses.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, we were just trying to have fun,” Kent joked causing the other to mutter in agreement. 

“I WASN’T GOING TO DO ANYTHING I SWEAR,” Xavier yelped once he notice it was you and threw the bag in his hands to Ajax.

“Someone’s in the dog house tonight…” Yoko teased. Kent and a couple of the others gave a couple howls joining in the joke.

“You know Xavier you could’ve told me about this,” you said as you finally found your mother’s diary. 

“Babe, if I could, I would’ve-”

“He’s sworn to secrecy,” Bianca pointed out as she gave you a dirty look when you walked to a desk with the diary in your arms.

You pulled it out to see she sealed it with magic though not any kind of magic, blood magic. “My family was a part of the Nightshades long before you, although I thought it to be disbanded.”

“Yeah, the group kind of lost its charter 30 years ago after some normie kid died,” Xavier explained which answered your thoughts as he walked up to you noticing that you were looking for something. 

“But we have a lot of wealthy alumni, so Weems looks the other way as long as nobody makes any waves,” Yoko added on. 

“What are you looking for anyways?” Xavier questioned you.

“If you’re trying to open your mom’s diary, you can’t,” Bianca told you cockingly. 

“Maybe you can’t,” you retorted just when you noticed a letter opener sitting at the corner of the table. 

You reached over and grabbed it seeing that it had a sharp edge. You noticed from your peripheral vision that the group was crowding around you to see what you were doing. Xavier was right next to you with his attention on the knife you held in your hand. You lifted your right hand over the book and took the knife to your palm just before it touched your skin you heard shouts from around the room.

“Y/N!”

“Woah, girl, no need to prove a point.”

“No need for bloodshed-”

“What are you doing?!”

“No, no, no, no, absolutely not,” you heard Xavier say as he tried to grab for the knife, but it was too late. “Oh my god, only you. Literally, you’re the only one who would do this.”

You sliced the inside of your palm and allowed for the knife to drop down onto the table as you felt the sting in your palm. You closed your fist and put it directly above the lock on the book. You felt the blood sweep down near the bottom of your fist before it dropped down into the lock. 

“Blood magic?” Yoko asked in amazement when she saw the lock unlatch and you opened to the front page that held your mom’s portrait along with her signature. 

“Only the very best for mother dearest,” you remark sarcastically.

“That explains a lot!” Kent said from behind as Xavier looked around for a first aid kit. “Bianca was trying to open that months ago and nothing would work!” right as the words left his mouth, Bianca smacked him in the back of the head causing him to groan in pain, “Well, ow.”

When Xavier finally found a first aid kit that looked like it could be decades old, he went back to your side and held out his palm to you. Putting your sliced palm in his hand without him even having to ask you. 

“I couldn’t find any actual alcohol to disinfect it, so vodka will have to do,” he unscrewed the bottle with one hand and looked back into your eyes before you gave him a slight nod telling him it was okay for him to do it. “This might sting.”

“Oh shit, I can’t watch,” Ajax gagged as the vodka was poured onto your palm and the blood washed away with it. 

“Makes the both of us,” another member said.

“Stop being babies, people would think you’re the one with the cut palm,” you told them off as taking in the pain with no reaction. “At least I have a hot doctor patching me up,” you smirked.

“Only for you,” Xavier muttered as he focused on wrapping the bandage around your hand. At this point, almost all the members already left not wanting to see what you and Xavier get up to.

“Thanks, babe,” giving him a kiss on the cheek before returning your attention back to your mother’s diary. 

“What was so important that you have to look into your mom’s diary?” he asked you. “You’re looking for answers, but for what?”

“Any information about hydes.”

“That’s the monster, Wednesday was talking about right?”

“The same one she believes you to be, yes.” you look up from the diary to see his confused expression.

“Wait, me?” he wondered aloud.

“I told her it wasn’t you though, but that girl is the most stubborn person I have ever met,” you informed him taking one of his hands in your non-injured one to give it a tight squeeze in reassurance. “You have to be careful, I know you’re not the Hyde, but she is going to do everything she can to prove her point.”

“I love you.” he blurted out to you. “You could’ve easily believed her, but you didn’t.”

“I know you, Xavier. There’s no damn way in hell, I’m going to let you be falsely accused for something you so obviously are not,” you stated. “And, I love you, that’s why I’m trying to see if my mother knew anything about Hydes during her time here,” you smiled at him.

You turned to put the diary back onto the desk as you hurriedly flipped through the pages scanning for any kind of information on the damn monster. You were about to turn to another page just before you noticed a name you’ve heard of before. Francois Sylvanne. Xavier moved to stand behind you leaning over your shoulder to read the diary as well. He placed his hands on your hips to steady himself causing you to lean back into him.

“Seems like Wednesday’s little boy toy just got way more interesting,” you pointed to the name on the page for Xavier to read. 

“Who is she?”

“His mother. The same one he goes to therapy for, I heard she died a while back, and apparently the sheriff isn’t only bad at his job but bad at parenting too,” you explained as you read more of your mom’s writing.

There’s something about this girl. She keeps to herself. Quiet. Distance. Truly an Outcast. I have a feeling something is going on with her or at least something will. I’m going to keep a close eye on her, but she is graduating this year.

“Weird, your mom always has good intuition, I wonder if she’s right about this one too,” Xavier said after he read your mother’s entry. 

You flipped through more pages of the book and found nothing. You looked at every line on the pages, and your mother never mentioned her once again. It wasn’t until you got to the last page of the diary to see a quite messier version of your mother’s writing.

THAT GIRL IS A HYDE. FRANCOIS IS A HYDE. HIDDEN AWAY WITH A NORMIE IN THE TOWN. 

“No,” you gaped as you turned to see nothing more and reached the end of the book.

“Do you think Tyler’s the Hyde?” he whispered into your ear.

“It’s the only way. It makes sense too,” you claimed, “But the question is why?” 

[reidsbabyhoney]

opposite | s.r.

the one where spencer has a new girlfriend, and she couldn't be more different than you.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff during the flashback but mainly angst cw: spencer not using his 187 IQ, reader feeling like their not enough, self deprecating thoughts. wc: 3.3k a/n: thought a great way to start my spencer masterlist was with angst! no I'm kidding, I was listening to 'opposite' by sabrina carpenter and felt very inspired, will probably make a part two where they have a happier ending (pls don't yell at me for this) I imagine season 6 Spencer for this, but you can imagine him however you want. this post is long overdue, I hope you love it! (also its not proof read at all so i'm sorry in advanced)

masterlist spencer masterlist

Falling for your coworker was probably the worst thing you could have done, especially when that coworker is Dr. Spencer Reid.

You had a crush on the resident genius since you had joined the team a year after Spencer.

In your mind, there were two scenarios that would happen in the case that he did find out about your infatuation with him.

Either you told him you were in love with him, he rejects you and you have to live with the embarrassment seeing him everyday at work, or you tell him you're in love with him, you start dating and the relationship doesn't work out, living with a Dr. Reid shaped hole in your heart. So you lose either way.

About a year and a half ago you finally decided to tell Spencer how you felt about him. A result of one too many drinks at a bar you were both dragged to.

-

"You know you look really pretty under this lighting Spence," you say, clearly affected by the alcohol in your system.

A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead, a few stray hairs sticking to his face. He was flushed from the few glasses of alcohol he had consumed that night, but regardless, you thought he never looked prettier. Though, that might be the alcohol you consumed talking.

Spencer's cheeks redden a bit from the compliment, his brain working in overdrive to figure out how to respond to your compliment.

"Ah, um, thanks, you always look beautiful y/n," he says, a bit shy with his words.

You blush at his words, looking down towards the glass in your hand.

"It's a bit loud in here, do you want to go outside?" he asks, a bit of hesitation in his voice.

"Well I was just about to leave, will you walk me out?"

"Of course," he quickly responds.

"Okay, let me just grab my purse," you say, putting the glass down on the table behind you.

You grab all of your things, quickly letting the team know you're both leaving so they don't worry.

As you make your way around the bar to say goodbye, the girls give you suggestive glances, and you just shake your head and laugh at their antics.

After saying your goodbyes, you both make your way outside.

Standing right outside the door to the small bar, you shiver as the cold air nips at your skin.

You hear Spencer shuffling next to you, and suddenly he's handing you the cardigan he was wearing.

You're about to respond saying that he'll get cold, but he quickly shuts you up.

"No, no, take it. Between 700 and 1,500 people die from hypothermia in the United States annually. Though you might not think it's not that cold for you to get hypothermia here, it can occur in temperatures above 40°F if someone is chilled from rain, sweat, or cold water. I also just really don't want you to be cold," he finishes his sentence by putting the cardigan in your hands, not letting you say no.

"Thank you Spence, I just don't want you to possibly get hypothermia either," you say with a small laugh.

"Well that's a good concern to have, because men are 9-10 times more likely to get and die from hypothermia. This is because men are more likely to be exposed to the necessary conditions to contract hypothermia, so, I-sorry I'm rambling aren't?" he says, his cheeks turning to a deep shade of red once he realizes that the information continues to spill from his lips.

"No don't worry, I like listening, I always do," you say, a blush of your own covering your cheeks at the confession.

"Yeah, I've noticed, you're really the only one who pays attention to my rambles when were on the plane, or anywhere for that matter," he says, now noticing how the moonlight glows against your skin.

"I've always found it really interesting and kind of attractive that you just have all of this information stored in your head," you say looking up to the stars that littered the sky, completely oblivious to the effect your words had on the genius.

"Attractive? I didn't think you'd ever use that word to describe me," he's a bit stunned at your sentence, because no way the girl he's had a crush on since he laid eyes on her is telling him this.

"Well you don't get the nickname Pretty Boy from just anywhere do you," you say, a teasing smile falling across your lips.

There's a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you after that. Though that doesn't last long.

"Y'know I've had the biggest crush on you since I met you four years ago, I just never thought you felt the same," realizing what you just said, your eyes widened and you quickly turned towards Spencer, about to take back everything you just drunkenly confessed.

"y/n that's not something funny to joke about," he says, completely serious.

"I, no, I'm being serious. I've had the biggest crush in you since I joined the team. I'm pretty sure everyone but you knows, or well that used to be the case."

And just like that the biggest secret that's been resting on your shoulders for the past four years fell from your lips.

"Are you being serious right now?" he asks, as if he truly couldn't believe the words coming from your mouth.

"Spence, you can just reject me, you know. You don't have to play dumb."

Embarrassment wraps around your words, clearly upset that it seems that Spencer is trying to let you down easily.

"y/n, no. I-I like you too. I have for the longest time. If anything, I thought you were the one that wasn't going to feel the same if I'm honest," he says with an awkward smile covering his lips.

"You're serious?"

"Of course I am, I've had the most absurd crush on you since your first day you joined," his blushes a bit at the memory, "I'm surprised you never caught on."

You look down at your shoes, the alcohol seemingly left your body and now you're unsure about how to respond to him. You're about to speak when he interrupts you.

"I, um, I have to go soon, the last train is going to leave in about 27 minutes, but I was wondering if would you want to get coffee with me sometime?" he painfully stutters through his sentence, but you find it endearing, knowing its not due to the cool air outside.

"I would really love that Spence, yeah."

Leaning up to plant a shy kiss on his cheek, you say your goodbyes and make your way to you car to drive home.

Turning back for a second, you see Spencer with his hand on the spot that you gave him a kiss. Almost touching it to keep the warmth there to ensure that it truly happened.

The entire car ride home was bliss, you couldn't believe you told Spencer how you felt, and he actually shared those feelings.

Once you arrive home you realize you never gave Spencer his cardigan back. Wrapping it around yourself a bit tighter, you take your phone out of your pocket, feeling the buzz of a text notification.

From: Spence

Hi y/n! It's Spencer, I just got home. Please let me know when you're home so I know you made it back safe. I'll see you at work on Monday :)

Your face splits into a smile that nearly hurts your cheeks. Realizing you are home, you send him a quick message before getting ready for bed.

To: Spence

Hi Spence, I just got home, thanks for checking up on me. I'll see you at work on Monday, sweet dreams. ♥️

-

You shake your head at the memories. Looking up from the book in your hand, you spot the exact cardigan Spencer gave you that night across the arm of the couch, almost taunting you.

The year you were together was a dream you never thought would come true. You really thought your nightmare of Spencer deciding you weren't good enough and breaking up with you was never going to happen.

Though life isn't all fairy tales.

The job got to you, as people said it would. You both grew stressed and agitated. There never seemed to be enough time in the day, hell in a week, for you two to find time to spend together.

Even though you worked together, you rarely found time to actually separate your relationship from work.

The day you both realized that was the day you mutually came to the decision that it was best if you stayed friends. Or whatever word is used to describe still working with the person that you were the most vulnerable with and knew you inside and out, better than anyone else in the world.

The breakup happened six months ago. It wasn't messy or anything of the sorts, but it definitely created a drift in your relationship with the genius. Everyone in the office could tell, and you both knew that the relationship you shared before you started dating would never return.

Now, months after the breakup you were trying to become the person you used to be before Spencer. Though that seemed like an impossible task. You didn't realize how much of an effect he had on you until he wasn't there anymore.

It was the first Friday that the team wasn't completely swamped in work, so naturally Rossi invited you all to his mansion for one of his infamous pasta nights.

Declaring that we needed to spend time with people other than each other, he also extended the invitation to anyone the team felt like bringing along.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, almost as a safety blanket, you knock on the door. You're sure not even a second goes by before you’re met with the face of Emily. Though she looks a bit distressed, like the evening has started out disastrous already.

"What's up with the face? Did Pen interrupt while Rossi was explaining how to perfectly cook pasta again?"

Letting out a small laugh at your own joke, you look up at Emily's face and realize something must be seriously wrong if she didn't even fake a smile at the lame joke.

"We need to talk," she says, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the house. You walk off into a hallway where both JJ and Penelope are waiting for you.

"Woah, what's wrong? Why are we having some kind of intervention?"

Looking at the both blondes, they keep their lips shut and look towards Emily, practically begging her to break the news to you.

Your voice is small, barely above a whisper when you say Emily's name, worried for what she's about to tell you. Taking a shaky breath, she finally speaks.

"Spencer brought his girlfriend."

As the words came from Emily's mouth you basically felt your entire world collapse around you.

He was dating someone? The same Spencer, who was nervous to even talk to a woman before you started dating, was dating someone else? Just after six months of being broken up he found someone else?

"Emily, please tell me you're joking or I might throw up on Rossi's floor right here," you say, completely serious, feeling your lunch already making its way out of your stomach.

The three of you hear footsteps coming your way and you start praying that it's not the person you want to see least right now.

Mystery person clears their throat and you're met with the face of a concerned looking Derek Morgan. Once he spots the tears in your eyes he opens his arms to give you a hug.

"Oh princess, I'm so sorry," he sighs, rubbing your back affectionately.

"I'll go knock some sense into him if you really want me to."

That gets a small laugh from you, but you quickly shake your head and step out of Derek's arms.

"No," you breath in a shaky breath before saying, "it's okay, seriously. He deserves to move on."

Knowing the words leaving your mouth are a complete lie, the tears return to your eyes and JJ is quick to take Derek's place and bring you into her embrace.

"Oh sweetheart, it's okay, we can stay here for as long as you want okay? Or we could even leave and pretend like you never came in the first place."

Attempting to take a deep breath, you give her a final squeeze and leave her arms.

"No, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, I can handle my ex having a new girlfriend."

They four of them share a weary glance, knowing those words are the furthest thing from the truth.

Penelope is the first to speak as she grabs your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Let's do this angel face."

With that the two of you walk hand in hand to the backyard, greeted with the faces of the rest of your team and their families.

Walking over to the tree where Rossi and Hotch are standing, seemingly deep in conversation, Penelope makes her presence known when she lets out a happy squeal seeing her margarita glass was magically refilled.

"Well, I'll leave you in the hands of the host my love, I see a margarita calling my name," she plants a quick kiss on your cheek before making her way to the table her drink was sitting on.

Knowing that was just Penelope's way of making things a bit more normal for you, you shake your head and laugh at her antics.

Finally turning towards the two men, you see the pity in their eyes and let out a disappointed sigh.

"Seriously, you guys too? If all of you keep looking at me like that he'll definitely know something is wrong and will realize I'm the crazy one for not being over him yet."

Once you finish your sentence Hotch moves to say something but quickly shuts his mouth. His eyes are fixed just right over your shoulder.

Shifting to see what -or better yet who- he was looking at, you turn and find the new couple sitting on the bench near the opposite side of the yard. Your eyes fix on the woman sitting next to Spencer and you’re met with a woman with striking features. As you looked at her closer, you began to realize she looked nothing like you. In fact, she was the complete opposite of you.

Is that what Spencer was looking for this whole time? Did he want you to be more like her? Was he holding out with you just to find someone better?

These thoughts continued to swirl through your mind for the rest of the night. The team was obviously trying to distract you and make you feel better about the whole situation, acting as if it wasn't happening. JJ even asked you to watch Henry for a bit even though neither her nor Will were busy.

Finally the moment you were dreading had arrived, dinner.

Rossi, one for tradition, had a massive dining room table that somehow fit the entire team plus the extra guests.

Opting to sit in between JJ and Emily, you hoped that you could stay quiet all of dinner and quickly leave once it was finished. Really you hoped you didn't have to see Spencer and his girlfriend any longer than you had to.

But your luck seemed to have run out because she took the seat directly across from you, causing Spencer to sit next to her, directly across from Emily.

Looking down at your food you try to ignore them as best as you could, that was until you heard her voice.

"Hi, you must be y/n. I'm Maya, Spencer's girlfriend."

Her voice reaches your ears like nails on a chalkboard and you try your hardest to not physically react to her high pitched voice. God, what was Spencer doing?

Though you quickly rid yourself of the distaste you already have for her and give her your best fake smile.

"Yes, I'm y/n. It's…nice to meet you."

It's almost like the entire table was holding their breath to see what your response would be. Morgan nearly chokes on his drink as you pause to find the words to describe your feelings for meeting her.

The silence continues until Spencer clears his throat. At the sound you look up at him. You realize that was the worst thing you could have done when he doesn't even look at you. Instead he's looking at Maya with the expression you thought was only reserved for you.

Emily is the first to speak after the interaction, some reason directing the conversation towards the couple. Did she just want to see you suffer tonight?

"So Reid, how long have you two been dating?"

Though the question is directed at Spencer, Maya is the one to answer. "Oh me and Spencie? We've been together just over a month!"

She basically screeches the words and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

The table goes quiet again. No one has anything to say, quietly eating their food.

"Hey Uncle Spence, when are you and Auntie y/n/n going to be like that again? I remember you used to hold her hand and give her kisses all the time!"

Oh God. Poor Henry didn't know what he just caused. You nearly spit out your drink at his questions, coughing down the wine you basically inhaled.

JJ's eyes widen, going to apologize for Henry's words until Miss chalkboard decides to speak again, except this time it's her awful laugh that makes an appearance.

"Oh my goodness! That is such a funny joke, little Henry. Kids and their imaginations, am I right?"

Her eyes dance around the table waiting for anyone to respond to her. When no one does she continues with a delighted smile on her face.

"Don't worry y/n, there's no need to say anything about that. I know my Spencie, he would never go for someone like you."

As she finished her sentence the entire table grew silent. The profilers actively deciding if they could get away with the thing they put people in prison for.

Your chair is what breaks the silence this time, screeching against Rossi's wood floors.

"Well I really wish I was a good liar and could say it was nice meeting you but I'm not. I hope you and your Spencie have a wonderful relationship."

For the first time all night Spencer finally talks to you. Though it breaks your heart even further. And it's not the words that come from his mouth, but rather the way he says it. All he says is your name, though he speaks as if he's disgusted that you would say something like that.

Letting out a dry laugh you shake your head and click your tongue, hoping he doesn't see the tears in your eyes when you lock eyes with him.

"I'm so glad to know that our year together meant nothing to you Spencer," you say, turning and leaving the room.

You make your way through the hall to collect your things before leaving. You don't even bother with saying bye to everyone, hoping they would understand.

Closing the door to the coat closet you see JJ standing behind the door, looking at you with eyes full of worry.

"y/n/n, are you okay. Both of them were so out of line, and I'm so sorry about Henry I didn't-"

You effectively cut off her short lived rant by giving her a short hug, knowing if you were in her arms for any longer you would be a crying mess before you even stepped foot out of the house.

"It's fine Jayge, really, you didn't know I don't blame you. And I'm fine. I just really need to go."

With that, you finally make your way out of the house and into your car.

There's only one thought that consumes your mind the entire drive home.

He was just holding out to find the opposite. 

likes, comments, and shares are always appreciated!! loving you always xx

tags: @clairoscharm @agent-nobody-knows

[idyllic-ghost]

title: Forever Yours, Faithfully pairing: lee jihoon x fem!reader genre: romance, fluff, slight angst, smut warnings: mentions of food (sushi) and alcohol, mentions of clothes not fitting (jihoon buys reader something new, but one of the items are uncomfy bc women's sizes are weird), nsfw content (make-out in hot tub, fluffy smut, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it up pls), oral (f receiving), slight overstimulation) synopsis: Ever since you had Valentine's day ruined for you by an ex, you decided to never pay the holiday any attention ever again. However, when your new boyfriend finds out about this, he just has to do something for you and change the connotation you have with the fourteenth. wordcount: 9.7k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag

a/n: breaking my hiatus for a moment to post this valentine's fic! this is a @svthub fic swap for @wooahaeproductions! happy valentine's day, i hope you enjoy!🩷 and a special thank you to @wongyuseokie and @strawberryya for proofing this!

see the rest of the posts for the collab here

join my taglist

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“... I hate it. I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh. Even worse when you make me cry…”

A knock at your door interrupted Kat Stratford’s monologue on your TV screen, forcing you to look away from the movie and put down your bowl of ice cream. Pausing the romantic comedy, you listened to see if you were just hearing things - secretly hoping that was the case. However, there was another knock. It sounded cautious rather than angry, so you had no real reason to worry about who was on the other side of your door. You reached for the tissue box to dry your tear-stained cheeks and adjusted your clothes to make you look at least halfway decent. Before you had even stood up from the couch, there was yet another knock at the door.

“I’m coming!” you shouted and stood up. 

You weren’t expecting anyone and silently hoped it was just your neighbor needing something and not one of your friends trying to take you out for drinks. Valentine’s Day was tough for you, it had been for a couple of years now, and you knew that your friends were only trying to cheer you up. However, when you opened the door, you were met with someone that you hadn’t anticipated.

“Hi.” Jihoon stood in front of you, fidgeting with the strap of a bag.

“Hi,” you said, trying to hide your disheveled self behind the door.

“Have you been crying?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“Oh, uh… I was just watching a movie.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “10 Things I Hate About You… the ending always gets me.”

“Right, I’m sorry I interrupted… I know you said that you didn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day, but…” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I talked to Soonyoung, and he…”

At the mention of your mutual friend’s name, everything fell into place. He wasn’t a bad friend, not at all, but sometimes he found the most particular ways to get in your business. You knew it came from a good place. However, a warning would be nice.

“He blabbed, didn’t he?”

“Yeah…” He looked back at you. “I know it’s only been a couple of months or so, but I don’t want our first Valentine’s to be… well, this…”

“You’ve got something planned?” You couldn’t hide that you were pleasantly surprised, your joyful tone giving you away.

“It’s a bit last minute, but yes.”

You look into your messy apartment, internally fighting with yourself over whether or not letting him in was worth the embarrassment. When you look back at him, he seems patient - Jihoon always had a way of communicating without having to say a single word, his feelings coming through his expressive eyes or his gentle smile. You didn’t need to worry about making him agitated. He was always patient with you. Moving to the side and opening the door ever so slightly more, you silently invite him in. 

You met Jihoon a few years ago, when you were still with your ex. The two of you never talked much, as a result of Jihoon being so introverted and your ex being a possessive jerk. The time spent with your ex wasn’t all bad, but the good times were drowned out by the bad times - such as your last Valentine’s together. Neither of you planned anything for the day, but you decided to do something last minute: dinner and a movie. When you told him of your plan, he exploded at you.

“I hate Valentine’s, okay!? It’s not my fault you think one day of pampering will fix our problems! Just go out with one of the other guys you’ve been texting- I’ve seen your messages!”

The words rang in your ears every time the holiday came, creeping back each year. Throughout the relationship with your ex, your needs were never met when you were with him. Things were different with Jihoon. Once you had broken up with your ex and a few months had passed for you to heal, Soonyoung introduced you to Jihoon again. It started slow, the two of you stayed friends for a little over a year before even considering dating. Mostly because you were still hurt but also because neither of you seemed to figure out what you both felt for each other. You remember your mutual friends’ reaction when you told them you had started dating; “Finally… we can stop pretending that you don’t make googly eyes at each other whenever you’re in the same room”, or something along those lines.

Now that you had been together for a couple of months, you didn’t understand what took you so long. Even though he was busy most of the time, he always put all of his attention on you whenever the two of you were together. However, when Valentine’s Day rolled around yet again, you didn’t plan anything. You didn’t ask or hint at anything that you wanted to do. You just let it be. That way, your heart stayed safe. Valentine’s wasn’t meant for you, or so you thought. Soonyoung had been with you through it and had been a shoulder for you to cry on from time to time. You swearing him to secrecy about the meaning of the day didn’t work when it came to Jihoon. 

“What’s in the bag?” You asked and tried to take a peek.

“You’ll see.” Jihoon smiled proudly and pulled the bag behind his back, away from you. “Go get some things packed - just enough for one night. I’ll wait here for you.”

“Do I need to get dressed?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You looked at Jihoon in his usual attire - an oversized t-shirt, big pants, and slippers - and decided you could leave as you were. While throwing a few necessities in a bag, Jihoon stayed in the hallway and watched you. His proud smile never left him, and it made you all the more excited. Just the fact that he wanted to do something with you at all, and pulled himself out of work on his own accord, made you happier than you had ever been on any other Valentine’s. 

Your happy jitters turned into nerves when you saw where Jihoon was driving you. A five-star hotel. Suddenly, the idea of staying comfortable over being dressed up didn’t feel very smart. It was an expensive part of town; people dressed to the nines walked up and down the streets, and you slowly sank further into your seat. As if he could sense your anxiety, Jihoon put a comforting hand on your thigh.

“We’re going in through a back door. Is that okay with you?” It was his way of reassuring you without pointing out your insecurities. “I want it to stay private. Going in through the main entrance could cause a scene.”

You nodded, although you were mostly happy to hear that you didn’t have to walk around in your sweats amongst people with thousand-dollar suits. Usually, you would’ve considered this a negative side effect of dating someone famous - but this time, it was welcomed.

“... why don’t you take a look in the bag now?” he suggested.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to.”

“Just take a look,” he said, “I think it’ll calm your nerves.”

The bag sat between your legs, so you pulled it up to sit in your lap. Inside the bag was a beautiful green fabric. It felt expensive to the touch. When you pulled it up, you saw that it was a dress - a gorgeous, designer dress. Looking at the bag again, you finally recognize the high fashion brand.

“Jihoon…” You were at a loss for words.

“You’ll have time to freshen up inside, then you can put it on for me.” His eyes stayed on the road, but his ears turned red. “And there’s something else in there too… but you probably don’t want to pull it up in front of the window.”

You rummaged through the bag, seeing something lacy at the bottom of it. Turning to Jihoon with wide eyes, he still didn’t meet your gaze but was smiling. The two of you weren’t necessarily an innocent couple, you were not abstinent, but this was something that he hadn’t done for you before. Any nerves that you had felt before were now replaced with pure excitement. If this was just the beginning, then what else did he have planned?

The two of you made your way up to your suite rather easily. Jihoon got the keycard from the reception and helped carry your bags to the elevator. There weren’t many people around, seeing as you had just missed rush hour, and you ended up getting the elevator all to yourselves. The eleventh button was glowing. You couldn’t remember if you had ever been in a hotel room so high up. While you were lost in your thoughts, Jihoon snuck up right next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. The bags were on the floor right by your feet, right next to the bag with your dress. The memory of the silky fabric made you smile. He had found something to your taste just for this occasion.

“I’m going to order some food when we get up,” Jihoon said. “But there’s a very nice bathroom with a waterfall shower so, if you want to freshen up before we go out later, I can postpone dinner.”

“We’re eating dinner in the hotel room, but still going out after?” You turned to him with an intrigued look. “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a secret.”

The suite was huge - which, to be fair, is what you should expect from a suite. When you walked in, you were met with the king-sized bed, its headboard against the wall. To the left of it were the windows and balcony, and if it hadn’t been for the cold, you would’ve stepped out on it immediately. To the right of the bed, the floor dipped down one step. There stood what seemed to be a jacuzzi. It was covered with a gray sheet, but the nozzle was still visible. On the other side of the jacuzzi was another small step up and a door - which you assumed was the bathroom.

“Where do you want your things?” Jihoon asked after putting his bag next to the bed.

“I’ll take it to the bathroom,” you hummed. 

Jihoon gave you a small nod and a smile before handing you your bag. You carried your bag across the room to the bathroom. Once the door closed, Jihoon’s smile faded. He hated that he had to figure all of this out through Soonyoung. The history between you and your ex, the meaning of Valentine’s Day for you, and even what you wanted. It felt like he didn’t know you at all, even if you had been friends before you started seeing each other romantically. A big clump of sorrow had grown in his throat ever since he talked to Soonyoung about you earlier that day.

He was in his studio, working like any other day of the week. You had told him that you’d rather not do Valentine’s Day. That it wasn’t your thing, and Jihoon had taken that at face value and respected it. He thought it was what he was supposed to do as your boyfriend. If it weren’t for the city's decorations, he would have completely forgotten the holiday. In fact, he had forgotten that it was the fourteenth already. It was only when Soonyoung burst in with a cute bouquet that he remembered what day it was. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Soonyoung had shouted jokingly as he handed him the bouquet.

There was a small pink note attached to it. It said “Be Mine?” in curvy red letters. Jihoon scoffed at the gifts but still put them somewhere he wouldn’t forget them. The flowers had a small plastic bag with a wet paper towel wrapped around their ends, so they could make it another few hours before he put them in a vase.

“Where did you even find a floral shop right now? It’s only eight in the morning.”

“I have my ways.” Soonyoung shrugged. “What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Nothing,” Jihoon said nonchalantly.

The sudden silence from his usually loud friend made Jihoon push off one of the ear cushions of his headphones and turn to him.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re not doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” Soonyoung was unusually serious.

“Y/N said that she’d rather not do anything,” he answered. “Am I not supposed to respect that?”

“Did you ask her why?”

“I just assumed she didn’t like this kind of stuff. She doesn’t like those cheesy things.” Jihoon tried to brush off the sudden feeling of stress that he had done something wrong, but Soonyoung’s sad face only made him worry more.

“Maybe not, but you didn’t plan anything at all?”

“What?”

Soonyoung sighed, before going to make himself comfortable on Jihoon’s couch. Jihoon followed his friend’s every movement, suddenly feeling like it was hard to breathe. Had he really done something wrong by just respecting your wishes?

“I’m going to assume you don’t know anything,” he said.

“Know what?” Jihoon started getting frustrated.

“Okay, well… do you remember that guy Y/N was with a few years back?”

“You don’t have to remind me…” Jihoon sighed and leaned his head back. “Yes. I know what happened between them and that she hasn’t seen him since.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know about Valentine’s,” Soonyoung explained, “She broke up with him the day after- I don’t know all the details, but they fought about what to do on Valentine’s. She was trying to keep the relationship together, and he just snapped - said he didn’t like the fourteenth and basically made her feel like a burden for trying to patch things together.”

Jihoon put his face in his hands, trying to navigate how to handle this new information. How could he have known? Maybe he should have asked, but he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy… Everybody told him that communication is key, but nobody warned him that it would be this difficult.

“Y/N loves Valentine’s Day, as long as it’s not some cheesy thing- she didn’t lie to you about that,” Soonyoung said, “She’s just scared that if she put pressure on you about it, you’d blow up on her.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because everyone’s not always rational.” Soonyoung stood back up and walked over to him. “Like you right now, you’re probably worrying about her not feeling safe around you. She does. She just has her problems to deal with. Instead of worrying, you should do something.”

“What? Like dinner and a movie?”

“No-” Soonyoung cleared his throat. “No. That’s what she wanted to do with her ex. Find something else.”

“What do people do on Valentine’s?” Jihoon’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find the answer to his question in some corner of his mind. 

“Wine tasting.”

“Wine tasting?”

“She’s always wanted to go, and I know a place- and the owner…” He paused and quickly added, “Well… Mingyu knows the owner, but you get my point.”

“And you think Y/N wants that?”

“Definitely. Go find Mingyu and ask him to help you out.”

“I will, thank you.” Jihoon stood up and walked over to the door but turned to face his friend again. “When did you start acting wise?”

“I’m a man of many mysteries.” Soonyoung joked. “You can thank me by letting me borrow your studio.”

“... fine.”

“Yes!” He quickly got up his phone and started tapping. “If you see me go live, no, you don’t.”

Not even wanting to think about what that meant, Jihoon left the studio with a huff.

The sound of the water turning on in the shower brought Jihoon out of his thoughts. You seemed happy, albeit nervous, so he shouldn’t have anything to worry about… but he couldn’t help worrying about you and your feelings. He would do anything to make you forget about your past connotations with today. Jihoon got out his phone and looked at his messages. “Do you know that Soonyoung’s in your studio right now?” sent in different variations from many different people… he would have to worry about this later. Tonight was supposed to be all about you, so he turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket.

You were blissfully unaware of Jihoon’s troubles as you stood in the stream of the waterfall shower. The warm water created a comforting barrier around your body. The steam from it created a mist that seemed to silence all sounds except the water hitting the floor.  You could close your eyes and forget everything around you for a moment. Letting the water run over your head yet another time before turning the nozzle off, you let yourself have a moment of pure silence. Without the water running down your body, the cold air started tickling your skin. You reached outside the shower and grabbed your towel, drying yourself off before wrapping it around you. 

The bathroom of the suite was as luxurious as the rest of it. There was a window, currently fogged up from the steam, facing another part of the city than the windows in the bedroom. The toilet seemed to have different settings, given the many buttons you didn’t dare touch, and the sink had a wide marble top. In a box on the sink, there were a plethora of travel-sized sample products - and you looked through their assortment before doing your skincare. You could hear Jihoon talking on the other side of the door, probably ordering the two of you room service, but his voice was too muffled for you to hear what he was saying. You wondered just how much Soonyoung had told Jihoon for him to act this way. Jihoon wasn’t neglectful. However, he didn’t always know how to express how he felt through acts of service or coming up with cute dates. The two of you spent most of your time together the way you had when you were just friends, with some changes of course. Your most precious memories with Jihoon were from the simple times; watching movies together, going out to get coffee, or laying in bed together during the morning when neither of you could get up. He knew he didn’t have to do something like this, you had told him yourself, but he decided to do it anyway. You smiled to yourself as you put on the fluffy hotel bathrobe. 

When you got out of the bathroom, you looked to your left to see an entire area of the room that you seemed to have missed. Your want for a luxurious shower was bigger than your want to explore the room, it seemed. The unknown area of the hotel room had a couch with a TV in front of it and a lonely armchair standing in the corner. There was a small bar with a minifridge, and on the coffee table stood a pink, heart-shaped box and a bouquet of red roses in a vase. Beside the coffee table stood a very flustered Jihoon, looking puzzled at the sight of the box and flowers.

“Are those for us?” You asked, making Jihoon look at you.

He paused for a moment at the sight, forgetting the box of chocolates on the table, his jaw first going slack before he started smiling. Clearing his throat, he looked back at the coffee table and picked up a note to show you.

“It looks that way,” he said.

You took the note from him; “Enjoy the evening! Happy Valentine’s Day, from the staff of Prestige View,” it said in bold golden letters. You turned it around in your hand, but there was nothing else on the back. 

“I told them it was a Valentine’s getaway. I didn’t think they’d do something like this so last minute,” Jihoon said and took another look at you. “Did you enjoy the shower?”

“It was the most wonderful shower I’ve had in a while.” You put down the card and approached him with your arms open. “Thank you for doing this. It’s very sweet.”

“You don’t have to thank me… I wanted to do this,” he assured you as he wrapped his arms around you. 

Jihoon nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his cool breaths against your warm skin. You squeezed him tighter as he whispered how beautiful you looked. It was barely audible, and you silently acknowledged it by pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He pulled away from you with a small smile, his eyes sparkling with adoration. Your moment was ruined by a knock at your door and a voice shouting, “Room service!”. 

“I’ll get that; make yourself comfortable.” Jihoon left your side.

You sat down on the plush cushions of the couch, practically sinking into the fabric - almost like floating on a cloud. Just as you put a blanket over your legs, Jihoon comes back with a big tray. You let out a delighted gasp as he put it down on the coffee table. 

“You still like sushi, right?” Jihoon joked as he went to grab two bottles of water from the mini-fridge.

“Yes.” You looked over the large tray and the many different kinds of sushi bites.

Quickly, you patted the space beside you for him to sit down. Jihoon put the bottles on the table and sat down. You captured his face with your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a thank-you kiss. The sudden act of affection had the man beside you stumped - barely moving while you reached for the tray with your chopsticks.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he chortled with a reddened face.

“No, am not- dish ish amashing,” you said with your hand over your mouth to hide the piece of sushi you were still chewing.

You looked over at Jihoon, who had still not touched the food. He was still stuck looking at you as if he was trying to memorize every detail of how you looked at this moment. With one hand, he reached over to your head and ruffled your hair despite your grunts of protest coming from you.

“Eat well,” he said and started eating himself.

Once the food was finished, at least as much as you could muster, and after a food coma nap on the couch, the two of you started getting ready for the mysterious evening. Whatever he had planned, Jihoon wasn’t telling you. All you knew was that he wanted you to wear the dress he had gotten you, so while Jihoon was in the shower, you picked up the bag and looked at the garments inside. It was a silky dress and lingerie with a matching color. The thought of your boyfriend knowing exactly what you were wearing under your dress throughout the rest of the evening felt exciting in some strange way.

Your fingers grazed the green fabric of the dress - you were almost too afraid to put it on. It looked expensive. A part of you wondered how he had gotten it so fast. Had he gotten someone else to get it for him? Had he gone into stores himself? Picturing it in your head almost made you start laughing. You could see him furrowing his brows at the sizes and different shapes. Mustering up the courage to put it on, you sadly find out that the underwear doesn’t fit very comfortably. And although you want to wear it for him, it would just not work. So you put on the undergarments that you had brought with you - which were not as luxurious as the ones he had bought, but they were still pretty. You had packed it at the last minute, just in case you needed it.  More importantly, the dress fit you perfectly to the point that you questioned how he could pick it out.

When Jihoon got out of the bathroom, he was already dressed. His hair was still slightly damp, it was slicked back to the best of his abilities, but a few strands of hair still fell over his face. His all-black suit made you think of one of those dramas where the main female character gets together with a demon. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, but his eyes drifted over to the bed where the lingerie he bought was still lying. “Are you…”

“It didn’t fit,” you answered quickly. “I put on something that I brought. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, it’s okay.” He walked over to the bed to return the garments  in their bag. “I’ll just get you a better size next time.”

“Next time?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Sure, why not?” He put the bag down on the floor and turned back to you. “I liked getting you these…”

“Well, I won’t stop you.” You walked up next to him and held onto his arm. “You look very handsome, by the way.”

Jihoon put his hand on top of yours, still holding onto his forearm, and gently squeezed it as a silent thank you. A soft squeeze of your hand was his usual way of communicating things to you that he didn’t know how to express verbally. The casual compliment proved too much for him; he avoided eye contact, and you could see his ears turning red. You would never think that this man could get so flustered the first time you talked to him. He was quiet then too, but he was calm and collected. Maybe it was a front, and maybe he was good at hiding these things from strangers - either way, you were happy that he felt a little more comfortable now.

The two of you made your way to the hotel restaurant, and you were looking for something that could tell you what you were in for. Dark hallways and furniture, lit up by elegant chandeliers in the ceiling and sleek lights on the walls, made the hotel seem endless. You and Jihoon walked in comfortable silence, mostly because you were trying to focus on finding signs. There were other people around you dressed in visibly expensive clothes, so you knew that it wasn’t a private event. However, you had no idea what kind of thing Jihoon could come up with. 

At the entrance to the restaurant, you were greeted by a tall man with a slim mustache. He was dressed in the colors of the hotel and had a small name tag. You neither had the time nor energy to read what it said, as it was written in complicated cursive, and the man quickly opened the door for you after Jihoon said his name. In the restaurant, there were round tables placed in a half-circle. By each table stood two chairs, and the man by the door brought you to one by a large floor-to-ceiling window. Out the window, you could see the entire city. It wasn’t very late, so most of the windows in the buildings surrounding you were lit. The man pulled the chair out for you, and you sat down.

“Thank you,” you said, and the man walked away.

A tall candle, a small plate and knife, and a myriad of wine glasses were on the table. In front of you was a small card, and on the front of it said “Menu” in the same kind of cursive as on the man’s ineffective name tag.

“Are we eating more?” you asked with a worried glance at Jihoon.

“Open it,” he answered simply.

You opened the card and read a list of French and Italian names, most of which you couldn’t pronounce. 

“Wine?” You looked back up at Jihoon with big eyes. “Is this a wine-tasting event?”

“Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said with a big smile. “Thank you, honey.”

Jihoon didn’t have time to respond as another man, dressed similarly to the man by the door, stood in the middle of the half-circle and began speaking. The murmur of the people in the room died down as everyone turned their attention to the man.

“Welcome to our Valentine’s wine-tasting event,” he said with a clear and loud voice, “I will be presenting the wines for you all tonight, along with the assortment of refreshments that go along with them. To start the night, our servers are currently providing you with an extra dry Prosecco.”

A server approached your table and poured the sparkling wine into your glasses as if on cue. The murmur started up again as everyone began talking about the wine. You thanked the waiter, and he walked away. 

“This 2022 sparkling wine, made of the Glera grape, has hints of apple and honey,” the wine presenter said. “This is produced in the province of Trieste, Italy…”

The man kept talking, but you started to tune him out when he started saying words you didn’t recognize. You carefully sniffed the wine before taking a sip of it.

“Good?” Jihoon asked.

“Very good.” You put your glass down and opened the booklet of wines. “I don’t know how much I should drink of it… how many glasses are on the menu?”

“Six,” he answered. “Including the Prosecco.”

You looked at the list; Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, Merlot, Nebbiolo, and Vin Santo… yeah, you’d be drunk by the end. The glasses weren’t extremely big, and they certainly didn’t fill the glass all the way, but there was no way you’d walk out of here just barely tipsy if you drank everything. 

“Drink as much as you want, okay?” Jihoon brought you out of your spiraling thoughts. “I’ll take care of you- even if I have to carry you out of here.”

You chuckled at his joke and comfortably brought the glass of Prosecco to your lips again. Jihoon was still looking at you when you put your glass down. He had a certain look in his eye that you had only really seen a couple of times before. Mischief mixed with something sentimental - playful and romantic.

“What?” You asked.

“All of this…” He motioned to your surroundings. “It suits you… it’s sexy.”

“Sexy?” You raised your brows as you raised your glass to your lips again. “Good to know.”

Jihoon looked away from you, one of his hands coming up to hide his reddened face. He let out a huff and straightened his back.

“I just mean that-”

“No, I heard you,” you teased.

Before Jihoon could get another word in, the servers came out with the next wine; Pinot Grigio, paired with small crackers with goat cheese and apricot jam. The presenter began speaking about the wine again, but your head was already buzzing, and you were far too distracted to listen to him. One of your feet was running up the inside of Jihoon’s calf. Your hand was resting on the table between you, and Jihoon quickly put his hand on top of yours. 

“What are you up to?” He asked with a strained smile.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” You picked up the second glass of wine as you brought your foot up higher.

You brought the wine to your lips, letting out a delighted hum before putting the glass down again. Jihoon squeezed your hand as your foot was now brushing against the inside of his thigh. Instead of backing down, you let go of Jihoon’s hand and picked up one of the crackers. A little bit of jam got on your finger as you put the appetizer in your mouth. You locked eyes with him as you put the tip of your finger in your mouth.

“You’re insatiable,” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged and grabbed your drink again.

Jihoon shook his head slowly, picking up his glass. However, just as he started to enjoy teasing, you brought your foot back down. He gave you a confused look, trying to figure out your motive.

“Did you like the wine?” You asked, ignoring the tension growing between you.

After each glass, the soft buzzing feeling in your head grew more prominent. You got giggly and touchy - you couldn’t seem to let go of Jihoon’s hand across the table. The restaurant offered you bread and other refreshments along with your drinks and played romantic ballads over the speakers. It wasn’t like anything you had done with Jihoon before, but it was just perfect for tonight. Your teasing under the table had stopped, although you sometimes nudged your foot next to his, but the tension it had left between you didn’t break. At this point, you weren’t listening to the wine presenter nor taking his advice on how you should drink the wine. Maybe some of the wine-tasting experience was gone because of it, but you were more than content with the night still. When they brought out the Vin Santo, they also came out with a dessert; a tiramisu shaped into a heart and two spoons. Jihoon quickly picked up one of the spoons and let it sink into the dessert. The spoon dipped into the creamy dessert, ruining the layer of cacao powder laying on top. Picking the spoon back up with a perfectly bite-sized piece on it, he held it up to your mouth. 

“Are you feeding me?” You asked with a giggle.

“I want you to have the first bite.” He smiled and urged the spoon toward you again.

You opened your mouth and as you closed it around the spoon, you were hit with an explosion of flavor - the strong espresso, the bitter cacao, and the sweet lady-fingers and cream. The two of you laughed, for no real reason, as Jihoon pulled back the spoon. 

“This has been so nice,” you said and motioned to the last glass on the table. “But I won’t be able to finish this drink…”

“That’s alright,” he hummed. “Do you want to… go back to our room?”

“Yes, please.”

After, not so carefully, sneaking out of the restaurant while the wine presenter was talking, you walked through the long hallways towards your room. Jihoon's hand was at first only placed on your lower back, but eventually snuck around your waist to keep the both of you upright. The two of you had been drinking a lot, but the long walk helped sober you up just a little. You'd definitely get a headache in the morning, but it wasn't something you couldn't handle. As the two of you finally got to your hallway, you were ready to throw yourself in bed - but Jihoon apparently had other plans.

“I still have another surprise for you, you know.” He held your waist firmer, keeping you close to his side. “They should’ve set it up for us in the room by now.”

You excitedly giggled as you watched Jihoon fumble with the keycard before unlocking the door. As soon as he opened it, the smell of roses hit your nose. By your feet laid a trail of red rose petals, which was leading you into the room. You followed the trail with careful steps and looked up as they came to a stop. The jacuzzi was now turned on and bubbling. In the water, even more rose petals were floating. Jihoon came up behind you and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

“Is it okay?” He whispered next to your ear.

“It’s perfect,” you answered softly and with a warm smile. “If this is last minute, I can’t even imagine what you could do with time on your hands.”

“You could find out,” he suggested and pressed a kiss to the area where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jihoon’s words, although softly spoken and barely over a whisper, sent a shiver down your spine. His hands played with the fabric of your dress, and you leaned back against his chest to fully welcome his embrace. The soft kisses he was placing on your shoulder and neck didn’t stop, and you leaned your head to the side to allow him more access.

“I’d love to keep this going,” you whispered. “But I don’t want to waste all this.”

Your boyfriend sighed and let you go, the absence of his arms leaving a chilly imprint around your waist. You went to take off your shoes. After putting your feet on the floor, you looked up to see Jihoon taking out his button-up from his pants to unbutton it. You watched in anticipation as he shrugged off the shirt, watching the muscles in his back move as he did. He threw his shirt on a chair before unbuckling his belt, all while being unaware of you ogling at him. When his pants had been unbuttoned, he finally looked back at you - at your fully dressed form.

“Are you going to make me get in alone?” He asked.

“I…” You paused to find an excuse. “Well, since I didn't have time to get you a Valentine's Day present, I thought you could unwrap me instead.”

"Ah, so that's the only reason you were just standing there looking at me?" Jihoon teased.

"Definitely." You nodded, content with your answer.

Jihoon motioned for you to come over to him, which you quickly did. You had no trouble unzipping yourself from this dress but getting a little help never hurt. His hands made work of your zipper, slowly dragging it down your back. The soft touch of his fingers tracing the edges of your lingerie had your head buzzing more than the amount of wine you had been drinking. 

“Thank you,” you murmured and let the straps slide off your shoulders.

It always felt a little nerve-wracking to get undressed in front of him - being vulnerable with him like this was still somewhat new to you. Nevertheless, the feeling of him embracing you again comforted you. 

“You look beautiful,” he said. "I thought it'd be fun to buy lingerie for you, but letting it be a surprise might be better..."

You got out of his grip and turned to him, putting a hand on his chest to prevent him from wrapping his arms around you again. Jihoon was grinning like a love-sick fool - an expression that you hadn’t seen much of before, but that you could definitely get used to.

“Stop fooling around,” you said. “We haven’t even gotten in the hot tub yet…”

"Then let me finish unwrapping my present," he argued with a flirtatious tone.

You let your hand fall to your side, allowing Jihoon to approach you again. His hands went behind your back, playing with the edge of your lingerie again before unhooking the bra. He took his hands back from behind you and gently, almost innocently, pulled the straps of your bra down. The garment fell to the floor with a soft thud. Jihoon brushed your hair to the side, pressing a few kisses on your neck before trailing them down your clavicle; down between the valley of your breast, over your stomach. When he was down on his knees, he looked back up you - silently asking for permission as he played with the hem of your panties. You nodded, and Jihoon pressed a kiss to your hipbone before pulling them down.

After getting fully undressed, and after Jihoon grabbed the box of chocolates and two bottles of water, you sat down in the jacuzzi. With one hand, he opened up the box and put the lid on the floor. He picked up a random piece and put it in his mouth, making a weird grimace.

“Not good?” You asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “Could you hand me the water?”

You picked up one of the bottles for him, unscrewing the top and handing it to him before you grabbed the second bottle for yourself. Drinking the cold water contrasted nicely with the hot bath. While it didn’t help you to sober up completely, it helped you clear your head a little.

“Sad to let them go to waste…” you said as you put the cap back on your bottle, and he hummed in agreement. 

“I’ll take them with me, maybe someone else likes them.” He put down the water bottle and offered to put yours down as well, which you gladly accepted.

Jihoon let out a sigh and leaned his head back, while you moved over to sit beside him. One of your hands caressed his chest and landed on his shoulder, while your head rested on his other shoulder. Jihoon wrapped one of his arms around your frame, trying to pull you impossibly close.

“Tonight was perfect,” you confessed.

“You’re talking like the night’s over.” He turned his head to look at you.

“It’s not over?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Jihoon cupped your face in his palm, bringing your face closer to his. 

The two of you looked into each others’ eyes before he suddenly broke out into an embarrassed fit of giggles. His forehead leaned against yours.

“Sorry… that was cheesy, wasn’t it?” His thumb was caressing your cheekbone, slowly going back and forth over the soft skin.

“It was sweet,” you assured him. “But a little bit cheesy, yes.”

He let out another short laugh and turned away from you, suddenly very shy. Your hand left his shoulder to turn his face back to you. The way that he looked at you drowned out all sound, even the sound of the hot tub jets, and for a moment you let yourself be engulfed by bliss. It wasn’t how you had imagined spending Valentine’s Day - it was better than you could have imagined. You wrapped your arms around Jihoon’s neck and brought him closer for a kiss. At first, it was gentle, practically just a peck, but then you grew hungry. In a sudden need for more, you pressed your lips against his again. Your lips danced for dominance, all the while Jihoon gripped your hips to maneuver you to straddle his lap. Everything was spinning, you found yourself completely lost in his kiss - only for Jihoon to break it, the feeling of him smiling against your lips making you smile as well.

“What?” you asked, out of breath.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just you.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but couldn’t help your smile growing wider. Jihoon pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips, then on your jaw, down your neck, and on your clavicle. Exploring every inch of you that he could reach, Jihoon pulled you in closer. The action made you come closer to his already hardened cock. Testing out the waters, you started slowly grinding against him. Between lingering kisses against your skin, Jihoon let out soft groans and whimpers - it wasn’t even in his head to tell you to stop. Your fingers raked through his hair, silently urging him to keep going.

“Jihoon.” You let out a shaky breath. “Baby…”

“What?” He pulled away and looked up at you, pupils blown out to double their normal size and hair messy by your doing. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

“In here?” He looked amused at your sudden desire. “Right now?”

“I don’t care-”

In a split second, Jihoon manhandled you to sit with your back against his chest. Water splashed around the tub, possibly spilling off the edge as laughter spilled from your lips. One of Jihoon’s arms was wrapped around your waist, while his other hand was spreading your thighs apart. His lips were back on your neck again - his kisses and his fingers drawing patterns on the inside of your thigh were making you dizzy.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

“Yes.”

At this point, you were aching - the simple touch of his hand where you needed him most had you falling apart. While his middle- and ring finger circled your clit, his other hand ran across your body. Jihoon was everywhere, there was no way you could escape him - so you let yourself be engulfed by all of him, slowly sinking into your body. Your mouth hung open, and your moans and whines were impossible to hide. His hot breath fanned against your neck, teeth grazing against the delicate skin before his soothing tongue made contact with it. His other hand reached your chest, fingers circling your nipple. Suddenly, in desperate need to ground yourself, you grabbed his hand. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers plunged inside you, his palm still grazing against your clit. The grip you had on his hand tightened, and you could feel him smiling against your neck. Jihoon’s hand moved expertly as if he already knew every crevice of your body - and where his touch would drive you mad. Your hips stuttered against his hand.

“There you go,” he murmured in your ear. “Fall apart on my fingers, baby, you can let go.”

The feeling of him lightly biting down on your earlobe, and the persistent thrusting of his fingers, made something snap in your lower stomach. A wave of pleasure washed over you, your body moving on its own against his hand. You could hear water splashing on the floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about it at that moment. Jihoon left his hand in between your legs, letting you ride out your high against it. His other hand lovingly held onto yours still, not even planning on letting go unless you did so first.

“Are you alright, darling?” His velvety voice brought you back to the real world.

As soon as you tried to move, Jihoon helped you to move your legs to sit across his lap. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you finally found your voice.

“I’m more than alright,” you answered.

One of Jihoon’s hands rested on your back, while the other held your legs. In his arms, you were safe - you had a feeling you always would be. You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck and closed your eyes. However, the feeling of something hard pressing against your thigh had your mind drift off to other things.

“Jihoon?”

He hummed in response.

“Could you help me get to bed?”

“Tired already?”

“Not a chance.”

The two of you managed to get out of the hot tub and dry off quickly - not caring about being completely dry before moving over to the bed. Plush pillows and covers welcomed you as you practically jump into them. You held out your arms to Jihoon, and he quickly came to your embrace. Leaning over you, his hair fell in front of his face - but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead of brushing it to the side, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips. Clearly, he had a more important objective, and so it was up to you to brush his hair away from his face. You held it back, intertwining your fingers in his locks, and he let out a delighted sigh as your nails gently scratched against his scalp.

“Let me take care of you too,” you suggested as you broke the kiss.

For a moment, Jihoon considered it. He couldn’t deny that he loved having your lips wrapped around his cock, or even just your hand, but he couldn’t forget why he was here in the first place. 

“Tonight’s about you,” he reminded you. “Just relax and let me take care of the rest.”

You couldn’t exactly say no to that kind of proposition. One of Jihoon’s hands traveled down your body again, separating your legs for a second time tonight. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. The soft and slow was nice, but now you were getting antsy. A smile flashed across Jihoon’s face, which he tried to hide by biting down on his bottom lip. Showing him your unabashed want for him was something he’d never get used to. As he lined himself up with your core, you moved your hands to grip onto his shoulders. The stretch of him entering still managed to feel like the first time you had been with him like this. As he bottomed out, you let out a guttural moan - still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.

“Fuck, you feel amazing…” Jihoon rested his head in the crook of your neck.

Having struggled through the entire night, trying not to take you on the couch earlier or even on top of the restaurant table, this alone was almost too much. The sting from your nails digging into his back cleared up his fogged-up head slightly, and he started moving. Jihoon’s movements were slow, agonizingly so, but if he moved any faster he was afraid he might cum on the spot. This entire night had been a tease for him, and now that he finally got what he wanted he didn’t know how to act. Jihoon lifted his head and looked at your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your eyes shut tight, and your bottom lip slipped between your teeth. Brushing his thumb against your cheek, and cupping your face in his palm, your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

“Please, Jihoon,” you whimpered. “Just a little faster?”

How could he say no to you? His hips picked up their pace, while his head was back in the crook of your neck. You let out a surprised moan as his teeth dug into your skin, as he tried to contain himself. How could you look more beautiful every time he laid his eyes upon you? Jihoon swore that you’d kill him someday if it continued like this. He leaned back up on his arm. The hand that wasn’t holding him up went to grab your thigh, pulling one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder. A string of swears flooded out of his mouth, and he switched positions so that he was sitting up. Your hips were pulled up on his thighs, your back arched up from the bed, and your jaw went slack as Jihoon’s hips pistoned into you - hitting a spot inside you each time that made you see stars. Your hands went to grab something, anything and landed on the sheets. The white fluffy sheets creased under the pressure of your grip. You couldn’t hold it in anymore - between managing to hit your g-spot with each thrust and your previous orgasm, you were getting all too close to the edge.

“Oh- shit,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned in response.

Your body twitched as you let go, cumming a second time this night. Jihoon, filled with a sudden determination, didn’t stop. He switched positions to lean over you again. The more intimate position allowed you to grab onto him again. Even when you had come down from your orgasm, he didn’t stop - and you weren’t about to tell him to to do so.

“Give me another one,” he practically begged.

“I can’t-”

“Yes you can, darling,” he growled. “Just let go of everything, just focus on me.”

Your legs were around his hips again, and your arms wrapped around his neck. Jihoon leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes staring into your soul. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, messily rubbing your swollen clit. You felt like you were about to explode, spasming at his movements.

“Fuck- I love you,” he groaned, “Cum for me again, darling- cum with me…”

At his command, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came for a third time. Jihoon followed shortly after, pulling out to cum on your stomach. He threw his head back as he pumped his cock with his fist. Your limbs were unmovable, falling to the bed with a thump. His words rang in your ears. “I love you”. Was it a slip-up? Something that just happened in the heat of the moment? Or did he mean it? You didn’t have much time to think about it. Jihoon placed a kiss on your forehead, mumbling something about getting you cleaned up, before he got off the bed and went over to the bathroom. 

Jihoon came back with the forgotten water bottles from before and a warm, wet towel - cleaning you up with a gentle touch, making sure that he wasn’t too rough with your aching body. When he was done, helped you under the covers before he got in himself. The water bottles were standing on the bedside table, waiting for you tomorrow morning when you’d need them most. You lay on your side, and Jihoon curled up next to you - his arms wrapped around your frame. The words he had spoken never left your thoughts. Jihoon, unaware of your spiraling thoughts, cuddled closer to you, but your stiff body caught him off guard.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” He asked quickly.

“No- no… I’m fine,” you said. “It’s just… did you mean that?”

“What did I say?” Jihoon’s eyes widened.

“When you-… before-… you said ‘I love you’,” you mumbled.

With his body lying so close to you, you could hear his breath hitch. A moment of silence passed between the two of you. Jihoon’s fingers were nervously drumming against your back, you could almost hear the gears in his brain turning to think of something to say. He stirred around the bed, moving to look at you. There was no regret in his eyes, only worry.

“I’m sorry-”

“I love you too.”

Jihoon let out a short breath, which turned into a relieved laugh. The sound of his laugh made you relax, melting into his embrace again. You were struck with a sudden wave of embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest. He put his chin on the top of your head, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“I didn’t mean to let it slip out like that,” he murmured. “I mean- I was planning on telling you, just not… like that.”

“I know,” you said and adjusted yourself to look back at him again. 

Jihoon’s body relaxed under your hands, his muscles releasing any sign of tension. There was a little voice in your head, anxiously asking “What now?”, but you decided to ignore it for now. At this point, you had no reason to worry. You had an entire future ahead of you, and you got to spend it with the man lying next to you. It was more than you could ask for. Suddenly, Jihoon got a weird look on his face - as if he had just remembered something important that he had forgotten to do. 

“Shit… did I forget to ask you to be my Valentine?” he asked.

You thought back to the day, trying to remember if he had ever carried out the silly tradition, and couldn’t recall that he had asked you.

“I think so,” you hummed. “You have to hurry, the day’s almost over.”

There wasn’t a clock nearby that you could check, it might have already been the fifteenth, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Jihoon cleared his throat ceremoniously and tried his best not to burst out laughing again.

“Will you be my Valentine, Y/N?”

“I’ll always be your Valentine, Jihoon,” you answered.

Quiet laughs echoed through the big room, as the two of you lay in bed talking until you fell asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ 　 ✦ B O N U S ✦ ⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ 　

"Sooo?"

Jihoon hadn't even noticed that Soonyoung had approached him, or that he was even in the building, and jumped a little as the man came up beside him.

"So what?" Jihoon kept walking towards the elevator.

"How was the date?"

"Good."

"Just good?"

"Yeah."

The two of them stood in silence, both of them waiting for the elevator to reach their floor. Jihoon adjusted his sunglasses and hoodie, trying to not avoid the bright lights as much as possible. He had wanted to stay at the hotel with you, to spend a quiet morning in bed together was all he wanted. However, when he's suddenly called into an important meeting he can't just ignore it - no matter how much he wanted to. Jihoon let out a quiet sigh. You were probably still in bed right now. He had paid the hotel to make sure you could take as long as you wanted to get up, all you had to do was leave the keycard in the reception before you left. As Soonyoung started whistling, Jihoon seriously started to regret not giving into your pleading to stay in bed with you. He'd kill to get to still be under those covers - he'd even let you press your cold feet against his warm body if it meant that Soonyoung would just stop whistling.

"Would you stop that?" He hissed.

"Damn... you woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Soonyoung huffed. "Poor Y/N... she probably can't even walk, right?"

"What?"

"Because of the hangover," he explained. "If you're like this, I can only imagine what it's like for her. How much did you drink last night?"

Jihoon stayed quiet.

"Wait, what did you think I meant?" Soonyoung asked with a knowing smile.

"Shut up," Jihoon groaned.

"I'm just joking, come on!" He poked Jihoon's arm. "Did you bring me back a souvenir?"

Jihoon, struck with a sudden wave of evil genius, reached into his bag and took out the weird-tasting chocolates. He handed them to Soonyoung, who giddily accepted them.

"Chocolates? For me? Gosh, you're such a romantic!"

Finally, the doors to the elevator opened with a pleasant ding. The two idols walked in, still completely silent. Seokmin came running down the hall, holding his hand out and shouting at them to hold the elevator. Jihoon held his hand out before the doors could close, and the younger man managed to get in just in time.

"Thank you," he said breathlessly.

The elevator started going up, while the three of them stood in silence. However, Seokmin quickly took note of the big pink box Soonyoung was holding.

"Who gave you chocolates? Isn't it a little late."

"Jihoon got them for me," Soonyoung bragged.

"Is that true?" Seokmin looked over at Jihoon who nodded. "Wow, I almost thought you'd bite his head off after Soonyoung's live yesterday... I mean I know it was Carat Day, but I didn't expect you to do that in..."

Soonyoung tried to shush the younger man, but it was already too late. Jihoon sighed, and turned his head to the elevator doors again. Maybe turning off his phone for the night wasn't the best idea, even if it was worth it to spend a quiet evening with you.

"Soonyoung," Jihoon said with a stern voice. "What did you do in my studio?"

[vicariousresearcher]

You're a girl in one of those reverse gloryholes but for your first day you got put up on the high shelf.

afab reader, oral (f.recieving), prositution, glory hole, first time ever writing smut so be prepared for that.

--------

It was noisy. Much more than you’d think it would be. Then again it would be weird for it to be quiet.

High-pitched, performative moans taken straight out of a porn film. You had checked that this joint (didn’t) have a camera in the corner just in case this was, in fact, a porn film.

The leather you laid on had long warm, hamstrings sore from being spread and extended up. Loose straps are secured around your ankles. You kept swishing your legs from side to side because there was nothing to do up here.

When you signed up for this you’d thought you’d have at least gotten some action but they put you on this high shelf. Something about getting used to the positioning or whatever.

What was going to take getting used to was how damn boring this was. A couple of gropes here, lewd comments there, and if you got lucky-a couple of clumsy fingers fumbling their way around your clit before you were left for a girl actually at hip level.

Hard, slow footsteps picked themselves out of the puddle of sounds. Someone was coming over to your sad corner of dryness.

A hot breath on the inside of your thigh was the first different thing. Calloused fingers spreading your lips was the second.

“Oh, you poor thing.” A gruff voice spoke from behind the curtain that draped over your belly. A thin barrier to stop you from seeing who was inspecting your holes. So neglected you weren’t even wet in a place where grunts and moans drowned out everything else. Must’ve been such torture.

You felt a glob of saliva hit you as he dragged his fingers through it. Skimming over your entrance and working it into your clit with lazy circles.

He heard you sigh from your side of the curtain. The muscles in your legs visibly relaxing. Truly you had been abandoned by being put up on the high shelf. Not a cock fed into your mouth or cunt to keep you satiated. 

He took it slow-too slow in your opinion. Had you clenched and unclenching your fists to avoid not reaching down and grabbing at him.

But oh he knew what he was doing. One hand working at your clit, the other groping at your ass. Mouth pressed against the inside of your thigh. He must be very tall, you concluded. Tall enough not only to reach you but to peck almost up to your knee.

You were drooling onto the leather pad below by the time he let those kisses drift down. Juices glisten off your cunt. So much better than when he found you. 

Scruff rubbed against the fat of your ass as he plunged his tongue into its crevice. Licking a fat stripe all the way up only to go back down. Like a starved dog with its first meal in a week.

You couldn’t decide if his mouth was that of a very experienced man or one who hadn’t had the touch of a woman in years.

Fuck it was almost good enough. His tongue was warm and kept lapping over your entrance. Gummy walls clamping down in anticipation with each brush. You just needed a little bit more-

Your hand got slapped away when you reached it down to finger at your clit. 

Your huff of annoyance was cut short when his mouth latched around your bud. Jolting you into a half-sitting position. You could've sworn you heard a low chuckle when that mouth unlatched. If only you could under that thin little curtain, get your fingers into his hair and grind his mouth into you properly.

Gathering the wetness that was leaking from your pussy on his fingers, he pushed into you. Tongue still working at your clit while he dug in deep. Scissoring his fingers till he found that spongy spot that made you jump.

Embarrassingly loud squelches joined the cacophony of noises. Mewls and moans of your own came out when he prodded the blunt ends of his fingertips against your cervix.

You kept expecting him to pull back at some point a girl to open up and his attention to be drawn away only for you to be left high and definitely not dry.

But his small, strained grunts weren’t just from having his head buried between your legs but his free hand fishing his cock out of his jeans. Fisting it clumsily with his non-dominant hand because you deserved all the grace he could manage. 

The head all red and angry as he tried to imagine his cock where his fingers were. How much stronger you’d clamp down on its girth rather than just two digits. How much louder would your noises be? What if you didn’t have those cuffs around your ankles? Would you lock them around his hips to keep him from pulling out?

Fuck just the idea had him lapping at your cunt like the dog he was. Not even realizing you were at the edge till you let out a cry and thighs pressed against the sides of his face.

He pulled back, panting. Admiring how you strained against the cuffs to clamp your legs together. Thighs quivering while he could see how the curtain raised and fell with your pants as you came down from the orgasm.

Looking down at that photo of you plastered along the wall, he could only imagine how perfect you look right now.

You felt his fat hand pat your stomach as if to say ‘good job’ before disappearing back to his side of the curtain. The sound of him zipping back up his jeans and redoing his belt was barely audible through the fog in your brain.

It was only after he left that you processed the crumpled receipt left on your belly. Chicken scratch resembling a number on it. ————— This was initially a 141 thing rather than a Simon thing but my smut skills are not high enough for more than one person it seems. Maybe I’ll do a continuation of this with multiple but on a low shelf. Not sure yet.

[thatonegenshinsimp]

Sleepy Cuddles

Just some headcanons of mine that I have for whenever you want to sleep on them

Characters- Alhaitham, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao, Childe

Warning- Slight spoilers for Diluc and Kaeya’s backstories

Notes: I didn’t expect my Capitano oneshot to get so much love! Thank you all!

Part 2

Masterlist

Alhaitham

It takes him a little while to warm up to it, but he loves cuddling with you when he’s about to fall asleep.

He’ll be reading a book while you lay down on his chest, an arm draped over your back as you sleep.

He occasionally looks down to make sure that you’re sleeping peacefully.

Yes, he will throw the book at Kaveh if he comes into the room to say anything. No, it doesn’t matter what it is that Kaveh wants to say, he’s still getting a book thrown at him.

After a while of reading, Alhaitham also gets tired, and decides to call it a night.

He always whispers words of comfort in your ear as you drift off, and plays with your hair once you’ve fallen asleep.

Another habit of his is that he’ll run his fingers through your hair as you sleep, which soothes him almost as much as it does you. It helps with the stress he feels after a long day of work.

Diluc

You have to drag him to bed the first time you want to do this with him.

However, once he finds out how warm and fuzzy he feels inside every time he holds you like this, he’s willing to go to bed with you the moment you ask.

He loves physical touch, it’s comforting to him when he can make sure that you’re there and that you’re really, truly in his arms.

If you run your fingers through his hair while you lay on top of him, he’ll absolutely melt.

It generally takes him longer to fall asleep since he’s so alert all the time, but it’s also because he wants to make sure you’re alseep before he is.

His bird has a perch by the window in case it ever needs to leave the Winery. The window stays slightly cracked open unless it’s Winter and it’s freezing outside.

Then again, the cold is all the more reason to snuggle up to him, isn’t it?

Kaeya

He immediately falls in love with the idea of cuddling with you when you fall asleep, and instantly starts doing so.

Kaeya always holds at least one of your hands, but will also have the unoccupied arm around your waist.

He’s actually very warm for someone so lithe. You’d expect him to be freezing most nights, but it’s usually quite the opposite.

However, he has mean bedhead, and he also moves around a lot in his sleep.

He likes to cuddle after a long work day when he’s absolutely floored because of how much he had to do.

Kaeya also likes to trace little shapes in your back and see if you can guess what they are.

He’s just a romantic like that.

Zhongli

He’s a very good cuddle buddy. He’s very warm, and his voice is what puts you to sleep most of the time.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t treasure the quieter moments between the two of you.

Nine times out of ten, you fall asleep in his lap while he’s reading a book.

The other times are when he’s telling you a story or talking about his day while the two of you lay in bed together.

His love language is physical touch and I will die on this hill.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll make you some tea or read you the book he’s reading.

He’ll also run his fingers through your hair as he’s speaking to try and soothe you further to sleep.

It almost always works.

Xiao

He’s scared to have you sleep on him at first.

Xiao doesn’t want to harm you in any way with his Karmic Debt, but eventually, after you persist for weeks, he obliges, and lets you lay down against him.

He warms up to the idea of you sleeping on him very quickly, and soon enough, he starts asking you to join him when he sleeps.

He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair. If you do it long enough, he’ll fall asleep before you.

Sometimes, whenever his Karmic Debt gets to be a little too much, he’ll lay down on you and hold onto you until it passes and he starts to feel better.

Xiao also likes to massage your back to try and soothe you if you let him, acts of service is his love language.

He cherishes every moment he’s with you, and moments like these are the ones he holds closest to his heart.

Childe

Good luck getting him to stay still. He needs to be doing stuff every waking moment he has.

However, if you ask really nicely, he’ll join you in bed and hold you.

He likes to talk, so get ready to talk even if you’re only half awake.

All jokes aside, he loves physical touch. That and acts of service are his love languages.

Childe is grateful for the times that you take care of him after a particularly rough day of work and fighting, and it shows in the way he holds you so close to him when the two of you rest together.

He likes to rest with you directly on top of him or with your head on his chest, while he has his arms wrapped around you to keep you close.

After all, he cherishes you like family, and the way he holds you reflects that perfectly.

[ifbrd]

A little while ago I saw online someone had made a DND character sheet for Ford Pines. In the ability scores area, they had intelligence as the highest (makes sense), and strength as one of the lowest (fair enough)

But then they had wisdom as second highest and dexterity as second lowest, and I gotta say, I think those two need to be flipped

I mean let’s start with dexterity. Now I’m not an expert on DND by any means so apologies if I am misunderstanding dexterity here, but others have pointed out that Ford spent his entire adulthood chasing after and/or running from paranormal creatures. I guess I just feel like he has to have high dexterity for him to have even survived all those years.

Also this

But wisdom being low is where I feel most strongly.

I wouldn’t be the first to point out that Ford, while highly intelligent, completely lacks common sense.

People have noted that the safety measures for turning the portal on and off should have been reverse, that the portal shouldn’t have been that easy to turn on by accident and yet it required at least two people to turn it off.

He keeps an infinity die in a “cheap plastic case”

He gives a 12 year old a cross bow

He gives another 12 year old a mind control tie and tells him to “use it responsibly”

He takes Dipper out on several missions that were probably too dangerous for him, refer to the magnet gun above, where Dipper, if he didn’t do it right, could have fallen to his death, and Ford also took him on the mission to shoot Bill for …some reason???? Leave the 12 year old at home when you go kill god to save the world from the current apocalypse! Why do I even need to say that??? Also “don’t worry I’ve been down here countless times and all the aliens are dead…probably”

As I recall, “Bill proofing the shack” was his first line of defense and “Bill proof our minds” was “the next best thing” …shouldn’t those be reversed??? You gotta leave the shack at some point????

According to journal 3, Ford was the one who encouraged Stan to take the kids on a road trip RIGHT AFTER BILL PROOFING THE SHACK, which completely defeats the purpose of doing that in the first place.

I’ve pointed this out before, “Mabel will be fine! I watched her become pen pals with the pizza delivery man in the 15 seconds he was at the door!” … Ford…that’s creepy has hell, keep that pizza delivery man away from your niece!”

When weirdmageddon started he wrote in his journal????? And drew a lovely little detailed image?????

See that little greenish sticky note at the top? That’s my little note that says “when did you have time to write this?????” Seriously what. “It’s the end of the world…i gotta draw this and write a little entry on it before I save everyone!!!” It’s the drawing that really gets me. Okay write a note in case someone else has to take over but WHY THE DRAWING

And finally, everyone is holding hands at the Cipher Wheel. Stan is essential and is refusing to join unless Ford thanks him for saving him. Ford reluctantly does so. It’s now clear that Stan is willing to put everyone, Dipper and Mabel included, at risk just because he wants a thank you, so Ford decides this is a really good time to CORRECT STAN’S GRAMMAR

Look I say this with love but,

Ford may be the smartest people in the room but he’s also the biggest dumbass in the room. This man has no wisdom.

[thebunnednun]

If you really love me, let me go PI

Parings: Red Haired Shanks x Vice Admiral! Reader

Prompt:

Hey Mami! Soo I've been thinking about our beloved Shanks x Vice admiral!Reader. Cuz why not? He's so carefree, so it would be nice to see him with someone who is the opposite of him.

Warning: Angst.

For, @orange-milky who gave me the prompt for this story. Always making me flustered with their nicknames for me.

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~~

You were peacefully sleeping, the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that came after an exhausting day of paperwork and drills. The cool breeze from the open window gently rustled the curtains, and all was silent in your little abode atop the plateau that overlooked the town.

Everything was still, quiet—until a sudden, sharp crash from downstairs jolted you awake.

Your eyes snapped open, heart still calm and steady despite the noise. You groaned softly, already reaching for the duel pistols you kept under your pillow, a natural reaction born from years of training as a Vice Admiral in the Navy. The best-case scenario flashed in your mind: Luffy and his friends, showing up unannounced again for some reckless, impromptu visit.

You wouldn’t put it past the kid, not after the last time they used your backyard as a training ground for their latest techniques.

But you weren’t one to take chances. Slipping out of bed as quietly as possible, you padded across the room in your fuzzy bunny slippers, your anchor-shaped earrings gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

A quick glance in the mirror showed your reflection: hair in rollers, a green mud mask you’d forgotten to wash off, and your pajamas—a set featuring Uta's face plastered all over, a playful gift from her before she went to sail with Luffy.

The robe you wrapped around yourself was adorned with Luffy’s jolly roger, a ridiculous but endearing gift from the cutie  himself. You sighed, raising your dual pistols to your side, wondering what kind of chaos you’d be walking into this time.

The hall was silent as you made your way down the stairs, moving like a shadow, every step measured, controlled. You clutched the pistols tightly, ready for anything. As you neared the kitchen, the faint sound of muffled whispers reached your ears—low voices, trying (and failing) to be quiet. You rolled your eyes, already guessing the culprits.

There were too many deep voices to be Luffy’s crew.

When you flicked on the light, the kitchen was suddenly bathed in a warm glow, and the scene before you could only be described as utter madness. Every available surface was covered in food, bottles of rum, and—most tellingly—members of the Red Hair Pirates. The twelve of them were scattered across your kitchen as if they owned the place.

Shanks’ crew, all of them: Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux, Yasopp, Hongo, Limejuice, Bonk Punch, Monster, Building Snake, Gab, Rockstar, and—by some cruel twist of fate—Uta wasn’t there this time. She was still off with her brother.

Yasopp was the first to notice you, though his reaction wasn’t what you expected. The second his gaze fell on you, still standing in the doorway with your pistols in hand and a full-on “I-will-kill-you” expression on your face, he burst into laughter. 

It started as a quiet chuckle but quickly grew louder, causing a ripple effect across the room. One by one, the rest of the crew joined in, their laughter filling the space until it felt like the walls themselves were vibrating with the sound.

Your eye twitched in annoyance. Standing there in your bunny slippers, hair in rollers, Uta PJ’s, green mud mask still smeared across your face, you probably looked more ridiculous than intimidating.

Like a pop princess wicked witch of the west. But you were still a Vice Admiral, and your patience had limits.

“Oh, this is rich,” Yasopp wheezed, doubling over as tears streamed from his eyes. “We’re gonna die—” He cut off with another fit of laughter, but before you could decide whether to shoot him or not, the back door swung open, revealing a familiar mop of red hair.

Shanks strode in, his entrance casual as ever. His trademark grin stretched across his face, a bottle of rum in one hand and a bouquet of wildflowers in the other. His eyes lit up when he saw you, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

“Hello my love!” he said brightly, as though this were a perfectly normal scene to walk into at what had to be three in the morning.

Your response was instinctive. You raised both pistols and fired—ten rapid shots that would’ve made any rookie in the Navy tremble. Shanks, to his credit, dodged every single one of them with that infuriating grace he always seemed to have, weaving between the bullets like it was all just a game.

“Now, now, let’s not start with violence!” Shanks laughed, clearly unfazed by the near-death experience. He took a step forward and offered the flowers toward you. “For you, my little sea monster.”

You huffed, your glare softening just a fraction as you lowered your pistols. Behind him, Benn Beckman gave you an apologetic smile, his hand already reaching into his coat. “We didn’t mean to disturb you. I wrote you a letter ahead of time,” he explained, holding out the envelope, 

“and we tried to be quiet…”

You sighed, arms crossing as you stared at the lot of them, still lounging around your kitchen as though they lived here. “Clearly, you failed.”

They all muttered their apologies, though none of them seemed particularly guilty. Lucky Roux stuffed his mouth with another pastry, while Bonk Punch and Monster shared a conspiratorial glance. Yasopp was still grinning like a fool, clearly amused by your appearance, though he was at least trying to stifle his laughter now.

Benn stepped forward with a steaming cup of tea, which he handed to you with a practiced air of calm. “In case you woke up,” he said gently, and before you could take a sip, Shanks handed you the bottle of rum with a wink.

“Don’t forget the important part.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted both. “You’re all lucky I like you,” you muttered before taking a seat in the barely-used dining room. Pistols stashed into your pockets, the crew, now more relaxed, went back to their conversations, though they kept their volume lower, out of some remaining respect for your sleep.

Shanks slid into the chair beside you, his arm resting lazily on the back of your seat. He didn’t say anything for a while, content to watch you as you stirred a bit of rum into your tea, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands.

After a few quiet moments, he leaned in, his voice dropping into that soft, almost tender tone he used only with you. 

“Come with me for a second?”

You arched a brow but didn’t protest. Shanks stood, grabbing the rum bottle as you followed him out of the room. He led you outside, through the back door and up a hidden staircase to the roof. The air was cool, the stars glittering above you like a sea of diamonds, and from this height, you could see the town below, quiet and peaceful in the night.

Shanks leaned against the railing, his gaze wandering across the horizon. You joined him, your eyes following the lines of the ships docked in the harbor and the soft glow of lanterns lining the streets.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore filling the silence. Then, Shanks let out a low chuckle.

“You’re still mad, huh?”

You snorted softly, taking a sip of your rum-laced tea. “You and your crew have a terrible sense of timing.”

His grin was mischievous, but there was something softer behind his eyes as he looked at you. “Well, I’ve always had a bad habit of showing up unannounced.” He reached over, brushing a thumb against your cheek, his touch light but affectionate. “But you’ve always taken care of us anyway.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Someone has to.”

The stars above stretched endlessly across the night sky, their brightness cutting through the dark canopy like diamonds spilled across velvet. It was your favorite part of living here—how open and vast the heavens always seemed. You found comfort in how steady they remained, unmoved by the chaos of life below. 

Sometimes, as you looked up at the twinkling lights, you wondered what it would be like to sail in the sky itself, drifting from planet to planet like the sea of stars was just another ocean. Luffy, ever the dreamer, always promised to make your wildest fantasies come true, and knowing him, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. 

But what about you? What about your responsibilities?

Shanks' voice pulled you from your thoughts, though you hadn’t caught his words.

"Hey, are you alright lass?" he asked softly, his tone laced with a gentle concern.

You blinked, turning your attention back to him, meeting those familiar, warm eyes that seemed to hold a world of their own. 

"Sorry, no. What did you say?"

He smiled, that easy, carefree grin that never quite matched the weight of his words. "I was asking if you’d join me at sea again."

The idea hung between you like the scent of saltwater that always seemed to cling to him. You opened your mouth, glancing toward the town below, gesturing to the village that stretched out in the distance, its peaceful quietness versus the unpredictability of a pirate’s life. The flicker of lanterns from the homes and streets was like the heartbeat of the place you’d sworn to protect.

But Shanks shook his head, his expression unbothered by your hesitation. "Not for long," he clarified. "Just two weeks. I know you couldn’t stay forever."

His words were calm, non-pressuring, but the temptation lingered like a beckoning wave. You mulled it over, your mind swimming with the responsibilities that weighed you down. You weren’t young anymore, at least not in the way that counted. The youthful impulsiveness of picking up and leaving whenever you felt like it had long passed. 

Now, you had cadets who looked up to you, a village that relied on your protection, and a life you couldn’t simply walk away from. The thought of leaving—even just for a few weeks—and returning to disaster haunted you.

Yet, here stood Shanks, the man who could never be caught, the one who had always captured your heart. He wasn’t crowding you, wasn’t demanding an answer. He was just… there, waiting, like always. He reached into his pocket and passed you a handkerchief. You hadn’t realized you still had remnants of your green face mask smeared across your cheek.

You took the handkerchief with a small, grateful nod, wiping away the last smudge of your mask. Shanks’ grin widened as he watched you, a mischievous glint lighting up his features.

"Lovely as ever," he said with that familiar charm.

You raised an eyebrow, disbelief clear on your face. "Really now?"

"Yes," he said, his tone softening into something more genuine. "Like the first day I saw you. You just keep getting better and better."

His words, while honest and genuine, cut deep. They were too real, too heartfelt for the situation you were both in. It hurt—knowing he meant every word. You let out a heavy sigh, your chest tightening as you voiced what was already understood. 

"That’s what makes this so painful, Shanks. We’ve been dancing around each other for years. How long can we keep playing this game?"

You both fell silent, a weight settling between you like the fog rolling off the sea. The unspoken truth was something everyone knew—from the Celestial Dragons to the mermaids deep in the ocean. Even the sea beasts you used to ride in your younger days knew: You and Shanks were in love. But there were laws to nature that even love couldn’t break. 

A bird and a fish could admire each other, even come to each other’s aid when needed, but they could never be together. One couldn’t fly, and the other couldn’t swim—not where it mattered.

"What a cruel twist of fate this is," you whispered, your voice barely carried by the wind.

Shanks nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Indeed."

The night carried on in its quiet way, the hum of distant waves filling the silence between you. You both sat there, not speaking, just watching each other, as if memorizing the lines of each other’s face.

His presence was like the sea—calm, vast, and eternal. You felt it deep in your bones, the pull toward him that was as strong as the tide, and yet you remained anchored here, to this place, this life.

Eventually, your eyes drifted back up to the sky, the stars glittering down on you like an endless sea of possibilities. The two of you were suspended between worlds, the stars and the ocean, the past and the future, and all you had was this fragile, fleeting moment.

Shanks followed your gaze, his hand brushing against yours in a light, almost accidental touch, as if he too was trying to capture something too precious to hold onto.

For now, that was enough.

There was no real use crying over it. You had both spent countless nights easing the sorrow of your situation in your own ways—Shanks drowning his thoughts at the bottom of another bottle, while you buried yourself in the work that defined you. The understanding he’d given you when you first saw this village in ruins so many years ago, when you decided to stay and rebuild it, still lingered between you. 

It had been a quiet acknowledgment, a silent support. He didn’t fight your decision, didn’t call it betrayal. Instead, he—and the rest of his crew—had simply accepted it, open arms waiting if you ever wanted to come back.

The night you became Vice Admiral was one you still laughed about, remembering their terrible disguises as they snuck into your ceremony. There was Benn Beckman in a comically oversized face mask, (you were all thankful that he wasn’t immediately recognized) Lucky Roux sporting a pair of ridiculous sunglasses, and Yasopp trying to hide his distinct dreads under a crooked wig. 

You’d all spent the evening in a local pub, singing sea shanties and dancing like no one was watching. The memories were a balm to the ache of what you couldn't have—the laughter, the carefree joy.

You smiled faintly now, the sea breeze playing with your hair as the memories came flooding back. Shanks had always been at the heart of it. You teased him mercilessly when you heard he’d taken in a daughter.

"Shanks, raising a kid? Who’s the poor soul responsible for keeping the both of you in line?" you had joked.

It was Benn, obviously. His face had lit up with pride as he spoke of Uta, and before, when he told you about a scrappy young boy named Luffy—the boy he believed would change the world.

And Luffy had. 

You’d come to know him well, hiding him and his crew whenever they came to pass. They always treated you like family, laughing and eating meals around your dining table, as if this was their home away from the seas. You adored Luffy’s brothers too—Ace, with his fiery spirit, and Sabo, with his quiet determination.

They’d both been reckless and had nearly gotten themselves killed more than once, leading to your stern lectures. But they always grinned sheepishly, knowing your scolding came from a place of deep affection.

Even Buggy—oh, Buggy. You picked fights with him like it was second nature, always at each other’s throats with bickering and insults. But despite the chaos, you were one of his oldest friends. The bond between you two ran deeper than either of you cared to admit.

When you’d heard about what he’d done to other villages, you punched him square in the nose. "Get it together, you ass hat," you growled, and he’d just sulked before eventually grumbling an apology.

And then there was Shanks' trust. His absolute faith in you, especially when it came to Uta. Whenever he had dangerous missions, he left her in your care, knowing no harm would come to her under your watch. The girl had become like a daughter to you, and even now, she sailed alongside Luffy, her spirit as free as the wind.

You entertained Mihawk whenever he happened to sail by, sharing quiet conversations and sparring matches under the moonlight. Perona would pop in with her gloomy charm, and you welcomed her with the same warmth you gave all of Luffy’s friends.

You had become a mother of sorts—a matriarch to all these misfit pirates who called the sea home. You were the unofficial wife of the Sea King, Shanks himself. Everyone saw it. The way he looked at you, the way you moved through his world without ever truly leaving yours.

And yet, despite it all, you didn’t rule by each other’s side.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed, and Shanks exhaled slowly beside you. His eyes were distant now, focused on the horizon, but there was a heaviness in his posture that wasn’t there moments ago. The weight of your shared history pressed down on him as much as it did on you. His hand rested loosely on his bottle of rum, fingers tracing the glass absentmindedly. He’d had countless battles, faced impossible odds, but nothing stung quite like this—the unspoken truth that neither of you could deny.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, almost as if the words were too much to bear. "It does kill me, you know," he said, still staring out at the sea. "Not being able to hold you, not waking up with you by my side."

The confession hung between you, thick and painful. Your heart twisted, but you kept your eyes trained on the stars, refusing to let the emotion slip into your voice. "We have our duties," you replied softly. 

"Responsibilities of the same weight, just in different forms."

Your words were practical, almost cold in their truth. But beneath them lay the same yearning, the same ache that Shanks felt. He was right—it killed him. And it killed you too. But you both knew the rules of the game.

A fish couldn’t live in the sky, and a bird couldn’t swim in the depths.

You had your village, your cadets, your rank as Vice Admiral. He had the seas, his crew, the freedom to roam wherever the wind took him.

Your lives ran parallel but never quite intersected.

He shifted beside you, finally looking your way. There was a sadness in his eyes, one he never let anyone else see. "I never wanted to cage you," he murmured.

"But I never wanted to let you go either."

You turned to him then, meeting his gaze head-on. The raw vulnerability in his expression was too much. You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek, a small gesture of comfort in the midst of all this uncertainty.

"I know," you whispered, your voice gentle but firm.

"I know."

For a long moment, you simply held his gaze, letting the sea breeze carry away the tension between you. There was no easy answer, no solution to the impossible situation you found yourselves in. 

The stars twinkled overhead, casting their gentle light over the quiet village. The night was cool, and the sea breeze carried the scent of salt, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the nearby forest. You sat beside Shanks on a grassy knoll, the two of you a striking contrast to the stillness around you. The village, your home, rested in peaceful slumber behind you, its rooftops barely visible in the low light. 

You could hear the distant crash of waves against the shore, and for a brief moment, it was as though the world belonged to just the two of you.

There was a time where you both had talked about marriage. Shanks had brought it up many times over the years, his playful grin turning serious when the conversation lingered too long. You could still feel the warmth of his words, the weight of his unspoken promises, and the quiet desperation behind his eyes each time he spoke about wanting to make you his.

And yet, here you were. Still not married. Still bound by the same chains that had kept you apart for so long. You glanced over at him now, taking in the sight of the man who held your heart so tightly. His red hair, wild as ever, blew in the breeze, and the familiar scar over his eye seemed to catch the light just so.

His eyes, those deep, piercing eyes, held a softness reserved only for you, but there was something darker there too—an unspoken sorrow.

“We could’ve been married by now,” Shanks said, his voice low, cutting through the stillness. His gaze was fixed on the stars, but you knew his thoughts were off somewhere far deeper. “But I couldn’t do that to you. Not when it would ruin your life, your career.”

The words stung, but they were true. Marriage to a pirate, especially one like Shanks, would be a death sentence for your career. You’d lose everything—your rank as Vice Admiral, your home, your people.

You’d be hunted down, imprisoned, forced to leave the people you loved, the people you swore to protect. Your entire life would be torn apart.

Worst of all, they’d use you to lure out Shanks and have him killed.  

And Shanks knew it. He always did.

“I love you too much to put you through that kind of pain,” he continued, his voice soft but resolute. His fingers fidgeted with the bottle of rum beside him, but there was a tension in his posture, a heaviness in his shoulders. He hated this as much as you did—this cruel twist of fate that kept you apart.

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the stars. They twinkled innocently above, indifferent to the turmoil below. “I know,” you said quietly. “But I hate the thought of us being this… couple that can never truly be together. Not for more than a night.”

The thought weighed on you constantly—the idea that you could never have a life together. That you would always be bound by your respective worlds, able to steal moments but never truly share them. You had responsibilities. You had a village to protect, cadets who relied on you, a duty that couldn’t be abandoned. And Shanks had his crew, his mission, his endless journey across the seas.

But there was more to it. You knew Shanks. He was a man of action, a man who followed his heart. And in his heart, he refused to leave this world without being joined with you before God, as he had said countless times. The idea of dying without you as his wife was a torment he didn’t express often, but you knew it haunted him.

“What if something happened to me?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with the weight of unspoken fears. He looked at you now, his eyes full of emotion.

“What if I died? You wouldn’t have any legal right to me. You’d be left with nothing. Unless…” His voice trailed off, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. “Unless the crew managed to pull off some ‘common law marriage’ scheme."

"But we’re more than that.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tightness in your chest. The thought of losing him, of having no claim to him, no right to mourn him as his wife, was unbearable. You were worth more than that. Your love was worth more than that. You weren’t some fleeting romance or a temporary connection.

You were each other’s heart and soul, two people who had shared years of laughter, hardship, and devotion.

And Shanks wanted to make it official. He wanted to make you his woman, his wife, and let the world know that you were his in every sense of the word.

He reached out then, his hand resting gently on yours. His touch was warm, familiar, and it steadied the storm brewing inside you. “I want to make you an honest woman,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I want to stand before God and make you mine, for real. No more games, no more pretending we’re something we’re not.”

You looked down at your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours, and the warmth of his palm grounded you. He had always been your anchor, the one person who could make everything feel right, even when the world seemed against you. But this—this was bigger than anything you could’ve imagined.

“Shanks,” you began, your voice wavering.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his gaze intense as he leaned in closer. “I know. And that’s why I’ve never pushed it. But if there’s a way—if we could find a way—"

"I’d give up everything to have you by my side.”

The raw emotion in his voice, the sheer vulnerability, tore at your heart. This man, this legendary pirate who commanded the seas, who had fought wars and won impossible battles, was here, willing to risk it all for you. And you… you were stuck between two worlds, two impossible choices.

The stars seemed to dim in that moment, as if even they felt the weight of your decision. The village behind you, quiet and peaceful, stood as a reminder of all that you had built, all that you would lose. But beside you sat the man who had claimed your heart long ago, the man who wanted nothing more than to make you his forever.

“What do we do?” you whispered, your voice barely audible against the sound of the waves.

Shanks smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and shook his head. “We figure it out, like we always do.”

And with that, he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the strength in his embrace. You could lose yourself in the warmth of his presence, in the silent promise of the future you both wanted but could never fully grasp.

You pull away from Shanks' embrace slowly, feeling the warmth of his arm linger on your skin as you give him a small squeeze of reassurance. His presence, solid and comforting, is something you’ve known for so long, yet each time you step out of his hold, it feels like a tug on your heart.

With a soft sigh, you turn to face the open sky again, the stars above you glittering like a sea of diamonds.

“I could never ask you to abandon the sea,” you say quietly, breaking the stillness between you, “the same way you never asked me to abandon these people.”

The weight of those words sinks in as you reach up to take the curlers out of your hair. It’s a familiar routine, one you’ve done countless times. Yet tonight, with Shanks by your side, it feels different. There’s a certain tenderness in the air, a shared silence that speaks louder than any words ever could.

His rough, calloused fingers soon join yours, gently separating the pins and pulling each curler free. You let him help, allowing yourself to relish in the intimacy of this quiet moment.

One by one, the curlers come out, leaving your hair feeling lighter, bouncier, freer. Shanks hums softly, an old sea shanty you both know, as he carefully runs his fingers through your strands, styling it the way you like. The way he likes. His touch is surprisingly gentle for someone who’s lived such a rugged life, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his hands in your hair.

There’s a stillness between you, but the energy that passes through his fingertips speaks volumes. You feel it in the way his fingers brush lightly against your scalp, in the unspoken affection he shows through every careful motion. 

And all the while, there’s that look in his eyes again—the one you hate. That mix of longing and resignation, as if he’s silently saying goodbye to something he knows he can never truly keep.

Finally, when he’s satisfied with your hair, he drops his hand, letting it fall to his side, but he doesn’t look away. His gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped.

The stars, the village, the sea—all of it fades into the background, leaving just the two of you suspended in this fragile, bittersweet moment.

You can see the question in his eyes, the same one that’s been lingering between you for years: How much time do we have left? How many more moments like this can we steal before the world inevitably pulls us apart again? 

It’s a question neither of you can answer, but it’s always there, lurking beneath every shared glance, every touch, every word left unsaid.

Below, you can hear the sounds of the crew bustling in your kitchen. Their laughter and chatter filter through the open window, grounding you in the present. Plates clink together as they wash the dishes, their voices teasing and jovial as they talk about what they’ll bring you from the market tomorrow. 

You can almost picture them in your mind—scrubbing your pans with exaggerated care, making a mess of your kitchen, and scribbling down a list of things to restock your pantry. It brings a small smile to your lips, knowing they’re looking out for you in their own way.

The crew’s presence is a comfort, a reminder that you had a family on the seas. A family you’ve built with Shanks and his men. They’d never judged you for staying behind, for choosing a life of responsibility and duty over adventure. They understood you, accepted you, celebrated you, and always welcomed you back with open arms whenever you needed them.

They were your family too, in a way that was different from the villagers you protected.

Shanks, watching your expression soften, finally breaks the silence. “You know they’ll be back tomorrow, right?” he says, his voice low and teasing. “Probably with more supplies than you’ll know what to do with.”

You chuckle softly, breaking the tension as you shake your head. “I can already see it—half the market will be in my kitchen by morning.”

He laughs, a rich sound that rumbles deep in his chest, and it eases some of the ache in your heart.

Shanks’ laughter fades into a quiet hum, the sound trailing off as the two of you sit in the comforting stillness. Together, you glance over your garden, your gaze sweeping over the large pumpkins resting snugly in their beds of soil, their vibrant orange hue a testament to the months of careful tending. 

The last of your harvest is waiting to be gathered—a few stubborn tomatoes clinging to their vines, and some squash ready to be plucked before the first frost. Despite the season's end, your wildflowers still bloom with surprising vitality, their colorful petals swaying gently in the cool evening breeze, defying the inevitable chill creeping in.

Shanks shifts beside you, looking down at your small patch of land as though he’s taking mental notes. He’s never been much of a gardener, but he appreciates the life you've built here. He tilts his head thoughtfully before turning to you with a familiar grin.

“I’ll clean your gutters tomorrow,” he offers with a hint of amusement in his voice, knowing full well you’d never ask him outright.

You smile softly in return, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you," that lingers between you like a secret. But then, silence falls again. The two of you begin to search for excuses to prolong the moment, your eyes wandering over the garden and the stars, avoiding the looming reality of parting.

You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin atop them, making yourself smaller as the cool night air gently settles around your shoulders.

Shanks moves beside you, his hand lifting slightly as though to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but he hesitates. Instead, his fingers shift course, and he cups your cheek with the softest touch. His thumb moves in slow circles over the apple of your cheek, the roughness of his skin a contrast to the tender way he holds you.

It’s such a simple gesture, yet it carries with it a thousand unspoken words, memories, and years of shared longing.

His touch lingers, pulling your gaze upward, and you meet his eyes. For a moment, the world seems to fade away. The years flash before you like a slideshow—quick scenes of laughter, of whispered promises, of stolen moments that felt too fleeting.

You can see it in his eyes too, the weight of time, the shared joy and heartache, all caught in that brief exchange. It overwhelms you, the thought of how much time has passed, how much you’ve both given and lost to the lives you’ve chosen.

Before you can stop yourself, you crawl into his arms, your body moving on instinct as you bury your face against his chest. His arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you close, holding you as though you might disappear at any moment. Shanks doesn’t say a word, and for that, you’re grateful. He understands. 

He always does.

You feel the tightness in your throat, and as your tears begin to gather, you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to keep them at bay. But it’s no use. The warmth of Shanks’ embrace, the quiet hum of the night, the distant sounds of the crew still lingering in the kitchen—it all presses down on you, and a tear slips free, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. You know he feels it, but he doesn’t comment. He just holds you tighter.

Shanks rests his chin atop your head, his breath slow and steady, but you can feel the slight tremble in his arms. He’s fighting his own tears, just like you. The weight of all the years, all the distance, all the longing—it’s too much for either of you to bear alone, but together, in this small stolen moment, it’s almost manageable.

A breeze rustles through the trees, sending a few stray leaves fluttering down into the garden below. The wildflowers sway again, their petals catching the moonlight in a delicate dance. Above, the stars continue to shine, as if oblivious to the heavy silence that hangs between you.

The world continues on, indifferent to your pain, but in Shanks’ arms, it feels like, just for a moment, the two of you are the only ones in it.

Neither of you speaks. You don’t need to. The tears you shed, the way you cling to him, the way he holds you close—all of it says more than words ever could. Neither of you wants to break the fragile moment, both knowing that the weight of your responsibilities keeps you from being together in the way your hearts long for.

Suddenly, with a shift of movement, Shanks stands, taking you with him in a single fluid motion. His arm slides under your bottom, steadying you as he bounces you up to secure your position.

You yelp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck and instinctively hooking your legs around his waist. A laugh bubbles from your lips, despite the lingering sadness, as he effortlessly carries you down from the roof.

The soft crunch of grass beneath his boots fills the quiet air, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore.

Shanks walks for what feels like forever, carrying you down the steep path toward the beach. You keep your eyes closed, resting your head against his shoulder, listening to the rhythm of his steps and the gentle lull of the ocean.

When you finally open your eyes, you see Shanks has a small dinghy set up near the water, a modest lantern flickering at its side. He sets you down gently, taking a step back before bowing dramatically, a roguish smile playing at his lips. 

“My lady, would you do me the honor,” he says in mock formality, “of joining me on the water tonight?”

Your heart flutters, a mix of excitement and hesitation swelling in your chest. The responsible part of you screams that you have work tomorrow, that you could be seen. But your heart—oh, your heart aches to say yes. After all, so little happens here, and no one’s likely keeping watch. You gaze at the man you’ve loved for more than half your life, his eyes shimmering with the moonlight and something deeper.

“How could I refuse such a gracious offer from a fine gentleman like yourself?” you respond playfully, your lips curving into a smile.

Shanks grins and takes your hand, helping you step into the small boat before he pushes off from the shore. The dinghy rocks gently as the ocean cradles it, the sound of water lapping against the hull blending with the night’s peaceful rhythm. Soon, the lantern’s glow is the only thing illuminating the quiet waters as the two of you drift farther from the beach.

The moonlight glistens on the surface of the ocean, catching the peaks of the waves like scattered diamonds. The soft, silvery light bathes the world around you in a dreamlike glow, and for a moment, it feels as though time has slowed, leaving just you, Shanks, and the sea. 

You dip your fingers into the cool water, feeling its gentle caress against your skin. Shanks chuckles softly beside you, warning, “Mind your hands.”

You splash him lightly in response, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. The two of you share a quiet laugh, the tension easing as you lose yourselves in the serenity of the ocean.

'This,' you think, is what you’ve always loved most about sailing—the way the world transforms under the night sky, how the ocean becomes a tranquil mirror reflecting the stars above. It’s a reminder of how vast and beautiful the world is, even in its quiet moments.

Leaning over the side of the boat, you gaze down into the water, marveling at the world below. The fish and sea creatures seem to be sleeping, floating peacefully just beneath the surface. Everything feels so calm, so different from the chaos of the day. The ocean’s gentle lull, the stars twinkling above—it’s all mesmerizing.

But for Shanks, the real beauty isn’t the ocean or the stars—it’s you. He watches as you lose yourself in the wonder of the world around you, your eyes alight with curiosity and joy, your smile so radiant it could rival the sun. 

You don’t even realize it, but to him, you’ve always been the most ethereal sight, the one thing that makes this vast, untamable world feel like home.

The boat drifts gently on the quiet waters, the two of you nestled against each other as the lantern’s soft glow casts a warm circle of light. The ocean hums in the background, the sound of the waves gently slapping against the sides of the dinghy, while overhead, the stars twinkle like tiny beacons of light in the vast night sky.

It feels as though the world beyond the sea doesn’t exist, and for a while, you both simply enjoy the tranquility.

But soon, conversation naturally flows between you and Shanks, the easy back-and-forth of two souls who have shared a lifetime of stories and adventures. Luffy comes up first, his boundless energy and unshakable optimism always making you smile. Then there’s Ace, Uta, Sabo—each memory shared with fondness and a tinge of sadness as you recall the times spent with them, wondering where life will lead them next.

Shanks talks about Buggy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his long-time friend’s antics. “Buggy’s going to find the One Piece before any of us,” you tease, leaning back into Shanks' warmth. “Can’t wait to see the look on your face when he does.”

Shanks grins, shaking his head. “If that clown gets there first, I might just retire early,” he jokes, the humor in his voice laced with the familiarity of an old friendship.

Then, as conversations between you often do, the topic shifts to the grand mystery that’s captivated the world—the One Piece. You tilt your head, watching the moonlight dance over the water, your thoughts racing with ridiculous theories. 

“You know,” you begin, your tone half-serious, “I think the real reason Benn’s wanted dead is because of his past in the Marines.”

Shanks raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on…”

You lean in, voice dropping conspiratorially. “I think Benn knows what the One Piece really is.”

Shanks smirks, amused by your sudden shift into wild theorizing. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You can’t help but grin, the ridiculousness of your idea bubbling up. “It’s a wax strip.”

He blinks, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. “A… wax strip?”

“Yep,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “You see, back in the day, there was this legendary sleepover with Monkey D. Dragon, Gold Roger, and Whitebeard. They tried this beauty regiment, you know, to keep their rugged looks under control. But something went horribly wrong, and now Dragon’s been walking around without eyebrows ever since.”

Shanks stares at you, and you can see the moment the absurdity of your theory sinks in. His eyes widen in disbelief before a bark of laughter escapes him. “Wait— so Dragon lost his eyebrows during a sleepover with Roger?!”

You nod solemnly. “Exactly. And the One Piece is the last remaining proof of that night—a wax strip containing Dragon’s eyebrows. That’s why they had to execute Roger, to keep the secret from getting out!”

Shanks doubles over, his laughter coming in great, booming waves. His whole body shakes with it, and he grips the edge of the boat, trying to steady himself.

“I— I can’t—” he chokes out between gasps for breath. His face is flushed, tears of laughter threatening to spill from his eyes.

You can’t help but join him, your own giggles bubbling up as you watch him lose it completely. You let go of the oars to clutch your stomach, trying not to tip the boat over as the two of you howl with laughter.

“I’m serious!” you manage to get out, though the ridiculousness of your own theory makes it hard to keep your voice steady.

Shanks wheezes, wiping a hand across his face. “Eyebrows… eyebrows… with a wax strip!”

He shakes his head, barely able to breathe as he leans back against the side of the boat, still snickering.

“I swear, only you could come up with something like that.”

The boat sways gently beneath you as you both try to regain control, and you grab the oars, taking over steering the dinghy while Shanks continues to laugh. You glance back at him, shaking your head in mock frustration.

“Well, someone’s gotta steer while you recover from my genius theory.”

Shanks sits up, trying to catch his breath. His eyes are still sparkling with mirth, the solemnity that had clouded them earlier completely wiped away by your absurdity. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at you with a grin that’s both affectionate and teasing. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

You shrug, still chuckling. “Maybe. But I’ve kept you entertained all these years, haven’t I?”

He nods, his laughter finally dying down, but his smile remains. “That you have.” His voice softens, and the mood between you shifts slightly, the laughter giving way to something quieter, more intimate.

Moonlight reflects off the water, the gentle rocking of the boat creating a sense of calm that wraps around you both. As you dip your fingers into the cool water again, feeling the sea’s steady pulse, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The beauty of the night, the ridiculousness of your conversation, and the way Shanks looks at you—everything feels perfect, like the ocean has swallowed up all the heaviness of the world and left you with just this moment.

And though Shanks has stopped laughing, he’s still watching you, his gaze filled with that familiar warmth. The sight of you leaning over the boat, eyes full of wonder as you take in the night sky and the calm waters, never fails to amaze him.

To him, you’re the real treasure in this world, your joy and curiosity shining brighter than any moon or stars.

Soon, it becomes even later, and you both return to your house. The house is still as you and Shanks quietly slip through the front door, the faint scent of saltwater and sea clinging to your clothes.

The soft sound of your slippers barely echoes as you both tiptoe through the rooms, careful not to wake the sleeping crew scattered across your kitchen and dining room. 

Blankets and pillows have been pulled from the guest closet, and you can make out the tangled mess of limbs, chests rising and falling in peaceful slumber. Someone’s snoring lightly, and the soft murmur of sleep-talking drifts through the air as you navigate past them.

You exchange a glance with Shanks, and a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. It feels like sneaking in after a long adventure, the comforting sense of home mingling with the reminder of the fleeting time you have together. His hand brushes yours, a fleeting touch that anchors you in the moment as you both climb the stairs with careful steps, finally making your way to your bedroom.

Once inside, you close the door gently behind you. The familiar scent of your sheets, the worn, cozy blankets, and the soft light filtering through the curtains create an intimate cocoon. Shanks shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the bedpost, and you can’t help but grin at the casual ease of it all.

For a moment, it feels like he’s never left.

“Have you taken any lovers since I last saw you?” you tease, your voice low and playful as you sit on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.

“I keep telling you that it wasn’t like that with Mihawk!” Shanks replied, his voice hushed but carrying a laugh.

“So you say,” you quip, eyes twinkling with mischief. But there’s no jealousy in your words, only the shared understanding that the bond between you both could never be betrayed.

You both giggle, the sound soft and intimate, knowing full well that neither of you would ever stray. Shanks stands, stepping over to your dresser where your anchor earrings sit. He plucks them up and then reaches into his pocket, retrieving a new set of earrings shaped like a ship's helm. Without a word, he places them next to your old ones, the subtle gesture saying more than words ever could. 

A piece of him, left with you.

You crawl back under the covers, the weight of the day catches up with you, the sea breeze still lingering on your skin. Shanks settles beside you, watching you with that ever-present glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

You watch him, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. He turns back to you, and before he can slip under the covers, you reach out, cupping his face with your hands. Your fingers poke and prod at him, squishing his cheeks in playful teasing.

His skin is warm under your touch, rough from years at sea, but familiar. You even pick at his scruff a bit. He squints at you in mock offense, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Go ahead, bite me,” you challenge with a grin, your voice barely above a whisper but playful nonetheless.

Shanks chuckles through his nose, his teeth flashing in the low light as he leans in and gently snaps his jaws at you, catching your finger between his teeth in the softest, most careful bite. He holds it there for a second before kissing it gently, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down your spine.

You pull your hand back and snuggle down into the mattress, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Shanks joins you, his strong arms slipping around you as the two of you settle into the comfort of each other’s presence. His body is warm and familiar, his scent a mix of the ocean and the faint hint of rum.

The silence stretches out, peaceful but heavy with unspoken words. Shanks’ voice breaks it first, quiet and reflective.

“I’ll be gone in the morning.”

You swallow, your throat tightening at the inevitable. “I know,” you whisper, staring at the dark ceiling.

He shifts beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “I’m going to miss you,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur, filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“As will I,” you manage to say, though the words feel too small for the weight of what you feel.

A beat of silence passes before Shanks speaks again, this time his voice softer, more serious. “Can I tell you something?”

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes searching his face in the dim light. “Yes?”

He hesitates for just a moment, and when he speaks, his words are laced with raw emotion.

“I love you.”

The confession makes your heart clench, the quiet sincerity of it hitting you like a wave. You’ve known it, felt it in the way he’s always treated you, but hearing it spoken aloud—especially now, on the edge of another departure—makes part of you want to cry.

“I… I love you too,” you whisper, your voice trembling despite yourself.

Shanks’ hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that escapes before you even realize it’s there. “In case I die tomorrow,” he says softly, his voice barely a breath, “I want you to hear it one more time.”

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air between you, and you can’t help but bury your face against his chest, trying to hold back the sob that threatens to escape. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, grounding you in the present.

You close your eyes, willing the moment to last, even as the heaviness of his impending departure settles over both of you like a storm cloud waiting to burst.

The morning light pours through your window, casting long shadows on the wooden floor. You stir, reaching out to the empty space beside you, and, as expected, find it cold.

Shanks is gone, true to his word. You sigh softly, sitting up in bed, pulling the covers around you for just a moment longer. But then the smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the house, and your curiosity draws you downstairs.

In the kitchen, everything is pristine. The countertops gleam, your pantry is fully restocked, and a neat stack of notes sits on the stove. You pick one up, recognizing Benn’s precise, no-nonsense handwriting.

A brief note, polite as ever, informing you that everything was taken care of: your gutters cleaned, garden weeded, and the trash dutifully taken out. 

You smile at the thoroughness of it all, imagining Shanks probably supervising the entire crew to ensure everything was done right. Your eyes drift to the corner of the room where your favorite scarf used to hang, only to notice it’s missing.

In its place, a vibrant red sash and a neatly wrapped box for your pistols now rest, a clear sign that Shanks had left a part of himself behind once more.

You pick up the red sash and hold it for a moment, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. Then, with a sigh, you begin to get dressed, opting for something simple at first—a starch white blouse that feels cool against your skin, paired with a navy blue pencil skirt.

But as time ticks away, the pressure of duty calls, and you finally surrender to the full uniform. You button up the military jacket with its crisp white fabric, pull on your cap, and lace up your combat boots.

The final touch is the red sash, which you tie snugly around your waist for comfort, a small piece of Shanks’ world blending with your own.

Stepping outside, the morning air feels crisp, the breeze carrying the faint scent of the sea. You make the familiar walk down the hill, your boots crunching over the dirt path, your thoughts scattered between Shanks’ departure and the day ahead. As you near the village, however, you’re met with an unusual commotion. There’s a buzz of excitement in the marketplace, people whispering and pointing toward the docks.

You pick up your pace, weaving through the crowded market, dodging vendors and children playing in the streets. The sound of hurried feet matches the beat of your heart as you make your way to the docks. And then you see it: the unmistakable sight of Admiral Garp’s great ship, its massive sails billowing as it rolls into the harbor.

The towering figure of Garp stands at the helm, his broad shoulders and unmistakable grin visible even from this distance.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. With a quick salute to the other marines at the docks, you leap onto the ship, barely giving the cadets time to register your presence. They jump aside as you dart past them, your eyes fixed on the familiar figure ahead.

Before you can even greet him properly, Garp’s arms are around you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. His laugh is loud and booming, the kind that shakes your entire frame. His massive hand slaps your back with affection, the force almost sending you stumbling. 

“There you are!” Garp beams, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was starting to think I’d have to drag you down from that hill of yours.”

You chuckle breathlessly, your ribs aching wonderfully from the sheer force of his hug. 

“You know I wouldn’t miss you coming into town, old man.”

Before you can say more, you feel a small weight cling to your hip. Looking down, you see a pair of tiny arms wrapped around your waist. A bright pair of curious eyes look up at you, and a grin splits your face as you recognize the small boy holding onto you.

Your heart swells as you see the familiar bright eyes of your seven-year-old son, his small arms wrapping tightly around your waist. His fiery red hair, unmistakably like his father’s, catches the sunlight, creating a soft halo around his cherubic face. His smile mirrors yours, full of joy and innocence. 

Not far behind him is your oldest daughter, walking with that confident stride you’ve seen in yourself for years. She’s fifteen now, her auburn hair rich and vibrant, carefully styled the half braided way you taught her, cascading down her shoulders in waves.

Her face is your mirror image, except for her eyes—either wide, deep pools like the night sky reflected in the ocean or sharp and cunning, with a twinkle of mischievous intent that’s all her own.

Or maybe a repressed part of you. 

“Mom!” your son exclaims, his small hand reaching for yours. You scoop him up in one swift motion, hugging him close to your heart. Your daughter sidles up next to you, her arms crossing playfully as she surveys the scene with that knowing smirk.

“Miss me?” you ask, ruffling your son’s hair and pressing a quick kiss to his temple. He giggles, nodding vigorously before trying to wriggle free.

“Of course, they missed you,” Garp chimes in, a grin on his face as he watches the reunion. “Though I think they enjoy ‘grandpa’ time more than they let on.”

You give Garp a grateful nod. “Thanks again for keeping them busy. I know how much they love running around with you.”

Your daughter laughs, her voice ringing with a mix of sarcasm and sincerity. “Oh yeah, grandpa has the best stories, especially the ones about how he used to throw cannonballs at people.”

You shoot her a look that says behave, but she just winks at you, flipping her auburn hair over her shoulder. Her brother, ever eager to help, adjusts the strap of her large bag that he’s somehow decided to carry for her. She, in turn, holds his much smaller backpack, their roles hilariously reversed as they shuffle beside you.

You three start the walk back home, their small hands in yours, swinging gently as they chatter about their adventures with "grandpa."

Your son’s voice is filled with awe as he recounts how Garp taught him to dodge imaginary cannonballs, while your daughter’s tone is more measured, full of wit as she talks about navigating the ship’s rigging like a pro.

“I could totally be a pirate, you know,” your daughter muses, casting a sidelong glance at you, her auburn hair gleaming in the sun.

“Not like a bad one, just… you know, one of those good ones, like Uncle Luffy.”

You smile knowingly, squeezing her hand. “A pirate, huh? You know your dad wouldn’t be too happy to hear that.”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “He’s not here to say no, is he?”

Your son giggles at that, tugging on your arm as he jumps over a small rock.

"But I’m gonna be a marine! Just like you, Mama. And fight bad guys!"

His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can't help but laugh, thinking how they’ve inherited the best and most chaotic traits from both you and Shanks.

As you reach the house, the familiar creak of the door welcomes you home. Your son immediately kicks off his shoes, darting into the living room while your daughter takes a more measured approach, carefully setting down her bag and tidying up the space as if it’s her own personal domain.

“I’ll get changed,” your daughter calls out, already halfway up the stairs with your son at her heels.

“Don’t take too long,” you respond, your voice trailing after them. You take a moment to breathe, the house suddenly quiet save for the faint sounds of your children settling into their routine.

Your gaze falls on the kitchen counter, where the notes from Shanks' crew are stacked neatly. You pick them up, glancing at the distinct handwriting. These notes are a secret you’ve kept close to your heart, carefully hidden from prying eyes.

Not even Shanks knows about the of half of life you’ve built here. The villagers think you’re married to a man who works overseas. Only a few, like Mihawk and Luffy’s crew, have come close to uncovering the truth.

With the notes safely tucked into your purse, you can’t help but glance around the house—a place where every corner holds a memory of you and the kids. It’s a life filled with quiet joys, secrets woven into the fabric of your everyday life, a delicate balance between worlds.

The thought of Shanks lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it's pushed aside as you focus on your children. They’re your best-kept secret, a legacy of love and strength that connects you to both the sea and the land, as you’ve always been torn between the two.

You watch as your daughter, Mariana, comes bounding down the stairs, her curly auburn hair bouncing with every step. She looks like a flash of sunlight, her bright eyes scanning the room as she carries her silver sandals in hand. You can’t help but smile—she’s always been so full of life, a perfect mix of your stubbornness and her father’s boundless energy. Her bare feet pad softly against the wooden floor, and she glances at you with a mischievous grin.

“Mom, are there any snacks?” she asks, already half-knowing the answer.

You tilt your head toward the back door, giving her a playful look.

"There’s still fruit from the yard."

“Score!” she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over as she practically skips toward the back door, already dreaming of the sweet taste of ripe peaches.

You watch as she swings the screen door open with a flick of her wrist, the sunlight filtering through and casting a golden glow over her figure. Her silhouette looks so much like you at that age, yet there’s something else—something wild and untamed about her that reminds you of the sea. 

It reminds you of him.

You sigh, feeling that familiar weight pressing on your chest. Shanks doesn’t know. He’s never known. And every day, as Mariana grows more curious and your son becomes more aware, the burden of that secret becomes heavier. You’ve managed to avoid the question time and time again, especially with Mariana. 

She’s smart—too smart for her own good—and every so often, her sharp, inquisitive nature leads her to ask about her father. You’ve always found a way to deflect, to change the subject, but with each passing year, it feels like you’re running out of excuses.

Your son, on the other hand, barely asks. He’s content in his little world, more attached to you and the village than Mariana ever has been. But that doesn’t lessen the guilt you feel. The worst part of it all? 

You’ve never told Shanks. Not one word.

He doesn’t know that he has a daughter who shares his vibrant spirit, or a son with his piercing red hair. 

He doesn’t know that the two children running through your home, laughing, playing, and growing up in the safety of this small village, are his.

And how could he?

How could you shatter his world with the truth? He’s worked his whole life to protect the seas, to maintain the balance of power, to keep the chaos at bay. You know what kind of man Shanks is—if he knew, he’d give it all up in a heartbeat to be here. To be with you. To raise them.

And who would be there to keep peace in the seas then?

You loved the village, the safety it provided. It was your sanctuary, a place where you didn’t have to worry about your children being held for ransom or hunted like some sick prize because of who their father is.

But every time you think of that last visit with Shanks, when he stood in your kitchen, laughing with you and stealing glances like he always had, it took everything in you not to crumble. To not bow and confess everything—the sins, the secrets, the life you’ve hidden from him for so long.

A part of you wanted to. You wanted to fall at his feet and tell him the truth, to take his hand and show him the family he didn’t know he had. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"Mom, I'm staying outside!" Mariana’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up, seeing her standing by the back door, already slipping her sandals on.

"Don’t go too far!" you call after her, though you know she’s probably already halfway back to the peach  tree, her favorite spot in the yard. You smile despite the ache in your heart.

Mariana, so full of life, is your pride and joy. She’s quick-witted and cunning, always one step ahead of everyone, including you. It’s the same kind of cleverness you’ve seen in Shanks a thousand times, the way he always seemed to anticipate what was coming before anyone else did.

You wonder how long it’ll be before she pieces it all together—the resemblance, the stories, the red hair her brother shares with the infamous pirate.

As she disappears into the garden, you run a hand over the kitchen counter, absently picking at the sash left by Shanks. Your eyes scan the outside, but your mind is elsewhere. Shanks is out there, somewhere, unaware of the legacy he’s left behind.

The truth lingers in the air, unspoken, but ever-present. And one day, you know, you won’t be able to keep it hidden any longer.

Mariana, your star of the sea, was already off in the yard, likely sitting high in the branches of the peach tree with her sandals discarded in the grass. Her laughter echoed faintly through the open window, blending with the soft rustle of the breeze. 

Inside, Luca, your moon, was making his usual descent—sliding down the banister of the stairs, too lazy to take them step by step. His red hair caught the light from the window as he landed with a thud, standing proudly before you with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“Oh, Luca,” you murmur, shaking your head with affection as he strides over to you, his chest puffed out. “What am I going to do with you?”

Luca, your greatest helper when it came to finding the “best” rocks on the beach. Who was very bit as in awe of the world around you. Who was skittish of thunder but always ready and willing to fight for his sister. His little arms always holding some wild creature that he’s found while exploring. Picking twigs out of his sister's hair while he himself was covered in sand.

The little one who had once dyed his hair blue using paint because he was curious about how it would look. 

If you had to pick him from a line up of other children with a resemblance to Shanks you’d choose this cool little dude that has a heart as big as his father. 

Luca doesn’t answer, only beams up at you with those bright eyes—your eyes—and you scoop him up into your arms despite his whines.

His legs kick in mock protest, but you kiss his round cheeks anyway, peppering his face with affection. His giggles fill the room, that sweet, innocent laughter that tugs at your heart.

“Stop! I’m a man!” he squeals between fits of laughter, trying to wriggle out of your embrace.

“Oh, a man, are you?” you tease, holding him tighter and pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Well, this man is still my baby boy.”

You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his small body against yours, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Just you and your children in the safety of your home, far away from the dangers of the sea. You smooth a hand over Luca’s red hair, wondering—if Shanks could see this, if he could see how much Luca looks like him—would he even need you to say the words?

Raising them without him had been the hardest thing you’d ever done. It felt wrong, every lie, every evasion of the truth, every time you had to cover up why you couldn’t tell him.

You’d sent aid when you couldn’t be there for a fight, feigned illness or some convenient excuse when he’d visited on nights the children were staying in your room.

On those nights, you’d stayed downstairs, telling Shanks it was for old times’ sake, a ‘slumber party’ for the two of you, when in reality, you were protecting the secret that grew harder to contain with each passing day.

You’d felt Benn’s eyes on you, too. How many times had he nearly stumbled upon the bottles, pacifiers, and toys you’d hastily hidden? Maybe he already knew and was keeping your secret, but you’d never asked. The fewer people who knew, the safer your children would be.

Luca’s laughter dies down, and he nuzzles into you, resting his head on your shoulder. The weight of his small form in your arms feels like the weight of the world at times, the burden of secrets and lies pressing down on you. But here, now, in this moment, it’s just you and your son.

You don’t hear the footsteps outside. You don’t hear the soft creak of your front door opening or the steady sound of boots on the wooden floor. You're too wrapped up in Luca, kissing his cheeks again, earning another round of giggles. It’s only when you hear your name being called—familiar, yet unexpected—that your heart skips a beat.

“My love?”

The voice is unmistakable, and your breath catches in your throat as you turn, still holding Luca in your arms. There, standing in the entryway, is Shanks.

The room seems to shrink, and time feels like it slows to a crawl. Shanks stands in the doorway, sunlight framing his figure, his usual carefree smile faltering slightly as his eyes land on you and Luca.

There’s a moment of silence, thick with unspoken words and heavy with the weight of what you’ve hidden for so long. Luca, oblivious to the tension, wriggles in your arms, his small voice breaking through the quiet. 

“Mama, who’s that?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as Shanks’ gaze shifts to Luca, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, he looks at Luca—really looks at him—and you can see the realization starting to dawn on his face. The same red hair, your sweet grin, the spark of life in his eyes.

“y/n…”

End of part 1, second half to be posted 09/09/24

Pppppssssssssssttttttt,

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Edit: Part 2 is up now!!!

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[asterias-record-shop]

BINGO: Mommy kink, Ethan Landry. Prompt 14. Reader is just having their way with Ethan who keeps cumming and keeps getting hard

—𓆩[the perfect virgin]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Sub! Ethan Landry x Dom! Mommy! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.9K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You were originally attracted to Ethan because he looked like a boy who had never been touched by a woman - ever. Your corruption kink was going haywire, and it was the main reason why you pursued him before you got way too attached to his stupid nerdy personality and his utter obliviousness to anything that has to do with sex, so you decide to put him to a… test of sorts.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - kind of mean/teasing reader || mommy kink || cursing & foul language || tit worship || reader wears revealing clothing & makeup || reader could be described as a nympho? || vibrators || virginity loss (Ethan) || attempt at lactation || breast milk production without being pregnant (it can happen, hormones are a thing and can be caused by constant nipple and breast stimulation) || in turn, lactation kink || oral || grinding || riding || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || unprotected sex || multiple positions || maybe slight corruption kink?? || everything is consensual || public teasing ||

Study hall. That’s how everything started.

There were no empty tables, every one being full of a person, so you decided to move deeper — just in case there was one someone missed.

Of course, though, they were all full. All of your friends were either in other classes or working, so there was no point in texting them to come and join you so you wouldn’t be alone at a table with someone who could very well be Ghostface.

Slowly, you walked around the library to find a table you could sit at before you saw the same book for the Psychology course you were taking. You paused, looking from the book to who had it, his brown curls immediately letting you know it was that quiet boy who sat a few rows back from you.

It didn’t take you long to walk towards him, his eyes flickering up for a quick second before looking back down. It made Ethan panic; were you walking towards him?

He inhaled deeply as his eyes flickered down to the heels that stood a few inches from his chair, inhaling deeply when he felt a soft pat to his shoulder. “You’re Ethan, right?”

He tried not to let it be too obvious that his eyes started to trail up your body; your beautiful legs that were on show, your skirt black and to your midthigh and your shirt just perfectly tight around your body. “Uhm… yeah,” he whispers, nodding as you smile down at him. “Yeah, I’m Ethan.”

“I’m Y/N,” you respond, smiling. “Do you mind if I sit down with you?”

“U-Uhm no… no, not at all,” he said, quickly looking around to see if he could grab a seat for you until you grabbed one yourself and put it right next to him. “I-I’m just studying econ right now.”

“Oh, I did econ last year!” You say, smiling as you tapped the book. “I could help if you help me with psych?”

He nodded immediately, staring up at you before you sat down next to him, holding his hand tightly with a smile. “Y-Yeah, I would like that.”

After helping him out like you wanted to, it was onto psychology. You were learning about Sigmund Freud, a sick bastard who had to relate everything to sex, and two of the theories were the Oedipus and Electra Complex.

“Maybe that’s where the daddy and mommy kinks come in,” you joke, giggling. “Playing. Kind of. I think those stem from not the loving of one’s literal birth parent, but the attraction to someone who fulfills the role of sorts.” “What do you mean?” Ethan asked, leaning over to peer at your textbook and to stare at the diagram comparing the two complexes.

“Well, for those kinks, with those who have daddy kinks - whether male or female - they often have some sort of issue with their true parental figure, but not always, or a strong attachment to their father, or the love that they showed. Same with men who have mommy kinks.” You shrugged, fixing your bra strap as you looked over at him. “I don’t think I’d mind a man calling me mommy.”

Ethan could feel his cheeks get hot, looking away as you giggled. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“Well, I think I would make a good mother,” you shrug, but hum. “I just don’t like the thought of having children - now at least - still got my whole life ahead of me! I definitely do like the thought of the… process though.”

He stuttered out the same question, swallowing. He stared at you, mouth going dry as you giggled.

“Are you a virgin, Ethan?”

He clenched his fists, looking away before you held his wrist. “Y-Yeah, I am.”

“Well, I mean someone cumming inside,” you tapped his chin, getting him to look at you as you smiled at him, giggling. “Like… anywhere. I’m not the biggest fan of anal, but it depends on who’s giving it, you know? But I definitely like how it looks when cum like floods out of my cunt, you know what I mean?” You asked him, biting your lip as his cheeks get redder and his eyes try to avoid yours as much as he could. “You don’t, do you? Kind of forgot,” you hummed, letting your hand place on his and draw lines across his veins with your nail. “You don’t look like you’d be a virgin, Ethan.”

He quickly looked at you, confused. “I-I don’t?”

“No,” you say, smiling as your fingers intertwined with his. “You’re too cute to be a virgin, but you seem to be one of those types who don’t realize how much they make a girl’s pussy wet.”

He shivered as your nail slowly dragged up his forearm, a hum leaving your mouth. “D-Do I make your pussy wet?”

You smiled, shifting slightly to move the wet patch of your underwear. “You do. Can I touch you, Ethan?”

“H-Here?” He basically squeaked, but your hand placing on his thigh made him gasp.

“Not like that, silly,” you laughed, but your nail trailed down his inner thigh. “I mean… unless you want me to.”

“Y-You would do that in a library?” He whispered, watching as you tilt your head slightly.

“Why not?” He inhaled sharply as your finger trailed down his growing bulge, a satisfied hum leaving your mouth. “You should take me out.”

“Y-Yes, yes ma’am.”

That was the beginning of your relationship. Four months in, Ethan had a habit of getting way too comfortable laying against your body with your nipple in his mouth as he sucked and groped the other, a vibrator shoved into your cunt that he had licked and prepped all perfectly.

It had basically become a routine ever since you figured out that he actually did have a mommy kink, coming home from school and his nimble hands stripping you after slipping off your jacket and shoes, kissing your ankles and wrists before leading you to your room. If your feet were sore, he would give you a foot rub, and if your back hurt, a massage. He was so, so good for you, how could you not repay him?

You stroked his curls as his hand pulled your tit deeper into his mouth, sucking and biting against your areola making you hiss. “Hey, don’t be too rough, baby. Be nice.”

He hummed, nodding as he pulled away. “S-Sorry… you just taste so good.”

You laughed, stroking his hair with a smile. “Taste, hm? What tastes? There’s nothing with flavor-”

“You,” he interrupts, his tongue flattening against your sensitive but hard bud. “You taste so good.”

You hummed as you pushed your hand down to push the vibrator into the next setting, the second one being something you were basically ignorant to. You inhale sharply as you hold the end, pushing it deeper into you to feel the soft pink silicone vibrate against the perfect spot inside of you, your hips bucking as he groans against your tit.

One of his hands tries to push down your stomach, attempting to touch your pretty clit before you slapped his hand, a whine against your nipple making you groan. “You already had your time with my pussy, baby, pay attention to my tits.”

He whined, pulling away from your swollen nipple, his hands squeezing at your full breasts. “But mommy-”

“Ah,” you interrupted, raising a brow. “What did mommy say, hm? You’re going to be a bad boy and not listen to your mommy, just to get a taste of my pussy? If you’re good, you won’t have to beg for it.”

“O-Okay,” he mumbled, moving onto your other tit as his thumb flicked against the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth, a pleasure filled sigh leaving your lips.

One of your hands stayed in his hair, your head tilted back as the other guided the vibrator deeper into your cunt, hips rolling to try and get the tip against that perfect spot deeper inside of you. His mouth was nice against your tits, but not something that completely gained your attention, desperate to get that spot inside of you abused by the perfect silicone pink vibrator that always fucked you so good.

You felt a jolt go up your back as he groaned against your tit, biting against your nipple, a scream leaving your mouth as his teeth dug into your areola. “E-Ethan!”

He pulled away with the strong tug of your hand, whining loudly. “W-Wait, wait Y/N! Pl-Please, please you taste so good!”

You didn’t notice the pearly white liquid dripping down the side of his mouth, only registering the now discomforting vibrations inside of you. “No, you want to take advantage of what I give you? Hm? I be nice and let you suck on my tits as much as you want and you fucking bite me?!”

He whined, shaking his head as you pulled the vibrator out of your cunt, turning it off. “No! No, you don’t understand-!”

He choked as you pushed the vibrator into his open mouth, watching the creamy white ring envelope his lips as you pushed it down his throat, watching as he obediently sucked on it like you wanted him to. “You just like sucking on shit with me on it, don’t you? If I had another man fuck me, would you be desperate to suck his cock baby?”

He whined, shaking his head around the vibrator had been inside of you, soaked and covered in your arousal and cum. You pulled it out of his mouth to hear him whine even louder, his head shaking. “No, no! Mommy, mommy you promised that if I was good I’d be able to fuck you!”

“But you weren’t good, were you?” You hissed, squeezing his chin as you threw the vibrator to the side, forcing him onto his back. “I wanted to be nice and feel your mouth on my tits, but you wanted to bite me?”

“Pl-Please, you had milk coming out!” He basically begged, his hands cupping your tits and fingers squeezing at your nipples. The sensation makes you scream out, gasping as he rolls the hard, sensitive buds between his fingers, gasping as he pulls them slightly and the white liquid slowly starts to drip out. He groaned, staring up at you in desperation. “Can I please… please suck them, mommy?”

You paused, staring down at the liquid dribbling from your nipples. How the fuck were you lactating right now? There was absolutely no way you were pregnant, there was no other symptoms, you were on birth control-

“Y/N?”

Your eyes meet his as he smiles, sitting up.

“Just because you're lactating, doesn’t mean you’re pregnant. It can be caused by constant stimulation to the nipple and breast.”

You paused, holding his shoulders as he slowly ducked down to delicately lick the translucent, white tinted liquid. “Did you... look that up?”

“Well, yeah,” he laughed, shrugging. “I could tell that it kind of bothered you whenever I stopped, and they were getting heavier and you said that they were sore, so I looked it up to see if me sucking on them was doing anything. That’s why I just gave them massages for a while.”

You stared down at him, confused. “I thought you just liked squeezing my tits.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “As much as I do like that, I care about your well-being more.”

You could feel your heart swell, a smile on your lips as you leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. “You’ve been doing so good, baby, I think you deserve a treat for looking out for your mommy.”

He groaned as you leaned down, pressing another kiss to his lips, his mouth desperately following yours as you pulled away. “Wh-What do you mean by a treat?”

“Anything you want, baby,” you say, giggling. “You just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“Can… can I fuck you?” He whispered desperately, inhaling sharply as you hummed, nodding.

“How do you want me, honey?”

“L-Lay back for me,” he whispered, nodding. “Please.”

You smiled as you slowly got off, laying on your back with a languid stretch as he quickly straddled your waist after slipping off his clothes. He lifted himself up, pumping his cock as you tilted your head slightly, desperate to look at his way too pretty cock. It wasn’t the thickest in girth, but his length and the slight upwards curve from how fucking hard he was with the picturesque dribble of cum sliding out of his tip.

He groaned as he slowly slid his tip up and down your slit, jaw falling as he tilted his head back with even the slightest push into you. His fist nightly to the thought of you had nothing on the warmth of your cunt, how fucking soaked you were, and fuck you couldn’t have been tighter. He had to hold himself back from cumming just from this, a shaky groan falling from his mouth as your hands slowly trail up his chest, his perfect milky skin making you groan.

He cursed, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips, a whine falling from his mouth as you rolled your hips into his. “You ever going to start moving?”

He groaned, head tilting back as he desperately tried to control the sporadic bucks of his hips. “Y-You feel… you feel too good. F-Fuck, fuck, I can’t move without cumming,” he whispered, his voice breathy as you tried to hold back from moving your hips on your own. “Pl-Please, just let me… let me stay here for a minute, n-need to feel you.”

You held back a pout, nodding reluctantly. “Not too long, baby, before I give myself pleasure.”

Ethan groaned as he leaned down, desperately kissing at your neck as his hands groped your tits, his thumbs finding your nipples and sliding over them firmly. “N-No, no, I’ll still… I’ll still give you pleasure, mommy, that’s what I’m here for. To give you pleasure.”

“Well, don’t just give it to me on my tits, my love.”

As much as you did love him sucking and licking at your nipples, desperately drinking at the milk that was a production of constant stimulation, a sigh leaving your mouth at the same feeling filled your body like it had the past few weeks. It felt good, a weight of some sort being lifted from your swollen tits at the milk being sucked out, but with his cock this deep inside of you, how could you not want it?

You shifted your hips, smiling when you heard the whine fall from his lips, purposely clenching your cunt around his cock. He gasped against your tit, groaning loudly as you pushed your hips off the bed, rolling your hips against his to get his cock deeper inside of you, his hips bucking against yours seemingly on accident.

You gasped as his teeth dug into your nipple once again, whining loudly as his hips started to move faster, more collected. You certainly didn’t expect him to be this good at fucking right off the bat, his shaft rubbing along your walls as one of his hands push down between the two of you, smearing your wetness along your slit and rubbing at your clit.

You moaned loudly, gasping as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his back arched as he attempted to continue thrusting into you as he sucked on your tits, his thrusts getting rougher as your nails dragged down his back. He pulled away from your tit with a deep inhale, a shaky moan leaving your mouth as the white liquid dribbled down his chin.

“A-Am I doing good, mommy?” The name makes your walls clamp down on his cock, a whine leaving your mouth as his hips stutter, your cunt used to the steady and rough pace of his thrusts being affected by the slight falter. “I-Is that a yes? Y-You clench when I call you mommy, you really like it, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes!” You yelled out, gasping as his tip kissed your cervix, grazing that one spot that made your eyes roll back. Your mouth fell open, moaning wantonly as his hands held your tits to keep some sort of steadiness to his actions.

His mind was cloudy and hazy, body hot in desperation to just fuck you. He had been waiting desperately until he got to this point, thinking of you every time he pumped his cock, hating your teasing when you forced him to watch you get yourself off with that pretty pink vibrator that you shoved down his throat earlier. Fuck, he was jealous of a fucking sex toy.

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this, mommy? Do you want me to be rougher, softer? J-Just tell me, fu-fuck, just tell me what to do.” Ethan whined, his face moving to press against your neck to get into more of a comfortable position, your cunt clenching around him once again making him groan. “J-Just tell me!”

“D-Don’t stop,” you cover your mouth, whimpering as your cheeks turned red in embarrassment; a fucking virgin has you this fucked out? A virgin is making you feel this good? “J-Just don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop!”

He groaned loudly, slamming into you as his fingers squeezed your clit firmly, taking pleasure in the way your hips bucked and your walls convulsed around his length, his vision going white as he came inside of you. You gasped, just the feeling of those hot ropes of cum squirting into you making you scream out, desperately trying to get that perfect thrust to hit your g-spot, the sharp thrust of his hips successfully making you come undone and cum all over his cock.

You could feel his cock twitching, still not softening. You had never been with a virgin before, so you assumed that he probably just needed a few more thrusts to successfully go soft, but with the lazy rolls of his hips, he was still fucking hard.

Slowly, you patted his chest, inhaling deeply. “Can I ride you, baby?”

He inhaled sharply, nodding as you pushed against his chest, inhaling sharply as you sat on his cock. You whined, his length still incredibly hard as he shifted himself, slipping a pillow underneath his hips to help push his cock into you at a new angle. You could feel every bulging vein on his shaft, his perfect arched cock pushing into you, desperately bouncing on his cock to get it as deep inside of you as you could.

Your nails dug into his chest, your head lulling back when you felt his tip hit that perfect spot inside of you, the knot inside of your stomach weak from your first orgasm. You could feel it being teased by his tip, each bounce making his head hit that perfect spot inside of you, loud groans falling from your mouth as he held your hips.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” He groaned, head tilting back as he accidentally bucked his hips, your nails digging into his chest as your eyes rolled back, supporting yourself to stay sitting up as you screamed out. “F-Fuck, fuck, don’t stop mommy, please.”

You could feel his cock continue to twitch inside of your cunt, groaning loudly as more cum flooded into you, your thighs shaking as you lifted yourself up, keeping his tip inside of you before releasing your weight again and sinking down onto his cock. He groaned loudly, tears pricking his eyes as he squeezed your hips. You were not going to let a fucking virgin outlast you.

“Y-You sure you’re a virgin, Ethan?” You whimper, a laugh falling from his mouth as you reach toward his face to wipe the tears falling from his cheeks. “Fucking hell, Ethan! We've been at it for hours, how are you still hard?!"

He was definitely a virgin if he was crying after two releases, but he definitely couldn’t be a virgin if he was still hard.

He laughed as he rolled his hips upward, groaning without holding back from his thrusts upward into you, your hands on his shoulders and your nails digging into his shoulders to stabilize yourself. You weren’t going to let yourself fly forward like you were tired, because as much as you were tired, you weren’t going to let him see that.

“Y-Yes, yes mommy, am I doing good for you? F-Fuck, I love it when you use me, mommy, I love it when you fucking use me for your own pleasure!” He groaned out, your walls tight around his shaft as he slammed his hips upward, desperately trying to chase his next release.

As much as you wanted to stay sitting up, put on that strong front, you couldn’t. You flew forward, groaning as your tried to hold yourself up above him, his mouth ducking to suck on your tits once again. The added stimulation made you scream out, eyes rolling back as another mind blurring orgasm resonated in your body, tummy convulsing as your walls clamped down on his cock.

Your nails dug into the sheets, gripping the silk fabric between your fingers as his teeth teasingly dragged against your nipple, his hands holding your hips as he thrusted into your abused cunt just a few more times, another orgasm rippling through his body as he came again, whimpering against your shoulder as you panted above him.

“You can’t be a virgin.”

He laughed as he pushed you onto your back, humming. “Can I keep going?”

You inhaled sharply, pausing when his cock continued to stay hard inside of you, but you nodded. You wanted someone who could keep up with you, who cared if it was a virgin? “Yes baby, you can.”

He groaned, leaning down for a firm kiss to your lips. “Thank you mommy, thank you so much. I love you, I’ll make you feel so fucking good, I promise.”

You groaned as he slowly flipped you onto your side, his hands pushing against your tits as he kneeled in front of your cunt and over one of your thighs, pulling your other leg over his shoulder.

Fuck, he truly was the perfect virgin.

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