#she’s lived an amazing life in my head
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sakorb · 5 months ago
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so..hana! spectacular
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shoot-i-messed-up · 2 months ago
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the one het ship I genuinely really enjoy in EAH is Cerise/Daring. Like I’m sorry, I know Cerise gives off queer vibes, but the cool jock girl x loser pathetic boy got me….
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boyswanna-be-her · 2 years ago
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There's like a lot of backstory I don't feel like explaining but atm I'm losing where I live bc my mom doesn't like my life choices (volunteering, dating bfr), and the only way I can afford to move out is to rent a room with a stranger (provided i find someone with no pets who will let me have my cat, bc Mimi is aggressive with other pets sadly) or find a place to rent with BFR. And like, it's objectively stupid to move in with each other this fast but my options are such shit right now that it's looking like I'm willing to make this objectively stupid decision! Thanks mom! Really great work valuing my choices and helping me stay in the safe, stable housing i've had for the past FIVE years. Christ.
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cleolinda · 9 months ago
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AITA for banning my husband and father in law from the delivery room due to their intensely stressful/creepy behavior during my pregnancy?
There’s a famous Reddit post from 2020 where a pregnant woman wrote that her husband and father-in-law were a little too comfortable with their certainty that she was absolutely going to die in childbirth just like her husband’s late mother. It was to the point where her FIL was insisting that she go ahead and put all her clothes into storage, because she was obviously going to die in the hospital and it would save them the grief of packing up her things afterwards. Like. It was WILD.
When I tell my husband [that she feels suspicious of her FIL], he calls me paranoid, but I feel like my FIL WANTS me to die; his whole life identity for the past 35 years has been “amazing single dad” (never dated or had close friends or even hobbies really), and it seems like he’s looking forward to being able to guide my husband through what he went through. At this point, I’d honestly be happy to never see my FIL again, and I certainly don’t want him in the delivery room, especially since he told me he was “putting [his] foot down” about me not being “allowed” to have an epidural…. My husband, in addition to backing his dad on everything, acts like my due date is my death date, and has completely pulled away from me.
The commenters (and me, honestly) were convinced that the husband and FIL were either going to kill her outright to fulfill this expectation, or just make decisions about her care that might conveniently let her die.
And then she never posted again.
Over the last four years, people have frequently mentioned that post, always leading to a thread of people saying, “Oh god, I still worry about that woman.” I did too. It became one of those famous unresolved posts that people always wondered about.
Until yesterday, when someone on r/BestOfRedditorUpdates dug up a 2022 update she had posted on a different account:
TLDR; I had a beautiful and healthy baby girl, and I divorced my ex-husband. I lived, obviously.
She writes that she put her foot down about having her own mother in the delivery room rather than her FIL (!), and she WOULD be getting an epidural. Her husband lost his shit. And in his outburst, he let slip--
I admittedly lost my temper, and told him that I wasn’t going to die- it wasn’t my fault his father’s trauma wormed it’s way into his head, and that he needed to fix it without taking it out on me. He yelled at me that he didn’t need therapy. That caught me a little off guard; I asked him why he went to his therapist and was given advice about my death if he felt he didn’t need it. His expression gave it away, and he caved not long after. It turns out there was no therapist. It was just his dad. During the times he was supposed to be at therapy, he was with his dad. I’m still fuming.
And that was when she got the fuck out.
I’ll wrap this up- I’ve got an adorable little toddler tugging at my leg atm. I’m alive, I’m happy, and I’ve got my baby in my arms. Life is good.
I truly never thought we'd see a resolution to this, and I feel like there's probably a good number of people who remember it, so I thought you might want to know.
ETA: Brilliantly, I put the link in at the top; here it is again for convenience.
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yuukiiqwq · 11 months ago
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Satoru is the type to get jealous over little things because he just wants you all to himself. Right now, he's sulking on the couch. Why, you may ask? Let's rewind a bit.
When you finally moved into Gojo's house, you got a cat. No, you didn't adopt one. It was Gojo. He came back one day with a cat.
"Toru. Why are you holding a cat?"
"Excuse you! His name is Fluffball!" He huffed. "And starting today, he's living with us!"
You blinked at him. Did he just name the cat Fluffball? What kind of name is Fluffball??
"Satoru Gojo."
He flinched at you, calling him by his full name. His brain instantly went into danger mode and activated his secret weapon.
"He'll keep you company whenever I go on missions!" He said as he gave you the puppy eyes. "And isn't he adorable?"
You bit the bottom of your lip. This was cheating. He knew that you couldn't resist. You don't mind adopting a cat... but out of nowhere? Do you trust yourself with taking care of a pet?
You sigh as you gave in. You couldn't say no. The cat was adorable after all...
"Fine. We can keep him."
His eyes instantly lighted up as he smiled down at the cat in his arms.
"You hear that Fluffball? She said yes!" He spins around with the cat, causing the cat to let out a series of meows.
You shaked your head from his antics. "Stop spinning the poor cat. And we will not be calling him Fluffball."
Thus causing Satoru to whined immediately. After all, in his opinion, Fluffball was a great name!
That was a few weeks ago. Now, back to the present. You ended up adoring the cat. Which is fine and all, but you've been paying attention to the cat more than Gojo lately. Like he's right here next to you, and instead of cuddling him, you're cuddling that cat.
And the name you came up with for the cat? Even worse. You took his nickname and gave it to the cat.
How did he find out? Well, it started with you asking for the cat to come over to you.
"Toru, come here," you called.
Satoru immediately came to your side, but you had a look of confusion, thus causing him to become puzzled himself.
"Satoru, why did you come over?
"You called for me! Obviously, I came to your side as fast as possible!"
You narrowed your eyes at him. "I was not calling for you. I was calling for Toru." You motioned your hand towards the cat that came over. You immediately picked him up and covered him with kisses.
He was absolutely confused, and it wouldn't be the last.
Out of nowhere, all the nicknames you would call him would go straight towards the cat. No, he was no longer Toru. Or Babe. Or Darling. Or Baby. Or love of my life. Or beautiful dashing amazing boyfriend. He was just Satoru.
He regrets ever bringing that cat home. So what did he do? Well... he called Suguru for a favor.
The next day, when you came home calling for the cat, no noise was heard. You searched all throughout the house but didn't find the cat anywhere. Then you heard the front door unlocking and Satoru walking in with the biggest smile.
"Satoru, do you know where Toru is?"
He walked up to you and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.
"Satoru?"
"Well... I invited Suguru over while you were out, and Suguru just fell in love with the cat."
"What?"
"He wanted to bring him to his house for a few days! He said something about how he adores that little thing and wanted to spend a lot, and I mean a lot of time with him!"
You immediately knew something wasn't right. There was no way Suguru would do something like that.
You sternly repeated his name– "Satoru."
You stared him in the eyes, waiting for him to tell you the truth.
"Fineeeeee. I called Suguru for a favor," he whined as he nuzzled against your neck. "You're spending too much time with Fluffball! You're forgetting your amazing boyfriend!
"I am not forgetting you, Satoru. We literally live together. You're insufferable, and like you said, you're my boyfriend. I can't forget you that easily. And his name is not Fluffball."
"Oh, so now you remember your poor lonely boyfriend! Don't lie to me!" He huffed at you. "You're calling that cat by my nicknames! What happened to calling me Toru! Or baby! Or my beautiful dashing amazing boyfriend!"
"I have never called you by that last one in my life," you said as you rolled your eyes at him. "Are you really jealous of a cat, Satoru?"
He leaned into you, putting all his weight on you. He was basically crushing you as he continued his whining.
"So what if I'm jealous! You're not paying any attention to me! I thrive off of attention! Especially yours!"
You chuckled at his response.
"There's nothing to be jealous of Satoru. How can I make up for your horrible suffering?"
You felt the instant regret the second those words left your lips. You see the way his eyes get clouded with lust as you feel one of his hands trail up your thigh.
"Oh, you'll make it up to me, alright," he whispered in your ear. "At the end of this, the only thing you'll be able to think of is me and my cock."
He then pulled you into a hungry and greedy kiss. He kissed you like he had been deprived of you for years. And in his opinion, he has.
You only noticed you're in the bedroom once you felt the soft mattress behind you. You don't recall how he brought you into the bedroom. All you know is that you're in for a very long night because he's not letting you go anytime soon.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago
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well behaved
capt. john price
tags: smut/pwp, married life, wife!reader, husband!price, (house) wife kink, dresses, missionary position & mating press, misogyny, darker themes
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price ran his team tightly. he had to. it was life or death, and the manner in which he ran his team, he saw great success. so it was only natural for price to run his home the same way. while it wasn't like a military task force, it was still ran with set roles and tasks for all members. he was the husband and you the wife.
and being the wife of john price meant tasks steeped in tradition. price wanted a proper woman to be his wife and expected only the best from you.
"don't touch those, john." you smacked price's hand away lightly, "they're for dinner, silly." then leaned over to kiss him on the lips.
"ah, sorry, lovie. couldn't help myself." he replied, "you know how much i love watchin' ya cook dinner. even the carrots." he leaned over and pinched your behind as he watched you continue to cook for a moment longer. his gaze lingered for a moment before he went back to the living room to watch the same.
that was your task, to take care of the home. you cooked price's meals and served it to him. he loved your cooking, to him you cooked like a proper chef and you were all his!
you got the roast out of the oven and asked in your sweet tone, "honey, do you want to eat at the table or in front of the television?"
"table's good, petal." he replied before he got up with a slight huff from the couch and with his beer headed to the table. he watched you serve dinner and when you finally sat down, you had your own plate of dinner. the missus gotta eat too!
price eyes the roast,but then eyed you across the table. in the dress you wore. you often wore dresses and fine jewellery. you had to look like a respectable wife after all! not the slags who called themselves 'barrack bunnies' that mactavish brought him. you were price's good girl.
before you could start your meal, price gestured for you to come to him for a moment. you obeyed and price pulled you onto his lap. he kept a strong arm around you. "my missus made this all for me, huh?" he pulled you a little closer. he got some of the mashed potatoes on the fork and fed it to you.
you replied, "no, you eat!"
"oh, don't worry. if i'm still hungry. i'll just have you." he said as his thick fingers touched your inner thigh. "pretty thing." he cooed as he played with your soft skin as he ate. in the process he fed you parts of his dinner.
price's task of the unit was to work and take care of you. you took care of the home and he made sure you wanted for nothing. if the rock on your finger was anything to go by, you were well taken care of.
"mmm, john. honey."
he chuckled beofre he kissed your cheek, "gotta take care of the wife. can't have an unhappy home." he continued to eat, only pulling his hand away from you when he had to cut the meat with a steak knife.
but even your amazing roast was nothing compared to your sweet cunt. that of course meant that you couldn't even finish cleaning up the dishes before your husband had you hoisted into his arms and headed to the bedroom.
price loved to keep you up. only right for a husband to feel up his wife. he loved his big, calloused hands on your round behind or your soft hips. he groped you as he unzipped your dress once he finally put you down on the bed. he then got you out of your string of pearls. you really did live a fairly charmed life.
your husband continued to strip you free of your clothes and he licked his lips at the sight of you when you were in only your push-up bra. he then got you out of it then felt up your bare breasts. he toyed with your nipples using his thumbs.
"my woman." he said, "nabbed yourself an older man who loved to make a mess of your pretty pussy. your love men who are bigger, hairier and who can fold you in half to ruin your cunt." he eyed you up and down, "i bet she misses me, huh?"
you blushed even more and you ended up splayed out in bed under your husband. he rubbed your hefty cock up against you. you swallowed when you felt the blunt head right up against you.
"my beautiful wife. so perfect for me. from the meals you cook to the cunt that keeps my boys safe. no need to masturbate when i got myself a wife to fuck every night. making me food, keepin' my house clean. you have no need to think too hard when you have a husband to do it for you." he sank into you and he watched your back arch. your cunt tight around him as he started to fuck you.
mrs. price's cunt was heaven on earth.
"mmm, john!" you whined loudly. the blunt head of your husband's cock hit deep inside of you. it felt like he was past your cervix and you knew very well that john price was a womb bruiser.
he continued to move against you, he eyed you as he thrusts. he admired your soft breasts. they moved as price rocked into you. it left him hypnotized. price kept his weight onto you, he kept you pinned to the bed. you were his wife and you'd take every inch he gave you. you whined under him and he admired you. every curve you held. the softness of your body. you were a heavenly, beautiful goddess. price's loving wife.
he bullied his cock inside of you. your burly, string husband who could melt you with the warmth of his love. while your marriage was a little more traditional and a little unconventional but, you felt more loved and adored than with any other man you could ever love. your older, strong husband would always love you. he'd die for you. so it was only fair you kept him satisfied
and that wasn't hard given how obsessed he was with your pretty little cunt. no other way to die than between the legs of his missus. "you're beautiful under me, lovie. you look like heaven under me. takin' me like no one else." he chuckled, "that's my petal, takin' your husband beautifully."
you moaned a little louder as he continued to fuck your soaked cunt. this was everything. price didn't need a woman with a forty hour work week. no, he needed a wife to care for the home. to care for him. you spoiled him with love and he spoiled you with whatever you desired. whatever you craved.
that was what a proper man did for his wife, he made sure you were taken care of. he loved the sight of you as he fucked you. your knees were hiked up and his cock pushed into your further given the new angle. price knew he was a bruiser and he loved it when his pretty little wife's pussy took him. the sweet thing he got to make a mess of every night.
he moved further and laid heavy kisses on you. he couldn't get enough of you. you drove him mad. no wonder he did everything to make sure you were taken care of.
he was addicted to his wife, his little housewife.
"ah, honey." you moaned a little louder, the pleasure was realy working through you. right up to your core. price's heavy thrusts sent shocks through your blood and your achy core yearned for him. he was a good husband. a traditional one, but he loved you and you loved him. you tensed up at the hot feeling in your gut. everything felt alive in your body was you needed him. you relied on your husband, even for things like orgasms.
"ah, please!" you whined loudly. you sounded almost desperate as price fucked you faster. you felt the fire in your belly as he nudged his cock up against you.
price's pace lost focus and the man was relying on instinct to get you both to climax. you felt the immense heat take you over as the older man roughly fucked you. your sweet moans sounded whorish as he made you finish.
"beautiful petal. you know how to drive me crazy." he laugh, a little out of breath as he worked your achy pussy through climax. the stimulation made your mind go blank for a moment. he loved you, he loved your cunt. loved it so much that he didn't last much longer. it was like you had him under a spell. anything you want, you got.
price fucked you through his climax and made sure every drop of him was safe in your gummy soft pussy. he pressed his forehead against yours when he slowed to a stop. he kissed you lazily with a lot of tongue as he pressed his softening cock as deep as i would go. you made the ideal wife for him.
and in return price did anything for his missus <3
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agatharkn3ss · 4 months ago
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Nicky's Rio son too.
I feel there were so many lines that imply this and the finale is starting to make more sense - especially because the dandelion in the trial!
Jen explains that Green Craft™ is about the cycle of all living things - growth and decay in constant flow. So it's not just about dying but being born too.
So it would track that Rio's love for Agatha was so strong that it actually created life - Nicky. However, there would be consequences to this because proper balance had to be maintained somehow. Rio probably even warned Agatha about it, but Agatha always believes she is above the rules so in her head she probably thought she had every right to Nicky (maybe even her "prize" that she alludes to in their final confrontation). This would really add to Rio's hurt - Nicky was her son too. She thought she was giving Agatha a gift of life, but instead Agatha sees her as this cruel "evil" that "gave her nothing". To her Rio is the one who just "took."
It feels like it is also implied by Rio at the start of the episode when she says "This walk with another woman's son on a road that doesn't...". She could be referring to Nicky being her son.
But I think Agatha finally accepts her truth during the final trial when she sees the dandelion seed in her cameo. She even says "Out of Death - life" as she grows it because she finally understands the literal implications of that phrase.
That Dandelion is representation of Nicky. And sure enough, as soon as the flower grows and blossoms, it quickly enters the final stage - when it turns into the seeds that can be scattered by the wind again and continue the cycle of life. Because guess what, "dandelions produce seeds asexually by apomixis, where the seeds are produced without pollination, resulting in offspring that are genetically identical to the parent plant".
When Nicky is born, we could probably assume it was indeed asexual reproduction - Agatha says she didn't use a spell or incantation, but instead he was made from scratch (obviously a clever nod to his name). On one hand it could be read like Agatha is astonished how something this magical could happen without actually using any witchcraft. However, this also feels like a suggestion that maybe she is just amazed at how he could possibly exist. Kathryn Hahn in her recent interview alluded to how the witches didn't need men, babies were just born. So it was Rio's "dandelion seed" that made it happen.
It is the second characteristic of dandelion species is what seals the deal for me - "the offspring being genetically identical to the parent plant". Nicky as the offspring of Death needs bodies to survive in this realm. During his birth Rio says she can offer only time, because she can maintain the balance, as long as Nicky gets his bodies.
That's why she hates Rio and calls her evil - not because of Rio herself, but because of what her "genetics" did to Nicky. Agatha would rather have people believe that she is this evil witch killer that traded her child for the Darkhold, than anyone to know the awful truth that it was Nicky who was the cause of the killings.
In the flashbacks, there are those remarks about how they haven't "eaten for days" and that whenever Nicky was poorly he said he was hungry. Agatha said she couldn't create the food for him (and protect him from what's coming). She could've cooked that goat they had with them if they were really that hungry (btw, I still believe that goat is Senor Scratchy), but that wasn't the "food" that Nicky meant.
And just like Billy, Rio couldn't just take Nicky. He had to "turn himself in". It was his choice not to kill any more witches. On the day Nicky dies, he says "My mother needs me home". I think he is talking about Rio here, since he usually calls Agatha "Mama". This is the moment the decides for himself and goes home to Death.
I feel like this opens the possibility that we will indeed see Nicholas Scratch in the future (and have a role similar to the one in the comics). That maybe even he might not have "died" because he is an offspring of death, so he just exists in some Underworld realm, where he no longer needs bodies to survive. Maybe Agatha might have hoped that by killing more and more witches, she will bring Nicky back to life/this realm?
And the Ballad really was a protection spell she made for him too?
This would also be a more plausible explanation why Agatha went to kiss Rio when Billy asked "Is this how Nicky died?". I feel this was more of an apology to Rio for hating her for Nicky's treatment, because she finally understood why she had to do it?
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darkmatilda · 2 months ago
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𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you find out spencer has never been to new york you decide to do everything you can to make him fall in love with the city that raised you. and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with you too.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: early seasons spencer reid x bau!female reader, reader is kinda tough, description of the case (stalking), spencer is so blind you'll want to kick him, idiots in love
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9k
𝐚/𝐧: this is a request i got from @written-in-the-stars06 ! thank you for this amazing idea <3 i hope it meets your expectations (even if only a little)
"JJ, I need your help."
The blonde woman froze in the doorway.
"Did you kill someone?" she asked after a moment. And though she seemed surprised, her voice had already adjusted to the situation, lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. As if signaling her readiness to help hide a body. A friend in crime is a friend indeed.
Or however it goes. 
If your eyebrows competed in the Olympic high jump, they’d win a gold medal.
"What? How did you even…wait, is that seriously the first thing that crossed your mind when you saw me?" You watched as your friend shrugged. Her posture relaxed slightly, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward at the sight of your expression. "Anyway, never mind. Are you going to let me in, or are we just going to stand here?"
For a moment, she studied you intently before stepping aside. You’d known she would; it was exactly why you’d come to her. You crossed into her apartment with heavy, restless steps, stopping only when you reached the living room—and only then realizing you hadn’t even taken off your coat.
Pressing a hand to your forehead, you turned to face JJ, whose worry was written all over her face.
“Well? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself as you prepared to say the words out loud.
Words that felt absurd.
Words that had invaded your mind, refusing to let go.
Words you couldn’t decide whether to embrace or reject entirely.
“I’m in love.”
Silence filled the room. A soft, disbelieving snort escaped her lips, quickly morphing into loud, unabashed laughter.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“I’m not. Why? Is it really that strange for me to be in love?”
JJ snorted again, shaking her head from side to side.
“No. What’s strange is you storming into my apartment like a hurricane, nervous and… terrified, just to tell me you’re in love. Seriously, I thought something was wrong!”
“Because something is wrong,” you hissed through clenched teeth.
You weren’t angry—not at JJ, not at yourself, not at anyone. It was more… the weight of it all, the unfamiliar feelings that left you overwhelmed, spilling out in sudden bursts of frustration.
Your romantic life up until now had always existed on the fringes of your attention. Present, but without all the…symptoms. The dry throat whenever they were around, the inability to get them out of your head.
It all felt like something out of a sugar-coated entry in a teenager’s pink diary, not the mind of a grown woman.
“I’ll make you some tea,” JJ offered suddenly. The worry that had been etched on her face earlier was completely gone, replaced by genuine amusement at your behavior, visible in the soft smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll tell me everything. But now, take off that coat before you overheat…”
True to her word, fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the couch with steaming mugs of tea in your hands.
While JJ had been in the kitchen preparing it, doubts began to creep in. Was it really a good idea to tell anyone about this? About your…infatuation?
Even though you were friends, the whole thing made you feel a little pathetic. 
“So…” she began after a long moment of silence. “Are you going to say anything?”
You couldn’t find the right words. Instead of answering, you took a big sip of hot tea and winced as it burned your throat.
“Okay,” JJ sighed, setting her mug down on the table and folding her arms across her chest. “If you’re not going to, let me just guess.”
“Since when are you a psychic?”
“Not a psychic. Just someone who spends most of her life around profilers. That should be enough to figure out why my friend is acting so weird about a simple crush.”
“Can we please not call it a crush?”
“Love interest. Better?” You muttered not really but she completely ignored it and continued. “Let’s start with the fact that you came here. To me. Considering how private you are, it must mean you’re totally losing it over this. You seem confused, like you don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure whether they feel the same, so you don’t know what to do. And it doesn’t help that you’ve never had to chase anyone before. You’ve always been the one that guys chased after, not the other way around. And…” she hesitated, taking a breath. “The fact that you seem embarrassed, plus how much you work, leaving no time for dating, leads me to think… it’s probably someone from our team.”
With every sentence that left her lips, your hands tightened more around the mug. When she fell silent, your knuckles turned completely white. Everything she said was true.
"What should I do?" you asked quietly.
"Well, it would definitely be easier for me to advise you if you tell me who it’s about."
Instinctively, you shook your head. You didn’t want to reveal your feelings that much. Surprisingly, you weren’t worried that she would figure it out. After all, it wasn’t that obvious...
"Is it Spencer?"
"Fuck, is it really that obvious?" you blurted out in panic. If she could notice, who else could? The rest of the team? Reid himself?
JJ made a sound somewhere between a cough and a choked laugh.
"Actually, I was just going to randomly list all the options one by one," she said, then let out a short sigh, raising her eyebrows. "You surprised me a little. I mean, it's not that I think you two don’t fit together..."
You knew exactly what she meant. Your specialty at work was kidnappings, often handling negotiations and providing detailed instructions to the families of victims. You had learned to project an aura of calm control, and more often than not, you came across as stiff in the eyes of others. Something that had been pointed out to you multiple times in life, whether in jest or not. Reid, in many ways, was your complete opposite. While you surrounded yourself with a shield of silence due to stress, his mouth never seemed to stop. While you marched forward with apparent indifference, he seemed genuinely interested in everything happening around him, every tiny process on this planet. And maybe that was what fascinated you most about him? Or perhaps it was more about his extraordinary mind, knowing the answer to every question that ever drifted through your thoughts? Or how effortlessly he could make you laugh? Or maybe it was the ease with which you could gently tug at the edge of that serious mask, always settled upon your face, and lift it just enough to let a certain lightness slip inside? To breathe?
"You should just invite him somewhere," JJ snapped you out of your thoughts.
"I tried," you said, wincing slightly at the memory of that failed attempt. Well, not entirely failed...
"Are you talking about how you asked in the office, in front of everyone, if anyone would like to go to the movies with you on Friday, and almost everyone volunteered?" she asked, amused. "That's not how you ask someone out on a date!"
"What else was I supposed to do? Walk up and ask if he wants to go to the movies with me?"
JJ blinked.
"Yes? Exactly like that? I mean, that’s how it usually goes. I don’t know what’s so weird about it for you."
"I’m just not made for this," you blurted out, pressing your lips together. "I can’t stand the thought that he might say no, because maybe he’s not interested in me. Not like I am in him."
"No offense, but you're such a hopeless case," she sighed heavily. "In that case, you need to find out. Invite him somewhere, not necessarily on a date, just a casual hangout. Spend some time together and you'll find out if he likes you."
"What if he doesn't?"
"What if he does?"
After a moment of silence, you managed to smile weakly.
"Maybe you're right," you said, emphasizing the first word. And before saying anything else, you nodded, as if giving yourself courage. "I'll give it a try."
*
Well, you didn’t get a chance to put that plan into motion.
Work didn’t slow down for even a moment, throwing you back onto the jet with your team, deep in discussion about everything uncovered so far regarding the unsub and the victims. Hardly the right time to ask someone on a date.
As usual, the case file commanded your full attention, isolating you from the buzz of conversation around you. You always needed a moment to absorb and analyze the details on your own. The voices of your teammates reached your ears faintly, their words blending into background noise—until one particular sentence jolted your brain awake, cutting through like a baseball slicing the air.
"You’ve never been to New York?" you asked, directing the question to Spencer, seated beside you, shoulder to shoulder.
All eyes turned to him. Startled by the attention, he gave a small shrug and absently picked up the deck of cards from the table, the ones you’d been playing with before the discussion began.
“We’ve never had a case there before,” he admitted simply. 
You closed the folder, and the slight breeze it caused swept a few cards off the table from the game you’d been playing earlier.
“Why am I only now finding out that you’ve never, ever, ever been to New York?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. He furrowed his brows, clearly surprised by your emotional reaction.
“I grew up there,” you added.
“And why am I only now finding out that you grew up in New York?” he mimicked your earlier tone. Rolling your eyes, you tried to swat him with the folder, but he deftly dodged it.
“Seriously though, you never told me,” he said.
“Don’t worry, man,” Morgan chimed in from across the table. “She never told me, either. In fact, I’d bet she never told any of us.”
You raised your hands in a defensive gesture.
“None of you ever asked.”
"Does that bother you?" Reid asked, his gaze fixed on you, intense and unwavering. A strand of his slightly too-long hair had slipped out from behind his ear. You had the sudden urge to reach out, tuck it back where it belonged, away from his line of sight. "That I’ve never been there?"
"Of course not," you assured him with a quick huff of laughter. "You just have a lot—and I mean a lot—to catch up on."
"If only I knew someone who knew the city well," he sighed dramatically. "Someone who, for example, grew up there and kept that fact a secret for as long as we know each other. Someone who could show me around..."
"You’d want me to show you around?" The words escaped your mouth a little too quickly, a little too eagerly. Your mind flashed back to your conversation with JJ, to her suggestion that you should invite him somewhere. You’d been too nervous to ask outright, but this? Showing him around the city was a perfect excuse to spend time together!
You felt like an evil mastermind rubbing your hands together in triumph over a new invention that could turn half of humanity into rubber ducks. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to mask the disproportionate excitement now threatening to take over your face. 
"I mean, if we had the time. Who knows how demanding this case might end up being."
"Right," he admitted. Some flicker of emotion crossed his face—a flash of something unplaceable. Could it have been a disappointment? 
He cleared his throat, a soft, tentative smile tugging at his lips. "But if it turns out we do have time... I’d be very happy if you’d show me a few places."
You couldn’t hold back any longer and allowed yourself a brief smile.
“But just so we’re clear,” you began after a moment, your tone carrying a seriousness that didn’t quite match the expression on your face. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. Just no one ever asked me!”
Spencer let out a small snort at that.
"You know, I think you're the type of person who could go over a decade without revealing your name just because no one bothered to ask..."
“Are you done with discussing your secrets? Could we get back to focusing on the case?” Hotch’s voice suddenly cut in, sharp and calm, as he glanced at the two of you over the top of his file.
In perfect unison, you both turned toward him, sitting straighter than ever. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Reid’s gaze for one more fleeting moment.
He wanted you to show him around.
Of course, that didn’t automatically mean he liked you. But it felt like it brought you a step closer to figuring out if there was even the smallest, most microscopic chance that he might feel the same way.
That hopeful thought was quickly chased by doubts—what if he didn’t?
You knew such thoughts would haunt you, tormenting and humiliating you in the quiet moments you were alone with yourself. So, you resolved not to dwell on them for the duration of your time in New York. Instead, you would focus on one thing —making him fall in love with the city where you’d grown up, the city that still held your heart even years after you’d left.
The discussion about the case had ended, but despite that, you continued to carefully examine the files. Well, not exactly them. On the back of the last page, a blank piece of paper, you started writing with the pen you had pulled out of your jacket pocket all the places you could take Spencer. You drifted through memories, trying to recall those places you had visited with your parents, the ones you had gone to with friends after school, the places you were taken on dates...
You crossed them all out. You doubted a sandwich bar would impress him. You didn’t know how many chances you’d have to go anywhere, so you had to aim for something really special. Maybe something that fit more with his interests. A museum? Or something more characteristic of the neighborhood where you’d be staying. A walk on the Brooklyn Bridge?
You felt someone’s gaze on you. You snapped the folder shut as if you had been caught doing something and saw Morgan staring at you with a slightly mocking smile on his lips.
"If you’re playing a tour guide, maybe you’d like to show me around too?" he asked.
You leaned slightly over the table, your face expressionless.
"I’m sure if you ask Garcia nicely, she’ll find you a guide online. At a good price."
"And here she is. The Ice Queen back in shape. Tell me, how’s it that just fifteen minutes ago you were acting completely differently?"
Amused, he shook his head, leaving you with the unsettling thought that maybe it really was that obvious.
*
“Alright. I’m a serial killer and a rapist. I stalk my victims by placing cameras in their apartment. Where do I hide them to get a good view of everything, but at the same time, make sure they're not noticed?”
"Reid, I’m begging you, never say something like that out loud again."
You and Spencer had been sent to the apartment of one of, unfortunately, many victims. All of them had been attacked in their own homes, with no visible signs of forced entry. That was the first puzzling element of this case. The second were the emails Garcia had found in each of the women’s inboxes. Emails suggesting they had been watched for a long time.
You made my favorite pasta for dinner. You should wear the red dress, sweetheart. Actually, who are you planning to meet?
The very thought of someone watching you in your own home sent a shiver down your spine.
“Apologies,” he muttered. “But I’m not under arrest, am I?”
“Who knows? It’d make for some interesting headlines. Or for the title of a true-crime documentary about you. FBI Agent on a Dark Path of Crime…”
“It’s Doctor.”
“My eternal apologies. Does mistaking your title also come with a sentence?”
“Well, we probably wouldn’t be sharing a cell, but maybe we’d run into each other in the cafeteria a few times.”
"I can't wait." You wandered around the apartment, peeking into every spot that came to mind. Since your back was turned to him, he couldn’t see the corners of your mouth curling upward. “You check the bathroom, alright? I don’t even want to imagine where that creep might have hidden a camera. I’ll be terrified to shower in my own place.”
Spencer gave a mock salute, as if you’d just given him an order. Well, in your tone, even polite requests rarely left room for refusal. But before he disappeared into the small bathroom with green-tiled walls, he paused for a moment, his fingers brushing the doorframe.
“That was a joke, right?” he asked, his voice shifting from light to soft and slightly concerned.
You turned toward him, arms crossed over your chest, not entirely sure what he meant.
“I mean…” he started, briefly scratching his forehead. “I just hope you’re not getting too involved in this case. I mean, you are, but not to the point where… where you’re scared afterward. Of being home alone. Taking a shower or…Does that even make sense?”
"That’s..." you began, trying your hardest not to say that’s sweet. The hint of concern that had flickered across his face, present in the way his eyes lingered on you. The fact that your offhand comment had moved him enough to bring it up at all. “Yeah, that does make sense. You know, considering all these women were my age and lived alone, just like me, it does feel a little personal. But don’t worry, I won’t let it stop me from maintaining proper hygiene.”
You tried to steer the conversation away from the unexpected seriousness, to shake off the weight that had suddenly settled over it. Well, you didn’t quite succeed. Spencer didn’t look particularly convinced—or amused. He gave a slight nod, barely noticeable and likely unconscious.
“I just wanted to make sure. That it’s not getting to you. Not… too much,” he clarified. His words grew tangled again. He dropped his gaze to the doorframe, as if contemplating whether to knock his forehead against it. “I’ll check the bathroom.”
You had spent far too long staring at the door behind which he had disappeared. Only shaking your head helped you force yourself to return to work. The victim's apartment wasn't huge; the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all part of one room. You stopped by the kitchen area, where a large bowl on the counter still contained fresh fruit. Right next to it lay the apartment key, and although you should have been looking for cameras, you hesitantly picked it up. There was no keychain attached to it, nor was it part of a set of several other keys, as people usually did to keep from losing them. A number of disordered conclusions and theories crossed your mind, even though it was just a key, not a significant piece of evidence or something that shouldn't be there. Maybe the apartment's owner had lost the keys not long ago and had had one copied just before her disappearance, which would explain the lack of wear on it.
That lost set might have ended up in the wrong hands. Or it might not have been lost at all, but stolen.
Absentmindedly, you turned it in your hands, your gaze wandering across your surroundings. A very small space, with a real brick wall on one side and a shelf of dishes above the sink. You knew that the camera had to be somewhere in here, after all, one of the emails had referred to a meal cooked by the victim. Eventually, you stopped at a green plant on the shelf, just beside a stack of clean plates. It was artificial, meaning the victim didn't need to water it, which meant it probably hadn't been paid much attention to, and that meant it was a good hiding spot for a hidden camera.
You parted the leaves and took the small black device in your hand.
Instead of calling Spencer, who was still in the bathroom, you tilted your head back and with a sigh, headed toward the balcony doors, feeling a slight ringing in your ears. It was awful. The very thought of being watched in your own apartment, a place where you should feel safest, for an unknown amount of time.
You leaned against the black railing of the small balcony, which was probably there only because of the fire escape stairs running along the entire building. You just needed to breathe in some fresh air, spend literally a minute outside, but as soon as you looked ahead, that minute started turning into minutes.
After you arrived in New York, you immediately got to work on the case; there had been no time for nostalgic sighs over familiar streets.
You tore your gaze away from them only when someone’s silhouette appeared beside you, turned sideways to face you.
“Two cameras in the bathroom,” Spencer announced. As per your earlier request, he didn’t say exactly where they were placed, and after his words, a moment of silence fell.
You tried your hardest to ensure that no grimace passed across your face. You considered it unprofessional, getting too emotionally involved in the investigation, imagining yourself in the victim's place. But apparently, it even happened to the best of them.
“You really value your privacy, don’t you?”
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, stopping yourself from rolling them.
"Are you still dwelling on what I said earlier? I'm fine, Spencer."
"I’m only dwelling on what I’ve noticed a long time ago," he said, ignoring your dismissive response. "Well, and also making sure you’re okay. But what I really mean is that you don’t talk much about yourself. I only just found out today that you grew up here. I’m not saying this in a bad way, I get that you might not want to tell me everything about yourself…"
"It’s not about you," you interrupted him, finally turning so you were fully facing him. You once again took note that the balcony was really small. You realized how close you were standing. The closeness that made honesty a bit more necessary. The closeness that made you swallow more often from the dryness in your throat. You cleared your throat, wanting to clarify your somewhat vague words. "I mean, it’s not like I have a problem telling you about me, it’s just… I don’t know, I’ve always been like this. I never really know what’s worth sharing and what’s not. I’ve always been better at listening to what others have to say."
Reid listened to your words with understanding written on his face. You had the feeling that he had become a little bit lighter. He glanced briefly at the railing, and when he looked back at you, he squinted against the sunlight that was streaming onto the balcony.
"I was a bit worried that your silence was because it tires you how much I can talk," he admitted, his tone betraying a hint of hesitation.
You almost let out a laugh.
"It’s actually quite the opposite, trust me."
With those words, you turned back towards the city, trying to avoid his gaze.
"I like listening to you," you added quietly.
You thought he wouldn't add anything more. That you'd both remain frozen for another prolonged moment on this balcony, with the cameras you'd found tucked into your pockets and the looming return to work on the case. That you'd step back inside the apartment, letting the chill in your cheeks fade along with their faintly rosy hue.
"And I..." he began, nervously shifting his grip on the railing. "I really like talking to you."
You strained your memory, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't recall any other day at work when you'd smiled so many times.
“The rest is probably still in the other victims’ apartments,” you stated cautiously, recalling the locations of those places. Speaking each word slowly helped you build the courage to voice the spontaneous idea that had just come to you. “We’ve found what we were looking for. Hotch hasn’t called us yet, so I guess we’re free. Are you...are you maybe hungry?”
*
Your knees had brushed against each other.
“Sorry,” Spencer muttered immediately, shifting his chair back slightly.
You pretended to be preoccupied with surveying the interior of the café. To be fair, there was a lot to take in. The décor defied categorization, with every wall covered in a different material and painted a different color. One wall was entirely obscured by an antique bookshelf. From what you could tell, the mismatch extended to the furniture; no two chairs were alike. Some were made of different types of wood, others upholstered in leather, and one even spun on a swivel.
In short, the place looked like the kind of room you’d stumble into during a fever dream—where two chubby cats braid your hair while you have a very serious conversation with a purple teapot trying to convince you to take out a loan at its bank. And somehow, none of it feels the least bit strange. In fact, you’d wake up from the dream genuinely considering the loan.
One of your hands rested on your knee, the same one his had accidentally grazed. You tapped your fingers lightly on it, keeping rhythm with the pop song playing faintly in the background. The other hand was tucked beneath your chin in a classic thinker’s pose. Except, instead of contemplating the mysteries of the universe or arriving at profound insights, you were solely focused on one pressing question: Who on earth decided to use such narrow tables? Tables that constantly forced you to be hyper-aware of the risk of touching his leg. Again.
“There used to be a sandwich bar here,” you said, tearing the croissant apart with your fingers. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t even consider that anything could have changed. Sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Spencer assured you. “Actually, I didn’t realize how much I needed coffee until I caught the smell. Did you come here often?”
“All the time,” you admitted briefly.
You noticed him looking at you with a hint of amusement, which made you furrow your brows.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he replied dismissively, turning the cup in his hands. “It’s just…I remembered what we were talking about earlier, and I thought this might be one of those things worth sharing.”
“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes, though there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in the gesture. “I used to come here with my friends literally every Friday. It was cheap and relatively close to our school, and none of us had a driver’s license yet, so we walked everywhere, complaining about sweaty people on the subway. Do you think that piece of information is going to be useful to you in any way? Was it worth sharing?”
“Well, believe it or not, I absolutely do,” he chuckled. “Besides, you never know which piece of information might come in handy someday.”
You summed it up with another roll of your eyes, but a soft smile remained stubbornly on your lips. You were genuinely pleased with yourself for breaking the ice and inviting him somewhere, even if at any moment this brief reprieve could be interrupted by a call from your boss, demanding your immediate return. JJ had been right. All it took was just doing it.
“I promised to show you around a bit, remember?” you asked. Having scored a small victory, you decided to keep the momentum going and suggest taking him to a truly special place.
“The offer hasn’t expired, right?”
“It doesn’t have an expiration date. It just depends on, well, our work. I doubt we’ll be able to visit many places. So I’ve made…” you hesitated, unsure if you should admit to spending two full hours obsessively considering where you could take him and even writing it down in the case files. “I’ve thought it through and picked out a few key ones. Places I think you’ll like. So, whenever we have time, maybe in the evening… though no, some of them might be closed then…”
"Places you think I might like?" Spencer interjected gently. You stopped, surprised, unsure why he focused on that particular part of your sentence. "What about the ones that are important to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." he trailed off, making some vague gesture with his hand. "I was curious about the places you used to visit when you lived here. The ones that meant something to you. Are they on the list, too?"
You didn’t need to physically glance at the list; you had it memorized entirely and knew they weren’t on it. You had chosen the places solely with him in mind—his interests and your desire to impress him. You cleared your throat.
“We don’t have much time,” you gently reminded him. “I wanted to show you the really important places. The highlights of New York or something that would stick in your memory. Not some sandwich bar that, by the way, doesn’t even exist anymore, or a drive-in theater...”
“A drive-in theater?”
“You know, you drive up to a spot and watch a movie being projected. I absolutely loved it, really, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no way we could arrange something like that now.” you explained, your thoughts oddly lingering on the idea of spending time with him in a similar way. "God, I didn’t expect being a tour guide to be this hard. Not only do we barely have time for anything I planned, but my client keeps complaining the whole time..."
"Okay, fine, sorry," he raised his hands in a defensive gesture, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Apologies for wanting to spend time the way you would enjoy. What a jerk I am."
"Exactly, you should be ashamed. I’ll add it to your bill," you teased, taking a sip of your coffee, which you’d completely forgotten about. It had gone cold during your conversation.
"And now, completely seriously," Spencer began again, the sarcastic expression disappearing from his face as he looked at you with genuine interest, those brown eyes steady and curious. "I’ll let you take me anywhere you want. So, what places did you pick?"
You were internally excited to finally tell him about them.
But then, your phone rang.
*
The rest of the day was intense and entirely consumed by the investigation. Unfortunately, you didn’t uncover anything that could genuinely bring you closer to catching the perpetrator. In fact, you didn’t even have a profile yet.
Each of you felt a bit disheartened by the lack of progress. After all, every passing day meant a greater risk that another victim could be harmed in her own home. It was even more unsettling knowing that some woman was likely being stalked at that very moment.
Still, despite the mediocre morale and mounting exhaustion, you managed to summon enough energy and resolve to visit one particular place.
You were just returning from there, walking one behind the other down the narrow hallway of the hotel where you'd been stationed. You could feel Spencer's presence and hear his footsteps just behind you. In your mind, you stubbornly tried to figure out what you should say before you both retreated to your respective rooms.
There was a certain lightness in you, brought on by the release of tension through a pleasant evening, but also a heaviness caused by the weight of your feelings. It had been nice. It had been... wonderful. Yet, it hadn’t brought you any closer to knowing whether he liked you.
Maybe you should talk to JJ again.
You stopped suddenly, hearing Spencer let out a quiet sigh as he almost bumped into your back. You turned on your heel, slowly, feeling a dryness creep into your throat.
Spencer was standing just in front of you, his gaze shifting uncertainly between your face and the floor. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but immediately closed it, lost in thought. You pressed your lips into a thin line, determined to wait for whatever he might want to say.
“Where are you two coming from at this hour?”
The door to the room next to you suddenly swung open, and Morgan’s head poked out, a smirk plastered across his face as he looked at the two of you.
You both exchanged a brief glance before locking your eyes on him. The sudden presence of another person, standing in front of you with his arms crossed and curiosity in his gaze, made it painfully clear how close you had become to each other.
The most awkward thing you could possibly do now was to step away from each other. And, well, that’s exactly what Spencer did.
You didn’t even flinch, glancing briefly at your colleague.
“From the library,” you replied.
It was the truth. In a compromise between places that might interest him and those that were important to you, you had ended up there. And not just any library, but the largest one in the entire district.
As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a warmth spread inside you. The warmth of walking among the shelves, barely catching glimpses of each other’s faces through the surrounding orange light of the lamps fighting to dominate over the engulfing shadows. The warmth of your clumsy attempts to focus on the environment, not on Spencer’s face, which was so mesmerized as he studied the books. His brow slightly furrowed, hair escaping from its place and falling across his face. Eyes fixed on one spot, pupils stretching across the entire surface of his irises, creating two truly hypnotizing points on his face, which you struggled to avoid staring into.
“From the library at night?” Morgan repeated, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “I knew you were a nerd, Reid, but you… I’m really disappointed in you.”
“Oh no, how will I survive this?” you scoffed. You saw Spencer briefly smile as well. “Anyway, goodnight, my dear coworkers. See you tomorrow.”
With those words, you made your way to your room, feeling somewhat like an escapee.
You knew that there were only a few hours of sleep left, and you needed to at least function a bit in the morning, so you immediately headed for the shower, grabbing something to change into on the way. Two things were on your mind. Was Morgan still torturing Spencer with questions in the hallway? And did Spencer enjoy your time together as much as you did?
As you analyzed your interactions with him, you realized there was an awkwardness you hadn’t noticed before. You never realized that awkwardness could be sweet. You’d always seen it as a purely negative feeling, something that caused embarrassment. But it could also make your heart race and cause your breathing to quicken. And dizziness, when you tried to control it all.
You felt like you had regressed to your high school days. You almost wanted to run to your friend and excitedly tell her all about the evening. For a moment, you even considered it, but JJ was probably already asleep.
You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and when you pulled on a tank top and some loose pajama pants, you started gathering the clothes you’d worn earlier that day. As you lifted your pants, something small fell out of the pocket and clinked as it hit the floor.
A single key.
It took you a moment to realize that you must have accidentally taken it from one of the victims' apartments. Back when you discovered the hidden camera in the plant, you must have mindlessly shoved it into your pocket. A nervous pang of anxiety shot through your chest. You shouldn’t have taken anything from that place. Another sharp pang followed quickly after, as the sight in front of your eyes suddenly blurred, and something started to form in your mind.
At first, it was a shy thought. But almost immediately, it became a thought that needed to be discussed. Because it could push the investigation forward.
You rushed into the hallway before even deciding where to go. There, you turned in circles, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t an idea that warranted waking Hotch; honestly, you would’ve felt foolish going to him in the middle of the night with just a flicker of an insight in your head. So you thought of someone else—sharp in the way you needed, incredibly intelligent, and probably still awake, since you had just parted ways a mere fifteen minutes ago.
You knocked on Spencer's door.
“I have a theory,” you announced, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
His face registered surprise at the sight of you at this hour, his hand—still rubbing sleep from his eye—froze in place before dropping to his side. He must’ve just been lying down.
“A theory about what?” he asked, his voice a little rough with sleep.
Quite a pleasant rasp. Wait, no, refocusing…
“About who built the pyramids in Giza,” you huffed, the potential solution to the case accompanied by a little stress, and stress, for you, always came out in the form of a biting sarcasm as soon as you opened your mouth.
You slipped past him, effectively inviting yourself inside. Spencer was too surprised to step aside in time, so you inadvertently brushed against his side. Well, you didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway, for fear that your voices would attract Morgan or anyone else.
“Well, it’s not really a secret, despite what some people like to think,” Spencer started, closing the door behind you and turning uncertainly toward you. His gaze quickly darted to you, sweeping over your body. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to focus. He must’ve been sleepy, and it probably wasn’t coming easily. “The construction of those monumental structures required the labor of many workers…”
“I have a theory about the case.”
You didn’t really think it would need further clarification. Without fully controlling your movements, you collapsed onto his bed, sitting at the edge. Suddenly, the confidence you had felt in the bathroom vanished.
He didn’t sit down, instead standing in front of you, his hands constantly shifting position. At one moment, they were crossed over his chest, and then, after a brief pause, he dropped them back to his sides. His gaze seemed restless too—almost strange. Sometimes it dropped to you, but then quickly changed direction, as though he was trying to find the right exit off a roundabout before giving up and returning to the starting point. That is, back to you. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to wonder what it was about your appearance that so intensely drew his gaze.
"Okay," he said slowly, coughing into his clenched fist to clear the roughness in his voice. "Okay. I guess that's a good thing. What's the theory? Do you need to talk it through?"
“That’s why I came here,” you replied, taking in a little more air than necessary, trying to logically connect the scattered conclusions that had formed in your mind. “Listen, it might turn out that what I’m saying makes absolutely no sense. But it might also turn out that it does have some logic to it. I want you to tell me which of these options you think is true. So... I couldn’t stop thinking about that key in the victim’s apartment, the one we were in. It looked brand new, like it had just been made. At first, I thought maybe she’d lost the old one somewhere. It ended up in the wrong hands. The unsub’s hands. That would explain how he got inside without leaving any signs of forced entry. But that would make sense if there had only been one victim. There were many, though, and it’s impossible for each one of them to have lost their keys recently. Unless they were stolen. Or maybe it was the loss of the keys that led to them becoming victims in the first place.”
The biggest mystery that had come up on your team’s path was how the unsub was even choosing his victims. They were all around the same age, all women, and lived alone. Other than that, they were completely different. They lived in different places, looked nothing alike, had different professions, and were of different races.
“So…” you continued, searching his face for any sign. Any trace of understanding, a hint that he was connecting the dots. Some confirmation. But Spencer just stood there, motionless, looking like he was only half present, his gaze fixed on you.
“I came to what might be...a bit of a bold conclusion. Maybe the unsub works as someone who makes spare keys. People come to him, including women. He picks the ones that fit his preferences, makes himself a copy, and that’s how he gets in to install hidden cameras. And then... well, to…” You paused, noticing his unwavering stare. “What? What are you looking at me like that for? Do you think I’m talking nonsense?”
He looked like he had suddenly snapped out of some daydream. He shook his head, scratching his chin, and taking a step in place, all of these actions flowing together in an incoherent, chaotic manner.
“I don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “It’s... interesting, and…you know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in something other than a formal outfit.”
Your eyebrows shot up. That was the last thing you expected him to say. While he had been fidgeting earlier, now he stood completely still. It was true, you usually dressed quite elegantly, not just for work. But you didn’t know why it seemed to impress him so much.
You didn’t know until you looked down and remembered your top. The one hastily thrown on, with a deep neckline. Seriously, was that really all about it? 
You sighed in disbelief and stood up from the bed.
"Sure," you let out a biting chuckle, though, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, you could feel a tingling sensation creeping under your skin. "Tell a guy about your breakthrough discovery, and he won't even listen, too busy staring at your boobs."
You took two steps toward the door, but Spencer blocked your way, grabbing your forearm.
“Th-that's not what I meant!” he stammered in an unusually high-pitched tone, his wide eyes reflecting panic. Whether from your sudden reaction or the fact that you caught him.
His hand loosened its grip on your arm, just below your elbow, but he didn't let go. The way he held on brought you closer together, and the realization of how near you were, along with his face right in front of yours, stole the breath from your chest. You couldn't help but reflect on how everything so far had made you both close in proximity. First the narrow balcony where your shoulders almost brushed against each other, then the tiny table in the café where your knees kept knocking, even the way you accidentally brushed past him when you entered his room.
But this closeness wasn’t accidental. It was his doing, controlled by him, and, judging by the shock on his face after a quick glance, it seemed to surprise him as well.
He didn’t let go of you.
Instead, he focused his gaze on your face. You kept your head lowered, staring at his fingers gently holding your arm. You could hear him swallow softly before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy again, but this time not from sleep.
"I think your theory makes a lot of sense," he said. "And...it’s given me a lot to think about. It’s probably a man around forty years old. He works as a locksmith, using that job to gain access to his victims’ homes where he installs cameras. He sees these women as objects of his fantasies, and watching them provides him with some sort of fulfillment. His behavior stems from an unfulfilled need for closeness and control, which he can’t find in normal relationships. He’s socially inept, has low self-esteem, and a poor sense of self-worth. He writes to these women, idealizes them, sees them as his chosen ones, living in an alternate reality where he doesn’t see the boundary between fantasy and reality."
There was a moment of silence between you, as you analyzed the profile he had just presented.
"That's...impressive," you confessed slowly, still dazed by the sudden closeness, your gaze stubbornly avoiding his face.
"And that's all..." he began, but then suddenly stopped. The word simply dissolved in a hesitant, trembling way. You heard him take a deep breath. "And that's all while looking at your breast."
You suddenly lifted your head.
Never, not in a million years, did you think you’d find yourself in a situation where you’d hear such words coming from him. Your jaw slightly dropped, and a strange feeling spread through your stomach. You were not only shocked but also, in a way, on the verge of laughter because of the surprise on his face. It was as if he had said it by accident and didn't quite believe it himself. At the same time, something inside you tickled.
You let out a short sigh, sounding almost like a burst of laughter.
Spencer released your forearm, and as your silence dragged on, deep embarrassment began to consume his expression.
"Sorry...I don't know why I said that..."
You interrupted him by raising your hand.
"No," you said briefly, shaking your head slightly. "That was really impressive."
Confused, he studied your face. When you smiled, he hesitantly mirrored it, though he probably didn’t even know why—he was simply mimicking your expression.
Without turning back, you took two slow steps toward the door.
"You’ll have to present that profile to Hotch," you announced, resting your hand on the doorknob. Spencer still hadn’t moved, and his face bore a hard-to-decipher expression—part apology, part embarrassment, and part... something else. A certain spark.
Before stepping out and leaving him in that state, you glanced back at him one last time with a smirk.
"Just do me a favor and don’t mention the circumstances under which it was developed, alright?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself one more smile—this time a genuine one.
"Trust me. I wasn’t planning on it.” 
*
Hotch stared at you for a moment in silence, and the corner of his mouth…twitched?! For the first time since you started working at the BAU, you managed to make your boss smile.
 It would be nice to know why.
The next day, thanks to the conclusions you and Spencer had reached in his room, you finally managed to catch the unsub. Your theory about the locksmith turned out to be correct. And when you realized it was Friday, a certain thought crossed your mind. You just needed to clear it with the boss. Well, actually, you only needed to inform him that you and one other team member wouldn't be on the jet that day. Taking advantage of the upcoming weekend, you decided to extend your stay in New York for one more day.
A day that you could spend however you wanted.
The idea came to you so spontaneously that you hadn’t even discussed it with Spencer yet, but you felt, you hoped, that he wouldn't surprise you by turning it down.
The only thing standing in your way was that mysterious smile on Hotch’s face.
“Is that a problem?” you asked, furrowing your brows.
He just shook his head, returning to his usual expression. Though it seemed slightly softer, or maybe it was just your impression.
“It’s not a problem,” he assured. “Reid actually asked me the same thing about ten minutes ago.”
*
“Just, for the record, don’t mention to anyone what we used the company car for,”
"Do you really think I'd go bragging to the office that we used an unmarked police car just to have a place to watch movies at a drive-in?"
He barely caught the bag of chips you tossed at him.
"Just making sure," you said, climbing into the back of the car.
Well, it was definitely a pastime much more popular in the summer, which is why there weren’t many other vehicles around. And also why you immediately curled up under your cozy blanket, claiming almost all of it for yourself. The only source of light in that peaceful spot was the large screen ahead of you, with the movie beginning. But even in the dim lighting, you could see him tilt his head and slightly pout.
You sighed and shared the blanket with him. Or rather, you moved closer enough that the fabric could cover both of you. You added it to the list of situations where, once again, you found yourselves in circumstances that somehow required physical contact. It made you wonder if, somewhere up there, some force was orchestrating the universe’s chessboard in such a way that these moments seemed to happen more often than not.
Of course, not that it bothered you.
While you were still struggling with the blanket, trying to find the most comfortable position, Spencer told you a little about the awards that Roman Holiday had won.
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you,” he suddenly said.
“I told you, I like listening to you,” you reminded him, turning your face slightly toward his.
Finally, everything was perfect. The blanket wrapped around you in the most comfortable way, you could lean your back against the trunk and your shoulder against his. He was there.
“Yeah, but the movie just started.”
“I’ve seen it,” you announced. Somehow, you couldn’t take your eyes off his profile, even though all you could see was the outline of his jaw and nose, and the barely noticeable glint in his eye. “And I really like it. But just so you know, I didn’t pick it just to... you know.”
“Know what?”
“It’s a romantic comedy.”
He turned toward you, and you saw him flinch slightly, realizing that your gaze had been on him for quite some time. Spencer gave a slight shake of his head, furrowing his brows in confusion. You could have easily brushed it off, accepted that he didn’t understand what you meant. Probably, with anyone else, you would have. But you noticed that the more time you spent with him, the surprisingly more talkative you became. So, you continued without thinking too much about your words.
“What I mean is, I didn’t pick this movie to fit a date. It just so happens that today…”
“Is this a date?” he blurted out.
You stiffened completely, not just because of his question, but because of the genuine surprise in his voice. You wanted to ask, isn’t this a date? but your lips refused to open. Instead, you just stared at him motionless for a moment, hoping he might laugh it off.
After the conversation in his room, after he decided to stay one more day in New York for you, after you both chose to watch the movie just the two of you…Officially, neither of you had called it a date, but you had assumed that deep down, you both saw it that way. Apparently, you were wrong.
"The movie has already started," you muttered, nodding toward the screen. It had begun some time ago, but you had no idea how to change the topic. You had to do it because of the growing sense of embarrassment consuming you from the inside.
 You had told him you thought it was a date. It was like telling him you liked him. Which, in fact, was true, but you didn’t want him to be aware of it, especially since he didn’t feel the same!
“Hey,” he suddenly began, his voice a little strained. You pretended not to hear, staring at the screen. Spencer sighed and leaned forward to block your view of it, forcing you to look at him. His eyes nervously searched your face, you saw him swallow. “Is this a date for you?”
You wanted to push him away for asking the same question again.
"It doesn’t matter," you replied. Your tone was sharp but not aggressive. It was the same tone you used most days at work to make it clear to others that you expected to be treated with respect and that the situation or case you were working on was serious. "If this isn’t a date for you, then it isn’t a date. End of story. Can you move? I can’t see…”
“But I…” he began, not moving an inch. His forehead remained furrowed, and his brows slightly lowered over his eyes—genuine, still somewhat surprised eyes, trying to connect with yours. Finally, under their silent pressure, you gave in and looked at him. Spencer’s expression softened. "I didn't even dare to hope that this was a date!"
Something—some feeling—clung tightly to your shoulders, pulling them both forward, toward him, and backward, against the wall of the trunk.
“You’re only saying that to spare me from feeling awkward. And so we don’t have to spend the next few hours… the next day in an unbearably embarrassing atmosphere,” you stated, genuinely believing those words to be true. “Which I’m probably not making any easier. Maybe we should just forget it…”
 “Do you wish this was a date?” he asked, and you barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you did. You wanted to scream it into his beautiful face. Spencer exhaled loudly. “Because I’d want it to be. I really would.”
You lingered in a moment of suspension, unable to decide whether to believe him. Your job had taught you not to always trust words. Just words.
 “Prove it,” you said softly but firmly.
Deep down, you didn’t know what you expected. And neither did Spencer, standing opposite you. Like you, he didn’t move at all. Only subtle changes flickered across his expression. Another crease formed on his forehead as he tried to decipher what lay behind your words. After a long moment, during which neither of you seemed to breathe, his gaze dropped to your lips. That’s when he understood.
You knew he was going to kiss you. You waited for it, ready to meet him, to gently place your hand on his cheek and feel the warmth of his lips against yours. You waited to sweep away the lingering question mark hanging above you both with one decisive motion, replacing it with a firm period.
Was this a date?
It was a date.
Spencer placed his hand under your chin, holding it close to him. Preventing you from pulling away when he momentarily broke the kiss. You saw the smooth flutter of his eyelashes as he shifted his sparkling gaze from your lips to your eyes.
“Sorry,” he rasped.
You couldn’t help but smile slightly.
“Are you apologizing for kissing me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly.
He shook his head, a fleeting smile appearing on his face as well.
“I’m sorry for sometimes being so stupid,” he replied. “About these things.”
You closed your eyes again, letting out a soft snort of laughter. Suddenly, all of it—this whole dance you had been performing around each other, the panic when you realized you liked him, and the fear that he wouldn’t feel the same—seemed utterly absurd. But that’s just how people are, isn’t it? Looking back at the past with a touch of pity.
"Let’s agree on this. We’re both complete idiots."
Spencer was silent for a moment, lost in thought.
“We were,” he corrected you.
"We aren’t anymore?” you asked.
He answered by placing another kiss on your lips.
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punkshort · 7 months ago
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Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You finally move in with Joel and Sarah.
Warnings: language, fluff (the cheesy hallmark kind), established relationship, reader has a previously explained nickname, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex
WC: 4.8K
Series Masterlist
Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics
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Joel was nervous. He never really got nervous, but that particular day, he was nervous.
Sure, it was a big step in your relationship. Or maybe it was because months ago when he asked your father's permission to marry you, he promised he would wait until you moved in together.
And now, that day had arrived.
Where did the time go? He swore it just flew right on by, time that was filled with memories of dinners, parties, dates and holidays together. He hadn't planned what he would say and he felt woefully unprepared. He hadn't even talked to Sarah about it yet.
Just because today is the day you're moving in doesn't mean today is the day I need to ask, he thought to himself. Still, it was a big step. A big, symbolic gesture on both your ends. One that screamed, I'm in this for the long haul.
"Mornin', babygirl," Joel said sleepily as he entered the kitchen, Sarah already sitting at the table in front of an empty bowl and scrolling quietly on her phone.
"Hey," she responded distractedly. He poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around the room. It would be the last morning in his kitchen that didn't include you, and the thought made warmth bloom in his chest and excitement flicker under his skin.
"Big day," he said, but Sarah only nodded. "Y'know, been meanin' to talk to you 'bout somethin'."
She pulled her gaze up from her phone and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"
He nodded and took a deep breath before sitting across the table from her. He told her it was about you and she sat back in her chair.
"Bucky?"
He nodded, the silly nickname coming from his daughter's lips that only previously came from your immediate family making him smile.
"You know I'm cool with her moving in, we talked about it months ago. I think it's great. She's amazing and we have so much fun-"
"It's not that," he said, cutting her off before he lost his nerve. "One day - and I ain't sayin' today - but one day, I wanna ask her to marry me."
Sarah just continued to stare blankly at him, so he continued.
"I love her so much, babygirl. She means so much to me, 'n so does her family. I can't imagine my life, our life, without her."
"Yeah, duh," she replied, giving him an incredulous look. "Obviously if she's moving in I figured that would be the next step."
He frowned. "You did?"
"Dad," she whined, rolling her eyes. "I'm seventeen now. Soon, I'll be in college. I want you to be happy. I don't want to worry about you being sad and alone when I'm gone."
"Gee, thanks," he scoffed over his mug, and she giggled.
"What I'm saying is, I think it's great. Go for it. She'll totally say yes."
He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah?"
Sarah gave him a deadpan look. "Yes, Dad. She's moving in with you. She's not expecting friendship bracelets."
He smirked and looked down at his coffee. One thing was checked off the list, now he had to think about when and how he would ask you.
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It was a long day.
You hadn't even lived in Texas for a full year yet but you managed to accumulate a lot more shit than you thought. Fortunately, between Joel, Tommy, your dad and Josh, your brother in law, all the furniture was quickly unloaded. The time consuming part was working out the angles in hallways and stairs. Since Joel and Sarah already had more than enough furniture, the two of you decided to put your old couch and television in the basement, an idea which Sarah excitedly jumped on board with.
You could hear the men grunting and talking through different ideas on how to get your couch into the basement all the way from Joel's - your - bedroom upstairs with Sarah.
"I am obsessed with this purse," Sarah sighed, tossing a red leather Michael Kors tote over her shoulder. Prior to living in Texas, you lived in New York City and had created quite the collection of designer clothes and accessories thanks mostly to your ex-fiancé. Since moving, you found very little use for most of it and your style evolved to one that was much more relaxed and comfortable. More you.
"Keep it," you told her as you opened up a box of your bathroom things. She gawked at you while you began to drag the box towards the bathroom, already smiling to yourself as you thought about Joel seeing all the girly face masks and perfumes cluttering his once rather masculine space.
"Are you serious?"
You glanced up at her and shrugged. "Sure. I haven't used it in a year and I have plenty more. It's all yours."
"Oh, my god," she murmured, holding the bag close to her chest. "Thank you!"
You grinned and pulled out bottles of shampoo and conditioner. "Don't mention it."
There was a loud thud that came from the basement and you both froze, waiting to hear panicked calls for help, but after a moment laughter erupted amongst the men and you both exchanged looks of relief.
"I bet Dad that Uncle Tommy would be the one to hurt himself," she told you, crouching to help unpack more of your toiletries.
You laughed and shook your head. "You're probably right."
Glancing at the time, you stood up and weaved your way through the boxes littering the floor to grab your wallet laying on the bed.
"Would you mind calling in a couple pizzas for delivery?" you asked Sarah, handing her your credit card. She nodded and patted down her pants.
"Shoot. I think I left my phone in my room," she said as she headed towards the door. "Ronny's Pizza, right?"
"Yeah, that's good," you called after her before stubbing your toe on a half empty cardboard box. "Shit," you muttered angrily, then squat down to scoop up what was left in the box and get it out of your way.
Wrestling with an armful of socks and bras, you carefully made your way to the dresser and yanked open a drawer. You mistakenly had opened Joel's underwear drawer instead of the one he had emptied for you, but right as you were about to close it, something caught your eye. Was that...? Slowly, you reached forward and nudged a pair of boxers out of the way so you could get a better look.
Your eyes went wide and your heart jumped into your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box nestled between his things. The fingers holding up the pair of underwear began to shake and you nervously swallowed the lump in your throat.
Maybe it was a class ring.
Maybe it was a piece of his mom's jewelry he saved for Sarah.
Or maybe it was a fucking engagement ring.
You heard creaking on the stairs and you quickly dropped the boxers back over the box and slammed the drawer shut. By the time Joel entered the room, you had successfully found your drawer and were halfway done putting your clothes away.
"Hey, darlin'," he murmured, sidling up behind you. He buried his nose in your shoulder and slowly circled his arms around your waist.
"Hey, yourself," you replied, hoping your voice sounded normal and he couldn't feel your heart slamming in your chest. Already got the ring he had said to you drunkenly the night before your sister gave birth. "How are things going down there?" you asked, trying to refocus and get your mind off what you just saw.
Joel breathed in deep and began to sway you both back and forth. "Good. Everythin's all set. Got a nice man cave set up now."
You giggled and closed your drawer before turning around in his arms. "Man cave, huh?"
"That's right," he said softly with a grin. "Gonna be great in 'nother month when football season starts."
"I don't know, I think Sarah was already making plans to have her girlfriends over down there. Might cramp your man cave style," you told him, arms draping loosely around his neck.
"'S'alright, I just give her a hundred bucks and let her borrow the car and then it's all mine," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against your throat. "Be nice to have some privacy down there, too," he added, tilting his head in the other direction so he could give the other side of your neck the same attention.
"Yeah? Privacy for what?" you teased, chin lifting up to give him better access. You felt him chuckle against your skin.
"For anythin' we want," he replied, tearing his mouth away from your shoulder so he could brush his lips gently over yours.
"Mmm, like board games?" you asked, giggling when his lips froze and his face pulled away, giving you a look of disbelief.
"Is that what we're callin' it?"
You nodded and stretched onto your tiptoes so you could kiss him again.
"Okay, the pizza'll be here - oh. Gross," Sarah said when she appeared in the doorway. You pulled away and grinned while Joel looked over his shoulder with a frown.
"Gross?" he repeated, voice laced with disgust. "Seein' me happy is gross?"
Sarah rolled her eyes as she navigated the minefield of boxes in the room to hand you back your credit card. "Is this what it's gonna be like now? You guys sucking face in every room?"
"Hate to tell you, kiddo, but it's always been that way," you told her as you dropped your arms from around Joel's neck to take your card back.
"Pizza?" he questioned excitedly as if he just processed what Sarah said, and you nodded.
"Figured you guys would be hungry."
Joel groaned in delight and wrapped his arms around you once again, making you laugh.
"Alright, gimme a second to leave at least," Sarah said, turning towards the door as quickly as possible, but not before you caught the smile on her face.
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"Hey, can I give you a hand?" Tommy asked as he entered your kitchen. You could hear Josh, your father, Sarah and Joel laughing in the living room with the television on in the background.
"Oh, Tommy, that's so sweet but I got it. You've done so much already today, thank you for your help," you said with a smile as you continued to clean up the pizza. Tommy leaned against the counter and watched you move around his brother's kitchen like you had been there your whole life, and he couldn't help but smile.
"You look right at home already," he told you, making your cheeks warm. You pulled out some foil and shrugged.
"I've stayed over a couple times, what can I say?"
He chuckled and continued to watch you work quietly for a moment.
"Say, what'dya think 'bout you and Joel goin' on a double date with me and Maria?"
"Oh, I would love that!" you exclaimed, meeting his gaze briefly as you moved towards the fridge. "Must be getting serious if you're ready to introduce her to family, huh?"
"Yeah, I think so," Tommy said, shyly looking down at the tile floor. "She's so pretty. Smart, too. And funny. We have such a great time together. I'll tell you, I ain't ever remember feelin' this way 'bout a girl before."
Your jaw hung open in shock after you turned away from the closed fridge. "Tommy! This is... amazing!"
He scratched the back of his neck and grinned. "Yeah, it is," he agreed warmly.
"He botherin' you, baby?" Joel asked as he strolled into the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He shot you a wink right after Tommy gave him the finger.
"I was just telling Tommy we should go on a double date with him and Maria," you said, leaning into the hug he gave you. Tommy gave you a thumbs up behind Joel's back and you smiled over his shoulder, knowing intuitively that his brother would tease him mercilessly if he knew Tommy was the one with the idea instead of you.
"Oh, yeah?" Joel asked, pulling back to look at Tommy. He nodded.
"Yeah, sounds like fun. Maybe grab some drinks down at Mike's. Play some pool."
"Alright. Set it up, can't wait to meet her," Joel told him before squeezing past you to get another beer from the refrigerator.
The men spent another hour or so relaxing in the living room while you and Sarah did the best you could to clear up the remaining boxes in your bedroom. You did rather well, too. By the time everyone was ready to say good night, you only had two boxes left, both of which you stacked and shoved into a corner to deal with the next day.
You were looking forward to collapsing into bed after a long, eventful day when Sarah asked if she could go to the movies with a few of her friends.
"Please, Dad? School starts up in a couple weeks," she begged, and Joel didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't need to bother to beg. He handed her some money from his wallet and she rushed up to her bedroom to get ready, announcing her friend Katy would pick her up in twenty minutes.
"Strange how Katy knew to pick her up before I said it was alright," Joel told you with a fake look of confusion. You laughed and plopped next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder while he flipped through the channels on the television.
You wrapped your hand around his bicep and snuggled in closer as he wavered back and forth between two different action movies. When you really thought about it, it was funny. Your life was so different just a year ago. You were engaged to someone else, living in New York City, wearing expensive clothes and dining at restaurants you didn't really care for but your fiancé did, so you pretended to like them, too. Now you were living a completely different life. One of comfort and love and joy and you had never felt happier.
As if he could read your mind, Joel lifted his arm and tugged you closer by the shoulders, then planted a kiss on the top of your head, further emphasizing how perfect your life seemed now.
"I'm coming downstairs now! Stop making out!" Sarah warned as she stomped down the steps. You stifled your laughter and Joel shot her a scowl.
"We're just watchin' TV."
"And I'm just covering my bases," she said with a grin, holding her hands up in surrender. A faint beep came from the road and she grabbed the purse you had given her earlier that day and said, "don't wait up!" over her shoulder before the door clicked shut.
"Don't wait up?" Joel repeated with a snort. "She's seventeen goin' on thirty."
You giggled and gazed up at him from your place against his side. "You wanna play some board games?"
He looked confused for a moment before the realization dawned on him.
"Hell, yes."
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The basement looked nicer than you expected. It wasn't completely finished but there was an area Joel had built a wall around and painted years ago. He had installed a drop ceiling and some laminate flooring but he never got around to actually doing much else with it until you moved in and had extra furniture. An area rug from your old apartment was in the center of the room, your old couch resting on top and your television was placed on your entertainment center across from the sofa. You had some floor lamps and end tables you could arrange in the space later on but for now, it was nice.
But all that didn't really matter that particular day. Not when your shorts dangled around one ankle, which was slung over the back of the couch, your legs spread wide as Joel kneeled on the area rug, his fingers gripping your hips as his tongue feverishly lapped at your pussy.
"Fuck, Joel... I'm close," you whined, hand clawing at his hair, your hips grinding shamelessly against his face. He just groaned, eyes fluttering closed as he drank you in, your scent engulfing him, absolutely loving the way you fell apart under his tongue.
"Joel," you gasped, mouth hung open as your gaze fixed on the top of his head. "Joel, d-do t-that thing-" you moaned loudly, cutting yourself off when he repeatedly grazed his teeth over your clit while working two fingers into your cunt, curling them so they pressed against that one spot he knew drove you crazy each time he dragged them in and out.
A moment later, your body went rigid and tears sprung to your eyes as you came, ragged groans melting into quiet little whimpers until he finally pulled away from the center of your thighs. His eyes were dark and wild as he panted for air, watching you with a cocky smirk as you struggled to come to your senses.
"Gonna let me fuck you now, baby?" he murmured, his pants already pushed halfway down his legs. You nodded in a daze, thighs trembling still when he stepped out of his jeans and kneeled onto the couch. He hovered over you, pressing his thick length against your pussy while he bent forward to bite and suck at your throat.
You gasped sharply and grabbed his shoulders when he first entered you. The initial stretch always took your breath away, regardless if he made you come first or not. You came to crave that feeling, those first few seconds of intrusion that made your mind go blank and your heart stutter before your body made room for him and relaxed. And because you knew he loved to hear it, your mouth found his ear and you whimpered, "so big," and you smiled when you heard his responding growl.
A few days before you moved in with Joel, you laid awake at night in your apartment, thinking back to your relationship before him. When you moved in with Will, it seemed like something shifted almost immediately, and not in a good way. The spark fizzled out as you adjusted to living with one another, putting up with each other's quirks and bad habits. Logically, you knew that spark was dying before you moved in together but at the time, you didn't want to admit it. But anxiety still crept up and you wondered if the same thing would happen with Joel.
What a stupid thing to worry about.
What you had with Joel was so different, it was hard to describe. But it was a feeling, something deep inside that couldn't be denied. This was special. This was unlike anything you ever experienced before and it was foolish to try to compare it to anything else.
As if you needed further proof, Joel sensed your mind had drifted elsewhere and he nipped at your lower lip to draw your attention back to him.
"What's wrong?" he whispered when you met his gaze. His hips had slowed down, worried you were uncomfortable and didn't want to say it. You slowly smiled and draped your arms around his neck, looking up at him with such love and adoration that he couldn't stop himself from smiling in return.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect," you told him. You tugged him down so you could give him a kiss, then mumbled, "you're perfect," against his mouth.
Joel flushed and shook his head gently, resuming his steady pace. Sometimes he had a hard time believing you were real. He spent a good chunk of his adult life thinking he would never find true love and after a few years of loneliness, he grew to accept that. He threw himself into his work and focused on raising Sarah but when he met you, it was like everything changed. He couldn't stop thinking about you to the point where he would have been content with just getting to know you better, but the moment he first felt your lips against his, he knew he didn't stand a chance. But when he first made love to you, it was all over. He knew within seconds he could never let you go, and he never did.
"You're the one who's perfect. God, so fuckin' tight," he groaned, flexing his hips with a little more force. You rewarded him with a sweet little moan and tipped your head back into the couch. "That feel good, baby?" he breathed, watching with pride as you writhed underneath him.
"Yeah," you whispered before sinking your teeth into your lower lip, skin already red and sensitive from where his own teeth had laid claim. "Again. Harder, Joel," you pleaded, and his eyelids fluttered as he tried to slow down his own orgasm that was already growing all too quickly.
He gave you what you wanted, hips snapping into yours roughly. Your whole body rocked beneath him, breasts bouncing free under your thin T-shirt, jaw slack and back arched so beautifully he had to look away before he came too soon.
"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whined, face pinching as he forced another orgasm to the surface with each powerful thrust.
"You like that?" he murmured, his dark eyes raking over your body greedily. "Tell me, baby. C'mon, wanna hear it."
"Yes," you whimpered, eyes still screwed shut, "feel so fucking good, Joel, fuck... so... so deep, I want more." You took in a deep breath, your release so close you could taste it. "More... don't stop, please... I-I need..." you were rambling now, unable to form a full sentence, barely aware you were saying anything at all and fuck, did he love being the one to make you do that. Make you lose control and give in, putting all your faith and trust in him to give you what you want. To make you feel good.
"I know what you need," he said through gritted teeth, then grabbed ahold of your hip and ground himself roughly against your cunt. Your eyes flew open and he smiled when you cried out, clenching around him after only two or three passes over your clit.
You were whispering his name mixed with something else incoherent as you came down and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He slammed into you over and over, eyes fixed on the way your pussy strained around his girth, his cock all shiny and slick with your arousal and he came with a loud groan, thrusting into you deep and slow until he was spent.
His arms began to tremble so he slowly lowered himself down to rest the side of his head against your chest and instantly, your hands came up to card through his hair. He sighed and closed his eyes, soaking in your gentle touch as his heart began to slow.
"Do you think it will always be like this?" you asked softly, fingers still threading through his curls.
"Yeah, I do," Joel replied, eyes still shut as he nuzzled into your chest.
"Good. Me, too."
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Maria was fun.
You knew immediately you would get along. Her sense of humor and her carefree attitude completely contradicted her profession as a newly appointed Assistant District Attorney, and you absolutely loved how full of surprises she was, especially how good she was at pool.
"Y'know, we just let you girls win," Joel teased when he put his pool cue down.
"Oh, yeah? Is that why I heard you and Tommy talking strategy on my way back from the bathroom?" you shot back. He grinned and tugged you into his chest, kissing the crown of your head before releasing you.
"C'mon, Tommy. Losers buy the next round," he said, giving his younger brother a playful shove. Tommy squeezed Maria's hand and gave her a warm smile before following Joel to the bar, leaving just you two to find an empty table. Maria spotted one right when a group of four were standing up to leave and she grabbed your arm, practically dragging you across the crowded floor to snag it before someone else did.
"Good eye!" you told her when you slid into the booth, the green, plastic cushion underneath you essentially useless after years of being flattened and never replaced. The table was sticky from spilled beer and droplets of hot sauce, so you each got to work yanking handfuls of napkins out of the dispenser at the end of the table and squirting hand sanitizer over the tabletop to clean the area as best you could.
"I don't think Tommy told me how long you two've been together," Maria said, her eyes lifting to search the bar for your dates.
"Uh, eight months or so," you told her, "we met right before Christmas."
She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "I would have guessed much longer. It feels like you know each other so well."
You could feel your cheeks warm from the compliment. It was clear to you what you had with Joel was special but it was always nice to hear others could see it, too.
"What about you and Tommy? He's been keeping you a secret but I want to guess... two months?"
"Three, actually," she corrected you. "We both agreed to take things slow. I had just gotten this job and I knew I would be putting in long hours, I wasn't really sure if I had the time to devote to a relationship but he stuck it out. I really thought he was going to bail when I kept having to call it early so many nights and cancel dates last minute but he's a trooper."
You leaned across the table and wiggled your eyebrows at her. "That's 'cause he really likes you."
She giggled and waved you off but you could see the delight in her eyes.
"I'm serious! I've only known him for as long as I've known Joel but from what I was told, Tommy didn't bring girls around often. Especially lately. You must be special," you teased, making her smile widen.
Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Tommy and Joel were having a similar conversation.
Now that Tommy had a few beers in him, he was more open to telling his brother about Maria and how happy he was with her.
"I'm tellin' you, Joel, I think she's the one," he was saying, slamming down an empty shot glass next to Joel's on the messy bar top.
"I like her, she keeps you in line," Joel quipped, taking a sip from his beer to chase the shot of whiskey. "Girls are gettin' along real good, too."
Tommy nodded and looked across the bar. "And how's things goin' with you two? She wanna move out yet?"
Joel laughed and shook his head. "Nah, it's only been two weeks. It'll probably take at least a month 'fore she realizes she made a mistake," he joked.
Tommy chuckled but caught the fond look in Joel's eye when he thought about you.
"So, you think this is it for us?" he asked, and Joel glanced up from his beer. "We finally found the ones?"
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk and he nodded.
"Hope so." Then maybe he was feeling a little braver, or maybe it was the alcohol, but he added, "got the ring already, be a little tough tryin' to take it back."
Tommy's eyes bugged out of his head. "You - what?"
Joel sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Yep. Had it for a while now. Asked Paul 'n everythin'."
Tommy's mouth opened and closed like a fish, completely stunned.
"And Sarah?"
He nodded and took a nervous sip from his bottle. "Talked to her, too. She's thrilled."
Tommy broke out into a huge grin and tugged Joel into a quick hug before pulling away and giving him a playful shoulder shove. "So when are you gonna do it?"
Joel sighed and looked around. "I don't know. When it feels right, I suppose."
"Shit," Tommy replied, rubbing his chin. "Gonna be a hell of a year."
Joel nodded and looked down at your drinks sitting on the bar. "We oughta go find the girls."
"Yeah," Tommy agreed, shaking his head like he was snapping out of a trance. He reached for Maria's drink while Joel grabbed yours but before they began to weave their way through the bar, Tommy stopped him.
"Congrats, brother. I'm happy for you."
"She didn't say yes yet," Joel reminded him with a raised eyebrow, but Tommy just shrugged.
"She will."
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
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aamircoeur · 8 months ago
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celebrity gossip 2 ー ken sato.
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the moment when japan's "it girl" decided to confess on live television, too. PREQUEL. PART 1. sfw, fluff. scenario & situations r made up! enjoy reading <3
"wait, okay. no, gods, wait," you rambled. you and your two best friends, tamayo and shau, were currently watching ken sato's interview in 'evening, darlings'.
shau laughed at your obvious nervousness. "just sit back and enjoy the show, [name]!" they exclaimed.
the flat screen showed ken sato in a black shirt that fit him so perfectly, while his iconic smile was visible on his face. "and may i just ask, my darling, of what your favourite thing about coming back to japan is right now?" the interviewer asked, placing their elbows on the arm rest of their chair.
"mmh," ken sato leaned back and had his hand on his chin. "without a doubt, playing for the giants. it was my childhood dream, you know." he started.
"of course. we've yet to interview mister shimura on his thoughts about his team's recent win and overall thoughts now that it includes you." the interviewer answered.
ken sato nodded. "oh, yeah, it's definitely better now," he joked, receiving heartful laughs from the audience and from the interviewer. "but, really, the team is what actually made me better myself. they're great, lively, amazing people filled with talent. in the fields and out, they've really showed me that people can be genuine, and i appreciate that." the interviewer had an awed look on their face.
"he's really such a great baseball player, no?" tamayo commented.
"i know!" shau chimed in. the two discussed the giants' recent game while you were in between them, wherein each player showed their strengths, highlighting ken sato's swift home run the moment he became the batter. you blocked out their conversation because for one, you didn't know shit about baseball, and two, you had ken sato's second interview for 'evening, darlings' aired in front of you right now.
"i came to japan for my father, too. he has been my greatest supporter since i was a kid alongside my mom, and it was about time i thanked the old man." ken sato smiled. "and, of course, you can not miss the japanese cuisine." the camera focused on him alone, showing his sly smirk while he winked at the camera, making the audience scream, and you, internally.
the interviewer and ken sato continuously talked about any topics that the former threw in, but now, the topic was about ken sato's social life. more specifically, the topic was about his answer during his last interview there.
"if it matters that much, i like [surname]." ken sato said, his thumb swiping underneath his nose to try and cover up a forming smile.
"[surname]? the [name] [surname], japan's "it girl"? that matters so much, darling!" the interviewer squealed.
yeah, that.
it seemed like their yomiuri giants talk had ended, for shau wrapped their arms around you and pressed their cheek against yours. "and once again, japan's "it girl" is the talk of the town," they smiled while watching the interview with you.
"i don't even know how i got that title." you laughed.
tamayo wrapped her hands around you as well and leaned her head on your shoulder. "'don't know', my ass." she said, making the three of you giggle. "ah, i could never imagine ken sato admitting that he likes me on national television." she added.
"he does not like me." you said, wiggling out of their bear hugs.
"'does not like me', my ass." shau said, making tamayo laugh and you playfully rolled your eyes. "shush, now! the topic's juicy!" they said, turning their attention to the tv.
"so, my darling, do you remember your answer when i asked you if you had a special someone in your life?" the interviewer asked.
"ah, yeah," ken said. "i like [surname]."
what the fuck.
while the two girls squealed almost as loud, if not louder, than the audience did in the studio, you were a hot mess. you were smiling sheepishly from ear to ear, face and ears all flushed from embarrassment as your eyes stared up at the flat screen.
"there is absolutely no way." tamayo squealed, hitting your shoulder after each word that she said.
"my darling!" the interviewer said, trying to catch the attention of everyone.
"yes, darling?" ken sato answered. the interviewer obviously liked that response, undeniably with the huge grin on their face.
"you are such a flirt, mister sato." they said, playfully making a hitting motion with their hand. "am i your celebrity crush now?" they said, laughing, and earning some laughs from the audience as well.
"ah, no. not at all. it's still [surname]." he answered cooly.
what the fuck.
the audience and the girls beside you collectively lost their shit once more, and right now, your face felt so hot that one might get a third degree burn upon touching it.
the camera focused on ken sato, making the viewers see his features so clearly. dear god, was this man handsome. "i have yet another question, ken." the interviewer spoke.
"fire away."
"from your guest appearance here, darling, you've left quite an impression on our audience. i think you might be their brand new eye candy." they said.
kenji laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "i'm flattered, but then again, i get it." he said, winking at the camera.
"will the audience ever stop squealing at ken sato?" tamayo said.
"as if you weren't just squealing with me a minute ago." shau replied, and you laughed heartily at this. "[name], how are you so composed right now!" they commented.
you looked at your two friends with a flustered face then put your face in your hands out of pure embarrassment. shau hugged you again and rocked you back and forth while tamayo just laughed at you. the interview finally ended with a wave goodbye from ken sato. while talking to your girls about what happened, your phone played your ringtone as it lit up, showing you an incoming call from your manager.
"excuse me, ladies," you told you girls and they just nodded as you went out of the room for privacy. "hello, hanabi. is something the matter?" you greeted.
"good evening, [nickname]. you seen the interview with ken sato?" she said in a teasing voice. you audibly sighed as a joke and the two of your shared a laugh. "crazy stuff, huh? anyway, i'm just here to inform you of recent additions to your schedule this month." she said.
"additions?" you echoed.
"mhm, nothing too big. the photoshoot in paris, france scheduled this thursday is still on the go," they started. "and you are to guest in 'evening, darlings' the following week on sunday, aired on tuesday."
you had a surprised look on your face. "woah, what? right after ken sato's stunts?" you asked.
"yup! perfect timing, i think it's to stir drama by hearing your side of the story. whatever their intentions may be, we can use this to our own advantage. i figured that engaging with his romantic advances would be good for you. it would be a good opportunity to switch your target audience, too. and i don't think it'll be that hard to convince you, knowing that you fancy the guy," she murmured the last part quickly as a way to tease you and you just laughed.
"but, seriously, i fear that you've been too sexualized, and i know you're just more than how the media portrays you, but then again, so is everyone else in the industry," she said sadly, and you felt touched that she didn't want that kind of fame for you and actively wanted to change that. she really was more than your manager, and you were glad to have her with you.
"th-thank you, hanabi. really." you said.
"it's nothing, dear! anyway, you'll have your rest days from monday to thursday, and on friday, you have a duo photoshoot for a sports brand called, 'royals'" hanabi added, talking quickly with her reason being to save the two of your time.
"oh, interesting. i think tamayo had a photoshoot with them before. which model will i be doing it with?" you asked her.
"there's no model, [nickname]."
"huh?"
"you're doing it with ken sato."
p.s., huge thank u to @shauu for allowing me to use their name <3 !! also, the cuisine joke from paragraph 9 is a reference to ambessa medarda from arcane when she said that she wanted to try piltover's local cuisine (the men) :^P
taglist: @lunaryasha @vrxouei @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @lovingyeet @moon-shampoo @hashxu @manjimeowmeow @sylvirmist-s-cottage @warlike-morning @beabadobeee @procastinatingbitch @zagreustomb @ttulipwritezz @/everyone else untaggable :(
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eclipse-msoul · 5 days ago
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FAMILY, FAMILY DEAR BATS! 🦇
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Synopsis : What happens when a normal reader enters Batfamily. Not by getting orphaned or saved but rather just visiting her uncle for the first time ( it's Bruce ). Now somehow she's become the unofficial therapist of this family and for unknown reasons the only one with enough common sense.Also why is everyone so Overprotective?
Or
Normal reader X Platonic Batfamily
Chapter 1 :-
Your life was pretty uneventful and even, except for a few ups and downs here and there. But still it was as ordinary as it could get, living with a mother that had nursing as a profession and your father being an office worker made it normal but nice.
That was until one day when your mother told you about your uncle’s existence. Her cousin to be exact.Well excuse you for being surprised- YOU didn't even know you had another living relative ??? And they just dropped the bomb so casually – that too at dinner time !!
“ I haven't actually met him yet but the media has framed him to be… quite unique.” Your mother quotes. “ I talked to him, he's a kind man and I think meeting him would do us some good.” Your father sees the way your one way from questioning reality so he gently pats your back and smiles.
“ Don't worry little star, if it makes you feel better she told me two days ago.” He says as your mother lightly giggles and the two make a couple of jokes here and there. “ You two…really..” you groan.
 As the dinner slowly comes to an end and your father and mother pick up the dishes and drop them at the sink, your mother glances at your father telling him to speak. “ Ahem-” he fake coughs to get your attention, “ This summer we're planning to send you to live with him.” 
You look at him , your eyes wide. “ I beg your finest pardon-WHaT!?” they both nod and you violently shake your head. “ What happened to you two going with me ?”
They share a glance , “ We'll be going together but you'll stay a bit longer and get to know him better. He's family after all."
“ Mom, dad ! You've got to be kidding me.” You try to reason, “ I don't even know him, Heck I didn't even know he existed until a few moments ago and you're telling me to just go and live with him out of nowhere !!”
Your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and you just know you're going to lose. “ Sweetie, my cousin isn't a bad man. Just think of it as meeting a new friend and also I heard Gotham has one of the best medical units in the world~"
You think for a moment before a sigh escapes your lips. You can't defeat them anyway, might as well try. ( Which is totally not because you're excited about checking out the hospitals in Gotham and their advancement. Nope sir, No way)
“ Fine, I'll go. When are we leaving ?” You ask to get up from the table. “ Tomorrow.” 
“ WhAt-”
Moving forward you are currently standing in front of the totally not terrifying and scary Mansion inside the most amazing and sunny Gotham. Get the sarcasm here ? Yeah, me too.
Your mother dials the number and the bell rings and runs until it's finally picked up. “ Bruce Wanye here.” his voice sounds horse, he was probably asleep you think. It's only 11am right now. You've slept far later.
“ Hello…yeah…it's me...” 
The Giant Gate automatically opens and the three of us enter. You take in the scenery and like you thought this place is really nice. It's a billionaire’s garden afterall. Just then a voice comes from inside the Mansion and a butler comes out.
He’s an old British looking man, the way he moves is elegant like those movies you've seen and the way he greets your parents and you is so nerve cracking. “ A pleasure to meet you Miss Rachel and Sir Lucas.” He greets them and then his eyes turn to you.
“ And this is?”
“ Y/n but please..call me Julia.” You reply.
“ Miss Julia then.” He states , “ please come in. Master Bruce has been waiting for your arrival.” He brings you all to the meeting area. As you all take a seat the butler bows yet again and walks away.
“ I'll get Mister Bruce here.” He says walking away.
Your gaze that was previously fidgeting back and forth now has time to look around. This house was so splendid and beautiful and everything was exceptional and well cared for.
Few minutes pass before the door chimes open and walks in on the Man you searched about last night. His posture is elegant like a noble, similar to the butler, yet his eyes are filled with dark circles.Youve got a very good feeling he hardly sleeps.
“ A pleasure to meet you.” He says while shaking hands with your parents and then taking a seat. “ I'm sorry it took me a while. I was busy and hardly had time to rest due to the WE business and projects coming up.” 
Your mother nodes. “ It's understandable Bruce. You've got a great burden on you and it can get hard.” You sit next to your father and mother, right in the middle of the giant sofa as they chat.
Bruce while talking turns his attention to you and you see how his eyes briefly soften and there's some sadness in them. But it vanished too quickly for you to think it was there.
“ This is your daughter ?” He asks.
“ Told you long enough to notice.” Your mother dabs a small sarcastic smile. She loves chaos far too much. “ I apologize-”
“ I'm kidding Bruce !” Your mother retorts back. “ This is my little baby girl , Julia Y/n.”
You smile at him awkwardly and he returns the gesture. “ How old are you, Julia ?”
“ I'm sixteen, Mr Wanye.”
“ Oh, you're close to Damien's age-” he remarks , “Please call me Bruce. I'm your uncle, Julia.” He smiles. 
“ Alright, uncle Bruce... and uh, who's Damien ?” you ask curious. Your parents definitely haven't mentioned a Damien.
" He's my son. So he'd be your cousin, Julia."
" Oh !" You glare at your parents for not telling you this and they just nervously turn away. They live messing with you far too much. Sigh
" How old is he, uncle Bruce ?"
" He's eighteen." Noticing your curiosity he deemed to telling you more.
" He's currently on a little trip to his elder brother's place. They'll be coming here by tomorrow" he smiled.
Okay that's it. How many cousins did you have ? You were told about one uncle and that's it.
" I see."
And you parents and uncle get back to their conversation. Soon enough the butler returns with some refreshments and introduces himself as Alfred Pennyworth.
Once you've eaten, you excuse yourself to look around the place and the butler whom you now know as Alfred guides you.
The Mansion is bigger than you initially thought and Mr. Alfred is a nice companion to talk to. He tells you about your cousins (surprise suprise, THERE'S MORE THAN SIX) and about how most of them are adopted except Damien who used to call himself the “ blood son” and all their shenanigans.
It's fun to learn about your soon-to-be-new family. All of them seem to sound like interesting individuals and you could use some cousins to play with. Alfred even mentions their hobbies and how they like to prank each other.
Also did you mention how the way to Gotham was the most nerve cracking thing ever. Like this is the city that batman-THE BATMAN couldn't cleanse after almost two and half decades of work. So it's an amazing day nevertheless.
While exploring the Mansion with Alfred your steps stop when a specific picture catches your eyes. You stop and observe it.
Two adults stood along with a small kid that you deemed to be eight to ten years old. The picture drew you in like nothing ever did. It had this air around it that just couldn't explain.
“ Lovely picture, No ?” Alfred’s voice broke your concentration. Your eyes slid to his and you smiled slightly. “ It is. Who are they ? The woman seems to resemble my mom.”
“ That's Miss Martha and Mr Thomas along with young master Bruce. It's a family photo before their death.” Alfred reminisced. “ It's been a tradition for generations and master Bruce has continued it.” He guided you to the latest picture of the family.
It felt forced.
They all felt too far away in this ( like they didn't want to be there ). Even Bruce felt off. Different from the smiling man you had just met. He seemed tired and sad.
“ Those are my cousins ?” You asked, hoping Alfred didn't see the look in your eyes
“ Yes miss Julia.” He told you which was who by pointing and explaining their descriptions. Being a sixteen year old girl with an intense love for history and lore and yaoi, you tried your best to listen.
“ It was really nice to meet family. Thanks for having us Bruce.” Your mother hugged Bruce which he returned and then he shaked hands with your father. “ No thank you for coming. I'm kind of ashamed to admit, it gets lonely without my children here..” He chuckled.
" Well you won't get lonely not with our dear Julia here ! She had a tendency to make people break their shell and fit in." You father added.
" She sounds like a lovely child. Does she perhaps have an interest in medicine ? She kept asking about it during our conversations." 
Your father and mother shared a small grin. " She does. It's all she can ever dream about."
" That's...good." his eyes flickered to you.
You had fallen asleep an hour ago during dinner and was currently laying on the sofa. Your snores echoed throughout the Mansion. Your parents chuckled and Bruce couldn't help but think it was a pleasant change.
A child that didn't have to fight crime.
One that didn't have to take the burden of the world.
He had already investigated your and your parents backgrounds and confirmed that your mother was indeed his blood cousin. The blood part was maybe due to Damien kind of rubbing off on him.
It was a shock to find out about her existence. Even more to know his mother had a elder sister that passed away few years back and her only child had disappeared as a toddler. That was your mom.
He would never even know of her existence if not for her searching for her parents and finding him. He almost cried when he saw her picture, she resembled his mother in looks except her hair was black.
But you, your looked like the exact replica of his mother. Like a younger version.
He knew your personality was meek yet it had kindness and a spirit all his children had. It was nice chatting with you during dinner. You expressed your interest so well and he knew that his kids would love you. Maybe even Damien. 
Talking to a kid like this , carefree and smiling reminded him of what he had lost.It almost felt like his children hadn't left.
That part really hurt.
“ Alfred will take you to the rooms. You can have any you like. Have a pleasant sleep, I'll see you all in the morning.” He said leaving you and your parents in Alfred's care (not before glancing at you one final time.)
Time for his duty.
TBC…
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amirasainz · 2 months ago
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What about biker Oscar, who takes his girlfriend for a ride and she is like his adorable backpack and he loves riding his bike with her. Thx 😊
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🧡
Ride or Die
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The rumble of Oscar's bike echoed through the quiet suburban street as he rolled into the driveway. The sleek black motorcycle gleamed under the evening light, its chrome parts catching the golden hues of the setting sun. He parked, pulling off his helmet, running a hand through his slightly messy hair. Oscar loved his bike. The freedom it gave him, the power it commanded—it was all exhilarating. But tonight, something was different. Tonight, it wasn’t just about the ride.
Tonight, Yn would finally ride with him.
As he walked into the house, he found Yn pacing the living room. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her oversized hoodie, her brows furrowed in thought.
“Hey, babe,” Oscar greeted, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “You ready?”
Yn froze, spinning on her heel to face him. “Uh… yeah. I think.”
Oscar chuckled, setting his helmet on the counter. “You think?” He stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to be nervous, you know. I’ve got you.”
“I know,” Yn said, biting her lip. “It’s just… you drive so fast, Oscar. And what if I fall off? Or what if—”
“Whoa, whoa,” he interrupted, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then trust that I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “You’ve been my girl for three years, Yn. I wouldn’t risk a scratch on you.”
Her cheeks warmed at his words, and she nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Oscar’s grin widened. “That’s my girl.”
---
They stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against Yn’s skin. Oscar handed her a sleek black helmet.
“It’s a little big, but it’ll do for now,” he said, helping her adjust the straps.
She looked at the bike, her stomach twisting with both excitement and apprehension. “So… where do I sit?”
Oscar laughed. “Right behind me. You’ll be my ‘backpack.’”
“Backpack?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you’ll wrap your arms around me and hold on tight. Easy.”
She climbed onto the bike, hesitating as she tried to find her balance. Oscar steadied her with a firm hand on her knee.
“Relax,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re doing great.”
Once she was seated, she wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist.
“Tighter,” he instructed.
Yn tightened her grip, and he chuckled. “That’s better. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she mumbled.
Oscar started the engine, and the bike roared to life. Yn squeaked, burying her face against his back.
“Don’t worry, babe,” he called over the sound of the engine. “You’re gonna love this.”
---
At first, the bike’s speed was overwhelming. The wind whipped past Yn’s face, and the vibrations beneath her were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. But as they sped down the open road, something shifted. The fear melted away, replaced by a sense of freedom she hadn’t expected.
The world blurred around her—streetlights streaked into golden lines, and the city buzzed faintly in the background. Yn tightened her arms around Oscar, pressing closer to him.
“You okay back there?” he shouted.
“Yeah!” she called back. “This is amazing!”
“Told you!”
They hit a red light, and Oscar slowed to a stop. He reached down, gently pulling her arms even tighter around his waist. His hand lingered for a moment, caressing her forearm.
“You’re doing great,” he said, glancing back with a soft smile.
Yn’s heart fluttered, and she smiled back. “Thanks.”
When the light turned green, they were off again, this time heading out of the city and toward quieter roads.
---
Oscar finally pulled over at a scenic overlook, the city lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The engine cut off, leaving a peaceful silence.
“How was it?” he asked, turning to look at her.
Yn pulled off her helmet, her hair slightly messy but her smile radiant. “It was incredible. I don’t know why I was so scared.”
Oscar smirked. “Told you I’d take care of you.”
He gestured for her to climb off the bike, then patted the seat in front of him. “Come here.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Sit here,” he said, patting the space again.
Curious, Yn climbed onto the bike, straddling the seat and facing him. Oscar’s hands came up to rest on her hips, pulling her closer.
“This is the best seat in the house,” he said, nodding toward the view.
Yn turned to look, and her breath caught. The sprawling city stretched out before them, glittering under the night sky.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“So are you,” Oscar said, his voice soft.
She turned back to him, her cheeks warming. “Stop it.”
“I mean it,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re my girl, Yn. And I’m glad I finally got to share this with you.”
Yn smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
“Never,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “You’re my ride or die.”
They stayed like that for a while, Yn sitting in front of him, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched the city lights. The night was quiet, but the moment was electric, filled with the kind of love and trust that only grows stronger with time.
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k2ntoss · 8 months ago
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I need more baby daddy Jason. Maybe sitting at the park watching him with ur kids and hearing the other moms ogling over him
yall dangerously feeding my brain rot and it's giving me a baby fever i do not wish to feed !!!!!!!!!!! but whoever says baby daddy jason you have my heart rn bc i adore that man!!!!!!!!!!!
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by the end of the week it was already time for your kids to go out and have a pretty day at the park, jason had been really busy lately so you took the stroller and placed your babygirl on it before calling your boy, living copy of jason when he was a kid and you couldn't want it any other way because both of your babies had those pretty emerald eyes you so adored.
the way to the park was easy, those two kids had a way to be pretty little angels when it came to go out to the park and you loved that because jason would usually catch up with you sometimes when the work was too much and today was one of those days. your little boy was six and your little girl four, which made it a bit hard to have him playing around and keeping an eye on your babygirl but as soon as jason joined you it was time for the girl to also leave your arms.
jason has been an amazing dad, always making sure his kids and girl were just fine, that they had everything they could ever need and want and it was easy to see in the way the little girl giggles loudly when he sweeps her out of your arms and walks to the playground while you sit, keeping an eye on your son and it's easy to hear the small group of moms muttering and giggling close to where you're sitting.
"do you think he's single? maybe divorced... he just came and picked up the girl from her arms" one of the women says and you roll your eyes because you know how damn well jason looks and how easy it is for him to trigger a baby fever in anyone but the small pang of possessiveness and jealousy that stirs in your chest is there.
"he didn't kissed her, i bet she is the kids' mom but they're not together... i should try and get his number," oh, over your damn dead body anyone would even dare to try and getting jason's number but you know better so you sit, looking at your family with a fond smile because now your two kids are held by jason.
you look at him and you can tell he's been working out more recently because he seems fitter, a little less of that dad body he had gotten since your second child was born and you loved how he looked, broad and muscly but there was a little tummy that only made you drool even more for the father of your kids.
you had to endure the comments and ogling from that group of moms for at least half an hour until you decided you had enough. walking over the place where jason was playing with the kids you stood close, looking at him with a smile when he lifted his head to glance at you and the glint on his eyes made you heart flutter, he picked up the kids on his arms and strode towards you with the widest smile ever amd without saying anything else he leaned in to press a tender kiss on your lips.
"hey there, ma," he whispered still close to your face "i missed you..." the words never fail to make your whole body shudder as you stand in front of the love of your life because that's what jason was, flaws and everything he was everything you could ever want.
"missed you too, jaybird... mind if we take the kids for ice cream?" you ask with a soft tone and it's easy for him to notice what's going on when you don't even pull away but stand even closer while looking up at him like a lovestruck teen again.
that's when jason gently places your girl in the stroller and wraps his free arm around your waist before he peppers a few kisses on your neck earning a chuckle from you and a soft 'yuck' from your boy's lips.
"daddy! stop kissing mommy! let's go for ice cream" and the childish protest makes jason smirk, knowing now he had yet to deal with a whole bunch of spoiled babies instead of just you but he wouldn't have it any other way and like that, with his arm still around your waist jason makes the way to get ice cream and you can satisfiedly feel the disappointment in the group of moms that were shamelessly planing to hit on jason.
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jedisupernova · 19 days ago
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old school love with choi seunghyun
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notes minors dni contains fem reader, non idol au, seunghyun and reader are in their early twenties, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the late 2000s (hence the mention of specific phones, references to certain media, songs linked throughout, and party culture,) awkward yet cute first meeting, this very much slice of life, slight angst (a silly misunderstanding during the meet cute, reader brings up insecurities from not being experienced), tooth rotting fluff, a few appearances from jiyong because yes!, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader is inexperienced (never been kissed, never been confessed to; seunghyun is her first love), reader has strict parents which leads to seunghyun and reader having to sneak around, seunghyun and reader are down bad, smut (over the phone, in the car, oral f receiving, dirty talk, foreplay, p in v), and some inevitable typos.
requested? no, this is an original idea! this was initially inspired by the mention of old school love in this song by zayn. i've always heard of the concept, and this is my take on it, told through vignettes of gentle young love. please request something if you'd like, and don't hesitate to check my pinned post. i love this man tenderly. please tell me you see the vision. enjoy!
new year's eve 2007. there's still three hours to midnight, and seunghyun's wondering why he chose to wear a hoodie with long sleeves underneath to a crowded house party. luckily he's got his own corner of the compact living room, standing between two friends he hitched a ride with there—his third being the host—so he aptly distracted himself from how hot it was with their banter as best he could, laughing into his red solo cup before taking a swig of whatever concoction his friend mixed for him in the kitchen earlier tonight. he hid his soured expression over the taste well, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. seunghyun remembers asking for a rum and coke, and he can definitely taste the latter ... but he'd know his enemy smirnoff anywhere ... it was way too stuffy to move, so he humbly took the loss.
"there you fuckin' are!" seunghyun looked up to see jiyong, the one hosting who already looked as if the night had taken its toll. "holy shit, man. i've been looking everywhere for you guys!" seunghyun had to squint to hear him over the loud music. the fact there wasn't much lighting besides a few lamps and multi-colored rotating disco party lights didn't help either. "c'mon. she just got here—in the kitchen." jiyong motioned his head to the left, the trio following him into the crowd. the kitchen was much more well lit and slightly less congested, but seunghyun nonetheless had to put his weight against the fridge to grant enough room to stand comfortably. he offered a polite grin and wave to the friend group mainly comprised of women his age in front of him, the one in the middle introduced as jiyong's girlfriend. you were closest to the counter, the left of everyone, cracking open a hard seltzer you picked from the cooler stationed beside the sink. you grimaced after taking a sip, bringing the can to your eyes to see the flavor that wronged you: lime. "christ, that's horrible." you shook your head, expression soured.
seunghyun didn't overhear, because he was too busy looking over his shoulder in amazement upon hearing one of his suggestions for the party mixtape blare throughout the house. reverting his attention back with a smug grin on his face, his eyes fluttered past you tugging at the collar of your sweater, pulling at it repeatedly for what looked to be air flow. seunghyun wondered if the party felt like an oven to you, too, and if you overdressed like him, because he started fanning himself without realizing.
an hour later, he couldn't take it anymore. "be right back, i'm going out for a smoke." he told a friend sat beside him on the couch. he could not have cared less that it was below freezing outside, or that the leftovers from the snow storm three weeks ago had probably frozen over into patches of black ice littering the deck—he needed to cool off. he closed the sliding door with a relieved huff, the party now muffled. the feet of his sneakers crunched against the snow, hands pushing his hood off his head, fingers brushing through his sweaty hair. "holy shit." he muttered to himself, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. seunghyun could see his breath when he exhaled, and goosebumps rose along his bare arms, but as far as he was concerned, he would stay out here to ring in the new year if it meant he wouldn't have to suffer a heatstroke inside. he walked to a spot behind the wooden railing framing the entirety of the deck, his hand reaching into his pocket for his marlboros. he took out a cigarette, hanging it between his lips, searching for his lighter next. it was then he looked up and saw you standing at your own spot along the railing some feet away, having looked over your shoulder to see who else had come outside.
it was too late to ignore, or act like you didn't see each other, so he did the favor of making things less awkward. or trying to, as any twenty-something year old hopes: seunghyun took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. "hi," he spoke uncharacteristically quietly. "you're—" thank the universe he remembered her name, because the irrational nerves over making conversation were mounting quickly. "—friend, right?" you nodded. "you're jiyong's?" you asked. he smiled, nodding too. "i'm seunghyun. we met earlier, in the kitchen?" his tone asked if you remembered, his hand gesturing to the sliding door. "yes!" you responded a bit more enthusiastically than you intended to in your head, internally cringing. "i remember, i remember." you said, nodding. you didn't know what else to do. seunghyun must've felt the same, because he nodded at nothing.
you looked away from him, feeling flustered. he mimicked, hands balled up in his pockets. "you—" he cleared his throat. "you liking the party?" "hm?" you didn't expect him to continue the conversation. "yeah!" here you went again, sounding animated to the point that even he, a complete stranger, could tell you were over-compensating. "i mean," you let out a breath, shrugging your shoulders. "its okay. i don't really go to parties often, so i guess i could say i misjudged how hot it'd be to show up in a sweater with a thermal underneath." seunghyun exhaled through his nose, an upside down grin tugging at his lips. "i know." he agreed. "hot as shit in there, bro." you chuckled. "hot as shit indeed."
silence brewed. seunghyun didn't turn away, so you took it as your turn to fill the air. you pulled out the only card you had (bringing up a mutual friend,) even if he'd done so already: "how long have you—" the sudden dryness of your throat was certainly a sign from the universe to shut up, but it was too late to cut yourself off completely. you swallowed, continuing: "how long have you known jiyong?" "since we were kids. middle school, i think." seunghyun doesn't know why he implied he didn't know, because he certainly did. he also wondered why he nodded, again, at nothing. who boldfaced lied when they said your preteen years were the most awkward? because he wanted to curl into a ball right the fuck now. he was usually fine at making small talk, what was the difference now? why couldn't he stop nodding?? "how about you?" oh, great. now his voice was a noticeable octave higher, clearing his throat.
you knew what he meant. "we met each other our freshman year. she was in my first year seminar, and we kind of just clicked." "you go to school around here?" "mhm," you nodded. "the university that everyone we know goes to, it feels like." you quipped, making that upside down grin appear on his face again. "how about you?" "the community college that no one goes to." he answered, voice back to normal. "but i'm in the middle of transferring there, funnily enough." then ushered in another characteristically young adult conversation: your studies. it was standard and harmless. even so, you came across a different reason to break a sweat despite the bitter cold beginning to numb your cheeks, or the sharp, quick breaths through your periodically chattering teeth. seunghyun took a step closer to you in the midst telling an anecdote about the last exam he had before the holiday break, inadvertently putting himself in your direct line of view. you realized not only oh, wow. he's pretty tall, to yourself, lifting your head a little to look at him, but also oh, wow. he's pretty cute, when your eyes met. or when he continued looking at you, because he finished saying his piece some seconds ago, yet you hadn't said anything. the fleeting silence only made you become more flustered, really coming to terms with just how fine he is; all clashing with how you have no idea how to talk to someone this attractive.
"yeah, that sounds fucked up." you attempted to mask the fact that you did not process a word of what he just said with a chuckle, gaze lowering momentarily to your hands, tugging at your sleeves to shield them from the cold, or just to do something. the words felt foreign in your mouth—your inner monologue making you feel like you were trying too hard—though you weren't allergic to profanity whatsoever. seunghyun smirked to himself, his own gaze falling to the snowy deck, until you spoke: "i had, like, three exams all in one day—the day before break." you said, glancing up at him before chickening out, reverting back to your hands which were completely engulfed by your knit sweater. your thumb poked out of the sleeve, nail picking at a fraying thread. "i guess i'm still feeling the repercussions of it." the volume of your voice dwindled somewhat coupled your shy grin, your shoulders shrugging, looking up at him. even through his chuckle with a smile making the corners of his eyes kiss, or his affirming "its brutal. i get that.," you mentally berated yourself: holy shit, is that the best i can do? just continue talking about school? get yourself together!
the next bout of silence lasted for at most ten seconds, but with how you were scrambling, it felt like years; working against an invisible timer. unbeknownst to him, this was seunghyun's turn to look at you. the only word coming to mind was sweet. he was smart enough to put two-and-two together as to why you were, admittedly, visibly nervous as he's had a girlfriend before. he wasn't the type to use that to inflate his ego, but found it charming nonetheless. seeing the curvature of your cheeks when you looked down made his heart soften—his lips molding into that damn knowing grin—and it could've very well been the minute gust of wind, but the glint in your eyes when you looked at him, nodding politely ... he was a little taken aback. you were devastatingly adorable.
your eye caught the cigarette in his hand. "you smoke?" you blurted out without an iota of a thought, so quick that your tone was almost bland—a moment where the subconscious beat rationale. oh my god. you momentarily closed your eyes, shocked at yourself. are you kidding me? seunghyun held in a laugh, trying his best to wipe his smile off his face when you opened your eyes. you mistook it as a sign of second-hand embarrassment. "oh my god. i'm so sorry, i don't know why i said—" "—it's okay, you're good." seunghyun shook his head as further affirmation, waving his free hand. he had completely forgotten he was still holding the cigarette, anyway. "but, yeah. i do. sometimes." his face started to feel warm. not because he felt shamed, or belittled, or judged, but because he caught sight of your eyes again. he could've sworn they'd grown in the last fifteen seconds. "d—do you?" he suddenly became very aware of how deep his voice is. "my voice has always sounded like this." he explained, gesturing to his throat. he knew he was being irrational, but like you before, it was too late to cut himself off. "i'm not like—uh—dying, or anything." he brushed off with an animated chuckle.
you felt like the worst person in the world. the nervous smile on your face didn't move a millimeter. "i don't." you shook your head. "and it's okay! i didn't mean to—i like your voice." your eyes widened. seunghyun raised his eyebrows. "you do?" he couldn't hide his smile. he returned the boldness, even if yours was a slip of the mouth. "i like your face." he meant it. there isn't a timeline out there where that wouldn't be the truth. your surprised expression made him exhale through his nose, an admiring grin on his face. oh, he wanted you. flashes ran through his head: squishing what looked to be the softest cheeks in the world between his palms, pulling you close to his chest to help you warm up; pressing his cheek against yours as a makeshift heater since you've truly made him that flustered, and how you'd react upon him calling you "my girl." sure, he was moving a little quickly, considering he's just realized he never asked for your name, but that's what just crushes do. seunghyun could not help the dream-like state he entered, placing his hand on the railing, the unlit cigarette slipping from his fingers, lost in the grass below. you, on the other hand, were speechless. never before have you ever been flirted with—this was flirting, right? like, you weren't misreading anything, or making shit up? "you ... you do?"
before seunghyun could answer, the sliding door opened, the ruckus of the party no longer blocked out. "seunghyun!" it was jiyong. "it's thirty minutes 'til the ball drop. i need help setting up the champagne." jiyong saw you, nearly cowering at seunghyun's scathing look reading are you fucking serious? "m-my bad, you guys." jiyong laughed awkwardly, putting a hand up in surrender. "seunghyun, just come in whenever." the door closed, leaving you two alone again. you were sheepish out of your goddamn mind, unable to look at seunghyun, content with the fact that your eyes may just stay on the deck forever. "i meant it, by the way." you looked up. "hm?" "i like your face." seunghyun repeated. your full smile that appeared ... his knees might have buckled. "oh," a giggle left your lips. yeah, he was a goner. "thank you. i ... i like your face, too." your voice was gentle. it felt indescribable, flirting back. you weren't sure if you were doing it right, considering you were suddenly really interested in the shape of your pointer finger's nail bed right about now, thwarting this fire-pit of feelings in your chest ... to be desired, chatted up, or pursued like this ... by a fine ass man nonetheless ... after being sidelined for your whole life, watching your friends experience something you wanted so badly too. oh my goodness—maybe your friends weren't just trying to make you feel better when they told you ad nauseam that it comes when you least expect it. because out of everything, and you mean everything you expected to happen tonight, this wasn't even in the realm of the realm of the utmost realm of possibilities.
you warded off wanting to hold his hand by interlacing your fingers together. seunghyun couldn't stop the stupidly big smile stretching across his face if he tried. "cool," he said, nodding. "that's .... that's cool." his hand came up, scratching the back of his neck. "listen, i .. uh—" he gestured to the door. "i gotta go back inside and help jiyong with the—with the champagne. could i get your number? i'll call you tomorrow, if that's okay with you." "yes!" your heart stammered over how he smiled so big his eyes smiled with him. seunghyun gave you his nokia flip phone, letting you type your number in. "call yourself so you can have my number, too." said seunghyun, pulling his sleeves back down. you did so, satisfied hearing your phone ring, pulling it out of your pocket to end the call. "i never got your name." he said, putting his phone back into his pocket. when you told him, he didn't stop his inner monologue from adding his surname. call it a random impulsive thought or whatever, but he was being serious. "i'll see you inside?" he asked, halfway through walking to the door. "mhm!" you responded. "see you inside." seunghyun smiled, disappearing back into the party. you missed his fine ass already . . .
so there you were, the next evening, repeatedly glancing at your phone. you felt fine for a majority of the day; sleeping in after coming home late the night previous, treating your hovering hangover with plentiful amounts of water and falling asleep yet again, but within the first hour of fellowship of the ring (it was your first time in recent years defying your self-made new year's tradition), and hurriedly bringing your phone within eyesight if it did so much as beep. you wondered if seunghyun would actually call . . . it all seemed too good to be true . . . and you hoped that he'd just magically show up, looking over your shoulder and out the living room window for his car (did he even have one?) and walk up to your door (he hasn't the faintest clue where you live) with a bouquet of roses (he doesn't know they're your favorites. well, at least not yet) to profess his undying love to you (working on that too. the to do list is in your head). so when your phone rang after dinner, your hair still very much wet from your shower; the towel having just been thrown behind your desk chair, you momentarily froze. you grabbed your phone from your desk, confused by the unknown number. but then you recognized the area code as your own, realising that in the midst of your yearning, you completely forgot to save his number.
you pressed the answer button, bringing your phone to your ear. "hello?" "hey!" my goodness, it wasn't too good to be true. "happy new year! i wasn't able to find you after the ball dropped. so, yeah. here's me wishing you." he descended into a short, slightly nervous chuckle. he was looking for me!? oh my god!? "happy new year," you said back, closing your bedroom door. "you were looking for me? i left at around two, i think. how about you?" "five, maybe." seunghyun dodged the other question, his face already feeling warm not even a full minute in. "jiyong needed help cleaning up, and kicking people out." "five!?" you exclaimed, sitting on the edge of your bed. "and here i was, fighting sleep all day, whereas you sound unscathed." seunghyun laughed heartily. "i slept in until, like, two today. so i wouldn't say i was completely unaffected." "that's fair." you nodded, despite him not being able to see.
"how about you, hm?" he asked, voice smooth and low, even over the grainy audio. "did you sleep good?" "i did. better than usual." seunghyun smirked, fingers toying with the drawstring cords of his sweatpants. "how about you?" he heard your sweet voice ask. "i slept good, too. knowing i'd be talking to you the next day." you hid your eyes behind your palm, elbow resting atop your thigh. how you were able to get words out, you had no idea. "seunghyun," he could hear that on a loop for the rest of his life and he would die a happy man. "you can't just say shit like that." "why not?" the gentle, yet teasing lilt to his words made you feel dizzy. it was as if the universe finally aligned in your favor. what he would do to see the look on your face right now . . . "what? have you never been flirted with, or something?" he quipped playfully without much thought. "i haven't, no." you answered truthfully. "but you still can't say shit like that, seunghyun. i need a warning or something. it's like my mind stops working." you chuckled, pressing your phone to your ear like its the last thing you'll ever do.
seunghyun's eyebrows flinched in and out of a furrow. "no one's ever flirted with you? what do you mean?" the question aired out before thinking. the realised insensitivity of his words coupled with the unintended belittling tone made him backtrack almost immediately: "that was low of me to say. i'm sorry, that's my bad completely." he shook his head completely. "it's okay!" you shook your head, too. "you didn't know. it's fine." you took a breath. "but if we're being honest . . . no. i've never done anything like that before. i'm more used to seeing it happen to other people than experiencing it, if that makes sense." "it does." seunghyun was quick to affirm, nodding whilst he listening to your words carefully. "yeah," your palm slid up and down your thigh, subconsciously trying to self-sooth. "so . . . last night, when we were talking . . . i thought you were making fun of me. or pulling my leg. but then i realised my brain just wasn't letting me accept that . . . oh, this guy might think i'm cute, too." "i do. i do think that." seunghyun sat up in his bed, determined. "i would never do that. i'm not that type of guy. i don't know who you've met, or made you feel like this, but know i'm not like that."
there was a brief moment of silence from your end of the call. "are you sure you're not just saying that to me to be nice?" "of course not." he said sincerely, tone soft. "of course i'm not saying it to be nice. i mean it. i'll be honest, when i met you last night, you have some of the most kissable cheeks i've ever fucking seen." he pulled his legs up to sit criss-cross. this was serious to him. "how about when you casually mentioned you won an award for a policy paper you wrote about education? i didn't know i'd be at the same party as the future president." "oh my god!" you laughed, face feeling as if it was ablaze. "you're crazy." "look, people have decided to miss out on you, but i won't. are you free on friday? no—scratch that, we're on break until next week. are you free tomorrow?"
for the first time in your life, you didn't feel the need to convince yourself you were worthy of romance, because the universe rooted for you, too. "i am. all day." you said. "i'll take you to dinner. do you want to see a movie?" "i like them, yeah. but . . . i mean, i was watching fellowship of the ring earlier today." just say it. he's right there, on the other side of the line. just say it. ". . . but, i like talking to you. i'd—" you cleared your throat. "i'd rather do that then wait two hours to—uh—do so, if that makes sense." your palm started soothing your thigh again. seunghyun had the stupidest smile on his face. he refrained from hiding his head underneath his pillow. "but we can watch a movie! next time! if that's . . . if that's what you want!" your eyes closed in defeat, hiding your face from no one. "oh god, i'm digging myself into a hole here. i have no idea how to do this." "you're doing really well." said seunghyun. "enough to make my face feel like i have the highest fever ever." "you too." you responded sheepishly. "we'll finish fellowship of the ring on our second date. it's my favorite after return of the king, anyway." you hit the jackpot. "okay," you responded, how fucking sweet you sounded made his heart palpitate. "sounds good, seunghyun. i can't wait."
three months later, you beginning to feel those love songs you've heard all your life were onto something. something you come to terms with would pass you by as a way to cope—but here he was now, bending down onto his knee in the middle of a busy bookstore to tie your shoelace; buying the cds of your favorite artists that you mention either intentionally or off-the-cuff, downloading them to his ipod to listen in between lectures, doing coursework, or storing them into his cd wallet in the center console of his car to listen on his way to pick you up; or spending a lot of his time kissing those precious cheeks ("you're so sweet, you know that? so pretty, too." "seunghyun . . ." "see, that's what i mean.") he's a very smooth talker, doting, and affectionate. primarily because he cannot get enough of the look on your face whenever he makes a move, but also because you breath more life into him when he does so. to seunghyun's fault, however, he can get a little ahead of himself, and forget how shy you can be. so when the tension had been brewing throughout the entirety of your third date, you two sat in bashful silence in his car, him parked some feet away from your house. the music had since been lowered; one of the many cds he's bought since you started dating. seunghyun leaned over the center console towards you, only to retract somewhat when he heard a small gasp. "i'm sorry," he said. "did i—was that too quick?" "no, no. it's okay." you nodded in reassurance. "i just . . . i've just never kissed anyone before. sorry, i know that probably sounds really annoying by now." your hands were in your lap, thumb running over your knuckles to thwart the warmth traveling up your neck.
seunghyun shook his head. "its not. i told you its not." he said sincerely. its true, he has told you that it is and will never be a problem. how he giggles over the phone and presses kisses onto the back of your hand whenever he holds it serves as testament, but that voice in your head can be a bit louder. "i want to." you tell him, eyes meeting with his. seunghyun looked so fine it was almost offensive; his grown out black hair and choppy bangs messily framing his face albeit with effortless charm. he's told you he thinks it makes him look weird, hence how often he wears beanies and puts his hood up, but the moment you muttered "i think it makes you look really handsome," over the phone two nights ago, he showed up tonight letting it breath no problem. "but i don't know how." you told him, shaking your head. "its okay, baby," seunghyun reassured tenderly. it was the first time he called you that pet name, but he didn't think twice as it felt akin to natural instinct to call you that. you, on the other hand, were struggling to keep it together in the passenger's seat. i only have so much strength as a woman . . . you thought to yourself.
"we'll take it slow. just close your eyes and take a breath for me, okay? the rest'll come naturally. i promise." "okay." you nodded, trusting him. seunghyun leaned in again. you saw his eyes glance at your lips before returning to yours, your lids darkening your vision only when his nose brushed against yours. his lips were soft and wet as he had licked them before kissing you. yours were so fucking warm against seunghyun's, making him want to kiss you all the more harder, but he steadied himself, reconnecting gently. the side of his nose nestled against yours. "how was that?" he whispered. the cd had finished playing, so the car was quiet besides you and him. "good." you whispered back. "how did i . . . how did i do?" "good," he nodded, glancing at your lips again. "just . . . try kissing me back. don't think about it," your felt his hair tickle your forehead as he shook his head. "i know you'll be good."
to his delight, you were the one that closed the small gap between you. the kiss was so soft, almost nurturing; all the more intoxicating. you reconnected the kiss, pressing your lips onto his in a way that made his arms feel like tv static. "a little softer." he murmured, half-talking to you, but more-so to himself to come down. seunghyun went to kiss you again, but his lips landed on the corner of your opened mouth. "i-i'm sorry." "no, no. it's okay, baby," he tutted softly. christ, that fucking voice of his was going to end you one day. "come here. come here, baby." he got your lips back on his, but you broke it again, obscenely flustered. your heartbeat was in your temples, your palms sweaty in your lap. "seunghyun," you pleaded in that voice he would go to fucking war for. "you can't just call me that." "i can, and i will." he said. "now, come here, baby."
his hand reached over, holding both of yours beneath his palm. you brought a hand up to his jaw when he kissed you, feeling him hum against your lips in encouragement. seunghyun tilted his head a little to the left, deepening the kiss but not by too much, monitoring your reaction. his muscles relaxed upon feeling your exhale through your nose brush along his cheeks. the kiss ceased after a few moments by you once again, only this time to catch your breath. he rested his forehead against yours, breathless himself. "you're really good at this." he said, heartbeat stuttering when he heard your quiet "thank you." seunghyun blurted out this next question without much thought or reason, since he imagined the moment where he asked this to be more romantic, but he simply could not hold himself back: "can i—can i be your boyfriend?"
"yes, yes you can." you responded. both of your hands now held either side of his face, feeling his hand squeeze your thigh a little. "you can be my boyfriend, seunghyun." a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "i'll—i'll get you flowers and card, and ask you more properly next time." "its okay, its fine." you nodded against his forehead. your thumb traced his bottom lip, "just kiss me right now. i—i need—" you did not need to tell him twice. seunghyun reunited your lips, hand gripping your thigh when your fingers slipped into his hair.
even though you were well over the appropriate age to start dating, you just knew your parents would freak out if they knew you were running around with a boy. you didn't even think to employ the thought; it just wasn't an option. it would be something about distracting yourself from your studies (your grades were nowhere near subpar), or moving too quickly (hey! you're in college, by the way), or being subject to the ongoing mass, unreasonable hysteria over teen pregnancy perpetuated by national news editorials and shitty reality shows, making parents believe by standing near the opposite sex their daughters will somehow be with child (again, you're in your twenties and in college, and its also not your fault parents around the country treat mtv like its the second coming of the satanic panic of the eighties)—so you saved yourself the trouble. seunghyun understood wholeheartedly and took no issue with it, but that doesn't mean he didn't dare go against the grain.
a week before your two month anniversary, your ringtone rang, slightly muffled atop your duvet. you got up from your desk chair, leaving your coursework behind and walked to your bed, clicking the green call button. "hi seunghyun," your voice was soft. "everything okay?" "hey baby," he said. "i'm good, i'm good." he stuffed his free hand into the pocket of his puffer jacket, shivering. "how was your day, hm? i missed you." "fine," you answered, keeping your phone to your ear by raising your shoulder, flipping your textbook to the next chapter you needed to read to complete an assignment. "just a lot of work to do. you know how sundays are. i missed you, too." "i know, baby." his hand left his pocket, using the side of his thumb to wipe his nose. "you know, i'm happy to hear that you missed me, because i'm outside." you raised your head, alarmed, eyebrows knit in confusion. "what do you mean you're outside?" "i mean that i'm outside." "outside where?" "your window." his laugh was masked with a cough. "shit—it's really cold out here, baby." he muttered, looking around at the street lamps, his car parked some distance away. your room was on the lower floor of your family's home; the window on the side of the house and had some height to it, but not enough to ward off seunghyun's idea. so here he was, acting on it.
you hurriedly closed your bedroom door. "are you crazy!?" you whispered. "it's freezing outside! how long have you been out there?" "about ten minutes," seunghyun's tone was calm, as if it was just another day. "there isn't that much distance between your house and the street, but it took a while because i had to avoid the frozen over snow." "you're insane." you muttered. he smiled even wider. "let me see you, baby. c'mon. i miss you." you hung up the call. seunghyun watched the window before him, his upside down grin showing proudly when the curtains opened, revealing you. the snow crunched crisply underneath his feet, walking up when you unlocked and opened the window. "you're utterly insane," you said, resting your elbows on the windowsill, hearing him laugh. "its almost midnight. we both have class early tomorrow, and my parents could wake up at any moment!" you voice descended into a loud whisper. seunghyun waved his hand dismissively. "what did i tell you the other night? i'll drive you. you don't need to take the bus anymore." he spoke quietly, understanding the circumstance, even if he enjoyed teasing you. "you know what else you did the other night that you could've done now? call me." you retorted, but it was really hard to act upset. "you don't like my gesture?" he asked, not hiding his knowing smirk. "i'm saying you saw me two days ago, and you're seeing me every day before our anniversary." "i'd see you every hour in between, if i could."
you didn't have anything smart to say, so you succumbed to your flustered state. seunghyun, looking so princely in his puffer jacket with no beanie in sight, the distant cast of your nightside table lamp weakly illuminating his slightly reddened cheeks from the bitter cold, stepped closer. "give me a kiss and i'll go, baby. just needed to see you." your knees nestled onto the carpeted floors, your torso leaning out the window. seunghyun grabbed onto the ledge, hoisting himself onto the tips of his toes. it was enough for his head to be leveled with your bedroom, but not for long as his eyes fluttered closed to the feeling of your palms holding his face, bringing your lips to his in a tender, sweet kiss. his chin brushed against the ledge, tightening his grip when he re-connected the kiss, feeling his mouth thaw from the cold and ignoring how his under arms were beginning to burn. "can't last twelve hours without you." he murmured against your lips. "learn to." you whispered, kissing him back. "don't wanna." seunghyun took a quick breath when you kissed him one last time, the soft squeak of your lips parting making him feel light-headed.
he watched you in a daze when you returned to resting your elbows against the windowsill; you were as beautiful as a deity, so effortless with your allure. a content smile appeared on his face, eyes twinkling. "thank you, baby." his voice was smooth, turning his head to kiss your palm upon your fingers fixing his hair. he slowly let go of the ledge, paying no mind to how his palms ached. he glanced below him, "i'm sure if i bring a step stool big enough, it'll be no problem next time—" "—next time?" seunghyun looked up. "what? you don't want there to be a next time?" he asked, that goddamn teasing lilt in his voice. "i . . . i do." you spoke so sweetly, he thought he could muster the strength to jump inside. "but at least tell me ahead of time so you won't freeze to near fucking death."
seunghyun kept his word, because the night after your anniversary, he was back outside your window equipped with a step stool. thus began your very risky sneaking around: his arrival at your window at around 10 pm (or thirty minutes later if you went on a date, giving you enough time to return home without suspicion over where you've been, shower, and get ready for bed; either way, he was waiting for your signal of opening the curtains), speed walking to your window after locking his car, step stool in the other hand, climbing into your room after you opened your window, and settling beside you in bed. you spoke in the quietest of whispers, giggled into each other's shoulders, and shared delicate kisses. other times, you brought out your portable dvd player, snuggling into his chest whilst his arms wrapped around you. "my baby. my beautiful girl." he murmured into your supple skin before planting kisses on your forehead, laying his head atop yours. you two read the subtitles in peaceful silence—not daring to raise the volume—either fighting sleep or keeping awake with each other's lips.
he usually left at around one, but one night on the cusp of four months together, both of you fell asleep. you stirred awake, feeling the dvd player lodged uncomfortably underneath your thigh, gradually turning onto your side. seunghyun was in sound slumber, breaths coming in quiet, but curt whistles. your room wasn't completely dark, squinting at the lamp you forgot to turn off next to your bedside digital clock. you jolted awake upon seeing the time: 4:17 AM. "oh my god—" you murmured to yourself, yanking the duvet off of you and getting up in a panic. you turned to seunghyun's sleeping state in utmost dread, remembering he's a deep sleeper, and its a battle to wake him up. "fuck!" you whispered. you tried to think of something, lifting to the duvet further, spotting his ipod and wired headphones. you grabbed it, seeing it there was still half charge. you turned seunghyun's head upright, lodging the headphones in his ears. you scrolled through his library briefly, turning the dial to amp up the volume. "i'm sorry." you whispered apologetically, clicking play.
he stirred awake, sitting up on his elbows, headphones falling out of his ears. "whhaa—" "seunghyun? seunghyun, baby? its four in the morning." you whispered. he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. "its four am?" he mumbled, voice riddled with slumber, sounding lower than usual. "yes, baby," you whispered, the bed dipping next to him as you sat. "we fell asleep. i—i don't think my parents came in. but you have to go home." "i know. i know, baby." seunghyun mumbled, pushing the duvet off his jeans. "just—just give me a moment." "thank you." your hand lay on his cheek, bringing the closer one to your lips. seunghyun puckered his lips, still lost in his lingering sleep, humming lowly in satisfaction when he felt your chaste kiss. he climbed out of bed, leaving his ipod behind, stuffing his feet into his shoes by the window. you unlocked it, hearing him yawn, his palm covering his mouth. "i'll come back at ten." he told you, more awake than before. "okay." you spoke softly, entering his usual embrace, your arms wrapping around one another. "i'll see you then. call me when you get home." "i will, my beautiful girl." his breath was hot against your temple—your height only barely reaching his shoulder—pressing a kiss onto your skin before you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. his thumb kept your chin in place, kissing you back. "i love you, baby." "i love you too, seunghyunie." with that, he climbed out of your window. he grabbed the step stool, walking to his car. the sunrise peered over your neighborhood, only to be shunned out with the closing of your window and drapes. it wasn't until you tucked the dvd player and his ipod away in your nightside drawer did you realize . . . wait . . . we just said i love you.
weekends are typically reserved for dates which largely consist of getting coffee, taking the train into the city to visit museums (and seunghyun nudging his forehead into your temple shyly whenever you lock your arm with his), or passing time walking throughout the mall; looking through various shops and boutiques with your hand in his (and him keeping his gaze on the kay jewelers for a little longer than he intended), sitting next to you as opposed to across during dinner, and ending the night by making out in the backseat of his car. your hand on his cheek, his on your thigh; tongues in fair play. you broke the kiss to look at the small analog clock on his dashboard, biting your bottom lip when his lips found their usual spot on your neck, barely hiding your whimper. "fuck." he muttered, moving to the other side of your neck. his hands rested on either of your hips, humming in content upon feeling your fingers find his hair. "s-seunghyun," you fought to keep your eyes open. "it's 11:10. i have to go inside." "your parents can wait five more minutes." he said. the feeling of his voice vibrating against your skin made your eyes roll back, thighs rubbing together. a small gasp reverberated through the car when seunghyun started running his tongue repeatedly over a spot of your warm skin, sucking and popping off of it. "i really have to go inside—" "—at least let me finish this, baby. the last one healed too quickly." "o-okay," you let out a shaky breath, holding the back of his head, letting your eyes flutter closed. "don't make it too big." "i won't."
sundays were spent at the university library. you two are in your own worlds, sharing a spacious table with various pieces of coursework, required readings, and notebooks sprawled out in a way that only makes sense to your respective minds—seunghyun with his hood up, wired headphones in and reading glasses on. your pen cap between your teeth whilst you read the third of five passages for an upcoming essay you had due; back and forth between taking notes and highlighting lines. you didn't study together much during the week since your lectures did not align most days. but on the mornings where it did, neither of you having classes until the afternoon, seunghyun came over no matter the time he slept or if he was there the night previous, but neither of you studied. he meant it when he said he would spend every hour with you if he could, because he wakes up early just to be with you. it doesn't matter if its to fall right back asleep in your bed after your parents left for work at nine, he was there.
his personal favorites were early saturday afternoons (bonus points if you were going to a party later that night): him laying on top of you, his temple against your chest, taking a nap. he would fall asleep to the sound of you turning the pages of your book, coupled with the steady rise and fall of your chest. by the sound of his quiet snores, you started to feel sleepy by proxy. you would give in after nearly dropping the paperback book on his head, putting it aside on your bedside table. your hand reached down your side for his hand, fishing it out of the warm duvet to set an hour timer on his watch. you brought the pads of his fingers to your lips, kissing them softly before nestling in for your own nap, holding your baby close to you.
you loved and trusted each other to the point of peaceful co-existence. you and seunghyun were alone in the house one saturday evening; him in your room, you in the bathroom down the hall. you were going to a mutual friend's party to dually celebrate both her birthday and the end of finals week that night. your bedroom door was wide open, seunghyun overhearing the rustling of your makeup bag as his eyes looked through your shelf of cds. songs in a minor, alicia keys .... everyone else is doing it, so why can't we?, the cranberries .... b'day, beyoncé .... parachutes, coldplay .... his copy of pink floyd's dark side of the moon that he lent you a couple weeks ago .... grace, jeff buckley .... until he came across the miseducation of lauryn hill towards the front of the shelf, carefully pulling it out and opening the case. he placed the cd in your player on the shelf below, closing the lid and pressing play. he skipped to track 4, lowering the volume to have it blend seamlessly into the background, feeling content.
"seunghyun?" "yeah, baby?" he called back. he turned around, seeing you at the doorway, holding two eyeliner pencils in your hand. "which one: black or dark brown?" he walked over, taking the pencils from your hands, looking them over his palm. "hm. . ." he pondered with genuine thought. "this one is metallic," you pointed to the dark brown liner. "so it has a little shine to it." "i remember," seunghyun nodded. "you wore this one when we went for brunch a couple weeks ago. it looked really pretty." "thank you." you said quietly, glancing down at the carpet. you still felt flustered receiving his compliments, even nearly half a year into your relationship. "so the brown liner, then?" "mhm." "okay. thank you, my love." your hands reached up to his face, bringing him in for a quick kiss. "anything for you, my beautiful girl." said seunghyun, placing purposeful kisses onto your temple and cheek.
you took the liners from him, your sweet laughter ringing in his ears as his arms made residence around your waist, pulling you close to him. your arms took in his shoulders, giggling at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing a part of your exposed shoulder from the loose collar of your shirt. "my beautiful, beautiful girl." he murmured into your soft skin, kissing your lips once more. you loved how clingy he could be . . . though he would look like a deer in headlights, melting into a puddle of his own pride if it was pointed out. he loved being called seunghyunie. better yet, add "my" in front of that, and he'll have to take laps around the room. he's buried his head into your neck on many nights he snuck over, or even in his own bed, hiding his bashful state with incoherent mutterings of anything from "i'm going to go into heart failure early in my life" to "you make me lose all reason, and i love it."
you kissed him back, feeling his tongue collide with yours. seunghyun went in again, but you parted your lips, turning your head as a smile stretched across your face, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. "you're my big baby." you said sweetly, looking up at him. "my big, tall baby, seunghyunie. how's that, hm?" you erupted into a fit of giggles when seunghyun's forehead fell against your temple—a tell-tale sign that you hit the right bashful nerve—that, as far as seunghyun was concerned, sounded a whole lot like wedding bells. "baby . . ." he elongated his last syllable, voice so low it took a moment to understand. "see? you're already living up to the name." you said. your arms slid off the back of his shoulders, hands resting atop them as best they could whilst you held the liners, briefly standing on your toes to kiss his lips. "i have to go get ready." seunghyun's arms left your waist, resting on your hips. "i like the nickname." he admitted in a murmur. "i know." you nodded. "and i love you, too." "i love you so much." seunghyun couldn't help himself, lips peppering kisses onto the supple skin of your cheek, planting a final one on your lips.
one thing about seunghyun is he loves parties, but none more than being able to show you off. so when he's sat on one of the stools lining the host's kitchen island, you stood between his legs, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his are tenderly around your waist; hands traveling your lower back—he feels like the hottest shit because he's got the hottest fucking girl. he will unabashedly pepper sweet kisses onto your neck and cheek if you're talking to somebody, or press his cheek against yours as you people watch together from your spot in the kitchen; giggling amongst yourselves in a way that would make even a pessimist's heart begin to thaw. it tugs at his heartstrings even more-so when you find him later in the night after catching up with your friends, a little tipsy with your red solo cup in hand, making residence on his thigh. seunghyun carefully took the cup out of your hand after the drink sloshed around in the midst of your abrupt movement, setting it on the coffee table before his hands dotingly rubbed the side of your thigh, looking up at the love of his life. he's long past the point of caring when his friends are around seeing you squish his cheeks together, kissing the pout that forms on his lips with an extra loud "muah!" that can be heard in the few seconds between songs. he's actually the one pulling you into the small crowd of people dancing in the living room, swaying together to the music.
to seunghyun, he might have looked awkward dancing—but to anyone else who caught a glimpse either from squeezing their way through the crowd to get to the other side of the room, or if they just looked up: you and seunghyun looked smooth; complementary; on the same wavelength. it was one of those moments they would recall to your mini-me twenty years down the line, opening the anecdote with "i remember when your parents . . ." he brought his forehead to yours—earning him the flustered laugh he could get drunk on—bringing his lips to yours when you pulled him in by the rims of his beanie. you turned around afterward, pressing your ass against him, starting to dance again. seunghyun got the message. he followed your movements, arm wrapping around the front of your waist, leaning down to kiss your cheek upon feeling your hand reach back for his hair.
seunghyun played a large hand in improving your confidence, especially when it came to intimacy of any kind. you've come a long way from your posture stiffening when he put his arm around you in the movie theater; your ghost of a returned grip when he held your hand; or backing out mid-makeout on his couch because your face felt so hot, the movie paused and long-forgotten about, the dvd logo bouncing from one side of the tv to the other ("i-i'm sorry—" "—it's okay. come back here, you were doing so good.") it wasn't as if you were a brand new person, but he nurtured a different side of you to come out; honored he was the one deemed worthy enough to witness it. he fucking loved it when you were stood in your own corner at a party, feeling dizzy whenever yours hands traveled underneath the hem of his shirt and around his waist . . . holy fuck . . . and the way you kissed him afterward, so soft and slow, deliberate . . . you might as well make him a father right there.
the tension brewed over time. you may be learning things as you go, but you would be remised to not pick up on seunghyun's not-so-subtle ways. every time he readjusted his position in your bed, arms holding you, you felt his hand traveled just a little lower down your hip. his lips kissed your cheek before returning his attention to space documentary he picked up from blockbuster before sneaking over, reading the captions on the portable dvd player propped up atop the duvet. he thought he was being slick. but when the documentary inevitably ended, and you inevitably pulled him into your lips to make him stay longer, his hand slipped underneath, squeezing your right globe. he'll never forget your sharp inhale, or how hard you kissed him in return.
or when you were stood in line at the mall food court (yes, you read that correctly), his fingers holding yours. he was being so sweet and flirtatious, looking at you with an admiring grin whilst you read the menu. he went back and forth between laying his hoodie-clad head atop yours, kissing your cheek, or leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you saw in your periphery how he would stare and stare both longingly and knowingly. you didn't give in, until you couldn't hold it in anymore, failing horrendously at hiding your upside-down grin. "what?" you nudged his bicep with your shoulder, hearing him chuckle. "i'm just looking." he responded, voice smooth. you tsked, shaking your head. "you don't make any sense." his kiss to your temple brought your gaze back to him, looking up when he rested his forehead against yours. "that's because you take all of it from me." seunghyun lined the side of his nose with yours, bringing his lips to yours. he's done this countless times before, but it was how his lips lingered for a second or two that made all the difference . . . how they parted so slowly and deliberately . . . it made you think oh . . . this man may very well want me to have his baby! it wouldn't be far-fetched either, since on your four month anniversary, he told you he was ready to introduce you to his parents after your third date.
then came those saturday mornings . . . or mornings where neither of you had class until the afternoon . . . when you got up from bed, and he sees your shorts have ridden completely up your thighs in your sleep . . . how fucking delectable they look. your back is turned to him as you stretch your arms out and yawn, but seunghyun's stare is unabashed and hard. it starts as a sideways glance, like he doesn't want to get caught. but then he sees how they jiggle with every minute movement . . . he's enamored. he turns onto his side fully, studying how your cellulite adorns your skin so specifically . . . then his palms start to tingle, wanting to reach out and feel you in his hands. but all he does is cast his hand against your crisp bed sheets, wrinkled where you laid just moments ago. seunghyun then notices the slight sheen of your skin when you step into the sunlight pouring in from the window; the remnants of your moisturizer you apply before you sleep, he was sure. this is what makes his teeth rake against his bottom lip, quickly glancing up to see if you were still turned around, which you were. then came those imperfections he wanted so badly to kiss, to linger his tongue over: the small, translucent forever-bruise on the side of your left thigh that never healed; standing in a crowded train after spending the day with each other in the city, temporarily squished against the arm rest of a seat to make room for incoming passengers. your fucking tan line from your go-to denim shorts you wore during the summer jesus christ . . . and how some of your stomach spilled over your shorts, the thick curvature of your body akin to a fucking goddess's. what he would do to be trapped between them . . .
"i'll be right back." your voice took him out of his trance, seunghyun looking up to see you opening the bedroom door, walking to the bathroom down the hall. "okay, baby." his voice was gravely, clearing his throat afterward. seunghyun turned onto his back. he lifted the duvet, peeking underneath to see the bulge in his sweats. he let out a disbelieving huff, running his hands over his face. it's not even ten am yet. he thought to himself. it should be no surprise that when you came back into bed, his lips made residence on yours, hand slipping by your hip and grabbing your ass. seunghyun stopped periodically to place kisses on your chest, or moving the strap of your cami to trace the tip of his tongue along your stretch marks lining your shoulder before kissing them, too. "wanna try something new, baby." he murmured against your skin. "okay," you said, fingers brushing his hair back, watching as his lips returned to your chest. "what is it, seunghyun?" "wanna put these in my mouth—'nd taste you."
you nodded, hair rubbing against your pillowcase. "o-okay," your voice fell to a whisper, the birds chirping outside rivaling your volume. "go ahead, seunghyun." he lifted his head, kissing you. "tell me if it's too much, okay?" "i will." you said, kissing him. a shallow breath left your chest as his lips traveled down your chest. he's fondled your breasts before—in the backseat of his car, and when the portable dvd player is mere background noise, but nothing could have prepared him for now your left breast recoiled when he tugged that side of your cami down. it was so perky, so cute; happy to see him. he captured your areola in his mouth, running his warm tongue over it slowly. he's never heard you gasp like that before. "s—seunghyun!" you barely breathed, shuddering oxygen in and out. he quickly detached—"is it too much—" "—no, no! keep—keep going!" you whimpered, pushing the back of his head back down. he sucked with bliss, readjusting himself when you arched your back, his other hand kneading your right breast. he tugged that side of your cami down, showing that nipple less mercy than the other. "f-fuck!" you gasped, hand coming up to your mouth. "yes, yes! oh my god, seunghyun!" your body squirmed, thighs enclosing around his waist. he needed to move on. if he didn't, he was going to ruin his sweatpants.
he popped off of your hardened nipple gently, bringing his lips to yours. you latched onto him with needy fervor, kissing him quickly. "i'm gonna eat your pussy, okay baby?" he spoke against your lips. you whimpered into his mouth, eyebrows turning upward in desperation, hands holding onto the back of his shoulders. "gonna take care of you. tell me if you want to stop." "o—ngh!—okay." seunghyun pushed the duvet off the both of you, making his way down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. he stood on his knees as he pulled your shorts and underwear off, discarding them on his usual side of the bed. his hand slid down your left thigh, fingers running over that small bruise. he leaned down, pressing a kiss. he moved a couple of inches down the bed, settling his knees onto the carpeted floor, propping the upper-half of his body up with his elbows. you separated your legs. his tongue ran over his bottom lip, mouth watering.
he kissed the inner parts of your thighs, trailing where you needed him most. seunghyun wasted no time after that, plunging his tongue between your puffy folds. oh . . . you tasted good. the sensation was indescribable for you—a curt gasp all you could muster those first few seconds, palm covering your mouth as you devoured the unbelievable sight below you. your eyebrows were so deeply furrowed; a choked moan leaving your diaphragm as his tongue explored your divine essence. seunghyun separated your lips with his pointer and middle finger, trying to find that sweet bundle of nerves. he placed his tongue higher than before, taking note of your gasp. he pushed his head in deeper, knowing he was coming closer when your thighs brushed against his ears. seunghyun hit the jackpot when he pushed in a little deeper, arms quickly wrapping around your waist to keep you as still as he could when your body jolted, thighs closing in on him, effectively putting him in a still-moveable headlock. "o—oh m-my god—ngh! hngh!" you moaned helplessly. "s-seunghyun!" you cried, fingers disappearing into his hair, tugging. "feel good, baby? that feel good?" he asked quickly, voice muffled, not liking going mere seconds without you on his tongue. "y-yes! keep—keep—"
you couldn't finish your sentence, but he needed no further instruction. he nursed your clit unabashedly, his hand reaching up and kneading your right breast. "s-seunghyun, i'm gonna—i feel—" your breathing was heavy, eyes squeezed shut. "cum in my mouth." was all seunghyun said. your legs opened abruptly, back arching higher than before as your orgasm washed over your entire body. seunghyun kept working your clit, popping off of your sweet pussy through your delicate moans and mewls. he swallowed whatever you gave him, humming into you in satisfaction, relishing in how you breathily whined his name. he gradually latched off with tongue-led kisses, palming himself through his sweatpants. he left your pussy swiftly when he felt a wet patch, looking down to see that he, indeed, ruined his sweatpants.
then came a week later, when you made love for the first time at eleven am on a fucking tuesday morning. "breath for me." he told you gently, positioning his condom wrapped tip between your soft, puffy lips. "in," he inhaled through his nostrils, you mimicking. "and out." you exhaled together. he kissed your divine lips, hand coming up and holding your cheek. "my beautiful girl," he whispered. "i love you so much." "i love you too." your hands held the back of his neck, kissing him back. "this might hurt a little. we have all the time in the world. we'll take it easy." his lips pressed against your cheek, hearing your gentle "okay." he slowly pushed himself in, stopping halfway when you held tightly onto his shoulders. "f-fuck, ngh! it . . . it hurts." you whispered. "i know, i know baby." he low voice cooed, his hand holding your cheek, bringing the one closest to him to his lips. "keep going. slowly." "i will."
he thrusted slowly with half of his cock inside of you, listening to your every breath. "any better?" he whispered. he sucked in a tight breath, feeling how tight you are. "a . . . a little. try adding more each time." "anything for you." he kissed your temple, following your words. silence filled the room, nothing but the slight creak of your bed frame, shaky breaths, and rustling of the duvet against the linen. seunghyun's ears perked up when he heard a quiet moan, feeling your nails starting to dig into his bare shoulder. "s-seunghyun . . . m-more." "which one? faster or deeper, baby?" "deeper." you said, voice breathy. your eyebrows twitched as you were mostly adjusted, bottom lip captured between your teeth as he stretched you out. "mmf!" you yelped. "does—f-fuck—that feel g-good?" seunghyun was losing himself in you, struggling to keep his mind clear. "y-yes!" you moaned. "g-go faster, seunghyunie. p-please." "god fucking damn—f-fuck, baby!" he mewled, moaning into your ear. "you feel so fucking g-good, oh my god!" the rest of that morning was a haze of grunts, sweat, and chanting each other's names like prayers. to think you were in your intro to international democracies lecture not even four hours later was obscene.
neither of you trusted yourselves to keep quiet when he came over, but that doesn't mean you at least tried . . . albeit, over the phone. "you drive me fucking crazy, baby—fuck!" his phone fell from his ear, his free hand quickly grabbing it, his other showing little mercy to himself. you could hear the wet, slick sounds of his cock from your side of the line, your thighs trapping your wrist between your legs. "the—the way you—hngh!—l-looked at me from over your shoulder, the way you sounded when i fucked you from b-behind." he spoke into the phone lowly. "you looked so beautiful, and felt so f-fucking good. did it feel good baby, hm? did it feel good when i pounded that sweet pussy?" "s-seunghyun—" you sounded so delicate, so fragile. "i—ngh!—i n-need you so bad. i can't take it anymore." he heard your shaky gasp, sure you were close. "tell me, baby. i know you're close, i can hear it." he moaned hearing you whimper at his words, feeling the knot in his abdomen begin to unravel. "t-tell me—s-shit!—i-i'm, i'm close t-too. tell me, baby. you know you can tell your seunghyunie anything, right?"
when that wasn't enough (it never was), you took it to the backseat of his car. it was an unspoken rule; nonverbal pattern of events when he was to drop you home, but that something was in the air and could not go unaddressed—like the night of your friend's birthday party. he unlocked his trunk, folding the backseats forward to allow enough room for you to lay on your back. in your defense, you tried to keep quiet. you really did . . . considering it was well past one in the morning, your house was one measly block away, and your neighborhood was very much a quiet suburb. but the car was shaking, your toes pressed against the rear windshield, and his hand was slipping off the steaming window. if anyone walked by—universe help your neighbor that worked late shifts and walked his dog at this hour—a vague, passive aggressive memo in the neighborhood newsletter would certainly find you.
the torn condom wrapper fell between the seats, lost in a reach-less nook of the car as seunghyun fucked you deep and good. the sound was wet and mind-numbing, the heel of your left foot resting on his lower back whilst he pummeled you. "f-fuck! just like that, just like that!" you gasped, your moan sounding intoxicatingly needy, fingers rummaging aimlessly through his hair. seunghyun was a sweaty mess, his hair sticking to his forehead as he boiled in his long sleeve. but he could not have given less of a fuck. you felt fucking divine. he needed this, every last second, every last drop. your gummy walls and puffy lips were a blessing he would thank whatever higher force that existed out there for the rest of his life. "just like that? yeah?" he grunted, looking down at the scene, watching his cock disappear and reappear. "s-such f-fucking good pussy—fuck!"
there's a digital camera you both share (he bought it for you for your one year anniversary), housing the archive of your relationship. there's tons of photos on numerous sd cards: a photo of you two kissing in front of a mirror, the camera covering your mouths even after seunghyun's hilariously laborious attempts at angling it correctly, photos of you looking so effortlessly beautiful in your bed; elbow propped on your pillow, palm holding your cheek, the glow of the portable dvd player evident on your face, or one you took of him in his bed after you imitated his low laugh which made him laugh even harder, photos of seunghyun climbing through your window with a shy, unexpected smile on your face or looking cool driving his car, lots of photos with friends, and at parties; one in particular of him pretending to eat your cheek and your wide smile, drink in hand. he can hear your laughter whenever he looks at it.
several months after your two year anniversary, seunghyun found himself at the mall. he was free for the rest of the day whilst you were in for another two lectures. but, of course, he was picking you up for dinner that evening. he perused for your graduation gift; settling for a perfume, a book by your favorite author, and two cds of musicians you loved. like clockwork, his eyes found and stayed on kay jewelers. but unlike before, he walked in. he found the engagement rings with ease, even going as far as to tell the consultant that he was thinking about getting married. however, seunghyun didn't walk out with a ring. he figured well, we should graduate first . . . get jobs . . . move in together . . . and then talk about marriage. he's been locked in since your first kiss, but that's besides the point. but there's no harm in starting to save up for that ring, is there . . .
honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf, @infinetlyforgotten
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trashytracktales · 3 months ago
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I need lando ANGST. Make me cry! But also smut! Goshhhh I need it. Something like they’ve been distancing each other and things have been so tense and one day lando catches reader getting herself off so he says ‘if you wanted me to fuck you all you had to do was ask.’ And then he ruins here. But lots of angst in the beginning. Ty I love you xx
Endings, beginnings | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Well. I was sobbing while writing this. Hope you're proud of yourself 💔
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𐙚 summary ──── They’re at a breaking point in their relationship, their stubbornness and jealousy pushing them so close to the edge. After agreeing to distance each other during an exhausting triple header, Lando returns home unexpectedly to find her in his apartment, trying to cope with his absence.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, angst, smut, toxic dynamics, emotional distress, descriptive language, masturbation, oral & fingering ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, swearing, potential relationship breakdown.
𐙚 word count ──── 5.1k
𐙚 date ──── Dec. 12, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── This is my 10th work ayeee! Thank you guys so much for investing your time into reading my silly little stories, and for trusting me enough to bring your requests to life. I appreciate you a lot 🤍🎀
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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
IT'S LATE. THE kind of hour that turns Monaco into a still painting, muted and hollow, yet as breathtaking as ever.
Lando isn’t supposed to be home yet. The plan was to stay in Brazil for a couple more days after the race, but plans change when you're a professional overthinker. Somewhere between the chaos of three back-to-back races, he couldn’t stand the thought of another night in a hotel.
He needed to be in his own space so he could think.
The elevator ride to his floor seems like going on forever, his suitcase dragging heavily behind him, its wheels scratching aggressively against the polished floors the second he gets out of it. He’s expecting silence; an empty apartment, untouched, heavy with the ghosts of their last argument. But when he opens the door, the faint smell of her perfume hits him hard across the face, and his heart tightens.
His living room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a scented candle casting long shadows on the walls. A throw blanket is draped over the couch, and a half-empty mug of tea sits forgotten on the coffee table.
And then he sees her.
She’s curled up on the couch, wearing one of his oversized hoodies. Its sleeves cover her hands as she hugs her knees to her chest, her face partially hidden in the dim light of the room. Her hair is a little messy, and there’s a redness to her eyes that tells him she hasn’t been sleeping well — he knows he shouldn't, but he's glad he isn't the only one losing sleep over this. On a deeper level, it means they both care enough to let it consume them.
So, it has to count for something, right?
For a moment, he just stands there, staring. Then, the words spill out before he can stop them, or think of something else to ask, “Why are you here?”
Her head snaps toward him, her wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and guilt. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen in place.
She straightens slightly, pulling the hoodie tighter around herself. “Lan…” she blinks in amazement, her voice barely audible.
“I just asked you a question,” he says, sharper than he initially intended.
He's not usually like this. But considering how they left things before he had to go, Lando is entitled to ask questions. It was her suggestion to separate, and finding her here only messes with his head more.
“I… know. I'm sorry,” she looks away, her fingers tugging at the hem of the hoodie. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” his suitcase thuds against the floor while he fixes his eyes on her. “Why are you in my apartment? We said we’d take some time apart.”
Her shoulders hunch defensively, but her voice remains the same as he knows it — soothing, carrying so much tenderness that it could stop wars. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Lando exhales harshly, nodding while dragging a hand through his curls. “We agreed on space, remember?” he insists, “You can’t just show up here like nothing happened.”
“I didn’t—show up,” she snaps, her tone suddenly sharper. “I’ve been here for a while. I didn’t know you were coming back so soon,” she repeats.
“Okay, then. Let me get this straight. You're here, but you don’t answer my texts anymore,” he fires back. “Does that make any sense to you? ‘Cause it sure as hell doesn't for me.”
“I was going to,” she retorts, standing now, the oversized hoodie swallowing her frame.
Lando takes a step forward, his hands on his hips. “I don't understand you. I thought this was what you wanted,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Space. Time. A chance to figure out if we even work anymore.”
“Yes,” the girl agrees, “I wanted to figure us out, not pretend we don’t exist.”
Lando's voice rises, his frustration spilling over, “You think I’m pretending? I’m doing what I thought you wanted! Because every time we’re together, we just end up—”
“Fighting,” she finishes bitterly. “Yeah, I know. Do you think I enjoy feeling like this all the time?”
His shoulders slump slightly, the fight draining out of him. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now. “I don’t know what to think or do anymore.”
They stand there in silence, the weight of their shared frustration pressing down on them. She sits back down on the couch, clasping her hands on the edge of it.
When she finally speaks again, her voice cracks. “I don't want to fight, Lando. I’ve been staying here because I couldn’t be in my own place. Everywhere I looked, I saw you. I thought maybe if I stayed here, it would make sense to feel your presence, because it's your place.”
Lando’s jaw tightens as he lets her words sink in. The sight of her, wearing his clothes with tears in her eyes makes his chest ache. He wants to wrap himself around her and make sure nothing will ever hurt her again, but the ego works a double shift tonight.
Still, “I'm not mad that you're here,” he clarifies. “But why didn’t you tell me?” asks Lando quietly.
“I didn’t think it would make a difference,” she whispers. “I planned to leave before you… Well, it doesn't matter now.”
“See, that right there is the fucking problem. Of course it matters! Why wouldn't—”
“Because!” her firm voice interrupts him. “We keep hurting each other, and I honestly don’t think we'll ever stop. You’re stubborn and selfish, and I’m jealous, and we both jump to the worst conclusions about each other all the fucking time.”
Lando sighs, “Right,” he says after a pause, his voice laced with guilt. “I am stubborn and selfish,” he agrees, “I get angry too fast. Is that it? And you—you think I’m always looking for a reason to leave.”
Her breath catches as she looks down at a random point on the floor. “Aren’t you?”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He steps much closer, his voice firm. “No. I’m not. But you make it so damn hard to stay sometimes.”
He regrets his words the second they leave his mouth. He's aware that she's not the only one to blame for the situation that they're in, but at the moment, he's making it seem that way. He can't look at her hurt expression, so Lando closes his eyes for a second, a long silence settling in the distance dug so deeply between them.
She continues to look at him, anger flaring in her eyes. “Yeah, well, you make it hard to trust you, Lando. Every time you’re away, I feel like I’m waiting for the other bomb to drop.”
He finally opens his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, what do you want from me, hm?” he asks. “I don't know what you expect me to do.”
Her voice breaks as she replies, “I don't have any expectations left. I just want to stop feeling like I’m losing you all the time.”
Lando’s face softens, the exhaustion from weeks of racing and months of fighting etched into every line. He steps closer, slowly, until he’s standing in front of her. He crouches down so they’re eye level, his expression conflicted.
Even as hurt as she is now, he is still amazed by her beauty. Gazing down at him, she spreads her legs gently so she could make more room for him in her space. However, she's doesn't dare to touch him, no matter how badly she needs to feel him, just to remind herself that he's real.
“I'm so fucking tired, baby,” says Lando, his voice breaking slightly. “Aren’t you tired?”
She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Every day, especially when you're not here,” she chokes out. “But I still want to try. God, Lando, I can’t imagine not trying.”
His hands reach for hers almost instinctively, but he acts with the same hesitation, pulling back at the last second. She notices, the flicker of hurt on her face evident in the way she squeezes her eyes shut, only to erase that image from her memory.
They sit in silence for a while, the air thick with unresolved issues and the weight of everything they can’t say. He studies her, trying to think ahead, but it’s impossible when she's like this — indecisive and lost.
Finally, Lando stands up, exhaling sharply. “I need a shower,” he mutters, heading toward the bathroom without another word.
She watches him go, her heart sinking. She’s still here, but somehow, it feels like she’s further away from him than ever. All she wants to do is jump into his arms and tell him she's missed him so much these past few weeks. Tell him how much she loves him, and that she would do anything to see him happy and satisfied with their life together. But she's too far away, and if she doesn't jump high enough, she could find herself free-falling, with no one to catch her on the other side. And that's too much of a risk, even for her.
When Lando comes back, his hair damp and his expression unreadable, she’s standing by the window, looking out at the city lights.
She doesn’t turn when he approaches, but she speaks softly, her voice small. “Do you even want me here?”
Lando freezes, her question cutting deeper than he expects. After a long pause, he answers, his voice low. “Of course,” he says. “But I honestly don’t think it's a good idea.”
She finally turns to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “Yeah…” the girl nods slowly. “I just—Lando. I can’t keep doing this if I’m the only one who believes we can make it.”
Lando nods. “Thing is, I don't know what to believe anymore,” he says honestly, his voice steady.
A simple truth that neither of them wants to acknowledge. But even as the words hang in the air, neither of them moves to leave. Because for all the pain, there’s still something tethering them together — something they’re both terrified to lose.
“I’ll take the couch,” he finally says, tugging the throw blanket off the armrest. His voice is flat, drained of the emotion that had filled it earlier.
“What?” she asks, startled.
“You can have the bed,” he clarifies, avoiding her gaze as he starts arranging the blanket. “It’s late. We’re both tired, and this… we can’t fix this tonight. We should rest and talk it out in the morning.”
She opens her mouth to protest, the words forming instinctively, but then she stops herself. He looks so tired, not just physically but emotionally. His shoulders are tense, his jaw set in that stubborn way she knows so well. He’s trying to create the space she's been asking for — not because he doesn’t care, but because he does.
“Okay,” she ends up saying, her voice small. Defeated. Once again.
At that, Lando turns to meet her eyes, his expression serious, almost distant. It’s a side of him she doesn’t see often, the version of Lando that’s careful and guarded. She hates it, hates the way it makes her feel like a stranger to him. But mostly, she hates that she’s the one who’s brought this out in him.
“Goodnight,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a finality that makes her stomach churn.
Alright then.
“'Night,” she replies, walking past him, their arms touching lightly.
She retreats to his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. The familiar scent of him — clean, musky, intoxicating but soothing, grounding her with its quiet presence and making her feel more at home than ever — wraps around her as she crawls into the bed they’ve shared so many times before. But it feels different now, colder, emptier. Foreign, somehow.
For a stupid, silly moment, she lets herself believe that things will be okay in the morning. That they’ll talk, really talk, and find a way back to each other. She clings to that thought as she stares up at the ceiling, her fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. But no matter how hard she tries, she can't shake the feeling that this is it.
Neither of them sleeps for hours after that.
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IT'S FOUR IN the morning when Lando lies on the couch, his eyes fixed on the darkened ceiling as his thoughts race. He can hear the faint creak of the bed when she shifts, knowing she's not asleep, either, and it tugs at something deep inside him. He’s never been good at leaving things unfinished, and this is no different.
He pushes himself up from the couch for what feels like the hundredth time, his fingers curling and uncurling in frustration.
Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.
Maybe he shouldn’t have come home.
Maybe this is exactly why they need space, because when they're in each other's proximity, he simply can't think straight. Especially when she's just a few feet away, separated by only a simple door.
A door that masks the sounds of her soft cry.
Then, he hears the same faint sound, broken, but unmistakable. It cuts through his doubts like a knife through butter, sending a sharp pang of guilt and something deeper, a lot darker, straight to his chest. He hesitates for only a moment before moving toward the bedroom, his steps careful, almost hesitant. His hand hovers over the door, his heart pounding against his ribs as he takes a deep breath in.
Lando knocks softly, his voice barely louder than the quiet hum of the apartment. “Is everything okay?”
Nothing.
He knocks again, his jaw tightening.
The silence presses against him, thick and suffocating, until he can’t take it anymore. He twists the knob and pushes the door open, his pulse roaring in his ears as his eyes adjust to the dim light.
She’s sprawled on his bed, the sheets tangled around her hips, one hand clenched in the fabric while the other moves between her thighs. Her head is tilted back, her lips parted in soft, shaky gasps, and her eyes are squeezed shut like she’s trying to block out the rest of the world.
His throat goes dry, his emotions colliding in a chaotic storm of shock, desire, and something dangerously close to anger. Not anger at her — it never is — but at the situation, at the rift between them that’s left her seeking comfort this way. And at himself, for not being able to fix it.
He should walk away. He knows he should. But instead, he steps into the room, his movements slow and calculated as he crosses his arms over his chest, watching her intently.
Her eyes snap open, and for a moment, she looks utterly petrified. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson as she scrambles to sit up, her legs snapping shut as she fumbles for words.
“No, don’t let me interrupt you,” says Lando, his voice low and rough.
“You scared the shit out of me, Lando,” she stammers, her voice trembling. “I thought you were…”
Asleep.
“And I thought you were crying,” he says, wetting his lips. “Well, I was right in a way.”
The words hang heavy in the air, and she looks away, her hands twisting nervously in the sheets. He hates the way she shrinks under his gaze, but he can’t stop himself from taking another step forward. His jaw tightens again. He doesn’t know what to say or do, circling back to the same feeling.
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel, either — hurt, anger, longing?
So much lust.
The silence stretches between them until it’s almost unbearable. And then, finally, she moves, swinging her legs off the bed like she’s about to leave.
But he doesn’t let her.
His hand shoots out, grabbing her ankle and tugging her back toward the edge of the bed. Her gasp echoes in the quiet room, her wide eyes locked on his as he steps between her legs, his grip firm but not forceful.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, her voice shaky, a mix of uncertainty and... hope that she already knows the answer.
“Fuck if I know,” he admits. His hands slide up her thighs, spreading them apart again, and he drops to his knees in front of her. “But I can’t just… I can’t leave you like this.”
“Baby,” she breathes, her tone caught between a plea and a warning.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Please. I can't take this shit anymore.”
At the sound of his pleading, she reaches out, her fingers threading through his hair as her breath hitches. It’s all the permission he needs to press his lips to her warm entrance, soft and tentative at first, but when she arches into him, her body trembling beneath his touch, something inside him snaps.
Lando doesn’t hesitate once she gives in, her fingers tightening in his hair as her thighs tremble against his shoulders. His hands grip her legs, his touch firm but reverent, holding her open for him like he’s afraid she’ll change her mind.
The first swipe of his tongue over her slit is slow and deliberate, tasting her in a way that makes her breath hitch. He hums low in his throat, the vibration sending a shockwave through her that has her head falling back against the mattress.
“Lan…do,” her voice breaks on his name, a soft moan that sends a shiver down his spine.
“Always so sweet for me, love,” he exhales heavily, her scent intoxicating.
Lando's grip on her thighs tightens as he pulls her closer, his tongue moving with purpose now, circling her clit and flicking in a rhythm that makes her toes curl. The erotic sounds from between her legs make her close her eyes in pleasure, her pussy tightening around him with each intentional stroke of his tongue. He’s thorough, so meticulous, as though he’s trying to commit every whimper and every twitch of her body to memory.
“That's so good, Lan. Feels so good,” she lets out a string of moans, her eyes rolling as the air gets knocked out of her lungs. “Oh, god, I've missed your mouth so much.”
She traces her hand through his hair, holding him while her hips push forward, the bridge of his nose tickling her clit so sweetly. He wants to drown in her, to lose himself in the way she responds to him, every single time.
Each gasp feels like a lifeline, tethering him to something real, something he can hold on to when everything else feels so uncertain. Her fingers curl in his hair, tugging slightly as her hips begin to move against him, chasing the friction he so willingly gives. Lando's jaw clenches at the way she’s unraveling for him, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, more insistently, as he pulls out to suck gently on her clit.
“Baby, please,” she's almost crying, her voice shaky, but still cutting through the air like a plea for salvation. “Need you… so close.”
Lando doesn’t stop. He can’t. Especially not when her legs start to tremble against him, her breathing becoming erratic as she teeters on the edge. Instead, he slides one hand from her thigh to her hip, pressing her down slightly to keep her steady while his other hand moves swiftly to where he has been tongue-fucking her. His long fingers slide gently through her wetness, curling inside as he finds the spot that makes her see stars.
She feels herself opening wider for him, then clenching harder while he adds just enough pressure to make her body tense, his tongue never ceasing its rhythm.
“Lando, I—” her words dissolve into a broken moan, and he knows she’s close.
His heart pounds in his chest as he keeps going, the sound of his fingers fucking in and out of her pussy blending so beautifully with the noise of his tongue lapping at her clit. He doesn’t care how long it takes; he’ll stay between her thighs forever if he has to. He won't move again until she falls apart beneath him. For him. Maybe then Lando will understand why he needs her so much, why the thought of losing her feels like losing a piece of himself.
When she comes, it’s like the world stops from spinning. Her body tenses, her thighs trembling as she cries out his name, over and over again, her release washing over her in waves. He should pull out and give her time to ride out her orgasm, but his tongue and fingers coaxing her through it, making her gasp for another breath, is sending shocks of ecstasy to his hardened cock. In his desperate attempt to relieve his pain, he rubs himself against the bed, but it is not nearly enough.
Finally, when her hands are falling limply from his hair, that's when Lando slows down his movements. He presses soft kisses against her inner thighs as he pulls back slightly, his hands gently stroking her soft legs.
“You alright?” asks Lando, his voice raw.
She looks down at him, her chest heaving as their eyes meet. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, something that makes her throat tighten. His lips are swollen and glossy, his chin slick and glistening from her arousal. His breathing is as unsteady as hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’s just run a marathon. The sight of him like this — completely undone and yet so devastatingly composed — makes her stomach clench with need. More need.
“Mhm,” she manages, heat rising from her chest to her cheeks, while her hand involuntarily travels back between her own legs.
Lando slowly wipes the wetness from his chin with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving hers. The motion is deliberate, almost taunting, as if he wants her to remember every second of her high. Then he rises to his feet, his big frame towering over her as he leans forward, bracing himself on either side of her hips. Her breath catches as he hovers above her, so beautiful and wrecked, his face so close that she can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
She expects Lando to kiss her, her lips parting slightly in anticipation, but instead, he tilts his head and murmurs, his voice a low rasp that sends a shiver down her spine.
“If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask, baby,” his unfiltered voice makes her heart race in her chest. “I don’t care that we’re fighting. It doesn’t matter how tired I am,” he continues, his eyes dark and piercing as they lock onto hers. “I’ll stop anything, drop everything, just to fuck my needy girl, yeah?”
The bluntness of his words, paired with the raw intensity in his voice, leaves her momentarily speechless, the pads of her fingers collecting whatever is left from her release. She whimpers softly, her lips parting again as she brings her fingers to his, pushing inside his mouth while watching his pupils dilating. Lando sucks on them with the same thirst as earlier, biting softly when she tires to pull out. At that, something inside her snaps. She surges up, her hands gripping the back of his neck as she pulls him into a fierce, desperate kiss.
His lips are warm and soft, slick with the taste of her still lingering there, and she can’t help the way she moans into his mouth. He groans in response, deep and guttural, as his tongue slides between her lips, claiming her in a way that makes her stomach flip.
It feels like fire and desperation, like he’s trying to pour all of his frustration into one single kiss. When his tongue moves against hers, she whimpers, the sensation achingly familiar yet entirely overwhelming. It feels like he’s everywhere, like he’s consuming her from the inside out, and she doesn’t want it to stop. Ever.
“Lan,” she moans into his mouth, “Please…”
Her pleading seem to break something in him. Lando pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, his lips curling into a slow, crooked grin, making her realize how bad she's missed seeing it. There’s something tender yet profoundly sad in his expression, though, a quiet heartbreak that makes her chest burn.
“Please, what? Hm, what do you need?” he murmurs, his hand tracing a soft, reverent path down her body.
His fingers graze her collarbone, her ribs, her hip, each touch filled with a tenderness that feels almost out of place amidst the heat between them. But she doesn’t care about the sadness or the hesitation. Not right now. She arches into his touch, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she's whispering nonsense, too drunk on him to make more sense than that.
Lando’s breath mingles with hers, his lips brushing hers in the faintest of kisses as he whispers, “You aching for me, baby?”
Her nod is small, almost imperceptible, but he feels it, and his hand slips down to her hip, grounding her. The weight of his touch is familiar, comforting even, and it sends a tremor through her body that she doesn’t try to hide.
“Hurts so bad,” she admits, her voice cracking as her eyes meet his.
“I know,” he nods slowly, his voice thick with emotion. “Can I me make it better?”
“Always.”
He presses his lips to hers fully now, a slow, lingering kiss that feels like a balm against the ache between them. It starts soft, tentative, as if they’re testing the waters, but quickly grows deeper. His tongue sweeps across her bottom lip, and she opens for him, sighing into his mouth as he kisses her with all the longing, irritation, and so much love that he’s been holding back.
His hands move with purpose, sliding under the hem of her shirt — his shirt — and pushing it up, exposing her bare skin. She gasps as his palms graze her sides, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through her veins.
Lando pulls back just enough to tug the shirt over her head, his eyes darkening as he takes her in. “My beautiful baby,” he says, almost like he’s reminding himself that she still belongs to him and vice versa.
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she reaches for him, her fingers tugging at the hem of his own shirt. He helps her, pulling it off in one fluid motion before pressing his chest against hers, their bare skin meeting in a way that feels like coming back home after a long, tiring trip.
They move together like this, slowly shedding the layers between them until there’s nothing left but their bodies and the weight of everything they've done wrong.
He lowers her onto the bed, his lips never leaving hers as he settles between her legs. The warmth of his body, the solidity of him, makes her feel anchored, even as the storm inside her threatens to consume her. And when he enters her, it’s heaven, deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of her. She moans, her hands flying to his shoulders as he stretches her, filling her with his perfect length. He stills for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers as they both adjust to his size.
“Remember how easy it used to be?” he whispers.
She nods while his lips are brushing her temple. “Yeah. I remember.”
The first thrust is painfully slow, managing to pull a soft moan from her lips. But soon enough, Lando sets a rhythm, one that feels familiar, almost nostalgic, like they’re trying to recapture the simplicity of how things used to be. She matches him, her hips rising to meet his, their bodies moving together in perfect sync.
As the pace builds, so does the intensity and vulnerability between them. The kisses become messier, more desperate, and his thrusts deepen, driving into her with a force that feels like a mix of anger and love.
“I don’t want this to be the end,” he says suddenly, his voice cracking as her nails dig into his back, leaving crimson lines in their wake.
“No?” she asks, a little hesitant.
His movements falter for a split second before he recovers, his eyes locking onto hers. “God. No, baby,” he says, his voice thick with determination. “We can fix this. I swear we can.”
Tears well in her eyes, and she can see his own glistening in the obscure lighting. They’re both breaking, and yet neither of them wants to let go.
Lando thrusts harder now, the force of it making her cry out as her body arches beneath him. She meets him halfway, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulls him deeper inside her, as close as humanly possible. The room fills with the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other, their breathing, and their muffled cries.
“I need you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rush of their movements. “Like this, all the time. Only you.”
“You have me,” he replies, his voice breaking. “You’ll always have me, you know that.”
“Promise me,” she demands as she starts clenching around him, the heat building once again inside her.
Lando gasps at the feeling, fucking into her harder. “Shit, baby. I promise you. I promise.”
The weight of his words pushes her over the edge, her release hitting her harder the second time around. She cries out, tears streaming down her face as her body shakes beneath him. He follows moments later, his own climax tearing through him as he buries his face in her neck, his shoulders trembling with the force of it.
They stay like that, tangled together, their bodies molding into each other as they come down from the high. But the tears don’t stop. They cling to each other, crying softly as the reality of their situation crashes down on them.
“I love you so much,” he says, feeling her fingers tracing patterns on his back.
“I love you, too,” she admits without hesitation. “Do you think that's enough?”
Lando lifts his head, his eyes red-rimmed but full of a tentative hope. “No. But it's a start.”
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PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT
MASTERLIST
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© trashy track tales, 2024
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 months ago
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Mr. CEO
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➪the one where rafe is obsessed with you, his perfect wife who is always there for him when he comes home from work.
Warnings: rafe is a ceo of a made up company, smut, dirty talk, pussy whipped rafe, he eats you out from behind, oh yeah, swearing, unprotected sex, spanking, over-stimulation, fingering, oral (f receiving), size difference, age gap (not mentioned, but rafe is 27 and reader is 22), back door touching (that is all), multiple orgasms from both rafe and reader, biting, breeding kink (lowkey), i think that is it.
Word Count: 3.9k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 5.5K FOLLOWERS
Rafe has the perfect life. 
The dream job, dream house, and a dream wife. 
At just twenty seven years old, Rafe had more money than he’ll ever need in his life. A week’s worth of work earned him what most people would make in a couple years, which was kind of insane to him.
He never planned on joining the CEO lifestyle, but after his father got seriously sick and had to take an early retirement, thus having his son take over for him, Rafe was thrown head first into suits and briefcases and weekly meetings. While it was hard to adjust to his new title at Cameron Capital at first, he managed to gain control over everything and become one of the best damn CEOS in the city. 
At just twenty two, he had more money to his name than he ever thought he would, and a few years later he was making steady and much needed developments and deals, and then when he turned twenty six, he met you. 
You, of course are his dream wife, his love of his life, and his entire fucking world all wrapped up into one person. 
Rafe had been so busy for most of his twenties, he was sure he wouldn’t find someone to settle down with until maybe his mid-thirties, but then he met you, and he was head over heels. 
So much so, after knowing you for less than a year, he got down on one knee and proposed to you with the big, fat diamond ring you’ve been wearing on your finger ever since. A few months after that, you and he were married, and Rafe felt like his life was complete. 
He had his never-ending income, an amazing support system, and his forever girl. What else could he possibly need?
-
Rafe’s day started out really good.
He woke up to his perfect wife in his arms, your body still naked from the hour long fuck session you and he indulged in last night. And before he left for work, he fucked you for another half an hour and left you in the mess of sheets in pillows with a pretty, fucked out smile on your face. 
When he got to Cameron Capital, he was greeted by the overly flirtatious girl at the front desk who seemed to be oblivious to the big, golden wedding band Rafe hadn’t taken off since you slid it on his finger. But she made no move on him, and he was off to his office.
Then he was bombarded with paperwork and phone calls, and by the time it was noon, he wanted to call it a day and go back home to you. But he stuck it out, and eventually it became six in the evening, and he got to go home.
When he entered the house, he dropped his bag by the front door and loosened his tie, his eyes trailing over the bottom floor of the massive house he bought with you in mind. He found you in the living room, your body perched on the couch as you read through some files he asked you to go over that was for an upcoming development. You were so much smarter than him, Rafe trusted you with anything that involved paperwork. 
“There you are,” he hummed, a lazy grin forming on his face as he walked into the room, and he was greeted with the sight of you looking up at him with nothing but love and adoration in your eyes. 
Rafe dropped his tie onto the end table as you smiled at him, and he felt his heart tighten in his chest. You were so beautiful, so sweet, he still couldn’t believe you were all his. 
“Mmm, my gorgeous girl,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss you deeply before pulling away to return your pretty smile. “Fuck, I missed you today, baby.”
Your smile grew as you kissed him again, your focus quickly slipping from the papers scattered on the coffee table in front of you. “Yeah?” you grin, bumping his nose with yours as you lean back on the couch. “I missed you too.”
You reached out and took Rafe’s big hand in your small one, pulling him down onto the couch with you. As soon as he was next to you, your hands found his shoulders as you began to knead out the small knots you felt under his skin. 
“Hard day?” you asked, kneeling next to him as you worked on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. 
Rafe groaned, his eyes closing for a few seconds as your fingers pressed into his skin. “Mm, you have no idea,” he answered, turning his head to press another deep, lingering kiss to your lips. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek bone when he pulls away. “God, I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweet girl. You keep me grounded…keep me sane.”
You laugh quietly when his other hand finds your waist and pulls you until your body is on top of his. “That’s good,” you murmur, brushing your lips against his as your arms drape around his shoulders. “I like you sane.” 
Your fingers run over his prickly head, his recent decision to buzz off all his hair turning out to be a fucking amazing one since you were obsessed with it. Rafe had never seen you become that turned on so quickly than you did when he first walked into the bedroom after he got it done, and less than five minutes later, you were riding his cock with his face buried between your breasts and your hands running over his rough hair. 
“I’m sorry you had a hard day, baby,” you whisper, leaning down to press soft kisses to his jaw. “My poor husband…such a hard worker. But you’re a sexy hard worker, I’ll give you that.” 
Rafe grins, his hands coming up to squeeze your hips as he tilts his head back to look up at you. “You’re a tease, you know that?” he mumbled, running his nose along your jawline. “Touching me like this when all I’ve been thinking about today is burying myself in my sweet wife’s pussy.”
You let out a needy whine, giving a slow and subtle roll of your hips as you nip at his ear. “Really? Because all I’ve been thinking about is picking up where we left off this morning, but this time you fuck me even harder,” 
Letting out a deep grunt, Rafe’s hands move down to give your ass a firm squeeze before he stands up from the couch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries you towards the stairs. “You want it hard tonight, baby?” he huskily asks, his hands gripping you tighter as he ascends the staircase and heads straight for the bedroom. 
Your laugh of excitement had his slacks tightening as he pushed the door open and entered the room he shares with you. “Yes,” you answered, your lips brushing against his ear as your fingers unbuttoned his shirt as best as they could in your current position. “I wanna feel you everywhere…God, I’m already so wet for you. You’ve ruined me.”
Rafe grunted again before he tossed you onto the king-sized bed, shrugging off his shirt as he looked down at you with dark eyes. “I know I have,” he muttered, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his forearms braced by either side of your head. “I’m gonna fuck this tight little pussy, fill you up so fucking deep and ruin you for anyone else.”
You moan at both his words and the way his hand pushed up your shirt before sliding behind the waistline of your shorts to feel the wet patch on your panties. “Feel that, baby?” you purr, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you rubbed yourself against his hand. When he pulled his hand away and shoved your shorts down your legs, you whimpered and looked up at him with wide eyes. “I need you…need my husband.” 
You scratch your nails down his scalp before pulling back to lift your shirt over your head and toss it aside, leaving your top half covered only by your pretty lacy bra. “Fuck,” Rafe groaned, pulling down your bra to free your equally pretty tits. “You’re all mine, baby. These,” he grunted, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he palms your breasts. “Are all mine.”
He leans in and kisses you deeply, his hands sliding under you to unclasp your bra so it’s completely removed from your body. You bucked your hips against his, trying to create friction as his hands returned to your chest, and when he tugged at your bottom lip, you let out a needy moan.
“Such a desperate little thing for me,” he coos against your mouth before he pulls back and flips you onto your stomach, his big hand meeting your ass in a firm smack. “I’m gonna take my time with you tonight, baby…wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make for me.” he promised, hooking his fingers into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off. 
“Yeah?” you rasp, now completely naked as you wiggled yourself back against him, eagerly awaiting his next move. “What are you gonna do? Are you gonna put your mouth on me? Eat me out from behind?”
Rafe grins, running his hand along your reddened cheek before he delivers another sharp spank to it. “Is that what you want?” he asked, soothing your stinging skin with his palm before he lowered his head to take in the sight of your dripping center. “You want my mouth on this pretty pussy, sweet girl?”
You whined and nodded, subtly trying to push yourself back against him. “Yes…please,” you begged, looking over your shoulder at him. “Please.”
A second later, Rafe was burying his face between your thighs, licking a long stripe up your entire slit before he reached the cleft of your ass. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned, licking along your folds as he brings his left hand up to tease your clit. “So wet for me.” he praised, easily sliding two of his fingers knuckle-deep inside you and pumping them slowly. 
“Oh, fuck yes,” you gasped, shamelessly grinding back against his face and tongue as your head falls forwards. One of your hands fists the sheets as you wiggled back against him, your core desperately accepting each thrust of his fingers. “Fuck, your mouth is so good, baby.” you moaned, your other hand reaching back to grab hold of his head. 
Rafe hummed, his fingers pumping in and out of you faster as his tongue pokes out and circles your clit. “That’s it, baby, let me hear those sweet, sexy sounds you make for me,” he cooed, scissoring his fingers gently to stretch you out a bit more. His other hand reached around your body to palm one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching and pulling at your nipple. “You’re taking my fingers so well, sweet girl…such a good girl for me.”
His words made your head spin, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you bit down on your lip. “Oh, my God,” you whined, your hand pushing his head back towards your aching core with little force since he was already making his way back to your clit. “Wanna cum, Rae…please, make me cum.” 
Your arm was shaking a bit as you struggled to hold yourself up, and the waver in your voice had Rafe smirking as he kissed your clit. “Cum for me then, baby,” he encouraged, licking your clit again as his fingers sped up their pace. His thumb pressed against your untouched rosebud, not breaching it but applying a delicious pressure that had you shaking. “There you go, baby, let go for me. Cum all over my face.” he urged, feeling your inner walls tighten around his fingers. 
Your whole body begins to shake and tremble, your eyes rolling back as you pull your hand away from his head to assist your other one in holding you up. “Fuck…fuck, yes, Rafe,” you moaned, your body tensing up as you cum for him. 
Rafe groaned, his fingers becoming more slick with your release as he continued to fuck them in and out of your sopping core. “Mm, that’s my good girl,” he praised breathlessly, placing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh before he pulled his fingers out of you slowly. He brings them up to his mouth to clean your sweet taste from his skin, his cock twitching painfully in his boxers as he uses his free hand to rid himself of the rest of his clothes. 
He rises up behind you, one of his hands gripping your hip while his other reaches around to cradle your stomach possessively. His dick was rock-hard as he grinds it against the cleft of your ass, letting you feel just how badly he needs you. 
“I need to fuck you, baby,” he muttered, letting you reach around and guide his cock through your folds, coating it in a thin layer of your arousal. “Need to feel this tight, sweet pussy wrapped around me.”
You were still shaking a little as you looked over your shoulder at him, grinding your sensitive core along his cock. “I need you too,” you whispered, jolting a bit when his tip brushed against your clit. Your hands went back to the sheets, and you fisted them as you held his intense gaze. “Fuck me, Rae. I need you so bad.”
Rafe hummed, his cock nudging against your entrance as he ran his palm along your belly. Without wasting another second, he thrust himself inside you, your wetness and previous orgasm allowing him to bury himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. “Fuck yeah, you’re so tight for me,” he grunted, setting a deep, hard pace as he drives his cock in and out of your soaked pussy, his lips brushing against your ear. “So fucking wet, baby…fuck.”
His hand tightens around your hip and holds you in place as his other one slides up your body, teasing your tits before it finds your throat. He wraps his fingers around your neck, applying a faint pressure as he pounds into you from behind. “Fuck yes,” you moaned, your body jolting forward with each deep thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, only adding to the intimate and steamy atmosphere as you fist the sheets tighter and let out gasps and whines. “Harder…harder, Rae.”
Letting out a harsh grunt, Rafe tightened his hold on you and began fucking into you harder. His hips meet your ass over and over again with every brutal thrust, his cock reaching impossibly deeper in you every time. “You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you? My sweet girl who needs to be fucked hard by her husband, huh?” he mocked, but his voice wasn’t condescending, just full of lust for the perfect woman he got to call his wife. 
His hand tightens a little more around your throat, feeling your pulse jump under his palm as his thumb pressed against your jaw. Rafe leaned down and pressed his mouth to your shoulder, his teeth gently sinking into your skin to mark you as his in another way, and it only made you moan louder. 
“You’re mine, all mine,” he breathed out next to your ear, his hand sliding from your hip to grope your tits, tugging and pinching your nipples as he leaned over you. His body covered yours completely, encasing you in his embrace and filling your senses with nothing but the deep, intoxicating scent of his expensive cologne you love so much. 
“God, yes,” you cry out, squeezing around him tightly as the bed softly creaks under your joined weight. “All yours, baby…God, you feel so fucking good.”
Your soft cries were music to Rafe’s ears as he felt you pulse around him, his thrusts increasing even more. “That’s it, baby, squeeze me just like that,” he murmurs, placing both his hands on your hips as he pulls you back against him to meet his thrusts halfway. “Cum for me, sweet girl. Cum all over my dick like a good girl.”
His words send shivers all throughout your body, and a few seconds later you felt the knot that had been steadily forming in your stomach begin to tighten. “Oh, God,” you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as your head fell forward. A long, loud, moan left your lips as you let go and came for him for the second time, coating his pulsing cock in your sweet, slick release. 
Rafe groaned deeply as he felt you spasm and clench around him, your high washing over you and coating his throbbing dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he said breathlessly, burying himself deep inside you one more time before he came too. He stills, filling you up as harsh pants leave his mouth and a thin layer of sweat settles on both yours and his skin. He leaned over you, his chest meeting your back as he peppers your neck and shoulders with soft kisses, slowly and gently rocking into you. “God, I love you so much.”
You whimper softly, leaning your head back on his shoulder as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you with gentle thrusts. “I love you too,” you sigh, your eyes still shut as you try to catch your breath. “I love when you keep fucking me even after you’ve cum…so fucking hot, Rae.” 
One thing about your relationship was that neither of you ever sugar coated things, and both of you had really dirty mouths. It was like that from the very beginning, and it only added fuel to the fire that was forever burning between you and him. 
Rafe hummed contentedly, his hips continuing to slowly rock into you as he reveled in the feeling of your slick walls enveloping him. “I’d keep fucking this perfect pussy forever if I could,” he mumbled against your skin, grinding lazily against you. “Never knew anything could feel this good.” he added, his hand returning to your belly, where he couldn’t wait to feel his baby grow one day in the future. 
“You feel better than anything,” you whisper, biting down on your lip when you feel him rub against your sensitive walls. Looking over at him with a fucked out expression on your face, you asked, “Can you keep going? I don’t want this to end yet…feels too good.”
Even though you’ve already cum twice, and Rafe had cum once, it was obvious that neither of you could ever get enough of one another. Which was perfect, because he never wanted to be without you - and that was one of the reasons he put that ring on your finger. 
Rafe grinned, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in with a deep, satisfied grunt. “You want more, huh, baby?” he muttered, starting to move again with deep, long strokes. “This greedy pussy isn’t satisfied until I’ve fucked it raw, hm?”
Bracing one hand on the bed next to yours, he leans down and kisses you deeply as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper and harder. His other hand stays on your hip, guiding your body back to meet his increasingly rough fucks of his hips. 
As his lips brush over yours, Rafe could feel his cock swell inside you, already hard again even though he just came. But that was the you effect, the one that got him effortlessly hard within seconds. 
“I love you,” he mumbled against your mouth, his forehead pressing against yours as he slid in and out of your full pussy. “I love you so much.”
You moan, kissing him again as he presses you harder onto the mattress. “I love you,” you said back, your nose bumping against his. “So much.”
Rafe would never get tired of hearing you say that, he knew that much as his fingers dug into the skin of your hip. “Take it, baby,” he rasped, fucking you deeply as his eyes shut. He wasn’t going as fast or hard as he did the first time, but it felt just as amazing, because everything felt amazing with you. Everything always would. 
You bury your face in the sheets as loud cries of his name left your lips, and Rafe’s eyes flickered to your left hand, your pretty rings on display as you held onto the sheets with a death grip. 
He reached out and wrapped his hand around your wrist, coaxing you to let go of the bedding, and when you did, he let you squeeze his hand just as tightly. “Cum for me again, sweet girl,” he murmured, pressing kiss after kiss to your rings and knuckles as he felt himself get close again. “Let go and give it to me.”
And a few seconds later, you came again for him for the third time. You were shaking uncontrollably as he came inside you once more, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he whispered praises into your ear. 
“You did so well,” he mumbled, kissing your cheek as he held you up against his chest. “Took me so well…my sweet fucking girl.”
You were whimpering and trembling, your eyes squeezed shut as your whole body tensed up from over-stimulation. “Rae,” you whispered, unable to say anything else but his name at the moment. 
Rafe slowly pulls out of you, his softened cock slipping free from your inviting core, and he watches as a stream of white leaves your folds. He carefully turned you on your back as he settled beside you, his hand resting on your hip as he gazed down at you with dark eyes. “How are you doing, baby?” he asked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Was that enough for you?”
You nodded quickly, “More than enough,” you answered, reaching up to stroke his face. “I think I’ll be feeling you drip out of me well into next week.”
Rafe laughed quietly, glancing down at your still shaking thighs as his cum leaked from you and dripped onto the bed. “Good,” he grunted, reaching up to cradle your jaw in his hand. He kissed you again, much softer than most of the kisses you and he shared tonight. “I love you so much, baby. You’re my entire world, my everything…my sweet, sexy girl.”
You smiled, tangling your legs with his when he moved to lay down on his back, pulling you with him so you were resting on his chest. “You’re everything to me,” you said back, laying your head on his shoulder. “Everything you do for me, for us…fuck, it makes me fall in love with you all over again. I never want to be without you, Rafe. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”
“I want that too,” Rafe said quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around you. “I promise, baby, we’ll have all the time in the world together. I’ll do anything for you, protect you, adore you, and whenever you need me to, I’ll fuck you senseless and fill you with my cum.”
You hummed, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. “Sounds absolutely perfect,” you sighed, “You’re perfect. And I love you.” 
“Mm, yeah, you’re perfect too, baby,” he said back, holding you against his chest as he feels your racing heart beat against his own. “I love you too. More than anything.”
After placing one last final kiss to your forehead, you fell asleep in his arms, covered in sweat and his cum, and Rafe wanted every single day to end exactly like this.
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