#that only took me three minutes to recall.

[hallwyeoo]

Mildly controversial take but I think cumplane making out while their husbands chug vinegar outside is actually peak svsss content and def (probably…maybe) happened post-cannon. Sqh and sqq will schedule visits for “tea” that start with Sqq berating Sqh on his newest draft of a novel (the foreplay ofc) and end with a minimum of one (1) sloppy drunk makeout session.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Passionfruit

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Praising, Referenced Cheating (MEANING TOJI ONCE CHEATED ON READER AND IT'S TALKED ABOUT), Creampie, Sad Sex(womp womp)

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Getting married to Toji was the worst decision that you’ve ever made. You love him more than anything, yet he’s been the worst husband that you could’ve asked for. Your wedding day was the happiest day of your life, yet since that day, you haven’t been happy. You try to be shocked but since the beginning of your relationship, Toji told you that he wouldn’t be a great husband. 

You had dumb hopes, of course, that you could turn him into the perfect husband– Not necessarily perfect but at least a good one. You should’ve backed out on your plans the first month of your relationship, when you caught him in bed with another woman. But you were so into Toji back then that you managed to move past it, luckily, the incident never occurred again, and of course, he made it up to you. 

But Toji was never a great boyfriend though. He did the bare minimum every time, and you praised him for it. You don’t recall him even telling you that he loves you until your wedding day. To this day you don’t know why you stuck with him when the universe sent you a clear sign the first month of your relationship. You were still young, and even if you broke up with him you would have accomplished your five year plan in time.

You met Toji when you were twenty two and he was thirty four. He had a nine-year-old son and your first thought was no, you didn’t want to be a stepmother at such a young age. You just hooked up with him a couple times, and eventually you caught feelings. It was nothing too passionate, but you liked him enough to start a relationship with him, and to stay when he betrayed you early on.

By twenty four, you got engaged. You surprisingly didn’t have to ask him, he did it himself with no issue. He heard about your five year plan, married by twenty five, and he knew a wedding or at least the type you wanted, took at least a year to plan. Within a year, you were married.

You were getting cold feet on your wedding day, coming to the realization that Toji had never told you that he loved you. While he wasn’t a man that expressed his emotions, he surely would’ve told you that he loved you at least once, right? Toji heard you were getting cold feet, and he was at your door thirty minutes before the ceremony started.

“Isn’t this bad luck?” You asked him, unsure of what he was doing at your door. You didn’t really couldn’t stomach having a conversation with him. Toji looked as handsome as ever, it was the first time you’d ever seen him so dressed up. He shrugged.

“Heard that you were having second thoughts.” Toji began, and you crossed your arms. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. He cleared his throat before asking, “Care to explain?”

“Do you even love me, Toji? We’ve been in a relationship for three years, and you haven’t even told me that you love me. I do love you, Toji, but I don’t want to get married to someone who doesn’t love me.” You told him, and his brows raised. He took slow breaths, and you were on the verge of tears. You stumbled over your words as you continued, “Just please be honest with me, Toji. I can move on and start over, even if it’s hard at first.”

He took a couple steps toward you before his hands cupped your face. His lips met yours in a short but sweet kiss. He smiled at you before telling you, “Have I really not told you how much I love you?”

His words made you continue with the marriage, bringing you a sense of comfort and safety in your relationship. You weren’t so hesitant about being married, and the first month of your marriage you were genuinely happy– Until you weren’t.

Being a stepmother wasn’t hard. Megumi was a sweet child, only twelve when you got married to his father, but old enough to make his own decisions and to know right from wrong. You didn’t have to teach him anything, in fact, Toji asked you to stay out of that aspect of Megumi’s life. Unless Megumi did something that was clearly wrong, he didn’t want you to discipline his son. However, you never had any issues with Megumi.

You only ever had issues with Toji. The honeymoon stage is supposed to last longer than a month, but within a month Toji was dismissive of you. He was cold towards you, he didn’t bother communicating any issues. It felt like Toji was just using you to come home to a clean house, a cooked meal, and for sex. You tried to fix it many times, but he never bothered to change.

You weren’t treated like his wife. He couldn’t care about your interests, blamed any of the issues of your relationship on you, and what you found the worst, constantly compared you to his late wife. You were worried about that before you got married, and you expressed your concerns to him; sometimes it felt like he did it on purpose.

You had this concern that you never felt in your relationship, even after the incident of your first month together. He was cheating on you– He had to be. He came home late, and didn’t pay any attention to you. But you were proven wrong after you followed him around and he was just working. Simply working. He didn’t even look at another woman… It relieved you, and once again filled you with this sense of comfort in your marriage.

You were fine until he nearly forgot your twenty-sixth birthday, he only remembered at night, and your heart broke. But he was so loving towards you after he remembered, for a week, he treated you like his wife but things quickly went back to normal.

Dismissive, cold, reserved. 

But you still dealt with it because you loved him. Even when you constantly argued and he blamed every issue of your marriage on you. You were growing tired of it, and each time that he brought up her name, you threatened to leave. He didn’t take you seriously though. And you weren’t serious until your twenty-seventh birthday, when he completely forgot to congratulate you again. But this time it completely slipped. He came home late that night, but you didn’t get to see him because you had cried yourself to sleep.

You were the wife that he wanted for some time– Quiet. You didn’t bother talking about his day, asking if he liked dinner, if you were going to do anything special for the weekend (you never did but you always asked), you didn’t ask Megumi anything either. You mentally checked out of the relationship. Until you realized that you can’t live like this forever, just emotionally isolated while you played housewife. And now you’re sitting on the couch of your apartment, waiting for your husband to come home.

Your heart is almost beating out of your chest, your hands shaky and getting worse with each second that passes. He’ll get home at any minute now, and it’ll all be over. He won’t argue your request, Toji isn’t one to argue much. You’re usually the one that starts the arguments to actually communicate with him, but you won’t be arguing with him tonight.

“Why are you still awake?” Toji’s voice spooks you, you were so lost in your own thoughts of what will come next that you completely missed the sound of the front door opening. Toji furrows his eyebrow as he looks down at you. You blink slowly before shrugging, the same response he would’ve given you. You stand up, pointing to the coffee table where the divorce papers lay.

“I want a divorce.” You’re brief. Before you can see his reaction, you take off your engagement and wedding ring, setting them down on the coffee table beside the divorce papers. You go back to your bedroom, leaving him in the living room to process the news. You doubt he cares too much. 

“Are you sure you want this? A divorce?” He ends up following after you which surprises you. You get in bed, throwing the blanket over you. You don’t pay much attention to him before you respond,

“Yes. It’s what we both want.” You answer. He shakes his head. 

“It’s what you want because I don’t want a divorce.” He responds, and you raise your brows. You shake your head disapprovingly.

“Right… You’re right. Because with me you have a live-in maid.” You point out, your voice calm as ever. Toji blinks slowly, tilting his head to the side before he opens his mouth.

“Don’t I pay the bills?” He argues, making you get out of the bed. You can’t stay calm at this moment, even if you try.

“And you hold it over my head every damn day. I don’t even get an allowance to buy myself some clothes because all the money you have left over, you throw away gambling!” You raise your voice at him, so much pent-up anger slowly unleashing. “And I wouldn’t care too much about that if you gave me the place as your wife– You treat me as if I were your fucking servant.”

“What the hell? Since when do you care about that?” Toji asks, and you freeze in your spot. You end up laughing in disbelief because you can’t believe your own husband is saying that. He’s supposed to know you better than anyone. Yet he doesn’t seem to know you at all.

“Since always! I want to be loved, Toji, how do you not know that?” You sound defeated, and he’s stepping closer to you. You’re nearly crying, realizing how you’ve wasted your time. The man that stands in front of you doesn’t love you, he’s only with you because– You don’t even know why he’s with you. “What kind of wife doesn’t want to be loved?”

He cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You’re getting lost in his eyes, and you have to force yourself to look away because it never ends well when you look into his eyes. You’re so fucking weak for him. You never thought you could love someone as much as you love Toji; at first you definitely didn’t think it’d be such a strong emotion since you didn’t care much for him at first but when you fell, you fell hard. You truly believe that the man that stands in front of you is the love of your life, yet you’re leaving him because you doubt that you’ll be able to be happy by his side.

It’s the worst kind of love. The one that makes you unhappy because you yearn for it to be reciprocated.

“Then let me love you, baby.” Toji says, his lips moving down to meet yours. You’re taken back, and even though you want to pull away you also want to stay like this forever. Instead of pushing him away, your hands meet behind his neck and pull him closer to you.

His tongue swipes on your lips before you part them to let his tongue meet yours. His hands move down your body, his fingertips like fire, arousing every inch of your body as they move down your skin. You should pull away since a strong sentiment takes over as you realize that this is the only way Toji knows how to love you, and you hate it. But you’ve melted into the kiss and you can’t pull away now.

Toji’s lifting up your nightgown, and the back of your mind is telling you to stop. You’re not listening though. You only ever pull away– You don’t pull away, Toji does. He kisses down your neck before focusing on that sweet spot on your neck that makes your knees weak. 

His finger hooks under your panties, and he begins to play with the waistband before he pushes them down to the floor. When he stops kissing your neck, his fingers go to the hem of your nightgown and he lifts it up. When he takes off your nightgown, he picks you up to put you down on the bed. His hands cup your face and he gently kisses your lips, and while he looks down at you, you’re thinking that maybe– No, no, nonononono you can’t be so weak. What are you even doing under him?

Just as you’re about to get up, his lips go on yours again. He caresses your cheek, “I really love you. So much.”

His lips kiss you again and then they move down. He kisses every inch of your body, “You’re so beautiful.”

“So fucking perfect.”

“You’re my perfect wife.” He praises you with each kiss to your body, and you can’t deny how you’re like putty under his touch. Toji seems to realize the grasp he has on you, that’s why he’s kissing every inch of your body so you won’t leave him. Toji isn’t always so loving with you as he is right at this moment. He presses one final kiss on your lower abdomen before he goes to your face. He kisses your lips again, “I love you so much.”

Your hands go to Toji’s tie, and you loosen it up. Toji takes it completely off and your fingers begin to unbutton his shirt. Toji takes off his shirt completely, tossing it aside. Your hands go up his torso, and you’re almost in disbelief that Toji manages to keep his build even after getting an office job. He kisses your lips one more time before kissing down your body once again, each kiss making your body crave for more. This time he gets lower than your lower abdomen.

Toji kisses your folds before his tongue runs through them. His tongue begins to flick your clit and your bottom lip is quivering before a soft moan finally leaves your lips. Toji’s tongue is slow but slowly picks up speed.

There’s nothing Toji loves more than the taste of you on his tongue, yet he rarely does it. It’s a treat for both you and him. He’s doing it to get you to stop, hoping that his tongue giving you pleasure is enough to stop the insanity that you want to ensue. 

Your voice is soft as you let your moans into the air. It doesn’t take long for pleasure to consume your mind since Toji knows how to use his tongue. He knows your body too well, and you know you’ll grow to hate it when you’re away from him, but right at this moment you love it more than anything.

His tongue moves down to your entrances, and he teases it. A low moan leaves your lips when his tongue enters your cunt, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your back is arching while your bite down on your lip. He’s making you feel so fucking good, but you have to be quiet. Megumi’s room might be on the other side of the apartment but you don’t wanna risk him listening to any of this.

Toji’s tongue moves in and out your cunt a couple of times before it goes back to your clit. You’ve always loved how Toji is always so determined to get you to come, even when you weren’t dating and you were just his hookup. This is one of those times that he won’t stop until you’ve climaxed.

He gets his index and middle finger wet enough before he pushes them inside you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. He curves his fingers so they brush right against that sweet spot that’s enough to drive you wild. You fucking hate it so much– Not in the moment, in the moment you’re loving it; you absolutely hate it because you know it’ll make it hard to leave. But sex is not the only factor in a marriage. 

“Toji–” You moan. Your orgasm begins to approach, and it feels harder to hold back the noises that threaten to leave your lips. Your hands grip onto the bed sheets as your climax nears. Toji does such a great job, and if he wasn’t so focused on your cunt, he’d be praising you because you feel so nice around his finger and taste so good on his tongue. “Oh, fuck– I’m gonna…”

You stumble over your words until you finally reach your high, and God, the sound you make is like music to Toji’s ears. And while usually clarity hits you when you hit your orgasm, it doesn’t this time. He takes his fingers out of your cunt yet he continues flicking your clit until he’s had enough. When he’s finished, he kisses your clit and detaches himself from your cunt.

Toji stands up and unbuttons his pants. He pushes them down with his briefs. His arm goes under your back and he brings your back up, kissing your lips ever so lovingly, which is rare from Toji. Your legs wrap behind his back. One hand holds your back, forcing you to sit up, while the other strokes his cock a couple of times before he runs the tip through your folds.

“I love you so much, I really do.” Toji kisses the tip of your nose as his cock stretches you out. He’s making eye contact with you as his cock bottoms out, and you feel the tears that well your eyes. You wish it was of pleasure– While it does feel great, your tears are filled with sadness. Maybe he does love you.

A tear falls from your eye, streaming down your cheek and Toji doesn’t waste a second before he wipes it away. He kisses your lips and he begins to move, letting go of your back so you’re able to lay back down. “Will you stay with me, please? I need you.”

No, no he doesn’t. He doesn’t need you. He just doesn’t want to be alone. A need is something you need to live, and he clearly doesn’t need you. You bite down on your lip, looking away from Toji because just looking at him makes you want to burst into tears. 

“Please look at me.” Toji says, his hand going to your chin and moving your head so your eyes fall on him. He’s so… Perfect. Toji might have many imperfections, but in your eyes he’s perfect. That’s why you’ve stayed for so long. You will never find someone as perfect as he is. You try to focus on what’s happening to you physically, his cock filling you up and hitting every right spot, but it’s hard when so many emotions run through you at the same time. “Do you love me too?”

“I love you, Toji.” The words slip past your lips. You watch as he smiles, and you avert your gaze elsewhere. You don’t like giving him the satisfaction of knowing that, even when he deeply knows it. 

“I love you more than you know, baby.” Toji tells you, his hand going down your body to play with your clit. You try to ignore it, letting the feeling of pleasure take over, but your other emotions are too overwhelming. So many emotions flow through you.

Tears keep streaming down your eyes as Toji reminds you that he loves you so much. His hands land on your hips. His hands feel so gentle on your body. “Please stay with me.”

Toji is usually much rougher during sex, but this time he's gentler with you. It still feels so fucking good. You bite down your lip, feeling as your second orgasm of the night approaches. Your walls begin to squeeze around him, and Toji begins to curse under his breath. He fucking loves this, fuck fuck fuck fuck, he could stay buried inside of you forever.

“Will you stay with me, baby? Do I need to trap you?” He says, and what he’s saying is so wrong but it just sounds so fucking hot. It arouses you even more. “Do I need to knock you up?”

“Fuck–” You’re so close to finishing and his words are certainly helping. His cock just hits every right spot and he plays with your clit perfectly. You have to put your hand over your mouth when you reach your climax, not being able to contain the sounds but at least your hand muffles them. 

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. I need you by my side, baby.” Toji continues, his thrusts slowly becoming sloppy. His nails unwillingly dig into your flesh. “Gonna make you a mommy, fuck–”

Toji throws his head back, shutting his eyes. He groans when he finally finishes, filling you up with his cum. He stays buried inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. He finally pulls out after a minute.

Toji lays down beside you, an exasperated breath leaving his lips. He tries to bring you closer to him, for you to lay your head on his chest how you usually do. He doesn’t usually like it, normally he pushes you off saying he has work early the next morning before he turns on his side. But not this time, he’s the one that tries to bring you closer, and Toji feels a sense of relief when you do.

You hear his heartbeat as it settles, and it brings you so much peace. His hand lovingly strokes your arm, an action that Toji only ever does when he’s making up for something. He places a kiss on your forehead before he mutters, “I love you.”

No kiss or caress can change your mind though. You’ve made your decision. He’s so loving now but within a week he’ll go back to being the same cold Toji. Toji doesn’t know though, and he thinks you’re all good when your hand fondles his chest. His lips then peck yours.

“Are we good now?” Toji asks. He doesn’t want you to leave, and while he might not show it, he does love you. Toji would not sit on his ass for nearly twelve hours a day, five days weekly, for anyone else but you. Plumbing was paying more than enough for him and Megumi, but it wasn’t going to be enough for you.

Toji changed jobs for you, wanting to give you a lavish lifestyle. He bought you a somewhat expensive ring, gave you a proper wedding, and now you’re living in an apartment that he wouldn’t have been able to afford in his previous job. Sure, he does have somewhat of an addiction and he doesn’t give you money to buy whatever you want, but you’re a housewife, you don’t get to buy whatever you want. At least that’s what he believes. Toji has done so much for you, and it pains to see that his efforts go underappreciated.

“We are.” You answer his question. You peck his lips again. He’s smiling at you but you can’t bring yourself to smile at him. “But we’re still getting a divorce.”

“What?” His eyes widen when those words leave your lips. Your head remains on his chest, your hand still running on his chest. You’re ever so calm listening to his heartbeat.

“Toji, if this is the only way that you can show me you love me then I don’t want that.” You tell him. You’re ever so calm, you have come to accept that your marriage is ending. You did think you’d be more of a mess while telling him this, but the tears from before are more than enough. “You’re better off with someone else.”

“But I want to be with you. You’re the woman I love.” He says, and it causes you to laugh. 

“You just like having sex with me.” You argue, even though you know that he does love you. But you want to leave. You have to because by his side you won’t be happy.

“I told you I wanted to have a baby with you, that’s no small deal.” He brings up.

“Just a spur of the moment thing. If I thought you were serious, I would’ve pushed you off.” You tell him, getting up from the bed and walking to the bathroom to clean yourself off. Toji watches you from the bed, watching as his cum drips out of you. He’d find the scene hot and pull you back into the bed if it weren’t for the fact that–

His hand go over his face, a sigh leaving his lips, “She fucking wants a divorce.”

[harryspet]

well kept [3] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all the feedback so far :)

word count: 4.5k

In which it's your first day working from home with Rafe and you have a new lesson to learn.

well kept masterlist

The Cameron residence was fifteen minutes outside of downtown Charlotte and situated in a large neighborhood where hills and huge oak trees hid all the houses. You didn’t really see his house, only what you could tell was large pond, until the driver was at the end of the mile-long driveway.  When you did, you felt woefully underdressed. Assuming that being inside all day meant you could opt for something casual, you’d chosen a cream knit dress. 

Following Rafe’s instructions, you sent him photos of each outfit you tried on, but he hadn’t told you which ones you could return. It was another blow to your confidence. You began to doubt whether he’d even been serious, but the fear that he might mention it the next day kept you from taking any chances.

Stepping out of the black Escalade, your eyes widened as you took in the architectural masterpiece before you. The house was a striking blend of traditional and modern styles, with a light-colored exterior contrasted by dark shutters framing the windows. A stone chimney rose from the roof, and the three-car garage with wooden doors added a rustic touch.

After your car drove away, a tall and impeccably dressed staff member named Anthony guided you up the stone-paved driveway. From your cheat sheet, you recalled that he was the House Manager. Rafe required a full team: Anthony, two housekeepers, a private chef, a driver, a gardener, and now you—his personal assistant. The inside of the house was as intimidating as the exterior. The expansive foyer featured high ceilings and a grand staircase that curved up to the second floor. To the left, you caught a glimpse of the formal dining room. Each room you passed was more impressive than the last. Anthony informed you that there were six bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

“I don’t usually work on Fridays but Mr. Cameron wanted me to give you a tour of the house and show you the ropes of house management. It’ll be important for you to be able to oversee the staff when I’m absent and understand the scheduling.”

Once again, it was all too much to take in. Today was your fifth day working for Rafe, and you’d barely survived until now. 

“I want to clarify that what happened yesterday stays between us. That includes Eleanor. Okay?”

That was all he said about his outburst. There was no apology for groping you, for pinning you down on his office couch, or for taking your virginity. If you were to tell the story, you’d have to mention how your body had betrayed you—not once, but twice. But you had said no. You didn’t want to use the word that described what happened to you. You didn’t want to think about it at all.

And it didn’t happen again—not over the next three days. He continued to be harsh, forcing you to apologize for every small mistake, even those you weren’t aware of.

As you followed Anthony through the expansive kitchen, you couldn't help but marvel at its sheer size and sophistication. The kitchen was a chef's dream, with gleaming marble countertops that seemed to stretch endlessly, state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances, and custom cabinetry in a rich, dark wood finish. An oversized island dominated the center of the room.

At the far end of the kitchen, massive glass-paneled doors stood, offering a glimpse of the world beyond. The porch was furnished with elegant wicker seating with plush cushions. The space was perfect for elegant parties, with enough room to accommodate at least a dozen guests.

Beyond the porch was a stunning infinity pool stretched out towards the horizon. As you walked closer, to the right, you took notice of a garden. You spotted the gardener, Tyler, who Anthony had mentioned earlier. In simple clothes, the young man blended easily into the scenery. 

“This is where Mr. Cameron will typically entertain his guests,” Anthony said, 

The beauty of the outdoor space was undeniable, but so was the control that permeated every aspect of it. You wondered what hand Rafe played in how spotless it looked. You could almost picture him, his jaw clenched and eyes blazing with a harsh intensity, if even the smallest detail were out of place. It was easy to imagine him demanding that every leaf, every petal, every stone be exactly where it belonged. 

Did his staff ever make mistakes? Did he make them beg him forgiveness like he did with you? 

“Shall I show you the study? It’s approaching seven-thirty.”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. He was kind but part of you didn’t want him to hear your voice shake or your face contort into an uncomfortable position as you struggled to get your words out. 

There would be enough struggling today, you knew that. 

Surprisingly, Rafe’s home office was more quaint than you expected. Dark wood panneling decorated the walls as well as floor-to-celing bookshelves. As you made your way around the room, you took note of the picture frames containing images of what you believed to be his family. Here, it seemed he had a heart. The four of them stood on a dock, sun shining down, and his arms were wrapped a young girl with dark brown hair. His smile was genuine and there was darkness lingering in the blues of his eyes. 

Other than the bookshelves, the room only contained his desk, a set of leather couches and a coffee table. The smaller room still managed to exude sophistication but it was far less imposing than you expected. 

The room almost felt intimate as sunlight trickled in through light colored curtains. You were standing behind his desk, glancing out his office window which faced towards the nearby pond. Beside it, sat a gazebo, although you couldn’t imagine Rafe enjoying it. You wondered if he lived here alone as you saw no traces of the other three people in his family photo. 

“Boo,” You yelped as you heard Rafe’s deep voice. 

You placed a hand over your beating heart as you looked toward where he stood in the doorway. Having been deep in thought, you hadn’t heard the door opened. He knew that much which explained the amused look in his eye.  

Everything flooded back at the sight of him. The air had already left your lungs. You felt his body pressing down on yours, warm breath against your ears, and that pain between your legs. 

The door clicked shut, making you flinch.

“Good morning,” he said, his gaze fixed on you.

It hit you then, you hadn’t greeted him like you were supposed to.

You were taken aback by his appearance. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a plain navy t-shirt, a stark contrast to your heels and carefully applied makeup. You weren’t sure why you were expected to dress up, especially when he looked so casual.

“G-Good morning, Sir,” You crossed the room, his eyes locked on yours. You remembered where he liked you, near the door, ready to greet him and present yourself to him. You hated how your voice always betrayed you, how weak it made you sound. Your only saving grace was that you’d already memorized his schedule for the day, having spent the entire commute looking at your laptop. You recited it to him, including the midday Zoom call he had with Kelce and Topper.

Topper, you had learned, was Eleanor’s husband. Rafe hadn’t ever touched her but the way Eleanor always answered your questions with vague responses made you suspect that her relationship with Topper mirrored your own with Rafe. She hadn’t warned you but now you were suspecting that was because Rafe seemed to always get what he wanted, no matter who got hurt in the process.

You froze the moment his hand reached out to touch you. His fingers curled around your side, hovering just above your stomach but dangerously close to your breasts. His grip was surprisingly gentle as his thumb grazed over the fabric of your dress. You stiffened as his other hand mirrored the first, sliding across to the opposite side of your body. “Eleanor picked this,” he murmured, his brows knitting together as his gaze slowly traveled down your figure. A jolt shot through you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a wave of panic coursing through you.

“Y-You don’t like it?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He clicked his tongue, “Turn around for me.”

You did as he said, “Doesn’t do enough for your figure,” Your heart panged in your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious of your own shape, “Are you wearing the panties I sent you?”

All you could do was nod. Rafe never commanded you to wear the panties everyday to work but you didn’t risk it. Luckily, they were all comfortable despite the lace and cheekiness. 

“Pull up your dress,” He said next. 

You’d spent the last three days in a fog, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to understand why your body betrayed you. When you were younger, you always asked the universe why you couldn’t speak like the way all your friends at school did. Now you asked the universe why Rafe’s voice made you want to clench your thighs together. Why you had felt empty ever since he’d finished inside of you. Why you wanted to try again, to experience that intimacy again without so much fear. Your life was so simple before but now it felt like it was too late to turn back. 

Your thoughts were too jumbled. Rafe cleared his throat and you realized you were just staring back, “I’m not gonna fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Please-”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t make me ask again.”

You squared your shoulders. “I’m nnn-nn-not comfortable—”

“Just do it.”

You reached down to the edges of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric to your waist. It was nothing he hadn’t already seen and yet you were shaking, “Turn around. Face the other way.” Like a robot, you obeyed. You’d chosen a light pink color today. 

“Good,” You felt him against you. He pulled your hair back over your shoulder and leaned down against your ear, “Maybe I should make you walk around naked while you’re here, hmm?”

You bit down on your lip, wanting to contain the protest that was about to leave your mouth. You wanted to lean into his touch, to embrace the comfort that would accompany the torture. He brushed past you just as you tilted your head back, “Go make me a coffee,” He commanded. 

He made his way behind his desk and you reached down to move your dress, “Did I say to pull your dress down?”

“N-No, Sir,” You moved your hands quickly to your sides.

“I could make you walk around like that, couldn’t I?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

He tilted his head and you realized you needed to answer. You gave him a painful look. You could say no but what would it cost you, “I . . . I don’t know,” He wasn’t satisfied by your answer, clearly. It was torture to force the words out, “Y-Yes.”

“Right answer,” He said, “Pull down your dress, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but see the irony in the fact that despite that you upgraded to a salaried job, you were still making coffee for the rich and spoiled. The opulent kitchen had an even fancier coffee machine than his office. Your movements as you prepared his steaming mug of coffee were precise despite the turmoil in your mind. 

Searching for solutions, your mind landed on the idea of trying to assert your competence. Sure, you could make a great cup of coffee but the whole point of getting a real job was so that you could have real skills to market yourself. You could be perfect at this job, anticipate his every need, and you could more than an object to look at. 

You re-entered his office quietly after realizing he’d begun his first meeting of the day. Carefully, you set his coffee down on the edge of his desk. He was always so intense, so completely absorbed in his work, and that unwavering focus made you even more anxious. Maybe that’s how you should be, more composed, projecting an air of confidence.

Unsure of where you should settle, you made yourself comfortable on one of the leather couches. You checked your email on your laptop, finding several reminders from Eleanor. You found yourself frustrated by how she picked and chose what information to share with you but you balanced those feelings with the fact that she was often your saving grace. 

She gave you a list of tasks including arranging for a delivery of documents that needed to be signed by Rafe, confirming his dinner reservations for the night, and proofreading the notes you took from yesterday’s meetings. You told yourself by the end of the next week, you’d be able to handle things by yourself, and you wouldn’t have to lean on her so much. You’d have a day, eventually, where Rafe didn’t point out anything you did wrong. 

“I was thinking-” Rafe’s voice cut through the silence. You were so focused that you hand’t realized his meeting had ended. He folded his hands over each other, his eyes on you, “From now on, I want you to wear what I pick for you each day.”

“How …y-you’re not happy with what I’ve been choosing?”

“It’s not about not being happy. Now I have more of an idea of what I like on you,” His voice was smooth and authoritative, “You want to reflect my taste, my standards, yeah?”

You mustered the courage to ask your next question, “Can I-I dress a l-little less … formally when I work at home with you?”

“Less formally?” He tasted the words on his tongue, “You mean, like more casual?”

“Yes, Sss-sir. Like more comfortable.”

“We could experiment with that,” His tone was deceptively light, “On my terms though. Yeah?”

You nodded and were grateful that he hadn’t reacted lightly. He seemed to enjoy that you were asking him for permission.

“You’ll have to wear something different tonight though, for dinner. Eleanor is coming by towards the end of the day to bring you your outfit and take you to get your nails done.” 

“Oh,” Your eyes opened wide, “I-I thh-thhought it was more of a personal-”

“I won’t keep you out forever,” He said, “You got plans or something?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, Sir.”

Rafe worked through lunchtime, so you brought him the meal prepared by his chef, Stevie—an elegant older woman with blonde hair. She had made a pesto pasta salad that looked like it belonged in a gourmet magazine, despite your protests and insistence on eating your own packed lunch. Only after delivering the meal did Rafe grant you permission to take your break elsewhere.

You settled on the outdoor patio by the pool, enjoying the peacefulness of the space despite the distant, steady hum of a lawnmower. For a moment, you didn’t feel out of place. Your dress, though apparently unflattering to your figure, was worth a small fortune, and the gourmet lunch you were now enjoying was a far cry from the PB&J you’d packed.

Thirty minutes later, after finishing your lunch and enjoying a lengthy chat with Stevie, you reluctantly headed back upstairs. Hearing Rafe still on the phone, you decided to explore a bit more. His office was situated in the private wing of his house, and as you meandered through opulent corridors, you couldn’t resist sneaking a glance into the master bedroom. It was cozier than you had anticipated, with tall gray walls that gave it a masculine feel and a plush bed draped in navy linen blanket that created a snug, cocoon-like atmosphere.

Rafe ended his call a minute later and the afternoon wore on. You settled into a rhythm, completing the various tasks that you’d added to your own to do lists and ones he’d assigned to you. You spent some time organizing files in his office. His gaze burned into you, even more when you were turned around, and surprisingly, you were starting to get used to that unnerving feeling. 

He waited for you to make a mistake but you used a hundred-percent of your effort to make sure that didn’t happen. 

The clock inched towards the evening, and the day grew even more quieter, more intimate. “I was looking over your notes from yesterday’s meeting with the board members. I highlighted some sections for you to read back to me,” He waved you over, his voice gruff after a long day of talking. You joined him behind his desk and you moved to lean over and get closer look, but he placed a hand on your hip. The gesture was firm, possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. With effortless strength, like a wolf guiding its prey, he maneuvered you onto his lap, settling you on his thigh. You felt the power in his grip, the unspoken control, and all you could do was comply.

“Rafe–” You started, an desperate attempt at a protest. 

“Start with the first section,” He commanded, his grip tightening. 

“I’ve been working on proofreading them–”

“Sweetheart,” He warned, not needing to add that you were making him angry. You could feel it, the heat coming off of him. 

You took a deep breath and slowly tried to read each sentence. Even if you didn’t have a sentence with a small typo, you still stammered over several of your words. He slid the chair closer to the desk and you yelped. 

“See right here,” He pointed to the screen but that only pressed him into you. You breathed slowly, trying not to hyperventilate, “This whole section needs more detail. I don’t want to have to ask more information.”

You were taken aback when Rafe actually began to instruct you on what you were meant to do. He spent at least ten minutes walking you through each sentence, explaining how to word your report, and deleted all the unnecessary details you added. He was surprisingly patient. 

“Now, your turn,” he said finally, leaning back in the chair. For a moment, you thought he was letting you up, but the pressure of his hand on your waist told you otherwise. “Fix it.”

You swallowed, hesitating as your fingers hovered over the keys. Ever keystroke was amplified in the quiet room. Doing your best to actually use your brain, you carefully made the changes he suggested. He watched you closely, his hands first placed on your hips but soon one wandered between your thighs. 

“Good,” He said. You could do it again, you thought, and not be so scared. His touch was teasing, a reminder of what he could do to you, all the pressure that built inside of you a spilled over. You could impress him, you could be beautiful, and not turn into a crying mess when he was inside of you. You could be more than a fragile thing to be broken.

Each word was a small victory. It was a battle you thought you could win until his fingers slipped inside your panties and his other hand grabbed a handful of one of your breasts. It was unbearable, and as he made small circles, you found your fingers slipping clumsily over the keys. 

You pressed your palms into his desk, your body tilting forward. A frustrated sigh left your lips, you couldn’t contain it, and Rafe’s chuckle rumbled from behind you, “Do you ever touch yourself like this? Be honest with me this time.”

“Y-Yes,” You whispered. 

“How do you do it?” He pulled you away from the desk, pulling your torso against his, “You use a toy?”

“J-Just my fff-fingers,” You admitted. 

“Like this? How do you like it?” Carefully, he switched between different approaches. He rubbed circles over your clit, smaller ones and then slower, bigger ones. Then he stroked you up and down, fingers slipping easily into your warm hole as he wandered lower, “You put those little fingers inside of you?”

“Rafe, please.”

“Tell me,” He kissed the side of your neck, “Or I’ll stop.”

"I-I don't usually put them inside… ," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I always use my pillow…”

He hummed against your ear. "See how much better this is when you cooperate? You can be such a good little assistant when you try."

You nodded, unable to speak, and let the feeling consume you. He brought you right to the edge, you were seconds away coming undone, but his movements slowed. Before you could register the feeling as disappointment, Rafe was hoisting you off of his lap. 

Moving with sudden determination, your feet were suddenly off the ground and Rafe was carrying you out of the room in his strong arms, “Rafe!” You clutched his shoulders as he carried you down the hall.

You turned your head as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, the heavy thud of the door slamming shut reverberating through the room. With a swift motion, he laid you gently on the bed. The softness beneath you was just as you had imagined, but the thought barely registered. You shot him an incredulous look, your face flushed with a mix of pleasure and frustration.

He leaned over you, grabbing a pillow from behind you and placing it in front of you, “Show me.”

You shook your head instantly and moved to crawl away. Somehow, you could let all of his other sleazy behavior slide by but this was an insane boundary for him to try to cross. He’d already been inside you and yet this was a thousand times more intimate. 

He grabbed ahold of your thigh, “You’re so close, sweetheart. I know you want it,” He challenged you, “Probably feels like you need it.”

“Please,” You tried, your voice threatening to crack. His hands found your hips again, slowly positionin you over the pillow. The soft fabric brushed against your most sensitive spot, the familiar sensation making you bite down on your bottom lip, “Rafe.”

“You saying my name like that just makes me want it more,” Balancing on his knees, he grabbed ahold of your face and leaned in to kiss you. You felt the intensity of his desire, how much he wanted this, and it left you dizzy. 

When he pulled back, he looked over you. Your hips started moving in a familiar motion despite your embarrassment. You trembled from the vulnerability, the pounding in your chest, but you chased that high he gave you. It ignited your fire again, and since you didn’t have the full force of his touch anymore, you focused your eyes on him, “Good girl,” He said again and you whimpered, “Look at me just like that.”

You rolled your hips harder, faster, imagining his kiss, his touch, as the tension coiled tighter inside you. His gaze never left yours, his words a constant stream of encouragement and control.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” 

His words all jumbled together. 

“Just let it happen.”

“I want to see your face when you cum, sweetheart.”

“You look so desperate.”

“So needy.”

“You’re gonna make yourself cum, huh?”

“Just because I told you too.”

“Such a good girl.”

“Look at you.” 

The words pushed you over the edge, finally, and you were able to let go. He watched as you rode out that wave of pleasure and his hands found your body again, his grip grounding you. “Fuck,” You heard him say but you couldn’t respond. 

You were too overwhelmed to respond, your mind unable to fully process what had just happened. All you knew was that you felt good, embarrassed, and strangely satisfied that you'd pleased him, all at once. 

When you manage to look at him again, the doorbell rang. 

Eleanor navigated through the upscale nail salon, a palace of white and silvers, with ease, like she was a regular, and this was just an extension of her universe. You imagined this place as an escape for her, from both Rafe and Topper. She secured side-by-side seats near the back of the salon and you followed her lead as she set down her purse and removed her sandals. Her movements were fluid and assured. 

“Have you thought about what color you want?”

“Oh, um, n-no,” You tried to make yourself comfortable in the pedicure chair, “What d-do you think Rafe would like?”

“Maybe something pastel. You can’t go wrong with a soft pink.”

“Is that what you’re getting?” You asked, unassured, as you glanced around the luxurious setting. It wasns’t like other nail salons you’d been to where the technicians and customers talked at whatever volume they liked. It was quiet and each technician wore matching black uniforms. 

“I’ll tell them you want ballet slipper on your nails and white on your toes.”

You nodded, grateful for her guidance, “Thank you.”

As your pedicures began, the warm lavender-scented water soaking your feet, two technicians took their places by your sides, working silently as they filed your nails. 

“How are you holding up?” Eleanor asked.

“Fff-fine,” You said, “I’m trying to . . . t-to understand him, I guess.”

“You’ll go crazy doing that,” She laughed lightly, flashing a look that said “poor you”. 

“How d-did you meet Topper?” Her face tightened at your question, “I mean, y-you didn’t say.”

“I’m from the same town as them, Rafe and Topper. Not really the same town, my parents didn’t have money growing up. But I worked at the country club they all went to. That’s how I met Topper.”

“And you started dating?”

“Something like that,” She made a small shrug, “I owe everything I have to them.”

You nodded, sensing the weight of her words despite the lack of detail. Another piece to the puzzle you were trying to put together. Maybe the two of them had an attraction to girls struggling to get by.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She asked and it made you pause.

Your instinct was to mirror her shrug, but you hesitated, wondering if you could trust her with your thoughts. If anyone could understand what you were going through, it had to be Eleanor.  “I-I just ffff-ffeel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only heard good things.”

“A-About me?” She nodded and your lips parted in shock. 

“Yes. I know you feel uncertain right now, but I think you'll be glad if you can stick it out. Topper… he’s a bastard, but he takes care of me. Rafe likes you too. Maybe he doesn’t know how to show it, but…” She paused, her eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “He’s filthy rich. That would be enough for me.”

In that moment, her brutal honesty felt almost like reassurance. You weren’t sure if Eleanor truly grasped the extent of Rafe’s inability to show affection, that his pleasure came from humiliating you, from making you cry. Just as you couldn’t fully know what she endured with Topper. Her words weren't necessarily comforting but at least they felt real.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :)

[dumpywrites]

Wanna See My Cat? - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “Do you wanna see my cat?” You're not actually lying but he thinks it's a sexual innuendo.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, situationship-ish

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

a/n: I was contemplating on whether to actually add smut to this but I decided not to cause it's cuter this way and I think we could all agree there're plenty of bts smut but not enough fluff here! :D

Situationship was a funny concept. Either you commit or not, that was what you believed. Which was why you were not precisely proud to say that you was now in fact in one. 

In your defense it had only been what, three? Four weeks? A month or so? Min Yoongi was this nice guy your acquaintance introduced you to. Gentle, could be hilarious when he wanted to, and cute. Although he could be a little emotionless at times, mostly he was a really sweet guy and you liked him a lot. In your other defense, you did not believe what you had with him could be called as a situationship. It was just what your friends had been teasing you about. 

In the whole time of knowing him, you had been to total of three dates. The first being a casual “are you free for dinner after work?” kinda date, second a movie date, and third being a very chill cafe date. And in your opinion, you enjoyed all of them, you had the greatest of time chatting and spending quality time with him. But your friend kept teasing you otherwise. 

Apparently your dates were considered too boring, too innocent for today’s dating world standard. You had not even had your first kiss yet and one of your friends was already asking about his size. Evidently, wanting to take things slow was a crime nowadays and you were lowkey getting annoyed. 

Today though, your park date was cancelled due to the rain. You kept cursing to yourself at home when you saw Yoongi’s text telling you to do a literal rain check, seeing the thunderstorm. The outfit that you bought especially for the occasion failed to see the outside world. 

As you stood in front of the mirror, seeing the reflection gave you a weird idea. A small Siamese cat walking past your feet, meowing adorably. Your pet cat, Zuko. A cat whose existence wasn’t known by Yoongi yet. The lightbulb above your head lightened up. 

“Do you wanna see my cat?” You sent the text. 

**

Yoongi texted you to let you know that he had arrived at your place. You recalled last time he picked you up it took him around fifteen minutes but this time he only took ten. You wondered what made him arrive a lot quicker. 

You were giddy with excitement and took a screenshot to tell your friend. Instead of being excited and giddy for you, your friend sent a bunch of side-eye emojis. Well, they could be just teasing you but the chat bubble following afterwards had you wondering. 

“Woo! Give me a rating score later!!!” 

You crooked your head in confusion, but there was no time to ponder on your friend’s riddle when Yoongi was already waiting for you to open the front door. 

“Hey.”

That hey definitely did not have to sound that deep and hot. You had to gulped your saliva down upon seeing him in his comfortable clothes. Since when did wearing sweatpants and baggy t-shirt looked so good? And did he just had his hair cut or was it just you? So many questions pilling up in your head. 

You knew it was game over when he went in for a hug. Heavenly was the only words you could use to describe his smell. It was a mixture of his shampoo and his laundry detergent, and his intoxicating smell. It seemed like he didn’t even use any perfume. 

“What should we eat?” You said while smiling giddily. 

“I’m kinda craving some instant ramen?” He looked at you while lifting a shopping bag filled with a few packets of noodles. 

Your eyes beamed. “That sounds really nice actually with the weather and all.” 

“Alright cool.” He nodded. “Let’s cook?”

Yoongi was being extra touchy. You were boiling the water and he would swiftly grab the chopsticks in front of you from behind, making you feel his chest. You fully knew well that he could easily grab the utensils without doing that, but for some reason the demons were working hard at the moment. He even leaned his chin over your shoulder as you were chopping some sausages. At this point he could be doing it on purpose for all you knew. 

He did not stop when you both started to eat. From the smooth wiping your lips from food to feeding you. Who was this person and what had he done to Yoongi you might never know. 

Right after washing the dishes and escaping a few of Yoongi’s teases, you both chilled on the sofa. As you browsed through Netflix, you could sense him scooting closer to you. You could feel his body warmth that automatically made yours grew hotter as well. 

“What are we watching?” He asked with a husky voice. By this point he was hugging your waist and rested his body weight on you. 

“I was thinking some action? You love those right?”

“I do.” 

You paused. Why was the tone of his voice sounded slightly off and why was he looking at you funnily?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He broke into a small smile. “Nothing.”

“Stop or I’ll make you watch Puss in Boots!” You whined. 

And then it hit you. The cat! You were too busy being swayed, head in the clouds, fantasizing, that you forgot why he was initially visiting you in your apartment.

“My cat!” You exclaimed loudly, which made Yoongi jumped and sat back up from his position. 

You missed the look of confusion in Yoongi’s face as you ran quickly to your room to pick up the furball in your bedroom. 

“I can’t believe I forgot about him!” You chuckled with your pet now in your arms. “He doesn’t like roaming around, he mostly sleeps in my room.”

Yoongi just looked at you, quizzically. As if he could not believe his eyes. 

“Meet Zuko!” You smiled, proudly showing your cat. “Zuko, meet Yoongi.” You giggled and shoved the cat to the man’s hands. 

He stared at the cat blankly for a good few seconds before gently petting the creature’s head. 

“Uh, hi.” He said, sounding lightly awkward. “He’s actually really cute.”

“I know right!” You grinned. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Sure.” He said, sounding a little unsure. 

The man sat down with your cat on his lap, slowly stroking the soft white fur of its tiny body. You bent down, sat on the carpet on his knee level to pet the cat. Somehow seeing you smile lovingly at the cat made Yoongi’s lips curled into a soft smile as well. 

“You’re adorable.” Yoongi said. 

“He’s the cutest cat, I know.”

“No, I mean you.” 

“Oh.” You shyly looked away, hoping the nervous giggles did not give it away. “Thank you.” 

Yoongi chuckled and huffed a sigh. “I can’t believe there’s actually a cat.”

“Huh?” You crooked your head to the side, wondering what the guy meant by that. “Of course there is? What do you mean?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He laughed. “You don’t know?”

“Uh, no?” 

He ruffled your hair and laughed again, this time a little bit louder than before. You were still stunned, too confused to process when he quickly pulled you in and kissed your forehead. Suddenly you did not want to protest about how messy he just made your hair. 

“It’s alright, maybe next time.” 

You covered your face with both of your palms.  “What’s with you today?!” You said with your hands still covering your face. 

“I like you.” He shrugged. “Might not be the most animated guy out there so I’m just letting you know.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m so confused with you today???” You said with flushed face. “Oh my god, that’s not the point though! I like you too!”

He chuckled. “Let’s just get back to the movie?”

The vibe after that conversation calmed down. Maybe it was the whole letting-the-cat-out-of-the-bag thing on your feelings making the air less thick. You ended up just cuddling, snuggling to each other while watching The Notebook. You both hated romance movies, but somehow finished the entire movie anyway after you misclicked it in the first place. It was nice and warm being in Yoongi’s arms and you were afraid you wouldn’t want to ever let go. 

And it was finally time for him to go home. Crazy how you did not notice the time went by so fast. Heck, you didn’t even notice the screen was already playing another movie. How could you when Yoongi was caressing your hair ever so gently? Goodness gracious. 

“Hey, I have to go now. Meeting in an hour, remember?” He tapped your shoulder. 

“I’m not letting you go.” You whined, hugging him tighter. 

He laughed. “Silly, I can come again tomorrow.”

You sat back up and looked at him. “Really???”

“I mean yeah, you don’t have work on Sunday, right?” He smiled. “If you want to, that is.”

“I want to.” You giggled. 

He flashed his gummy smile one more time before getting up from your couch. You walked with him to the door and waited for him to grab his jacket. The whole time you were stalling, asking him the most random questions, and made the silliest remarks. You just didn’t want him to go home yet, especially after finding out that he liked you too. 

“As much as I’d love to talk more about how much I disliked the whole education system, I really have to go now.” He chuckled. 

“Okay.” You pouted. You watch as he got up from tying his shoelaces. 

He huffed a sigh and smiled. “Come closer.”

You did as told without thinking and in a quick seconds, somehow you were pulled into a soft kiss. It was a soft peck and you could feel his smile through it. He didn’t gave you a chance to react as he swiftly let go. 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Come on…” You whined again and covered your face in awkwardness, and he could only laugh at you. “Go! Before I lock you up!”

“I’ll text you.” He waved and you finally closed your door. 

You found yourself giggling and smiling to yourself like an idiot. This was new. Whatever in the fresh hell was that, you couldn’t lie to yourself that you were into this somewhat bold and flirty side of him. 

You casually walked back to your couch and switched the tv to youtube. As you let random science podcast video play, you decided to check your phone, realizing you had not text your friend back yet. 

“What do you mean by giving a score?”

Your friend replied almost too immediately. You were shocked to see the usage of caps lock. 

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW??????!!!!! WTF???”

“Okay, explain?????”

“Poor Yoongi has to deal with your dumbass 😔” 

“Shut up 🖕🖕🖕”

“It’s a code. You say that instead of asking to come over and have sex. Basically the new netflix and chill.”

“… okay. OKAY???!!!!!!”

“Bestie, did something happen though??? 😍”

“SO THAT’S WHY HE TOLD ME HE WAS SURPRISED THAT THERE WAS ACTUALLY A CAT???? OMFGGGGGG!!!!!! ASFDKSPSKSG 😭😭😭”

You put down your phone to muffle your tiny scream with your knuckles. You recalled him mentioning a next time. Then you also recalled him wanting to come over again tomorrow. Needless to say, it was finally time to let out that one cute underwear you had been keeping in your drawer for months.

Thank you for reading! 🐈‍⬛💕

[railingsofsorrow]

drabble #11

summary: you are caught red handed squinting while reading and your coworkers don't let it slide.

w.c: 682

warnings/content: no warnings just fluff and bickering between friends; annoyance towards dirty lenses (based on a personal experience); secret relationship (implied).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“pretty girl.”

you were writing something down in a post-it note that you thought was relevant for the investigation before derek's voice came out of nowhere, startling you.

you look up at him, frowning, “why do you have to sneak up on people like that?”

“where are your glasses?” he inquired, narrowing you down with a suspicious look. his arms crossed over his chest as he had the serious stance he usually carried when he was trying to figure someone out. you straightened your back slightly, choosing to go back to your reading since you didn't have a reading speed of 20 000 words per minute and you also didn't want to answer that question.

see, here's the thing. glasses are annoying. dealing with dirty lenses is the worst part of wearing them, because as soon as you clean them up, they get absolutely filthy in the next second. also, you broke your lenses at least three times given your line of work.

so, yes, you purposely forgets them a few days a week to not deal with these issues.

maybe more than just a few days a week.

and your coworkers decided to make a comment or give you a look every time they catch you squinting up at a page.

“hey,” you glared up at derek morgan as he flickered your case file much to your annoyance. “i'm talking to you. where are your glasses? can you even see me right now?”

“shut up, derek.”

“do I need to get you a new pair to leave it here in the office?” he asked with indignation written all over his face. “that's the only way you'll wear them!”

“I don't need to wear them.” you practically hissed at him before he broadcasted the conversation into the entire bullpen. “they're reading glasses, it's not like I need to have them on all the time.”

“the strength of your glasses recently increased to 2. so you do need to wear them if you don't want it to get worst.” spencer dropped his things on his desk, butting in on the conversation as if he had been invited. you scowled, not the slightest amused. he only shrugged.

“see what I'm saying, pretty girl?” derek gave you a look. he resigned with a ruffle to your hair then walked away to make some coffee.

you let out a sigh, fixing up your strands in frustration.

“here.” you looked down at the object placed in your lap. “you forgot it at my place last night.” you blinked up at him, mouth agape.

“i-what?”

“at the bedside table?” spencer gave you a look. the faint memory of your eyeglasses case on top of his bedside table came to your mind.

which was why you couldn't recall where your glasses were at home. you had been late for work and decided to give up on the search.

but they weren't even at your place.

��I cleaned them up.” he added.

“oh. right.” you took the case from him, a coat of pink painting your cheeks. you hoped he didn't expect you were going to wear them. “thank you.”

“thankfully you didn't purposely forgot it at home, right?” spencer softly teased, poking your hip which earned a kick in his ankle.

“shut up.”

he chuckled, stealthily eyeing the bullpen that was fairly empty because it was still early in the morning. he leaned down and quickly pecked your cheek then the corner of your mouth.

“spencer!” you hissed, a warning in your tone as you looked around for any prying eyes.

grinning cheeky at you, he took a few steps back. probably to go to the kitchen to grab the coffee derek was taking too long to bring. “movie night at 8 again?” he mouthed.

with a roll of your eyes, you nod “yes.” you mouthed in return, sticking your attention back to the twenty files to be finished at your desk.

“put your glasses on!” he said out loud on purpose, now attracting attention.

you groaned, hiding your face between your hands.

idiot. an absolute idiot.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

[benevolentbones]

break up | spencer reid x reader

warnings: mostly fluff! mentions of physical abuse and readers ex boyfriend. gender neutral reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: reader announces their breakup with their boyfriend and spencer is more than pleased.

a/n: i hope you all enjoy this fic! wrote it during work:) reblogs and comments appreciated <3

it was a cold monday morning at the bau. everyone was busy filing away case reports at their respective desks, everyone bar spencer reid who was leaning against your desk with two cups of coffee in his hand, awaiting your arrival.

his eyes shot up to the clock that hung on the wall by the elevator. the bright neon numbers reading ‘09:18’. spencer’s brows furrowed as he scanned the bullpen. you were never this late.

almost on cue the elevator doors sprung open and you stumbled out, carrying a large duffel bag on your back, accompanied by your usual satchel. spencer’s gaze landed on you as you walked to your desk, his puzzled expression quickly changing into one of relief.

as you drew closer to your desk, spencer could make out your features more clearly. you looked tired, the dark circles under your puffy eyes evident.

he placed down both cups of coffee on your desk carefully, greeting you when you finally slung the duffle bag near his feet.

“morning y/n…is everything okay?” he quizzed, your eyes softening when they met his.

“hi spence- i’m fine- how are you?” you muttered, taking a quick seat at your desk.

spencer could tell something was off, it didn’t take being a profiler to realise something had happened.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, clearly concerned.

“i- i broke up with my boyfriend last night.” you admitted, feeling a anxious sensation rush through your body as you recalled the events from yesterday.

his eyes widened, a look of shock etched onto his pale features. “what? what happened?”

“he- he wasn’t treating me good…and i know i deserve better, right?” you questioned, more to yourself than him.

spencer took a step closer, resting a gentle hand on your arm. you felt his warm touch, instantly causing your anxious feeling to subside.

“of course- you deserve the best.”

“thanks, spencer.” you rested your head against his side, a deep sigh escaping your lips.

he smiled warmly at your actions, moving his hand from your arm and placing it on your hair, running it over in a soothing motion.

you and spencer had been friends and coworkers for over three years, everyone in the team could tell there seemed to be something more there- but when you started dating your ex, everyone was shocked.

“anyway- enough about me. did you go on that date morgan set you up on?” you questioned, pulling away from spencer to look him in the eyes.

spencer looked down and chuckled slightly, a small blush spreading across his cheeks. “well not exactly… i kind of chickened out at the last minute.”

“oh no, why?” you couldn’t help but feel a slight relief at the mention of the cancelled date.

he sheepishly looked away from you for a moment, before meeting your gaze again. he ran a hand through his awkwardly and let out an embarrassed laugh. “i don’t know…i always get so nervous at the thought of these things… and i wasn’t really feeling it with her.”

“aw spence, don’t be nervous, anyone would be lucky to go on a date with you..and you’ll find someone soon.”

he gave you a lopsided smile, a hint of a blush still evident on his face. “are you sure about that?” he teased, before adding. “i think you’re one of the only people who think that.”

“don’t say that- you’re smart and funny and handsome-“ he cuts you off with a smile.

“you think i’m handsome?”

“of course i do-“ you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, you couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the man who stood before you.

spencer wore a dark shirt which he rolled up neatly exposing his forearms, paired with dark suit pants. his gun holster was tucked away at his side, more evident when he raised his arm to push back his brown locks.

before he could say anything your phone began to ring, your smile dropped as you reached into your pocket to pull the darn thing out.

“seems like someone is trying to ruin our moment.” he muttered out lowly, a blush speeding across his cheeks once again.

you pressed your cellphone to your ear, a sigh escaping your lips as you listened to someone ramble on the other line. spencer attempted to listen in, but couldn’t make out what the angry voice on the other end was saying.

“yea-okay-fine.” you pulled your phone away from your ear, pressing the end call button before practically throwing your phone onto your desk.

“is everything alright?” he asks, slightly skeptical when you hang up the call.

“yeah, it’s just-“ you let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through your unruly locks. “he’s coming to get his things now- i told him to wait until after work.”

“he’s coming here?” spencer’s brows furrowed.

you nodded in response, casting your eyes down to the duffel bag on the floor. “he’s going to meet me outside but…”

spencer could pick up your hesitation, tilting his head to the side slightly. “..you don’t want to be alone with him.” he guessed aloud.

“yeah…it wasn’t exactly a mutual breakup..i just don’t want him to do anything.” you clasped your hands together, fidgeting with your fingers as you spoke.

spencer’s features hardened, a feeling of anger washing over him. he let out a breath to calm himself before he spoke. “has..has he done something to hurt you before?” he attempted to make eye contact with you.

when you couldn’t meet his gaze, his heart sank. how long had he been treating you like this? hurting you? if he had known- he wouldn’t done something, probably something he would regret.

“he- he was angry a lot. he threw things, broke things…he only hit me a few times.”

spencer practically flinched when you mentioned that he hit you. anger filled his dark eyes but he remained calm when he spoke.

“a few times- he should never have hurt you in the first place. why- why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve- helped?” there was a slight distress evident in his voice.

“i was embarrassed. i thought maybe he was having a bad day- i thought he loved me..” you trailed off, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. “i guess i’m a little bit unlovable.” you let a sad laugh pass from your lips.

spencer frowned at his, guiding his hand to your face so you would look him in the eyes.

“don’t say that. you aren’t unlovable. you are caring and smart and beautiful-“ he trailed off as he listed the traits he loved about you so much.

you let out a small chuckle. “thanks spence…i guess we both kinda suck at relationships.”

he returned the laugh clearly agreeing with your words, before he spoke. “yeah, i suppose we do. though i doubt i suck as much as your ex does.”

“you definitely don’t suck as much as him…spence? would you come outside with me when he shows up?” you questioned, your hands still nervously fumbling on your lap.

“of course, i’ll do anything you need me to.” he placed a hand on top of yours, easing your nervousness.

~

you waited outside, spencer at your side, with the duffle bag slung over your shoulder. your ex had messaged you saying he was on the way, so you nervously rocked back and forth on your feet.

spencer could sense your unease, he leaned down to you whispering out. “it’s okay, y/n. i’m here.”

you gave him a small smile, before your eyes landed on your ex boyfriend walking towards the bau. he looked mad.

your ex marched forward, stopping in-front of you. his dark hair was slicked back, you recalled the amount of hair gel he used to slather onto his head every morning.

“it’s all here.” you spoke, passing the bag to your ex, jordan. he snatched it from your grasp, causing you to jump slightly. spencer frowned, placing a protective hand on your back, ready to step between you and your ex at a moments notice.

jordan’s blue eyes scanned your form and then moved on to spencer, he was a lot taller than jordan. your ex let out a disgusted tutt, taking a step closer to you.

spencer immediately wedged himself between you and jordan, putting one hand forward to prevent the shorter man from getting closer.

“this must be who you left me for then? slut.” jordan spat, attempting to gaze upon you but blocked by spencer’s form.

spencer’s eyes flashed with anger at jordan’s comment, immediately pushing the shorter man back.

“don’t you call them that- you have your shit so leave, before i do something.”

jordan scanned spencer, contemplating wether or not he could take the younger man on. inevitably he decided just to back off, swearing once more at you before turning on his feet and walking off.

once jordan had disappeared from sight, spencer turned around, eyeing your smaller form.

“are you okay?” spencer asked, letting out a sigh of relief.

“no..i’m fine.” you mumbled out, a sad expression fixed on your features.

spencer reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “good…that’s good. if he ever bothers you again i’ll knock his lights out.”

you smile at his comment, relishing his brief contact with your skin

“thank you..” your smile faltered for a moment, your brain fixed on jordan’s comment.

“is..everything okay?”

“i’m sorry- about what he said. that i left him for you.”

spencer was quiet for a moment, thinking over your words. his cheeks turn a shade of red but he attempts to hide it. “no- it’s fine, it’s not like it’s true, is it?-“

a small blush tints your cheeks, as you chew your lip. “i…yes. but it’s not like- you don’t-“ you splutter out.

“you know i don’t what?” spencer seems dumbfounded by your words, questioning you with a curiosity to his tone.

“i know you don’t like me like that- you were going on that date.” you mumbled out, averting his intense gaze.

he took a step closer to you, analysing your features. “oh that- i’ve been trying to find every excuse not to go out with the people morgan tries to set me up with- i don’t have feelings for them. in fact i-“ he seemed a bit nervous, the next words he was going to utter out getting caught in his throat.

“…you what?” your eyes meet his again, a hopeful expression on your face.

“i- i’ve been in love with you…this whole time.” he finally managed to get the words out, afraid of how you’d react.

he’s unable to hide the fact that he’s nervous, he’s worried about how you’ll respond, knowing he can’t lie to you anymore.

you pulled him in for a hug, your arms wrapping tightly around his torso. spencer, not expecting a hug, slowly returns the gesture his long arms enveloping your form.

“this isn’t you awkwardly letting me down easily, is it?” he let out a nervous laugh.

you responded with a chuckle, pulling away from the hug. “no…” you paused, scanning his features, a mix of hope and worry.

“i- i love you too.” you announced. a wave of relief washed over spencer, he lets out a sigh before smiling and bringing a hand to your cheek.

“say it again…please?” he had being waiting so many years, hoping one day you would say those words to him.

“i love you, spencer reid.” you spoke slowly, cheeks flushed. he gave you a grin before pulling you in and pressing his soft lips to yours.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna

[screeching-bunny]

Part 2 on the Yandere supernatural heram please.

Yandere! Supernatural Harem pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

Your first ever viable memory was of a supernatural creature. At the young age of three, you encountered an extremely tall woman with long black hair dressed in a white dress. Looking back at the memory, she ended up turning out to be an urban legend called Hachishakusama. The eight feet tall women loomed down over you and followed you wherever you went. Everytime she was nearby you could hear her utter the sound “po” over and over again. Anytime you brought this up to your parents they would just brush it off as you being imaginative and thought that you made an imaginary friend. “Would your friend like to join us for dinner tonight?” Never, would they actually take your comments.

It wasn’t until you got tired of her appearance did you actually start to confront her. With your limited variety of vocabulary and baby voice, you spring out the sentence of “Why you follow me?” Only to be met with silence as you stomp your little feet on the ground. Geez how rude of her didn’t she hear that you asked a question?

Suddenly, the woman reaches her arms out to grab you. The grip of her hug was strong and firm. You were barely able to move around that much. Your tiny little brain panicked as you struggled to get free. It was the first time that you’ve ever experienced real fear. Soon, the woman opened her mouth and said, “Won’t you come home with me child. I’ll make sure to take care of you and treat you better than your biological parents.” You didn’t get a chance to respond before your mother burst into your room and screamed.

After that incident your parents took you to a Buddhist temple so that you could be dispelled from evil spirits or entities. This however, never really worked because some form of shape or another they just kept on crawling back. When your parents thought that you were safe you were finally able to leave the temple. Your parents wanted you to be extra safe so they decided to move out of the house and buy a new one. Thankfully, due to this incident they were more aware and took your concerns about others very seriously from then on.

Another vivid memory that you could recall was when you were at the age of eight. It was at the time when your new neighbors moved into the house next to yours. Your father wanted to greet your new neighbors and took you along with him. You remember waiting on their doorstep as your father knocks on the door. A few minutes pass and he knocks again. “Maybe they're not home, let’s come back later.” Just then the door swings open and out comes a tall blonde man. “Hi, we’re your new neighbors. We just came by to greet you and welcome you to our neighborhood.” The blonde man stared for a second before saying, “Thanks so much for that and your formalities. You have such a cute kid. I have two twin boys about their age, do you think they could play together?”

Just like that you were in the neighbor’s yard with his two twin sons. They were definitely an odd bunch with long bangs covering your eyes. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel their eyes following your form. As time went on hanging around them wasn’t that bad; they were very nice to be around and listen to basically everything you said. The only problem was that they were overly clingy, everywhere you were they just had to be as well. Another red flag was that they would never allow you to see their eyes no matter how much you pleaded and pestered, they would never allow you to see their eyes.

By the time that you were in the fifth grade, you three were inseparable best friends. During your time with them however, students at your elementary school started to go missing more frequently. An incident that you could remember was when you told the twins that you liked some kid and were planning to confess soon. A few weeks later your crush was missing and a community search was sent out. No matter how hard everyone looked no one could find them, it was almost as if they had disappeared out of thin air.

As the years went on more creatures showed up to you but they seemed to be intercepted by some weird force. You made sure to keep this a secret from everyone but your parents. It wasn’t until your senior year of high school that you found out the truth about your two best friends. One day, you just got so curious about what their eyes looked like that you peaked at one of the twin’s eyes when he was his face. His eyes were pitch black and darker than charcoal. Even though you didn’t know it at the time, they were called black eyed children.

Safe to say, you were extremely creeped out by this discovery but were even more creeped out that they were planning on kidnapping you to some faraway place. Yeah heck no, so on the day of graduation, you decided to run away from home to get away from them. You then wrote a letter to your family basically saying, “Yeah, so my childhood friends aren't actually human and it’s best I leave before anything happens to you or me peace out, xoxo your child.”

Leaving home was pretty rough for you. You’ve never felt so alone before in your entire life and to top it all off you were a newly fresh adult. Making it into an adult transition was difficult and confusing but you somehow managed with that.

Blasting into the future now, you were in quite a predicament. Waking up with your limbs tied to a bedpost was not your ideal way of starting your morning but hey at least your kidnapper didn’t you hard rope. Instead, it was a really thick ribbon and lace that bonded your arms. Your eyes start to adjust to the light as your vision starts to get clearer you notice that most of the furniture is Victorian styled. Soon you hear footsteps reach to the and it starts to open.

“My love, it seems that you're finally awake. Oh how I’ve dreamed of this moment, I can’t believe that this is real.” Wow this was totally not creepy whatsoever. Taking in his appearance you notice his sharp fangs and long glistening hair. Yeah he is definitely a vampire, this is so annoying you really did not feel like being a blood bag right now.

“Can you please untie me? I promise not to run away.” Before you could get a response from him, the ground suddenly started to shake, and you could feel your arms being freed. As you get up to run from your captor, you feel the arms of someone grabbing your waist. In a blink of an eye, you feel someone lift you up and fly you away from the vampire. “GOD DAMN IT, NOT THIS AGAIN.”

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part One

Featuring (in the next part): Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Azriel left you in the Autumn Court border while Rhys was at a ball with Amarantha and the other High Lords, leaving you trapped outside of Velaris with the enemy... Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of wings and skin burning, misogyny, alludes to SA, let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

You stood in your black and navy dress, feeling ridiculously out of place next to the maroons, dark greens, and golds of the Autumn Court. While Azriel, one of your best friends and your brother's Spymaster, escorted you to the Court, he quickly forgot his guard duty and winnowed away to find Mor.

"Mor's upset. I gotta go." Was his excuse, leaving you alone and outcast in the Forest House. According to Azriel, taking care of a safe female in Velaris (that he had puppy dog eyes for) was more important than guarding of the Lady of the Night Court in enemy territory. You were sure Rhys would be pissed if you decided to tell him about Azriel's disappearance.

You were starting to feel tired and bored as you stood on the wall, so you decided to leave. If you could get out of the Forest House bounds and cross the wards, you could winnow back to the town home. You really wanted to get out of this dress and take a nice bath. The Autumn chill wasn’t terrible, but you missed the summer breeze in your city.

You walked out of the court, watching as most of the Autumn Court guards paid you no attention. As you made your way out of the Forest House, you took in the fresh air. It was always too stuffy and crowded in ballrooms for you. You were glad to be outside. At least you could stretch your wings out here.

You tested your winnowing abilities as you made way through the wards. However, just as you made to winnow back home, your magic stuttered. You let out a small gasp, trying to reach down to that deep pool of darkness, but just a small puddle was left. You took another breath, trying to recall what you drank. You came up empty, literally, as you didn’t take any drink offered throughout the night.

You heard Rhys’s voice ring through your head. “Keep Velaris safe. Don’t tell anyone. Amarantha has taken our magic. Be careful. Protect the city. Protect each other.” And then he went silent. Your mind… you tried reaching out to him but nothing happened.

You started to panic, looking around to see if somehow Azriel came back for you. But from what you could tell, you were alone. You almost turned back to enter the Forest House. But, with Autumn being nothing short of an enemy, you decided to chance your luck with the forest in front of you. It was too wooded to take off from your current spot, so maybe you could find a clearing ahead.

Taking a deep breath, keeping calm, you started to walk north. If you could make it to Winter, maybe Kallias would allow you to cross into Night uninterrupted. Winter was normally your closest ally, and you quite liked the High Lord when you met him.

You walked for a few minutes, taking deep, calming breaths as you made your way deeper into the woods. Every sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you were just waiting to see that clearing of trees.

Instead, three males approached from the right. You took a deep breath, tucking in your wings as you pressed against a tree. The males appeared drunk, but stable. They weren’t stumbling just yet, but you could smell the alcohol from where you stood. Which meant they would catch your scent as soon as the wind turned.

You took another deep breath, walking forward. They couldn't touch a member of the Night Court. They would be butchered for it. You kept your head high as you continued to walk, only pausing when one of the males called out to you.

"Hey! What are you doing out in these woods?" Sentinels. That's the kind of clothing they wore. They were guards for the forest.

"I'm going home. Can't winnow." You said, tucking in your wings in hope they wouldn't see them in the shadows of the night. You tried to will the darkness to you as you normally would, as Rhys taught you to, but only a little bit of it budged. Amarantha took the High Lords powers... meaning each and every other power tied to their court would be restricted even more.

"Unfortunate. You look like you're a long way from home, as an Illyrian." He said, stalking over to you. It seemed they had no problem provoking a member of the Night Court.

"I am lady of the Night Court. I need to get to my people." You said.

"Ahh, the Night Court." Another one said in a mocking tone. "Lady? You look little more than a whore to me." He said and walked from behind his friend, backing you into a tree. "Shall we see what the Night Court thinks of us when we burn its lady's wings to ashes?" He asked, fire flickering on his finger tips.

Of course. They were in their home Court. No matter how little magic the High Lord had, the land would provide more of it. "My brother will incinerate you if you do."

"My brother." The male teased in a high pitched voice. "Who? Rhysand? That little bastard?" He asked, hand nearing your wing. "He won't even care when we're done with you." He said.

You tried to side step, but two sets of arms restrained you. And then came the pain.

You let out a blood curdling scream as hot, burning flames enveloped your wings. Along with the bark of the tree behind you cutting into your tendons. You fought as hard as you could, pulling away from the males as best you could. The males dug deeper, surely drawing blood from your arms but you didn't know as the fire tore through your wings. Over your pain and screams, you heard a belt unbuckle.

"Never fucked an Illyrian before. Let's see if what they say is true." The male in front of you said. You continued to struggle, but the pain of your wings burning was too much. The smell of the membrane and, gods... the skin of your back, was enough to make you pass out. But you stayed conscious, willed the little magic in you to cast a net of darkness around your wings. You prayed to the Mother that the darkness would snuff out just one tendril of the flames.

Your screams must have alerted the guards of the Forest House, because next thing you knew, a familiar voice was commanding the males to step away. You fell to the ground as the males released you. As quickly as the flames enveloped your wings, the were snuffed out. That didn't mean your wings were repaired. They were completely in ruins. Torn in almost every place, tendons burnt to a crisp that the most important ones had snapped. Your back was raw, blisters forming on the skin. Even the braid that cascaded down your back was burnt, leaving your hair singed and ragged against your shoulders.

You whimpered, the small ounces of your magic working to heal whatever it could.

"Lady (Y/N)," You heard that familiar voice again. You couldn't move. You couldn't look up. Who was talking to you? "It's Eris... we need to get you to a healer before this gets worse." The High Lord's heir said.

"Worse?" You rasped, your voice nearly inaudible because of your screams. You couldn't bring yourself to keep talking. Only thinking in your head as your body sagged further into the ground, nothing is worse than this.

Azriel's back seized in pain, a terrible, yet amazing feeling snapping in his gut.

Rhys had spoken to them mind to mind just minutes ago, telling them what happened. And leaving Amren in charge of them.

Azriel couldn't leave Velaris. Whatever magic Rhys threw out completely shut the wards and borders. He couldn't winnow to his High Lord. And more importantly, he couldn't winnow to you. He asked Mor to try and get out, but she was stuck as well. Rhys trapped them inside the city, effectively trapping you outside as well.

Only thing is, Rhys expected Azriel to be with you. To protect you and get you home safely from Autumn. Instead, he went to Mor because she was upset about something. And left you stranded.

He was just about to tell the others that they needed to find a way out when the pain and the snap hit. In a few blinks, his entire world shifted.

The others went silent as Azriel jerked where he stood, his wings fluttering behind him.

"Azriel?" Cassian asked, frowning as his brother jerked again.

Azriel took a few deep breaths as the pain died down, and then came to the horrible realization of what snapped in his gut.

"(Y/N)-" He paused and stared at his family. The ones that might just kill him when he said what he was about to. "(Y/N) is in the Autumn Court."

"What? I thought she came back with you?" Mor said.

"She's in the Autumn Court," Azriel stated again, ignoring Mor, "and she is my mate."

Part Two

A/N: Oof... this was so fun to write!

Main Masterlist

[helluvapoison]

4. Trying to hide your injury from them, but failing miserably once you faint right in front of them, "5. Where does it hurt the most?" with Lucifer and reader

Injured Prompt

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Did you know when you roll your ankle you’re not supposed to walk on it? You might’ve known that if the Pride Ring’s hospital ever answered the fucking phone!

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

If your boyfriend Lucifer wasn’t out and about today, making up for some odd months of meetings, he could’ve teleported you there in no time. Then again, if he was here he might summon Belphegor themself. Not wanting to bother anyone, you told yourself it would be fine. Besides with Hell’s “no checking out early” healing abilities, it would right itself on its own by tomorrow! That continued to be your mantra but as the day got away from you it became harder to ignore that stabbing pain in your foot.

It certainly didn’t help that you’d overexerted yourself by helping Charlie move things up and down the hall because Nifty had clogged the pipes (again) which resulted in minor flooding damage. The whole time it felt like Vaggie’s suspicious stare saw right through your poorly worn mask. Charlie asked no less than 22 times if you were ok to which you waved off her concerns. It took a few hours but the furniture was moved out of the room, leaving only a mushy carpet to deal with. Neither Kiki nor Alastor could be found and since Lucifer wasn’t there to snap the problem away, the princess attempted herself. However her powers were still a bit… undisciplined. The best she could do to try and evaporate the water had actually set the carpet on fire.

Vaggie rested her hand on Charlie’s shoulder with a soft smile, “It might be time for a break, babe. Don’t want you to overdo it.” She pointedly shot that part at you.

With a sigh the blonde conceded and allowed Vaggie to usher her out.

Simultaneously grateful but cursing the downtime, you waited a minute before leaving yourself. Now that you've slowed to a stop your ankle throbbed with vengeance. Peeling your sock back to take a peek, you gasped. Your foot was definitely not purple this morning! Shit shit shit, it was definitely time for a break!

You limped to the elevator, using the wall for support when Lucifer rounded the corner. Like the wall had tried to bite you, you yanked your hand from it and forced both feet flat on the ground. You grimaced, poorly trying to conceal it with a smile.

“Duckie!” You greeted through a wheeze. Has breathing been this hard all day?

With much more enthusiasm in his voice, he sang your name and rushed over. Lucifer lifted you off the ground to spin with you in his arms, unknowingly providing momentary relief. His laugh and smile were infectious. Just a second with him had swept you into the world you shared and washed away your troubles. Unfortunately they returned once he set you down and despite how gently he did, you hissed when you touched the floor again.

“What was that?” He asked with a tilted head, holding onto your waist.

“Oh, uh, I’m practicing my Sir Pentious impression!”

You’re unsure why you lied. Maybe a part of you wanted to pretend for a little longer. You think back to the time you got a paper cut and he forced you into bed rest for three days. Once he found out about your ankle nearly snapping in half, you would, inadvertently, send him spiraling into his mother duck state of mind! And the poor man never seemed to catch a break! You didn’t want to stress him out over something that would heal.

He seemed to believe your fib.

At least someone did because it was getting harder to convince yourself.

“It’s good, it’s good!” Lucifer nodded thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. You instantly knew he was trying to recall just who the serpent fellow was. “Anywho, I ran into Charlie just now. Heard this place almost fell apart without me, huh?”

He nudged your arm with his elbow, prompting you to laugh instead of focusing on the pain. You forced the sound out a bit too much to try and make leaning against the wall look natural. It didn’t. You almost collapsed against the surface, sliding down as your leg began to give. Lucifer slipped his hands under your arms, doing the majority work of holding you up. Your head began nodding off and you realized you were face to face with him. Not a good sign considering your height difference. He was wearing his nervous grin that you knew all too well he only put on before he started panicking internally.

“Darling, is this part of the Sir Pina Colada impression? Starting to, uh, worry over here.”

“Nothing, nothing. I think… I just… nee..”

The last thing you see is Lucifer’s smile dropping entirely, pupils shrinking to worry-filled slits.

Then black.

~

There’s a moment while waking up where it’s pure bliss. You’re not you; you’re not anyone. You barely exist— and then you do. The worries, memories, pain; it all comes rushing up on you like a train and hits you just as hard. You scrunch your nose and pull your eyebrows together as you attempt to sit up. Silk under your palms have you acutely aware that you’re not in your bed, but Lucifer’s. And you know what they say about speaking of the devil.

“Oh no! Nonononono, I don’t think so,” He sings, gently pushing your shoulders back until you’re flat against the plushy pillows, “You’ve got some explaining to do. ”

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” You groan, “I thought I had it under control! I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Au contraire, darling, I want to worry about you! Just maybe not that much next time, alright? I think I had a heart attack! If that’s what those feel like… Ech.” Lucifer was wracked by a shiver, shaking off the final wave with his head.

You let out a breathy laugh.

The man smiled at the sound and honed his full attention on you, forcing a serious, but soft, tone, “Now! Doctor Morningstar is here to help, so tell me, where does it hurt most? ”

“My ankle.”

You recoiled when he attempted to peel away your sock. He muttered an apology, studying your foot rather unfazed. As interesting as it was to watch him get truly somber about something, you couldn’t appreciate it right now. The fire spreading from your ankle stole all your senses and he wasn’t even touching it anymore.

“It wasn’t all purple-y yesterday right? We might have to amputate.”

“Lucifer.” You growled through grit teeth.

He chuckled. “Sorry. That one killed when Charlie was younger. Ok, ok! Pain management first, jokes later.”

There was a heavy knock on the door that made both of you turn your heads. Your eyes narrowed while a bright grin spread across his porcelain face.

“Are you expecting someone?” You asked suspiciously.

“Belphegor, of course!”

Of course.

[timewillpasssoon]

NO ME QUEDA MÁS

pairing . Joost Klein x singer-gn! reader

content . you are addressed as 'reader', reader can be seen as male or female, mentions of unrequited love, jealousy, insecurities, suggestive mentions, making out, best friends to lovers, angst to fluff

summary . you find out that your crush of three years, Joost Klein, might have a girlfriend, you can't hold onto your feelings anymore.

word count . 2.7k words, 15,6k characters

author's note . i love Selena, i grew up with her music and this song is the bomb. i HAD to make a fic. wanted to make this pure angst but the angel on my shoulder said no. sorry for not uploading, gas leak in my house iususisjhs, also sorry to all the Jazlyns...

These past three years have been an agonizing struggle, concealing your true feelings in the depths of your heart. Having to pretend that you don't see him in a romantic light. During meet-ups with the friend group, you have act as if his light touches don't affect you, that they don't make you think of unspoken actions.

Despite knowing Joost for a decade, it's only recently, three years ago, that you've confronted your true feelings. The realization that your heart yearns for more than just a friendship with him shattered your view of Joost. You recalled of all the time where you dreamt of him. The way he loved you in those dreams made you squeal with excitement, though, you always remind yourself that those are just silly dreams. The weight of this secret is unbearable. No one can know of this, especially Joost.

A year ago, a new addition was made upon the friend circle you are apart of. Appie introduced her into the group, Jazlyn. She quickly found her place among the group, being welcomed with open arms by everyone, which included you. With each gathering from then on, the dynamic shifted, letting her in on the activities the group does. As precious time went by, everyone could see the slight bond between Jazlyn and Joost.

You got word that the two were hanging out privately within nine months of knowing her. There was an unwelcomed feeling in you, jealousy, which was brewing up inside you. The horrid feeling took root within your heart. The thought of Joost being with some else haunted you. When they were seen to have a moment together, shadows filled with doubt and insecurity casted over you.

They were seen as a cute match, flaunted as a picture perfect match. That ignited a volcano of emotion within you, a blend of rage and sorrow. You longed to be the one by his side, to be his perfect match. Yet the shards of your broken heart prevented you from vocalizing your feelings. Your silence was too haunting that Joost couldn't help but notice. He was accustomed to your endless support and enthusiasm, so when you kept to yourself for a few months, he sensed the complete switch.

The announcement of Joost's acceptance into Eurovision was exciting- thrilling. You were overjoyed with happiness, your heart filled with support. You were planning on congratulating him with a typical hug with words of support and love. But before you were able to, Jazlyn took the chance to lunged at him like a leech. She showered him with affection.

She held him in her grasp, not letting Joost go for what felt like two whole minutes, he didn't let go. You hoped he did, but he embraced her as well, pulling his right hand over her. Looking at everyone, then to you. Full eye contacted was made, Joost really could sense something was wrong.

That night, you made a conscious choice to retreat into silence, to shield your heart, sacrificing the warmth of his presence to protect yourself from further pain and heartbreak.

Your interactions with Joost reduced to mere small talk. Despite his much persistent attempts to figure out why you have been so detached, you would dismiss his worries by say, "I'm fine." Yet Joost remained suspicious, you're 'reassurance' was not much help.

You didn't have much courage to confess your feelings knowing something might be happening between Jazlyn and Joost.

You had nothing left other than to just cheer for the two.

All you can do is relegate yourself in the shadows, concealing the overbearing thoughts of Joost. Over the span of two lonely months, you had hope, deep in your soul, that one day he'll return to you- to stay with you. That hope slowly faded, the past two months passed breezily and there was still no confidence in you to speak your mind. Your heart having to play as if you only see him as a friend.

Within the complex code of your feelings, the realization settles in. That you played yourself a fool. You thought the love you had for Joost was to be reciprocated, but amongst more thoughts to yourself, it was truly just banter for Joost. All the jokes about being each others future every things were empty, sweet, nothings.

. year twenty thirteen

"What if I never find a boyfriend?" You say, chewing apart the gummy bear in your mouth into shreds. The scenery ahead of you two was quite beautiful. Joost and you were having a picnic in a near by park. He smiled, his eyes illuminated by the soft hues of the late afternoon. He was on your left, a light chuckles left his lips. "I'm sure you'll find someone charming and handsome, reader!"

"Someone like you?"

you joked, but now that you think back, it wasn't a joke.

He laugh at your quote-on-quote joke, his hands grabbing a gummy bear. "let's make a promise," He shifted to his right so he can fully face you, "If were are still single by the age of... thirty, we'll marry each other!" Your eyes widened, you heart beating a little more faster for some reason. Your hands shaking just a tiny bit.

"How did you come up with his promise?" You tilt your head to the right, your eyes locked with his. "I just want an excuse to be able to marry you." he pauses for your response, but your not quite sure if he's joking or not. He quickly laughed at his own joke so you can tell he wasn't serious.

Something in you wanted him to be serious.

"So?" Joost says, waiting for an answer. "Don't you think thirty is a bit young?" Joost nodded, his right hand placed on your left shoulder just now. "Fine~"

"If we are still single at thirty-five, we will marry each together!" He stuck his hand out, all his fingers down except for his pinky.

You reach for his pinky, interlocking yours with his.

"Alright!! Deal."

. year twenty twenty-four

Eurovision ended, it was an crazy event that was not at all fair. the whole time when Joost was in Sweden, he tried to text you everyday, yet you wouldn't respond. when you do reply, it would be excuses on why you haven't responded. saying that you're busy with producing your latest song, that you are at an event and so on.

Upon Joost's return to the Netherlands a week post-Eurovision, Appie and Stunje orchestrated a small gathering for everyone in the friend group to relax and celebrate the amazing achievement the three men achieved, despite the horrible treatment they got they stood tall. Reminding each other that making it to Eurovision was still a life long goal they had.

As you entered the restaurant selected by Appie and Stunje, the smell of delectable cuisines floated around the establishment lure your senses from the moment you stepped in. Approaching the hostess, you asked if there wads a reservation under the name of Joost. With a gracious smile, she directed your eyes to the spacious booth in the left side of you. You thanked her and walked to the circle booth. In the middle of the circle booth was Joost and Jazlyn, him being on Jazlyn's left side.

As you drew in a breath, a smile graced your lips. Sending a wave to your friends, commencing a exhale with a hint of nervousness. "Hey guys, sorry for being late!" You spoke up so they can hear you through out the other building's noises. Appie's grin enlarged upon your arrival. "No need for apologies, you're five minutes late tops!" He said cheerfully, as the others echoed their reassurances, Appie casually passed you a menu. "Order what you want." He encouraged you to get whatever delight you desired.

The gathering that was ensuing was a nice, relax one. Where everyone was sharing experiences and exchanges. Stunje, Appie, and Joost telling the group about the adventures they had in Sweden, beyond Eurovision. After that you eagerly said details about the latest and upcoming album in the making. The remaining in the group also recounted their own memorable adventures and enjoyed time from the preceding two months.

"To Joost!" exclaimed a friend, lifting their glass of liquor in a toast, prompting others to follow them. In unison, everyone raised their glasses, their voices saying, "To Joost!" With that announcement, they all partook in a sip, sealing the sentiment of celebration.

Some time has now past from the first shot of liquor, what seemed to be around an hour and a half of more and more talking and drinks. Throughout the event, you could feel a pair of eyes on your body. You looked at Joost a couple of times, often catching him staring at you, sometimes he wouldn't look away when you caught him. You often had to be the one looking away.

What was up with him? You think in your mind, the weight of his staring making you start to slouch in your seat. You weren't uncomfortable, you were more curious of why he would staring at you and not Jazlyn.

As the alcohol began to take its effect, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, ushering in a wave of lighthearted banter.

Amidst the hangout, one friend, ventured into more intimate territory. "So, spill, Joost and Jazlyn," they teased, their curiosity peaking. "What really goes down when you guys are alone?"

When the question popped, Joost shifted in his seat, his eyes hovering over you and the friend. Jazlyn seemed to love the question, clearly into him as well. "That's a secret between us!" She exclaimed, hinting to something suggestive. Joost shook his head in defense at her as some quietly yelped an 'oooh'. "Nothing really happened, we accidentally stumbled on each other at a cafe." His defense silenced the people at the table, he soon turned his gaze at you.

An individual detected the palpable tension polluting the atmosphere and drifted the conversation towards more joyful topics. As the subject shifted, so did the collective mood, transitioning into a brighter one. However, despite the huge effort to uplift everyone, your countenance remained stone cold, a hint of heartbreak brewing beneath the surface. Despite your façade of a fake light smile, the searing ache of what really could've between them gnawed at your soul.

You found yourself stuck in your head and loathing- yearning for him still. The desire for his touch in places deemed inappropriate stirred in your head. You wanted him all over you, and you hated yourself for it. Similar thoughts were in Joost's mind, craving to feel your hands upon his body. He wished you were the one clinging on to him, not Jazlyn.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled in your eyes until the ringtone of your phone jolted you back to the present moment. Hastily, you lowered your head to covert your face, also stealing a glance at who was calling, which was Bambie. With a shaky voice, you excused yourself from the table, "I need to take this…" The sadness in your voice betraying you. As you raised your head slightly, Joost's view revealed the glisten of tears in your eyes and the wetness of your left cheek. Rising from your chair, you swiftly answered the call and hurried out of the restaurant.

Your voice quivered slightly as you responded to the call, "Hello?" Stepping outside the establishment, you were met with Bambie's eager greeting, "Hey reader-!!!" However, their sentence trailed off as concern laced their voice. "What happened?" Bambie's voice dripped with worry, ears catching the shiver in your voice that hinted at tears.

"Nothing happened-"

"Do not say that! Tell me the truth."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing that not answering Bambie's questions would be futile.

"It's just Joost. I need to get over him. Jazlyn is clearly into him, and he's probably reciprocates those feelings," The weight of unspoken emotions bearing down on you. Finding solace on a nearby bench along a secluded pathway, you continued,

"I've held these feelings for what feels like a lifetime, yet I've never found the courage to confess. Maybe if I had spoken up years ago… maybe then, I would have stood a chance."

The discourse extended for an additional eight minutes, during which Bambie provided comfort and support. Throughout, a mutual exchange of humor ignited shared laughter. As the conversation drew to a conclusion, Bambie's attention was diverted by another incoming call, ending the conversation with you short.

Once you ended the call, you sat by yourself. The scenery before you was beautiful. Despite the unwavering support offered by Bambie, your heart remained steadfast in its love for Joost.

The thoughts in your head circled back. there was still tears in your eyes. You sighed at looked at your lap, not noticing the person walking up to you.

"You okay?"

You looked up to see who was there.

Joost.

With a swift gesture, you brushed away the traces of your tears, composing yourself and assuming an upright posture. "Yeah, I'm fine," you uttered, averting your gaze from his eyes. In response, he emitted a soft sigh, removing his jacket as he sat next to you. Draping it around your shoulders, "What's really going on?" he persisted, his tone had a twinged with concern, prompting a deeper exploration of your underlying emotions.

"You've been weird since Jazlyn was invited in the friend group."

You rolled your eyes at his try to get you out of your shell. You didn't respond to him, "C'mon reader! Please, tell me..." Joost's voice was very whiny, that made you bite your lip. "Why do you want to know? Go back inside, it's your party after all... you should be there."

"It's not fun without you. I miss you." You look at his eyes, around three inches apart from each others lips.

"I just been busy. It's taken effect on me." You weren't really lying, you have been busy with your new album. Although, that's not the real reason why you were crying today.

"Be honest with me!" He begged you with deep whininess in his voice. "Please."

As you remained motionless, a palpable tension hung in the air, from the intensity of his gaze. His piercing blue eyes wants to see every contour of your body, as if seeking to unravel the deepest secrets of you, imbuing the moment with an undeniable sense of desire.

"We should go back inside." Your asserted dominate. Your stern voice made him widen his eyes for a bit, catching him off guard, before going back to his begging eyes. His fingers lingered to yours momentarily, it was his silent plea of more connection to one another. "I'm begging you reader," He stopped to catch his breath.

"Please, please, please. I won't judge you."

You still didn't have the confidence to confess, yet you were prepared to get rejected. "Joost, I have to confess something."

You breathe in and exhale lightly. "I like you- a lot. I liked you since the day I met you."

His demeanor softened perceptibly, a subtle shift that suggested a newfound sense of ease. "If you don't like me back, I understand-." He stopped you by grabbing your hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"h-huh?"

You stared at him like he was crazy, yet he was still waiting for an answer. "I like you too reader. Since the day we had that picnic... it felt like you've casted a spell on me."

"You remember the promise?" Your heart swelling from his confession. You intertwined your fingers with his, placing both of your guy's hands on your lap.

"Yeah. I was afraid you forgot about." You laugh at that joke. You? Forget that precious moment?

Never.

"Kiss me." You whispered, not having much confidence behind those two words. He smiled, pride and love in his face. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, you and Joost's eyes locked in a silent exchange of longing and anticipation.

He inched his face closer to yours, his free hand was placed on your chin. You couldn't wait any longer, not even a second more. You filled the gap between you, lunging your lips onto his. Your free hand on the back of his head.

Your two's lips met in a tender collision, a symphony of sensation that sent shivers down each person's spine. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the gentle exploration of each other's warmth.

Joost pulled away before coming back for seconds. The small kisses grew more urgent, more steamy. The two lost themselves in the passionate, heated make out session. Them wanting more, to take off the cloth that's covering the parts they want to see.

As they broke off the kiss, their chests rose and fell between seconds. They stared at each other, lust in there eyes, yet loved was the more massive feelings as of right now.

HAD TO CUT IT SHORT OF I WANTED TO FINISH IT. lowkey would've wrote 1k more if i didn't have a deadline for myself. take care guys

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

[yeeterthek33per]

Two's Company, Three's A Crowd, Four And Five Say Let Chaos Reign (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

A/n Requested. Part three to Missing Toddlers and Mayhem :) Will Edit later, cause I'm at work atm y'all.

(Y'all this took me so long freaking long to write like 😭)

Content/Warning(s): mildly suggestive, warning you now, it does get a little itty bit spicy. Harper, Kyra, R, and Chacha ganging up on Katrina.

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"So do I get to know where we're going or are we doing a surprise again, because the last time we did this, I got my butt kicked on a public beach."

Katrina🔥❤️

"If I recall correctly, that was your fault, Miss L/n."

Katrina🔥❤️

"Also, no 😘"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"I don't recall going into this knowing you were a professional slide tackler😫"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Could have left the gear in the boot and never mentioned it. You should know us footballers are legally obligated to accept rondo challenges 😜"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"☹️"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Turn that frown upside down, Babe😊"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"🙃"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Smartass🙄"

Katrina🔥❤️

"But close enough."

Katrina🔥❤️

"Just be ready by 12, I'll be there soon😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Of course, see you soon, Gorgeous😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Wait"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"What do I wear??"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Hike meets cozy casual😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Got it, thanks, Cutie😘"

You'd been talking non stop in the days between the last time you'd seen each other in person.

Over the phone, via text, even a facetime at some point, where Harper managed to sneak in and say a very happy hello to you.

The little girl manages to bring a massive smile to your face every time Katrina talks about her.

There was always a smile on your face lately, or so your sister had pointed out just yesterday.

"I swear that woman's got you glued to your phone, dorky little smile and everything."

"Leave me alone, Ash." You whine.

A soft rap on your door lifts your head from your current position of smiling over your phone.

You really need to stop proving her point.

Ashley opens the door, a small smirk already on her face making you roll your eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"It's date time soon, why are you not ready?"

"How would you know what-"

"You told me yesterday, all dreamy eyed. Geez, she got you hypnotised too now?"

You huff.

"Whatever, why are you in here?"

"Because you're being awfully quiet about this Kat and I'm worried, because you haven't said a word about who she is or what she does."

"I haven't been murdered, I'm fine, you can stop grilling, nor are you grilling her when she gets here."

"I have to do my sisterly duties, now hurry up and get ready or else I'll have longer with her because you're running late for your date."

Glancing at the clock on your wall, she's right, it's about forty or so minutes before Katrina is due.

Standing up, you shoo the woman out of your room and quickly jump into the shower, grabbing out a pair of hiking pants, a simple short sleeve shirt and a light blue denim jacket.

By the time you're out of the shower dressed and touching up your hair, there's a knock at the door downstairs.

You fire down them, shoving your sister, who's racing you to the door, away.

As smoothly as you can, you open the door with a warm smile.

Katrina's warm smile greets your own.

She's beautiful as ever and you tell her as such, the long sleeve jacket almost matching your own except she's in shorts and sneakers and a light pink button up underneath it.

"Hey, Beautiful."

You step out the door to greet the shorter woman, arms wrapping around her, her leaning up into you, hands settling on your shoulder blades.

"Hi, Cutie."

You pout softly as she goes to pull away, and then she chuckles meeting your demands with her own lips.

Humming softly in appreciation, you squeeze her waist.

"You ready?"

Nodding, you go to shut the door behind you, keys, phone, wallet and water bottle already with you.

Of course, Ashley decides now is the perfect time to pop out, only, she pauses, surprise on her expression.

"Well... I was going to do the whole sisterly, bring her back by ten talk but... I don't need to. You two have fun!"

And with that, she slams the door behind you, giving you a loving tap to the butt.

Katrina looks confused, matching your own bewilderment at your sisters actions.

"I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea what that was."

You cough into your palm, covering a half laugh.

"Anyway, continuing on. Are we good to go?"

She nods, grabbing you by the hand, leading you to the car parked in your driveway.

Clipping in, she reverses out and starts driving off in the direction of the northern exit from the outer city, a drive you know well enough, having gone this way quite a few times.

She leans over and hands you a black cable, winking at you from her spot in the driver's seat.

"Passenger princess duties are all yours."

The cheeky grin makes you roll yours playfully with a small huff.

"Sure, babe."

Switching to some music you'd both listened to that Saturday night, your hand settles in hers across the console as you hit the highway.

"So, do I get to know, yet?"

"Nope."

It's short, the little smile on her lips doing little to mask the amusement in her tone, her brow quirking a little at the pout on your face.

"Patience."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Making a joking salute, you start to hum along to the radio, thumb caressing across the back of her hand.

She huffs, shaking her head but gives your hand a squeeze anyway.

The drive isn't overly long, no longer than any of the trips you've taken, about forty-five minutes on the road.

You feel like you almost recognise the roads she's taking but a right turn far before anything else comes up on the forested roads throws you a curveball.

Normally you'd been one of the more observant travellers on these roads, however, it seems you'd never paid the tiny dirt road any mind before now.

The greenery, denser than when you'd entered the little driveway, started to part into a small dirt and gravel alcove, to which Katrina pulls in, parking in front a small wooden bollard that lines the alcove.

There's dense green directly in front of you that splits into a small dirt and gravel path which disappears off to the right in a slow curve.

Reaching across the console, she taps your leg with a small grin.

"Hope you brought your hiking legs."

Scoffing, you nudge the woman and basically bounce out of the car in the face of her challenge.

"Damn right I did."

It starts off fairly easy, a basic hiking path for anyone, not much change in altitude but then it starts to increase, and you find yourself falling into the familiar rhythm that you love when it comes to hiking.

If you'd said that to your teenage self, she would've cried at the mention of cardio.

Katrina, it seems, falls into the same familiar feeling, the mild sweat from the hike mixing but also the complete relaxation in her stance as she moves beside you, ahead of you in smaller sections of the path and behind you as you move ahead to crest the more difficult bits first as a precautionary.

It's the first time you really fall into an understanding that someone else gets.

There's a peacefulness to the area surrounding you, bird chimes and occasional cicada chirps as you pass by certain bushes and grass patches.

You think you even spot a small rabbit hopping off the path ahead of you.

Finally, the incline slopes downward again, and then leads down and off to the left, the faint smell of moss and running water becoming more apparent to breathe in, it's refreshing.

"God, I've missed this."

She sounds rightly out of breath as she steps onto a particularly tall rock lodged into the path.

"You've been missing out, then?"

"Far too much, between how cold it got in Sweden and just not really going too far from the city, it's been a good while since I've even gotten to take Harper on smaller hikes."

"Damn, life of an athlete, much?"

A small joking lilt.

"Ha ha."

You can practically see her eye roll from where you're walking in front of the woman.

"It's not that bad, just keeps our lives hectic if anything."

You hum.

"How's Harper feel about that?"

You miss the way her lips curl up at the mention of the mini-mini.

"She loves it if anything, sleepovers with Nonna three times a week and when the international break pops up, she gets to stay with the team and see all twenty-two of her aunties and siblings."

The closer you get to the running water, the less the trees hang over the both of you and the more the suns starts to bead down on your light blue shirt, the warmth very familiar as winter shifts into spring once again.

It's been about an hour or so since you'd started off on the track.

She moves in front of you, turning with a small nod and grin in the direction of the beginning of a large clearing.

"C'mon, we're getting close."

The sun shines through the light brunette hair around the tops and sides of her head that most likely refused to be tied down properly, but in a neat, casual setting.

Slowing to a stop near where she's starting to descend a slightly steeper part of the path, you look out into the opening, a large water not far off to your one o'clock, the green moss abundant around its edges and the dampened ground surrounding the flowing water and the small pool built up around its base.

The pool breaks off into a surpisingly sandy bay that opens into a much larger river, flowing from another path away from you and out into what you see is the beach.

You nearly miss the small misstep as she steps on a mossed up stone, grabbing her arm to stop her falling, alarm on your face.

"Thanks."

"I gotcha."

You nod softly, hand squeezing her bicep, continuing jokingly.

"No hurting yourself, as much as I'd love to carry you back.."

She smacks you a little with a laugh before continuing down a different stone to avoid the same outcome.

"Real funny, Babe."

It's one massive secluded beach and it reminds you heavily of your first tryst together.

Only this time, it's much more private and less accessible, something you can almost appreciate with the nature of it all.

Privacy.

Another understanding between you.

As a public figure and known football player, Katrina knows the feeling well.

It doesn't come often, with media days a regular occurrence and spending near all of her time with teammates, club and country as well as with a two-year-old toddler at all hours of the day.

Of course, she wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

But privacy is a luxury that not even well paid athletes can afford.

So she understands the immediate droop and sigh of contentment when you see the vast empty beach and nothing but the sound of crashing waves and bird song behind you.

Letting your head fall back as you take in the cool summer breeze from the coastline, the smell of sea salt and damp greenery filling your senses, your head turns to look at the shorter woman.

She's already watching you, a small challenging smirk on her face that brings you back to the present.

"...What's up?"

"Nothing, I figured a nice walk and then a rematch would be a great way to start our day together."

"Rematch?... Wait-"

You're cut off as she suddenly pops out a soccer ball from behind her that she'd apparently managed to hide in her backpack the whole way, and tosses it towards you, darting off towards the beach.

"C'mon, I wanna see if you've learned anything yet!"

Jogging after her, you yell out.

"You mean that I'm not the professional footballer in this scenario and that I'm going to get my butt kicked again?"

"I'll make a baller out of you, yet, now get out here!"

It goes on like that for a while, how long exactly, you aren't sure but by the time you both land breathless onto the sand, mainly you, the sun is leaning more towards the other side of the sky.

"I hope you brought snacks, because I'm gonna need them after that last one."

Katrina giggles down at your dead flat form on the ground, chest heaving.

“You can’t give up on me now, to think you were just getting close to beating me.”

The teasing lilt to her voice makes you swat at her ankle lightly.

“Close, my ass. It’s like twenty-six to three.”

“Actually it’s about nineteen to six.”

She kicks you in the foot, tossing up a little sand in the air towards you in the process, landing near your face.

“Hey!”

“Whoops?”

Darting up, surprising yourself you tackle the woman into the soft white sand, landing on top of her.

“That is so not allowed, that was a dirty play ref!”

You call out to the imaginary sideline ref pointing off into the distance with a fake angry face on.

She’s laughing underneath you, almost breathless because of your weight on her stomach, and her hands settle to grip your hips, as you look back down at the woman with a small pout.

“Aw poor baby.”

It’s a little mocking tone that you pout more at.

Poking her tongue out up at you, she sits up slightly to tug you back down towards her, your hands landing either side of her head and you shift to be more level with the woman’s head.

“Hi.”

Grinning once again, you brush your nose against hers.

“Hi.”

A small peck to her lips is all she needs to tug you further down, fully sealing yourselves together, lips locked.

The breeze blows over your back, and the sounds of the waves wash away as you sink fully into the shorter woman, lips sliding across hers.

A new but familiar sensation, becoming accustomed to having the air in your lungs sucked from you every time you kiss her.

Sighing softly into her mouth, you take the opportunity to let your hand wander over the crook of her neck, before shifting to rest over her collar and then over her neck again.

It’s not intentional when you do it, but your thumb almost caresses the column of her throat and it’s her turn to sigh into the kiss.

Pulling away for a small breath, she notes the way your fingers now rest just under her jaw, on her neck, sending shivers through her.

If you noticed it, you don’t say anything, instead diving right back into her, fingers squeezing the skin slightly.

It seems you notice the way she hums into the kiss, a small smirk crossing your face as you let up once more.

The effect you have on her is shown well and truly in the way her cheeks redden and the part in her lips as her eyes open to meet yours.

“Hi.”

A warmth spreads through you at the smile she gives you once more.

“C’mon.”

Nudging you up once more, she pulls herself up, offering you a hand up.

Taking it, you stand close to her still, hands settling on her waist.

“So, what’s next then?”

Her hands grab yours and drag you over to where the bag lies in the sand.

“A little walk and wander and maybe a little bit more of that before dinner, hey?”

Grinning, you tug her towards the bag.

It’s just minutes back on the path that you tug her back into you for more.

You’d say you were someone who had quite the ability for self restraint, especially in previous relationships, but with Katrina, she’s just there, and it makes you want to kiss the daylights out of her every second you’re together.

Inevitably, it takes you both longer on the way back to the car, stopping every ten minutes to admire the scenery in a way only a couple making out against every tree can.

By the fifth time she’s resigned to let you do it every five minutes, more than happily letting the privacy you two have, consume you for the moment.

The way she tugs your neck down herself after an hour of this makes you well aware of the fact she feels the same.

Addicted to the way you taste.

Addicted to the way your lips slide so perfectly on her own.

By the time you get back to the car, you both look more than kiss-mussed, swollen lips, occasional purple marks over your neck when her teeth nipped at the skin.

Like love-sick teenagers.

But not that.

Not yet.

Pressed against the driver-side door, she looks up at you with a look you can’t describe other than pure and utter infatuation.

It makes your heart flip and twist like never before, the fact that someone can look at you like that.

It’s invigorating.

The brunette eventually lets go of you, and you pull back to let her off the car with a very content smile on your lips.

Opening the door for her, you gesture her into the car.

“Shall we go?”

A breathless nod and she’s in the car feeling as giddy as anything.

‘Breathe woman.’

She tells herself.

Settling into the passenger seat after packing the bags into the boot, you buckle in and the whole drive spent going to your next outing is one with clasped hands and small kisses pressed to the back of her hand and wrist.

When you pull up to a familiar club, it makes your heart swell a little.

She’d wanted to come back because the overall ambiance of the place was warm and welcoming and it made her feel comfortable in a place she wouldn’t normally spend any time going to.

Clubs have never been her thing but there was something about this one.

Maybe it was the fact you were involved in it. That it was attached to your first date together.

That would make sense.

You’ve been the deepest breath of fresh air she’s had in a long time. Even with the invigoration of her sport, her work, her home, her daughter. You’re new in her life and it makes her heart feel even more full.

The fact you adore every aspect of her life, her home, her family, makes it all that much better.

The fact that you ask to spend more time with her family without prompting when you both sit down for drinks makes her heart leap.

“Can we do the next one with Harper?”

There's a small sheepish smile on your face.

"It's just been a while since we've all had some time spent together and I miss her-"

Katrina cuts you off with a reassuring smile and a hand on yours.

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d ask again, of course we can, she’s been begging to know when she can see her new friend.”

You smile at the thought.

You had missed the little one quite a bit.

Her wide smile and nearly always happy personality brought so much light into your life that day.

When your drinks are sat down in front of you by a knowingly smirking Aiden.

“Whenever you ladies are ready, I’ve got you queued up with a classic.”

Taking a peek at the ipad in his hands, you see the song and roll your eyes.

It’s one you performed all the time for about three months straight because that’s all people would request from you.

Dragging the woman up with your drinks and a wink at the woman who’s just resigned to the fact she now has to sing every time she’s with you here.

There’s an adoration in her eyes as you step up onto the stage, keeping your eyes locked on hers and speak into the mic with a small wink.

“Hey everyone, we’ve got a good old classic today, it seems I’ve been requested of this one with my duet partner. Everyone thank Aiden for us.”

When the instrumental starts, Katrina half huffs at the song choice, half laughs.

Love Shack by The B-52

You start the song off, letting her get comfortable with the song first.

If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says "15 miles to the Love Shack"

Love Shack, yeah, yeah I'm heading down the Atlanta highway Looking for the love getaway

Bouncing to the beat slightly, you encourage her to move with you, gesturing down at the second mic that has been slipped into her grasp.

Headed for the love getaway I got me a car, it's as big as a whale And we're headin' on down to the Love Shack I got me a Chrysler, it seats about 20 So hurry up and bring your jukebox money

You almost have to laugh, she's better at this song than most would expect.

In fact, you'd bet she was better than you.

The love shack is a little old place where We can get together Love Shack, baby (the Love Shack, baby) Love Shack, baby, Love Shack Love Shack, baby, Love Shack Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (love, baby, that's where it's at) Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (love, baby, that's where it's at)

The pair of you yelling the chorus into the mic has a few people in the bar up and singing along as well, a few whistles and cheers as the pair of you keep making eye contact with each other.

Sign says (woo), "Stay away, fools" 'Cause love rules at the Love Shack Well, it's set way back in the middle of a field Just a funky old shack and I gotta get back

There's something about the way she dips and kisses you mid song.

You know you're screwed when she pulls you back up and there's a wink thrown your way as she turns to the crowd and starts hopping along to the beat finally, encouraging them to do the same.

You never thought you'd be up here, jamming along with a woman who's been matching your adventurous nature since you've met her.

Despite being someone who has somehow managed to calm your erratic nature, she's also had the more energetic side of her brought out that she normally only sees amongst the kids of the team.

Glitter on the mattress Glitter on the highway Glitter on the front porch Glitter on the highway

There's a small giggle she let's out as you step up and belt out the next verse.

The Love Shack is a little old place where We can get together Love Shack, baby (Love Shack, baby) Love Shack, that's where it's at Love Shack, that's where it's at

You don't miss the small shake of her head when you poke your tongue out between your teeth cheekily at her.

In fact your eyes stay on her for the majority of the song, every movement, every gesture, every expression, every grin while she sings with you.

The sweetest brightest laughter as you both duck off the stage panting is what seals the deal for you.

Her eyes glint with joy up at you and that's when you know she has you hook line and sinker.

-

"So he had to bail you out?!"

"I know right?"

"Babe that is so not-"

"Waitwaitwait before you judge me on it-"

She snorts and covers her mouth at the small glare you give her across the table, having to silence your own laughter to make it hold even a remote amount of sincerity, though she knows otherwise by the quirk in your lips.

Standing, you gesture to the door, wanting to get away from the loudness of the bar for a few moments.

You continue outside into the slowly cooling afternoon air.

"The dude had it coming, he was being way too touchy with this poor girl and security was not doing anything-"

"So you drop him in a trash can after throwing hot sauce in his eyes?!"

"It was well deserved, she was very grateful to not be harassed by that asshole anymore. Besides, the assault charges were dropped when I offered to show them the club footage of him grabbing where he shouldn't"

"Still, you shouldn't have risked going to jail over that-"

"I'd have broken his nose, too, but I literally just had a manicure done finally after like a year of refusing to go, I didn't feel like being made to go back, again."

An amused shake of her head as you both slowly walk down the path to the carpark.

"You're something else."

"That better be a good thing."

She giggles at the half pearl clutch gesture you make in response paired with an offended look.

"Of course it is, babe."

Giving your hand a squeeze, she can only smile at the grumpy look you give her.

"Hush you."

"Or what?"

"Or I might just do something about it."

"Do it."

A beat of silence, your eyes locked on the cocky smirk on her face.

She's baiting you, you know it.

Of course, you take it.

Two steps back towards her.

Three steps pushing her back into the building wall.

One more to find your place pressed against her.

None to press your lips into hers like they'd never separated in the first place.

The small hum she lets out as you do so makes the idea of the very public display suddenly leave your mind, wanting nothing more than to hear more from her.

It's when you pull away gently with a tug and pop that you both pull back a little breathless.

"That works."

She says, eyes still closed, breathing ragged.

You notice a flash of movement, thinking it was a stranger walking by until a small body crashes into the woman in front of you.

"Mummy!"

"Oh my god, Harper what did I say about running off like that? Especially across roads?! You can't do tha-"

A huffing, clearly scared looking Charlie practically sprints around the corner, bent over at the knees.

Her head snaps up at the realisation of who Harper's managed to run into.

"Oh! Mini, Hi!"

The brunette looks a little unimpressed at the blonde.

You get the distinct feeling it's less from the interruption and more the words of the woman who'd just been sprinting after her daughter.

"Charlotte Grant..."

"Wait. Wait. I didn't- She ran off. I promise I was doing everything to chase her down. It was a little road."

Katrina sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The tiny human being attached to her leg looks up at her with an innocent grin on her face.

"Harper, what did we say about running off?"

Picking up the smaller blonde, sitting her on her hip.

Suddenly very sheepish looking like only a toddler can, she looks in your direction in search of something to avoid the conversation.

Of course, with you being you, she does very quickly.

Practically jumping into your arms with excited squeal, the small child latches onto you out of the older woman's arms.

"Y/n/n!"

Giving her a squeeze, a few giggles leaving your lips at the affection from the little girl you hadn't seen in person since that first day, only catching some time talking to the little one over a phone screen.

"Hi Harper, whatcha doin here, huh?"

"Goin to the park."

"Is that right?"

You smile and wave to Charlie with an amused glint in your eye.

The twenty-two year old nods sheepishly.

Looking down at the little one in your arms, you raise a brow in her direction, too.

She nods enthusiastically, her little arms wound tight around your neck as she lays her head on your shoulder.

Katrina watches the exchange between her daughter and yourself with a hardly hidden heart eyes look.

She'd totally forgotten that the park they usually go to is only a couple blocks from where you both were, but it's on the other side.

Raising her brows in Charlie's direction, a small questioning look on her face.

"I can... explain.."

Another pair of footsteps come running around the corner, too, nearly bumping into the blonde, a mop of now very messy wind blown brunette hair.

"Charlie did you get her- oof!"

Nearly ending up in a tangled mess on the floor, Charlie catches the both of them from falling.

"Idiot."

"Hey! You're the one that- Oh hey, Min', we were just- oh."

The mischievous look on Kyra's face that appears at the sight of you.

"That's what you were busy with today. Or who you were busy with."

She wiggles her brows at the older woman.

"I swear, do I need to start leaving you three with Nonna, again?"

Harper's head whips up so fast, you nearly clash heads and you're surprised she doesn't give herself whiplash.

"Nonna? Can we go see Nonna?"

"Sorry Harps', you can see Nonna tomorrow, it's just Kyra and ChaCha for now, alright?"

The little girl pouts for a minute before settling back into your arms.

"Oky, I stay wiv y/n/n, then."

You chuckle at her, before looking up at Katrina.

"Mind going for a walk to the park?"

She sighs softly, before shrugging.

"Alright, why not?"

You pass the little girl back to Charlie, much to her protests.

"One minute Harps, You can hop up again in a bit, I need to talk to mum first alright?"

She pouts before nodding.

You nod at the two to walk ahead, grabbing Katrina's hand softly.

"We can always continue later? You haven't got anything time sensitive?"

She shakes her head no with a small chuckle.

"Just a walk in restaurant, they're open late, though, it'll be fine."

You quirk a brow at her, and she makes the lip-zipping motion.

"C'mon, we've got a little girl waiting."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you both walk slowly behind the group, though quickly get dragged into carrying Harper for the remainder of the walk, still holding hands with the shorter woman beside you.

The pair of twenty-somethings ahead bickering only serves as a reminder of how chaotic this life is for the Footballer, yet it doesn't bother you.

In fact, it feels like something so much bigger for you, something you could get behind.

You don't want to commit yourself so early, but you don't fight the way your heart swells with a little love each and every word you exchange with both Harper and Katrina.

By the time you're both wandering back to the car, late after Kyra and Charlie have left, taking the little one back home to bed.

Late after having sat and eaten and discussed everything from Harper to thousands of kilometres away worlds of a sport you've never found yourself loving before now.

At least now, it seems you've found your favourite people entwined with it.

It's then you find yourself wanting to learn more.

"Hey, I know this is probably something you hear with your work a lot, but just, talk to me about football, anything you want, the rules, the games, anything."

She looks a little surprised that you bring it up, considering you've never personally been a big sports fan, at least, as much as she's known for the past couple weeks.

"I thought you didn't want to know about it?"

"Actually, I want to learn about it, if I'm gonna be showing up to my sister's matches, and maybe get to see you."

You pause, and the last bit is said with a little sheepishness behind it, though you don't miss the way her smile widens at it.

"I wanna know about the game. Or even just your experiences with it. What do you love about it? Tell me anything."

With that, she starts off on where she started with it, how much she loved it as a kid, how she always spent time playing it with her brothers, her time in the academy, in the beginning with the youth team in Mount Gravatt, to her start with the Melbourne Victory and everywhere after.

How she came to Brisbane Roar, her time in the US.

Her injury, her time spent trying to recover. Of course, she's told you the basics of how Harper came to be.

She talks about some of the bigger games she's played.

About the upcoming World Cup in July.

"You should come see us play."

"You'd want me there?"

"Of course I would."

It's said short and almost in an offended tone, but it shows so much more for you.

She wants you there at the biggest stage of her career.

You don't protest it.

"I'll be there, then."

"Good, I would hate to have to pack you into a suitcase to drag you to camp with us instead."

A laugh escapes your lips at that, head tilted back in laughter.

"Of course you would. You're cute. No but seriously, are you sure? I wouldn't be intruding?"

"Hell no, if eighty thousand other people can be there to watch it, why can't you?"

"Fair enough."

You continue like that, laughing, chatting, letting her rant on and on about everything and anything because you could listen to this woman go on and on for hours with no complaint.

Swinging your joined hands as you both wander along the boardwalk she'd taken you to, you look out on the slowly darkening skies over the water.

The colours are as amazing to witness as always, to the point where you both settle on a bench to relax a bit and watch it darken a bit longer.

The sparkle of the fading sun behind you warms your backs as you both settle into each other, the shorter woman contentedly tucked into your side, words starting to slow and you both quieten to enjoy the moment.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

Turning your head to meet her gaze with the tips of her fingers.

"I like you. A lot."

You grin.

"I would hope so. Or this could be really awkward for- hey!"

She smacks your shoulder with a little roll of her eyes.

"Kidding. I really like you, too."

"Too? I only said like not really."

You guffaw at the woman.

"Hey!"

She giggles.

"Okay, I deserved that."

Grinning, you lean down to meet her lips for the what seems like thousandth time today, though, neither of you mind at all.

It's soft, sweet and much less urgent than all of the ones earlier.

It's easy.

You find it easier and easier with each pass to kiss her.

There's a way she spends the time holding your face, caressing the skin of your cheek, that has you in an absolute whirlwind of just... her.

It's invigorating beyond anything.

Yet also, cathartic.

She tastes like home.

And who knows, maybe this is what you've been missing.

The cathartic parts.

A way to calm an already chaotic life.

Sure, she's a professional footballer, that gets chaotic more than a lot of jobs do but it's the way she handles everything. Somehow able to juggle the life of having a child and playing football across the country and internationally when called to.

But to be honest with yourself, there's nowhere you'd rather be than with this somehow new cemented person in your life.

You can't wait to see where this goes.

-

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING OUT WITH THE KATRINA GORRY!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ashley! Chill!"

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

[genshin-impacted]

so close (yet so far)

[Alhaitham x Reader]

You ask Alhaitham to be friends with benefits with you. (The both of you overestimate your ability to not get your feelings involved.)

word count: 11k* (one-shot)

notes: heavily nsfw**, female reader; "you", inexperienced!reader, friends to fwb to lovers, unrequited to mutual pining, modern au (reader and alhaitham went to hs together), some profanity, brief body insecurity on reader's side

*split into three main parts: one part is Alhaitham's POV btw a speed demon possessed me to write this much (im kidding; my friend put brain worms in me)

**oral sex, brief descriptions of face fucking, 69, car sex, dirty talk, face sitting, thigh fucking

.

.

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Dating apps vary in tone and quality, you find out firsthand. Certain ones call for one-night stands and hook ups and others are prone to less of them (but they will always be there). You don't feel like you can make genuine relationships with people without meeting them first, but you figure you should give it a chance at least before giving up.

You are close to doing so when you show up for a date, and he cancels last minute.

"Ugh, man..." You sigh, putting your phone away after seeing the apologetic text. You won't blame your date: it may as well be a real emergency, but if not, he is not beholden to you to show up, though it would have been nice on his end to let you know earlier.

Still, you are here, and you are hungry, so you step into the cafe in hopes of grabbing fresh pastries when a familiar face catches your eye. You almost don't believe it, considering how many years have passed since you've last seen him. But there is no mistaking the silvery hair and the nose still buried in a book; even the green headphones remain the same, a detail that makes you laugh a little when you approach him and hope he isn't too upset at the sudden reunion.

"Alhaitham," you say cheerily, waving at him in case his noise-canceling is on. "It's been a while!"

Alhaitham takes his eyes off his book to look at you, hands raised to take off his headphones. You grin when it seems that he is just as surprised to see you as you are. "It has," he agrees. "More than a few years." He takes a look at you. "You haven't changed a bit."

"How rude!" You say teasingly, "I've changed a little bit in the past few years. Maybe not in appearance, but still. Mind if I sit?"

Alhaitham moves over when you take a chair over to sit in front of him, and it feels like the two of you never left high school-- if not for the stark fact that Alhaitham has changed physically since then. His jaw is more defined, shoulders broader, probably even taller than he was back then. He's handsome, you think, though then again, he always has been.

Wistfully, you think about the years you've lost connection with him and wonder what he has been up to. You've always enjoyed his company, much to some of your other friends' chagrin, and that sentiment has not changed now when the two of you converse easily.

"So," Alhaitham says, "were you on a date with someone?"

You don't even bother asking how he knew, only sighing and waving a hand. "I was going to be. He canceled last minute so I was going to grab something and go." Alhaitham hums noncommittally, and you snort in laughter, reminded of his apathy towards relationships then and, you guess, now.

You remember the times Alhaitham turned down people in high school at a ridiculous rate. "Another one?" You remember someone saying jokingly, seeing Alhaitham simply toss a letter slipped into his locker.

"You won't respond at least?" You asked, sympathetic over the courage it took to confess.

"I don't know them," you recall him saying. "Why should I consider being in a relationship with them when we haven't even spoken to gauge our compatibility?"

Alhaitham ended up not accepting anyone's confessions. You don't remember him dating in high school or during university either in the times you've messaged him just to catch up. Not that you have a stellar record either, having dated only one person your whole life without it going very far. You can't say you haven't tried though.

"So you're not dating anyone?" You ask, taking a sip of your drink.

Alhaitham looks at you briefly; you can never tell what he's thinking. He eventually looks away and says, "No. I'm not interested in dating."

"At all?" You ask again, voice high in genuine disbelief. 'Still?' is the unspoken question. (What a shame, you can't help but think.) When Alhaitham gives a nonchalant shrug, you let yourself sit back, astonished. You think about your (lack of) experience, the fatigue from dating apps, and then look at Alhaitham.

You've always found him attractive; you can't deny this. You trust him as a friend and as a confidant, because in his own words-- what is the use of telling secrets? Alhaitham is as intelligent and rational as ever, something you have always admired in him, which is why you trust him with this question.

"Would you be down for a friends with benefits relationship then?"

Alhaitham raises his brow in question and pauses in thought before responding. "...In general?" He asks, "Or with you?"

You love the way Alhaitham needs no explanation.

"Both," you reply. "Serious inquiry."

Worst case scenario Alhaitham rejects the offer and the two of you move on from this conversation (hopefully). Best case scenario is him saying yes. Last thing you expect is to have Alhaitham look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him: unadulterated shock. You laugh at his reaction despite the tension that could have been held between the two of you, and you start to wave off the entire ordeal when Alhaitham tells you "sure."

.

It's only Alhaitham, but you show up at his apartment with a nervous flutter in your heart. He opens the door soon after you knock, donned in a regular shirt and sweatpants. You feel your shoulders relax at the casualness of it all and thank him for his hospitality as you enter his home. It does not take much to strike a normal conversation with him, words between the two of you flowing like usual. You are given a tour of the apartment per request, briefly admiring the tiles of the bathroom floor before ending the route in his room. It is minimalistic aside from the usual amenities, and it feels so much like Alhaitham that you smile as he types something on his laptop before turning back to you.

"Is my room that amusing to you?" Alhaitham scoffs, closing his laptop.

"Yeah, it kind of is," you agree easily. "It's better than a man cave, I'll give you that. But the walls are as empty as the day you got this place probably."

"I'll be sure to let you know when inspiration hits for me to decorate," he says sardonically, making you giggle to yourself. "Did you want music?"

The sudden change in topic makes you tilt your head in confusion. "Music?" You echo. "Music for what?"

Without skipping a beat, a song starts playing on low volume, bass steady and clear in his speakers. Alhaitham stands tall then, his headphones off, you note vaguely. He seems a lot taller than you remember, but perhaps it is because he is usually conscious of the difference in height to stand at a distance, so you don't have to crane your neck. This time, when Alhaitham stands right in front of you, close enough to bump chests, you look up and realize it is the first time you've really looked into Alhaitham's eyes.

There are more colors than you thought.

You instinctively want to take a step back, but his hand holding your arm-- firmly, just enough to stop you, but not strong enough to keep you there if you wanted to leave-- keeps you underneath his gaze. You are normally so good at defusing the tension with a few well-placed words of humor, but you aren't quite sure this is a tension that you want to cut through.

Just like that, your heart is at your throat. Alhaitham truly is very handsome, you think, eyes looking at his long lashes, the curve of his nose, and his lips. You can't help but jump when Alhaitham leans down, face closest to yours as it has ever been. You feel ridiculous, being strung taut as a caught fishing line just from being close to Alhaitham. Your cheeks prickle with the speed in which it warms, and just when you begin to wonder what Alhaitham could possibly be waiting for before he kisses you, his lips are on yours.

Your eyes close almost immediately, arms reaching up to hold onto him and finding purchase around his neck as he pulls you close until the two of you are flushed against each other. How long has it been since you've been kissed, let alone been kissed like this? Lips separating from yours only enough to find new ways to kiss you again. You gasp when Alhaitham gently bites and pulls at your lower lips. Feeling emboldened by your reception, Alhaitham swoops in and meets his tongue with yours, and you melt in his embrace.

You are surprised to see that you could probably go on kissing Alhaitham forever if that was all you could do. You only vaguely realize how efficiently you've been breathing through your nose through it all when you separate from him, dazed, and hear him mutter "fuck" under his breath.

A rush of adrenaline. You were already aware that Alhaitham is a willing participant in this newly established situationship, but to hear him being as affected as you do numbers to your rapidly increasing arousal. It's only fun when the both of you are enjoying it, after all.

"Not bad from someone who hasn't smooched anyone in years, huh?" You begin to tease, rightfully earning yourself a dirty look from Alhaitham. His lips are still wet, you think, and heat curls up from your lower abdomen up. The room suddenly feels hot.

"Are we trying to rate every encounter now?" Alhaitham remarks dryly, only to make you laugh at the thought of it.

"Not if it's not at least a 7/10," you say breathlessly. You shake in laughter again when you see him roll his eyes before holding onto his hand and tugging him to the couch. "Here, sit. My neck is starting to get tired. Being shorter is a struggle, you know."

Alhaitham sighs but sits obediently where you take him. "What do you-" He snaps his mouth shut when you swing your legs over his lap and sit yourself on top of him. You quirk a smile at the rare sight of Alhaitham being stunned once again and wonder how easily it seems to have gotten to make him react like that.

His hand easily finds its place at your waist as you curl your hands into the hair at the nape. "Trying to make myself comfortable," you say slyly. "This is much better."

You close the distance and kiss him again. You're a quick learner, so you do what has been done to you: nipping at his lips, tugging and pulling, and licking into his mouth until it makes him as breathless as you are. Is this what it's like to have chemistry? You wonder, feeling Alhaitham's hands dip underneath your top to slide his hand across the expanse of your naked skin. You want him to touch you more.

Alhaitham must have the same ideas because he murmurs at you to take it off, and you raise your arms easily to let him do exactly that. His fingers waste no time in pressing into the softness of your breast, over the white cloth of your bra. He is quick to grow tired of the thin barrier though, pulling it down just so your breasts can pop out into full view. Your cheeks prick in embarrassment at how exposed you feel-- this is the first man to see you like this, after all-- and having Alhaitham look at you with intense focus does not help with it.

Alhaitham's hands are warm when they cup your breasts, gently squeezing them until your nipples perk against his long fingers. You gasp in pleasure when he pinches them and tugs. Your arms reach out and hold onto his shoulders for support. As though on cue, Alhaitham swoops down to capture one of your nubs in his mouth while his hand plays idly with the other. He swirls it with his tongue, leaving a trail of spit when he detaches himself from it to move onto the other one. You hum as your hands card through his hair.

Alhaitham's free hand unhooks your bra, leaving it to hang down your shoulders. You immediately tug it completely off, casting it carelessly elsewhere. He is quick to be on you again, encouraging you to wrap your arms around him as he sucks onto your tits. It feels rather uneven, the way you're half-dressed but he's still fully clothed. You can feel the way his muscles contract underneath your hands, fingers tracing along the exposed skin of his neck that is far from being enough for you.

Just as you decide to ask Alhaitham to return the favor and take his clothes off, your hands spasms in his hair when Alhaitham takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs, hard.

Oh fuck, you think, letting out a long, shaky breath just before Alhaitham does it again, his hands on your back as it arches at his touch. "Fuck," you say aloud this time, and you can feel the way Alhaitham's lips curve up in amusement, the bastard. "Hey, you take your clothes off too," you tell him, tugging up the hem of his shirt.

Alhaitham looks at you steadily. "Why?"

You stare back at him and sputter. "What do you mean 'why?'" You-" You scowl, feeling your cheeks warm as Alhaitham continues to look at you with a smirk. "You just want me to say it, don't you?"

"I'm not a mind reader," he says, lips curving up. "How would I know what you want if you don't tell me?"

"I want to see you," you say, cheeks prickling with an embarrassment that you push through. "I want to touch you too, you know." When Alhaitham smirks at you before sitting up from the couch to take his shirt off, you huff. "Ugh, this is why everyone keeps giving you side eyes," you say, your hands sliding over his open chest with a mild sense of reverence despite your words. You knew Alhaitham was toned to hell, and this is the first time you've been granted the chance to view it in all its glory, your hands brushing over his built abdomen, thumb brushing over his nipples.

Alhaitham jumps slightly when you do so, and you giggle, ignoring the narrowed look you get from him and the way he grips onto your hips just the slightest. You shift in your seat, only to feel Alhaitham's hold you still, face flushed despite the impartial expression on his face. "What, what's up-" You feel it then, the hardness underneath your thighs, and you know Alhaitham sees the realization dawn on you because his blush travels down his neck.

He's embarrassed, you think gleefully. After initiating the hottest make out session you've ever had and easily pulling taut your strings, Alhaitham is embarrassed that he's hard? If anything, he should be-- better be! And you're a little flattered, you tell him just as much teasingly, and you can't help but hug him when he scowls at you.

Ah, you feel your heart flutter, knowing the effect you have on the immovable Alhaitham. But he is far from it now, chest heaving under your palm, cock hard as you press down onto it despite his modest resistance. You won't say it to him out loud, knowing he wouldn't like it, but you think Alhaitham is adorable as he is now. (You imagine people would say you're the only one who would think that.)

You rock your hips, eyes not straying from Alhaitham's as he stubbornly meets your gaze. His thighs are tense underneath you as you line yourself up to press your pussy lips against his clothed cock. A skirt was a good choice, you think dreamily; it lets you grind on him with aching accuracy and lets Alhaitham slide his hands across your legs and reach behind to squeeze your ass. You hum again in appreciation, kissing Alhaitham again as he generously cups your behind, making you moan, which he easily swallows up.

"Take your pants off too," you say, sitting back onto his legs. Before he can ask, you press your palm down on his bulge and quip a smile at him. "I want to try sucking you off."

.

You tie your hair up before kneeling down between Alhaitham's knees. His cock sits erect on his stomach, head flush with arousal. It should feel intimidating the way Alhaitham watches you, but you know Alhaitham, and you figure if there is anyone that you can be comfortable doing this with, it would be him.

"Tell me what to do," you say, hands softly trailing up and down his thighs. "I've never done this before."

"You've watched porn, haven't you?" Alhaitham replies dryly, making you roll your eyes good naturedly.

"It's not the same thing as doing, and you know it." You look over at the nearby table he has kindly set up for you in advance and take the bottle of lotion to pour some onto your hand. Alhaitham jolts slightly at the coldness of the lotion, hissing in a breath, though with the way you are steadily pumping his cock, you aren't quite certain the sound wasn't at least partially from pleasure. "Alhaitham," you begin, a whining lilt to your voice. "Come on. Teach me?"

"Alright, alright, fine," Alhaitham says, his hand covering his face. "Just- just stop for a second."

You let go of his cock, beaming up at him as he shifts so that he's sitting more comfortably. "Here," he says, almost boredly. He gestures for you to take him in hand again, and your heart skips when you feel his hand over yours, squeezing it as he guides it up and down again in a steady rhythm. "Tighten your grip like this. A little harder is fine. There are more nerve endings at the tip, but there's nothing wrong with covering the base as well." You can only nod in acknowledgement, a lump in the back of your throat as you emulate exactly what Alhaitham has shown you.

Is this how he normally gets himself off? The same strength, the same motion-- maybe a little extra attention at the tip where it is more sensitive? You feel your face warm and hope it does not show as you watch Alhaitham's face for approval or for any signs of pleasure.

Alhaitham has always been intense despite his neutral face. But you know him well enough to recognize the minute changes that occur. The tense jaw, partially open mouth, half-lidded gaze is enough to light a fire in your stomach. But you wonder how he would look if he were completely drowned in pleasure, if you could be the one that makes him look like that.

You speak before you can lose the courage to. "Can I use my mouth?" You say, "I want to use my mouth."

Alhaitham's cock twitches in your hand.

"Then put it in your mouth then," Alhaitham says, "and avoid teeth. It hurts."

Obediently, you nod and sit up on your knees, puppy licking the tip to test the waters before opening your mouth to put it in. You had thought this when your hand could not completely wrap around his cock, but Alhaitham is big, enough to make your jaw ache when you try to fit more of his member in. You make a sound of discontent when the cock head hits the back of your throat and you aren't even halfway down. You let your tongue rest on the bottom of his cock, saliva pooling underneath with a mouth so full.

It doesn't fit, you think somewhat dejectedly. You swallow around his cock, making a discontented noise when you feel Alhaitham's thigh clench as he bucks up into your mouth. "Sorry," he says, and you tell him an incomprehensible 'it's okay' around his cock. His thigh tenses up again.

You tentatively raise your head, lips wrapped around his member for a moment before pulling yourself off, ready to ask for guidance when Alhaitham offers it to you. "You can use your hand to cover the rest of it," he says. "A wringing motion like this. It'll feel better if you suck while you're doing it too. Use lotion or spit if it's too dry."

You nod and follow his words step by step, swallowing his cock again and hollowing your cheeks. The other hand pumps his cock as you slowly bob your head up and down. You lift yourself up with a breath and let saliva spill from your lips to ease the motion, your eyes glancing up to meet Alhaitham's eyes.

You don't think he has taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

It's a little addicting to know that his attention is all yours. What does he like best about this whole situation, you muse. The fact that he's your first? The eager way in which you are trying to please him? Or is it the look of you drooling over his cock, getting off just from sucking it?

You hum in pleasure around his cock and he throws his head back, hips jilting up only slightly.

You pop yourself off of him again, hand pumping the entire expanse of his cock as you tilt your head to lick at his balls. "Fuck," Alhaitham mutters, hands clenched into the couch. You watch as his eyes flutter open before looking at you again, chest rising and falling. Not one to give neither you nor him reprieve, you are sucking him off again, and then off, and then on. It's a little fun watching him writhe, and you slowly begin to realize the power you seem to have over him.

You are so grateful to Alhaitham for saying 'yes.' The feeling of being wanted, of being desired, of being empowered is intoxicating. Watching Alhaitham fall apart before your eyes because of you is even more so.

He says your name, strained, "I'm close."

Alhaitham lets out an involuntary groan when you pop off again. "Does cum taste bad?" You ask. "It's a lot neater if I swallow, unless you want it somewhere else?" The thought of Alhaitham finishing on your chest or face is somewhat appealing, though you worry about the mess.

It doesn't seem like Alhaitham particularly cares, because he grits out, "Your choice." He muffles a grunt of pleasure that you wish you could hear at full volume. "Just-"

The key to success is consistency, you think. You bob your head up and down in tandem with your hand, licking the head and swirling your tongue around his shaft until Alhaitham lets out a strained, "I'm coming-"

Despite the warning, the warmth that spurts in your mouth is still surprising. You slow your pace as Alhaitham cums, all pretty gasps and grunts that makes your head spin as you take all he is giving and swallowing. It's a lot more than you think too, your hand daintily at your mouth as you swallow as though it were the last bite of a meal. You look at Alhaitham, skin glistening with sweat, breathing hard after his climax, eyes slightly wide as he watches you lick your lips.

Before you can ask for it, Alhaitham shifts just enough to reach for a towel-- he really is prepared for everything-- for you to wipe your hand with. You hear him let out a long breath before you return the towel to him for his own uses. You stand up, wincing at the marks on your knees from kneeling for so long before grinning at him.

"So, what's the verdict?" You ask jokingly, making him scoff and roll his eyes as you had predicted.

"I'm not answering that," he says. He stands up and picks his sweatpants from the ground to make himself more modest. "You can extrapolate for that type of answer yourself."

You expected as much, but you still pout and sigh. You sit on the couch next to him. "Aw, boo, well I guess I'll just give myself an 8/10 then." You stop when you feel Alhaitham's gaze on you, calculating. "What, what is it? Am I lowballing it or what-"

"I think it's your turn," Alhaitham says simply.

"Oh, uh..." You honestly didn't come to his house expecting anything, so this comes as a surprise to you. That and a few certain parts of you makes that bit of insecurity flare up the moment Alhaitham mentions reciprocation. "It's fine," you say, "we don't have to-" You snap your mouth shut when Alhaitham parts your legs to put his knees between, his hand lifting your chin so he can kiss you. You vaguely think about the fact that he can probably taste himself on your tongue.

"I insist," Alhaitham murmurs against your lips.

"What do you suggest then?" You stammer, and Alhaitham pushes himself off just enough to look at you directly.

"We could try fingering. See if that's to your taste and then move on." He gauges you carefully. "We could stop if you truly wanted to, but don't make that decision on my behalf."

"Well, we could try," you say, lowering your gaze, feeling your heart pick up in anticipation.

"Alright," Alhaitham replies softly. "You can stop me at any time."

This is why you trust Alhaitham. This is why you asked Alhaitham to do this with you, to-- for a lack of better, less dramatic phrases-- be your first. It was made as a casual request but Alhaitham knew to take it seriously for you anyways. You aren't sure how much he knows how his words make you feel at ease.

The sense of ease is immediately replaced with nervous anticipation when Alhaitham parts your legs, pooling your skirt at your stomach, and slips his hand underneath your panties. You hear him let out a sharp breath, and before you can ask what's wrong, he says, almost in awe, "You're so wet."

You understand Alhaitham's feelings earlier now when you had felt his bulge; your arousal on full blast is nothing short of mortifying even though the situation calls for it. You hadn't even noticed, so focused on the task at hand, but when Alhaitham pulls back with glistening lines of slick between his fingers, you don't doubt his observation.

"W-Well, you know," you mumble, your hand grasping onto his supporting arm. Your eyes flutter when Alhaitham cups your sex, fingers sliding a line down the middle. Your hand spasms when his thumb hits your clit on the way down, and Alhaitham does not miss it. "Wait, Alhaitham-" You squeal when he presses onto your clit, swirling around it with persistent pressure that makes it hard to say anything coherent. You wouldn't have wanted to tell him to stop anyways, but you have a feeling he just wanted to tease you.

"Sensitive?" He says almost smugly.

"Not usually no," you choke out, breathing out a sigh of relief when Alhaitham lets off.

"Interesting," he says, and it's only now you realize how quiet Alhaitham was before when you were on your knees. Now with him at the upper hand, he can speak all he wants, and you're the one left catching your breath. It really is different when it's someone else doing it. "I'm putting one in to start, okay?"

You nod, but when you feel the first intrusion prod in, you reach out to seek out Alhaitham for support. "Relax," he tells you. "Your muscles are too tense for anything."

"Sorry," you say, taking a deep breath. He pulls you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hot breath hits his neck when you turn to him. "Make sure you really lube that up, Haitham." You breathe again when his finger enters, and when it curls up onto the spongey part of your cunt, you feel it. It's nothing of import yet, but Alhaitham seems patient enough to build up to it.

One finger barely fits, but even with time, the second finger enters too. "You're tight," Alhaitham grunts, and you feel yourself redden as your only response. "I think you're stretched out. Any pain?" When you shake your head on his shoulders, you feel his fingers slowly pump in and out of you.

It picks up in pace and intensity, and then when he curves up this time- oh, you aren't sure you've ever felt this sensation before. Alhaitham's fingers are so much longer than yours, so it makes sense he can reach the places you can't, knuckles deep in you. Your breathing quickens and with it, Alhaitham's speed, his fingers pounding at that same spot over and over. You're at a daze, not any closer to a climax but not bored without pleasure. You aren't sure how long Alhaitham goes at it until he slows down, and the fog clears up.

"You okay?"

You hum, turning your head to face Alhaitham when he peers over to you. "Yeah," you mumble, "I feel good, just can't come from this."

"Hm."

You miss Alhaitham's warmth when he pulls away, fingers grasping at him. The haze that you feel quickly blows away when Alhaitham gets on his knees and pries your legs apart. "Whoa, um-"

"Most cannot finish with vaginal stimulation alone," Alhaitham says factually. "Hence, I'll be focusing my efforts on other areas."

"Yeah, I get that," you say, blinking with embarrassment. "It's just, um..."

Without your understanding, Alhaitham gives you a deeply unimpressed look. "Hair is a natural phenomenon. It doesn't matter to me in the slightest."

You would find it hard to believe, an insecure part of you convinced that it must be polite niceties. But this is Alhaitham, and he is never one for false platitudes and social norms with strangers or friends or you. When he says he does not care, you believe him.

"If you're sure," you tell him, and you let out a small squeak when he tugs your panties down, not even bothering to take it off completely before you feel his fingers pry your leaking lips apart. A lick up your clit has your legs closing on his head, but Alhaitham's hands easily pry you apart and keep you that way, your pussy open to be eaten.

You want to look away when Alhaitham's meets your eyes, and then his lips press to your folds and he begins to gorge himself on you.

It's impossible to keep your eyes open then when you're too distracted by how Alhaitham's tongue swirls around your clit, the muscle pressing into the bud of nerves with a dogged persistence. Even the noises you have kept to a minimum spill from your lips involuntarily. You can only breathe in hiccups, Alhaitham relentless in his pursuit of your climax as he sucks on your clit and begins to press his fingers against the zone of pleasure inside you as well.

'It feels good' sounds like an understatement at this point. You climb the precipice at an alarming speed, and you cannot help but grasp onto the hand keeping your thighs apart to ground yourself. It's almost overwhelming, but then you feel Alhaitham unfurl his grip onto your leg to grasp onto your hand.

It must be the endorphins, but you feel a warm ooze of affection for Alhaitham pool in your chest.

Logical, calm, and reasonable Alhaitham. Arrogant, antisocial, abrasive Alhaitham. Observant, considerate, and kind Alhaitham. You've known this man for so many years, and you are reminded in this instance that in all the times you have trusted him, he has never failed you once.

"Alhaitham-" You cry out. Your head feels hot as you curl your toes, your heels at his shoulders. When he hums in response, you feel the build up towards the beginning of the end. "I'm- I'm coming-"

You throw your head back, gasping in pleasure as your body jerks with waves of pleasure. Hazily, you feel Alhaitham lap at your hole at a slow but steady pace, his mouth never leaving you even as you buck against him.

Alhaitham only lets you go when your body slackens, legs limp in his arm as he gently sets it down in a comfortable position for you. You watch him, dazed, as he quietly grabs the towel to wipe his face and hands. He must see you look because he turns to you and offers you the towel too, though the mess between your legs is one of the last things you care about at the moment.

"C'mere," you say, arms reaching out for him. When he doesn't immediately come to you, you wave your hands insistently. "Plea-a-ase come here? I wanna cuddle."

A flicker of emotion comes and goes on Alhaitham's face before he replaces it with exasperation. "I didn't realize the benefits portion of friends with benefits included cuddles," he says, but he walks to you anyways, huffing in laughter at the small 'yay!' from you. Alhaitham settles in the space you moved over for him on the couch, and you immediately latch yourself onto him, head fitting easily at the crook of his neck. As his arms wrap around you, you heave a content sigh.

"You should have read the fine print, Alhaitham," you drawl, cheek pressed against his naked skin. "It was right there on page 562, 9th clause, addendum number four." You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of Alhaitham's little huff.

"Out of the two of us, I'm the one more likely to read a written agreement in full," he says. His voice reverberates in your ears, low and comforting.

You always thought he had a nice voice, reading out texts in class and reciting lines without effort. The two of you are a long way off from high school, but thinking back at the Alhaitham back then brings you good memories. It's even more so when you compare it to the Alhaitham now of whom reconnecting with was happenstance.

Alhaitham has changed a little in the years you have not seen him, with what you know now includes a fallout with Kaveh and an early college graduation. He's a little softer, you think, edges more blunt but still just as deadly when wielded with a sharp wit. It is to your comfort that most parts of him remain the same. A little smug, a little snark.

You're glad; you've always liked him just the way he is.

You feel his hand absently rub circles into your shoulders and feel as though that sentiment has only grown stronger.

"...You're hard again?" You ask after a moment, muffling your laughter into his skin when he clicks his tongue and shifts his legs so the offending body part in question is no longer touching you.

"A normal physical reaction," Alhaitham says, miffed.

You pause. "You want me to do it again?" You ask.

Alhaitham shifts so he can look down at you as you give him a grin, reaching down to grasp at his shaft and watching that moment when you catch him off guard, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Oh, yes, you think, heat pooling into your abdomen, you can certainly go for another round.

.

.

.

You tell him that you are tired of dating around with men you have no connection with, afraid to build intimacy when you are still inexperienced, and trust him enough to put up the offer to be friends with benefits. Alhaitham knows he is in love with you, but he says yes anyways. He does not make miscalculations often, but he acknowledges that he is only human, so he is prone to them occasionally. He thinks this decision to be friends with benefits with you may be one of them.

He has always had a hard time featuring his own feelings in the equation, surprisingly volatile in its unchanging affection for you even after all these years. (How long has it been since high school?) Anyone with a brain not controlled by their libido knows entering a purely sexual relationship with someone you’ve never quite stopped having feelings for is a recipe for disaster. But just maybe, being aware of that much will let Alhaitham avoid ruin.

It doesn't stop the way something in his chest twists painfully at the thought of holding you close even though you could not be more further away. After all, in initiating this relationship with him, you must have seen him as only a friend. You seem excited at the prospect of starting this type of relationship with him, and he is not one to deny you something if he believes it is something in his power to give.

On that note, he is surprised when he hears you have no experience being in a physical relationship with a man. Alhaitham does admit the idea of being your 'first' appeals to him, and because of that he thinks maybe he isn't so infallible to the whims of desire.

He's liked you for ages. He isn't sure even the best of men can refuse when the object of his affection asks him to treat them gently. (Or so he thinks. You may be more of his weak spot than he ever anticipated.)

You show up on his doorstep a week later, beaming at him when he lets you into his apartment. In the days leading up to this meeting, Alhaitham has prepped the environment with necessary amenities. You didn't specify what was to happen today, so he prepares everything to the lube to the condoms to the towels. Music, too, is something he did extensive research in, having learned that it can often set the mood.

Alhaitham isn't necessarily the most experienced person, but for the sake of knowing, he has slept with people and learned about his own preferences. He is more curious than he admits to finding out more about your preferences.

Still, when you look up at him doe-eyed and cheeks warm in anticipation, he is taken aback by the idea that he'll be the one to guide you today. He remembers when you were the one to direct him to class when he was lost as a transfer sophomore in high school. You were so assure of yourself, confident-- he never would have anticipated that you would have a shy side to you.

Perhaps that is what makes it all the more endearing, you all the more desirable, his chest searing with want as he closes the gap to finally feel your lips on his.

He really likes you, he's reminded, heart beating hard in his chest he thinks you might be able to hear it. And though you do not kiss him with the same feelings he holds for you, when you look up at him like that, he can almost imagine that you do.

Lips are one of the erogenous zones outside of sexual organs, filled with sensitive nerves that can sense even the slightest difference in temperature. The auditory sense is powerful too when it comes to stimulating the libido. It's why Alhaitham wants to devour you when he hears your small gasps as he pulls at your lips.

"Come sit," you murmur to him, and he can only acquiesce without a word. Good thing, because he would have been made speechless the way you boldly swing your legs over to sit on his lap. Alhaitham is acutely aware that his cock has begun to fill, straining against sweatpants that shows no effort to hide his arousal.

Your kisses sear his lips, your hands welcoming his to explore your body which he does with little hesitation. Alhaitham wants to see you in full, your breasts spilling out and nipples hard being irresistible that he cannot do anything but put his mouth to use again.

Your skin is smooth against his palm, your sounds of pleasure almost like music to his ears he almost wishes it weren't buffeted by the sensual base notes of a playlist he searched up last night. "I want to touch you too," you tell him breathlessly, and who is he to deny you that?

When you take a moment to admire his body, he takes this moment to look at you-- an overview, one might say. You are breathtaking in his perspective, lips slightly swollen, breasts bouncing when you adjust yourself. Alhaitham feels his cheeks warm when you innocuously grind yourself onto him (that damned skirt), and he only grows hotter when you do it again with purpose.

He should have known you would be able to flip the tables on him like that, inexperience be damned. You've always had a way to do that.

And then you are on your knees, hair up and ready to pleasure him, and he almost doesn't know what to do. Except he must-- you want him to guide you, to teach you how to make him feel good, and the way you easily do that forces him to do his best not to buck up into your touch. He must be more sensitive because it's you, or maybe you really are that fast of a learner, even when it comes to sucking cock.

Would you like dirty talk? He wonders, praise or degradation? You seem to like it a little rough, though you seem receptive to his gentleness too. Not that he can think it thoroughly with the way you are hallowing your cheeks, tongue swirling around his cock. Seeing you swallow his cum-- all of it-- is almost enough to revive his softening member, the way you look at him coyly an attractive look on your face.

He thinks the way your face contorts in pleasure is also an attractive look for him too. Alhaitham looks up from his position between your legs and watches you with hazy desire as you close your eyes, hand at your mouth to muffle your gasps. Alhaitham thinks of telling you to stop covering yourself, but he thinks that just this one time, his mouth has better things to do.

His name on your lips as you reach your high makes him close his eyes and hum in pleasure, tongue delving into you again as your slick gushes from your hole. Alhaitham is a man of pride, and watching your body slacken, spent on pleasure that he wrought from you makes his chest burn with satisfaction.

He wipes himself and sees you look up at him almost sleepily, and the satisfaction quickly morphs into gentle affection. He wants to kiss your forehead, clean you up himself and hold you. But is that too revealing? Too much emotion for a relationship like this? And Alhaitham is brought back to the reality that you are only his friends with benefits. (He is well aware of the concept of 'post-nut clarity' but finds it loathsome at the moment.)

Just as he begins to formulate words to wrap this scene in a pretty bow, you wave him over with an endearingly whining croon, and he comes to you without thinking otherwise. He is yours to hold-- always has been.

Alhaitham cannot control how you feel (would never want to), but he can control the way he will not fall apart even as you lay down with him, tracing shapes into his hand in a way he's never allowed himself to dream of. So close yet so far, he thinks, trying not to smile when you whinge at him at pushing you off the couch until you go to the bathroom. He'll take care of you as long as you'll have him.

.

.

.

You go over to Alhaitham's when you can. You try not to treat him like a booty call--though, as he has told you before, that is simply the nature of the relationship. But you are his friend before it comes with the benefits, so you try not to treat him any less. After all, you like spending time with Alhaitham, sex or not, though for some reason he seems almost bewildered when you come over his house and want to take him out for a taco truck you've been craving to eat.

"Isn't this what friends with benefits do?" You point out, biting into your taco. "Being friends with some extra stuff attached?"

Alhaitham looks at you for a moment. You take this time to squeeze some lemon onto his uneaten tacos for him.

"I suppose so," Alhaitham says noncommitally. "I was under the slightest impression you also wanted to use me for experimentation, considering your lack of experience. So you would want to take every opportunity we get to do something."

You scrunch your nose. "I don't like the word 'use.' It’s not like I talked to you and asked you this just for that reason." You frown, and the thought settles in you uncomfortably. "Please don't say that I'm using you. I'm not. I care about you," you say firmly. "I don't want you to feel that type of way, so if you do, we can stop being friends with benefits and just go back to-"

Alhaitham raises his hands in surrender. "No need," he says." I apologize. I wasn't being careful with my choice of words."

The discontent dissipates almost immediately with his words. You can't help but feel pleased. "And aren't you the one with a linguistics degree?" You tease, making him roll his eyes as he takes a bite of his food.

You imagine his eyes are rolled back again if he were to open them now on the ride back to his place as you give him a hand job. Only on the red lights, you vow; you wouldn't want to cause an accident on the road if he were to close his eyes while driving, though the unamused look he gives you has you biting the inside of your cheek to stop smiling.

The two of you end up parked at a neighborhood street when you unclip your seatbelt to finish him off with your mouth. You think his cum tastes a little better than before, and you tell him just as much when Alhaitham tucks himself back in. He only shrugs nonchalantly, but when you look into his fridge later after another session for refreshments you find freshly cut pineapple wrapped in a plate.

You wonder if you would taste better if you started eating them too.

And a month passes with the same routine: you ask if you can come over, the two of you go out to eat or go for an outing before inevitably ending up back at his place for some stress relief. You don't mean to do it every time you go to his place, but it ends up happening anyways. You ask if he wants to try something and then he says yes.

69-ing ends up being a lot more difficult than you anticipated, mainly because you keep getting distracted by things other than the pleasure itself. No matter how many times Alhaitham insists you're not too heavy, and no, you cannot break his neck (his confidence extends in all spheres), you can never get yourself comfortable.

And then there's the alignment issues. You may as well just take turns; it makes it easier for the both of you.

Some things he suggests too, such as face sitting. Alhaitham seems adamant on proving you wrong when he settles underneath you, your thighs on either side of his head as he serves as your seat until your legs are shaking in pleasure.

Alhaitham, you find out, is as good at dirty talk as you imagined. It's the linguistics degree in him, you always joke, but then you're always put in your place when he makes you beg for him to continue eating you out. He is smug as always after these sessions and you can only jab at him to no effect when you see it.

Leaving your jaw slack as he fucks your face, groaning about how good you're taking him, how good you look taking in his cock like you'd like nothing but to take his load down your throat- well. If it was possible for you to finish with just his words, you gladly would have. You are certainly close enough afterwards that Alhaitham only needs his hand on you for a minute before you're creaming onto his fingers, words murmured into your ears like soft feathers.

You voice does end up a little hoarse afterwards, throat sore, but Alhaitham is quick to bring you warm ginger tea to soothe it.

"Go to the bathroom," he tells you sternly. "I won't be responsible for any UTIs."

And when you come back from the bathroom, stark naked (you've instigated round two with this before by accident), your clothes are always ready and folded at the coach with Alhaitham in the kitchen getting you refreshments. It's times like these that make you forced to acknowledge the pink elephant in the room: the more you try not to think about it, the more you feel like Alhaitham would be a really great boyfriend.

Clearly, you overestimated your ability to not catch feelings for a long-time friend whom you trust and has told you straight up he is not interested in dating. You've put yourself in a bit of a sticky situation because you find yourself wanting to abide by the boundaries set by being friends with benefits, but also barely holding back from kissing Alhaitham on the cheek goodbye or asking if you can stay the night. Or taking him on real dates. Or holding his hand when you go out.

You think Alhaitham might not like the hassles that come along with being in a relationship. It's definitely got obligations that he may not be interested in fulfilling-- at least until he finds the right person. The fact he has not said a word to you about it only tells you that you are not that person. (Your heart hopes and yearns though, and you think it needs to shut up.)

Luckily or not, you end up being busy with work and family matters, so you don't get to see Alhaitham for a while. You still message him often, if only to talk about random things or complain about so-and-so. You think you should be more disciplined; perhaps the distance will keep your feelings at bay, but then the moment you find a reprieve in work you're immediately texting Alhaitham to meet up for coffee.

The feelings aren't going away, you think with mild exasperation when you find yourself nodding and hanging onto his every word as he talks about something stupid his coworker has done (and always does). All things come to an end, but you think you like to hang onto Alhaitham like this just a little while longer. Eventually you'll have to broach the dreaded but much needed subject of 'what are we?' but until then, you are more than content being with Alhaitham like this even if you wish you were officially together.

But you can't blame the way things have turned out. After all, if this never happened, would you ever have gotten close to Alhaitham like this?

You check the time on your watch and sigh. "Ugh, I promised I'd run errands for my mom so I gotta go," you say, standing up from the coffee table. You grab your empty cup and toss it in the trash. When you look at Alhaitham, he seems unsure. "Uh, what's up?"

"...I assumed we were going back to my place afterwards," he says carefully. "I thought that was why you called me."

"Oh, no," you say, mouth open with words at the tip of your tongue. You feel your heart rise to your throat as your cheeks grow hot at the honesty of your next words. "I just wanted to see you. Sorry. I should have said something."

"No, it's fine." Alhaitham pushes his seat back to stand too. "You did say we were friends first before the benefits."

You did say that, you remember, but now you can't help but wish the two of you were more than friends. You bite your tongue from blurting those words, but you end up staring at him for a moment too long to not be awkward. "Yeah," you end up saying, "I think I'll be able to see you again next week? I'm less busy, if that's okay?"

"Sure," he says, and you can't help but feel he is so far from you even though he is in arm's reach. "See you then."

It is settled in your heart and head (both in agreement this time) that your friends with benefits relationship with Alhaitham has an expiration date that is coming soon. You like Alhaitham too much to keep pretending that you don't, so it is only a matter of time you end up being just his friend again or begin something anew as a couple. The probability of Alhaitham also catching feelings for you the same time as you is basically zero, you think miserably, so you can only bite the bullet when the time comes.

"I think next time," you say after another session, "I want to have you fuck me."

You hear Alhaitham stop rummaging into his fridge to look at you. His face betrays no emotion and for a frustrating moment, you wish it did just so you can see if he is affected as you are. But this is Alhaitham, and you know better than to expect as much.

"Alright," Alhaitham says. "I can bring the lube and the condoms-"

"No condom," you find yourself saying, "I can take birth control." You look at him, gauging his reaction. "Is that okay with you?"

Alhaitham meets your gaze steadily. "If you are."

"You'll take responsibility, won't you?" You say with a light lilt to your voice, though you trust Alhaitham to take your words seriously. "I'll see you next week?"

He nods. "Next week."

.

The expiration date comes more quickly than you hoped. You shake your head and the negative thoughts away at his front door before you knock. You care for Alhaitham and you like him as more than a friend: these truths are unchanging for you now, so there is no point in despairing about what is not to be. Besides, you don't want your first time-- with someone, with Alhaitham-- to be marred with angst. You want to enjoy it with him to the last minute.

You ring his doorbell and hear his footsteps approach the front door, your heart beating fast in nervous anticipation.

Alhaitham looks normal, which is to say, as calm as ever when he lets you into his apartment. You put your bag down in your usual spot and amble to the kitchen take a sip of water. Alhaitham walks to his room first to wait for you, and with a deep breath in, you follow after him.

You are reminded of the first time you came over to his house, standing there as you wait for Alhaitham to make the first move. Alhaitham does the usual routine: putting the music on, setting out the equipment, and laying down the towel. He turns to you as you quietly watch him and bends down enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

You feel the tension melt away.

You raise your hand to brush his hair from his eyes before cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to kiss. They are gentle ones though still full of feeling, heat thrumming behind every touch and warm breath shared. "Alhaitham," you murmur, his hands sliding your shirt over your head and guiding you toward the couch.

It is almost rehearsed the way Alhaitham's fingers nimbly remove your bra, his knees between your legs as he helps you out of your bottoms. You sit waiting and watching as Alhaitham removes his own clothes--a personal show-- before he is back on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses along the same spots he knows can make you tremble.

And Alhaitham knows you quite well now, you think, beyond the bedroom. He knows how you take your coffee (not black), how you like to order your food (spicy), the way you can get carsick so he drives smoother, the nasty habit of staying up late so he messages you at 11 pm to tell you to sleep. You trust him so terribly much, and he knows you terribly well-- it is no wonder that you fall apart under his touch in no time at all.

"Alhaitham," you breathe out, holding onto his wrist before he overstimulates your clit. "I want you inside of me. Please?"

You let out a surprised gasp when Alhaitham turns you, so he is facing your front. Your heart is beating so loudly underneath your hands where you've rested them on your chest. You think maybe you would have cold feet but instead you are surer than ever that Alhaitham is someone you want to be your first. You gasp in pleasure when Alhaitham's cock clips onto your clit as he glides it forward and back along your sex. You don't think you've ever wanted someone as you wanted Alhaitham.

But you like to think you know Alhaitham well, now better than ever. So when you look up at him as a flicker of emotion flashes across his face, you can identify it. Alhaitham stays in that position between your legs, conflicted, and that is enough to ebb away the waves of desire to ask him if he's okay.

His expression freezes then, his grip on your legs tightening just a little before releasing them again. "What do you mean?" He asks, and you have half a mind to not laugh at the fact he thinks he can fool you.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you say. "Not right now and maybe not ever if that's not something you want-"

"I-" Alhaitham snaps his mouth shut, lips twisting as he tries to say words that, for once, do not come easily to him. "That's not entirely true."

"What's not true?" You prompt.

"That this isn't something I want." Alhaitham looks steadily at you then. "Nothing could be more true."

"...Then how about you fuck something else?" You say, closing your legs and letting the plush of your thighs envelop his cock instead. Alhaitham swallows thickly, though his face is as impartial as ever (but you know better). "Pretend it's the real thing. For practice," you say coyly.

Alhaitham curses under his breath, closing his eyes at the sensation of his cock locked between your thighs.

You breathe out slowly, eyes mesmerized by the slant of his brows from concentration, mouths parted, and eyes closed in pleasure. You find that you don't mind this type of view at all, especially not for the finale. You watch every minute detail of Alhaitham chasing his bliss and ingrain it into your memory to keep.

You breathe out through your nose roughly when Alhaitham's cock hits your clit, his pace quickening as he slickens your thighs with a mix of your arousal and his. You moan at the thought of it, the sounds emanating from it a joint effort between your two bodies.

Alhaitham says your name then, making your heart skip a beat as your focus is back onto him. His eyes don't leave yours as he brings himself close to the climax. "Come for me, Haitham," you say, "come for me, baby."

Almost obediently, Alhaitham does as you say, cum staining your chest as though someone made your body a canvas. You watch him come back from his high, taking a finger to swipe some of it from your chest to taste. You smile at his coyly when you see Alhaitham watch you.

It's been fun, you think, as Alhaitham stands up to grab a towel to clean up. You sit up, combing a hand through your hair, working up the courage to say what needs to be said. You're jolted from your thoughts when you feel Alhaitham wipe a towel across your chest, cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

"Oh, thanks!" You say, laughing, "I almost forgot that was there."

"Your mind works in strange ways," Alhaitham says, and you think you are more compromised than you think when you hear the way his voice seems to dip lower, softer when he speaks to you. He pauses in his movement. "Sorry about earlier," he tells you. "Did you have another idea in mind?"

"It's fine, Haitham." You wave his concerns away. "And, um, sorta? It's nothing sexual actually, I just think I need to talk to you about something."

To his credit, Alhaitham only takes a moment to process your words. "Alright," he says. He takes a towel to wrap around your shoulders before putting his pants back on just for modesty. You watch him fondly as he sits next to you.

"I wanted to say thanks," you begin, "for doing this with me. I trust you to treat me right and you've never proven me wrong."

"No thanks needed," Alhaitham trails off, "is what I normally say but I don't mind a word of gratitude when it comes from you." He lets out a huff of laughter when you knock shoulders with him; yours is the only one that ends up a little sore.

"And I know we started this out as friends with benefits, but, um..." You breathe out. "I think... I've started to catch feelings for you." Not honest enough, you think, and add on, wincing, "A lot, actually. I like you as more than a friend." You turn away from him then, focusing on your hands as they fidget in your lap. "I don't think I can keep on doing this and pretend like I don't, so I think we should stop being friends with benefits."

You stammer, heart fluttering with anxiety, "A-And I know you said you didn't want to be in a relationship anyone, but I was wondering if you were interested in doing that with me...? If not, it's okay, I'm honestly really okay if we stayed as friends. I just wanted to be transparent with you because I think you deserve-"

"Why do you assume I wouldn't like you back?" Alhaitham cuts through. You turn to stare at him, and he meets your eyes and keeps them there. "I never said I didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone."

You stare. "What are you talking about? You're literally the one who told me you were never interested in dating."

"I'm not," Alhaitham says slowly. "I'm not interested in dating, but that doesn't mean I'm not open to being in a relationship with someone."

"Huh?" You blurt out. "But how are you supposed to be in a relationship with someone if you don't meet someone to date them first?"

Alhaitham is patient with you despite your growing frustration. It is so obvious he has connected the dots and is waiting for you to catch up. "I don't need to date," he says, "because I already met someone I'm interested in being with. I don't need to meet new people."

"Wait, what?" You gape. "Who?"

The face that Alhaitham gives you is by far the most unimpressed he has ever looked. You feel like punching it a little. You cross your arms, huffing.

"Give me hints or something," you say, clicking your tongue in annoyance. "Do I know them?"

"Very well," Alhaitham replies, sidling close to you that your arm can feel his body heat.

"Are they from our high school?"

"Yes."

"Really?" You gasp. "Well, we have your friends-"

"They are also your friends."

"-and my friends, which are yours..." You trail off, feeling your face warm and your heart rise to your throat. You can't be hopeful, you think. It is such a dangerous thing when you assume, but you think about who Alhaitham has befriended, who he is still friends with, and who he is closest to. The best answer you keep arriving to is yourself.

Is it too arrogant of you to think that it's you that Alhaitham wants to be with?

"No, it's not prideful to think it's you if it's true," Alhaitham says, and you wonder if you said it aloud. That thought is quickly discarded in favor of thinking over Alhaitham's words. Your heart feels fit to burst, lips wobbly without your permission. His eyes soften when he looks at you then, hand raising to cup your cheek.

"I like you," Alhaitham tells you. "I want to be more than friends."

"More than friends with benefits?" You can't help but ask, and you laugh through the sudden tears when Alhaitham scoffs before pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, way more than that," he says quietly. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple. "I've always wanted more with you."

You sniffle, grinning. "Good thing I asked you then, huh?" You let put a shriek of laughter when Alhaitham pins you down, arms caging you in and making you feel nothing but safe. He looks at you then, eyes full of affection that you wonder how you could have ever missed that before.

"You want to retry from earlier?" Alhaitham asks, pulling your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"I won't lie," you say, laughing when Alhaitham nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. "That talk took a chunk of my energy. I kind of want to nap and cuddle. With you! Besides," you say, shifting so that Alhaitham can join you on the coach, the two of you as close as you can be, "we have all the time in the world to do new things together." You turn to look him in the eyes and hopes he sees how much you adore him in equal amounts.

"I can wait," you say, and Alhaitham leans to kiss you.

It is not the last time he does so.

[sorcerous-caress]

Heyyy!! Could I request the companions taking care of a new baby + a toddler while their partner recovers?

Taking care of the kids while you recover

[Fluff, marriage, raising kids, nb!reader]

[Astarion, Wyll, Gale]

I'm not feeling the best rn so I did just three, i hope you enjoy anon.

Astarion

Seeing that this is your second baby together, he feels less out of his element now. He is more confident in his ability to care for this little bundle of joy with pointy ears cradled in his arms.

He almost doesn't recognise his own self these days. When did his sharp edges grow so soft? When did he become so tender, and when did his eyes become so round and happy?

When you proposed to him that day in the underdark, when you presented him with a modest ring that made him go speechless. He has seen many more glamorous ones, much more expensive ones, but somehow, this simple band with the most precious gem completely took his breath away.

That's how he ended here on this cozy couch with a silver haired toddler running around enthusiastically. Astarion calls them over to gently wipe some crumbs from their face, looking at their innocent adoring eyes.

They had your eyes, he couldn't help but squeeze their adorable cheeks and give them a kiss on the forehead like any dotting father would.

Him, a doting parent? That idea would've made him choke with laughter some years ago.

The ring glimers on his finger as he holds the newborn baby closer to his chest, humming a soothing melody in elvish for his second child. The first stared at him from the side with a pout.

His child was so obvious with their emotions that Astarion couldn't help but chuckle, "Jealously isn't a good look darling, come here." With that, he had another kid cuddling up to him and demanding a lullaby too.

Astarion obliged, relieved that his presence seemed enough for his children at the moment while you were recovering. Part of him was anxious about what if they only wanted you? What if they weren't as attached to him as he thought?

He was never happier to be proven wrong in his life.

Wyll

The sun shines brightly through the thin white curtains in the kitchen. Wyll is mixing together a baby formula on the counter, measuring the right amount on the spoon as he scoops away the extra powder from the top.

Adding the powder into the baby bottle, he gently shakes the warm bottle. The sound of light footsteps approach him in a failed attempt of stealth as a toy wooden sword is pressed against the back of his legs.

"Surrender!" A high voice calls from behind him, his very own kid with determination in their eyes as they press the dull edge of the sword more against Wyll's pants.

"Oh noble hero, may I know what crime am i being accused of before I surrender?" Wyll plays along, a smile painting his lips.

"The crime of!!" His child starts with confidence, "of...." trailing into uncertainty as their grip on the sword falters.

Wyll is patient as he lets them have the time to gather their thought. cleaning and wiping the counter down.

"Of not giving me food!"

"Didn't you just eat your breakfast after stealing my breakfast?" Wyll scooped up his child up in his arm, holding him with one hand while carrying the bottle with the other. His kid kicked their feet in the air as they dropped the wooden sword.

"But dad!! That was hours ago, I'm hungry."

"I clearly recall it being minutes ago."

Moving to the living room where his youngest laid peacefully sleeping in their small rocking bed, Wyll let go of his hold just as he sat on the couch.

Climbing into his lap, the most adorable brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "I want pancakes please" stretching on the end of the word, his kid whined.

With a defeated smile, Wyll agreed to it. Knowing you'd scold him for spoiling the kids too much if you were here right now, still he was weak against them. Somehow, his own kids were more persuasive than any devil this warlock has ever encountered before.

Gale

"There you go, all dry and clean" he said as he started to put on the baby bear onesie back on the giggling infant in front of him, their small hands gripping on Gale's beard with surprising strength as he zipped them up.

Yet the discomfort barely mattered to the wizard, he happily let them play with his face as he admired how adorable they looked in the fluffy animal custom. Smiling and giving their belly a soft kiss to make them laugh even louder.

The loud crash from outside the room barely phased him either as he kept coddling the infant, calling them endearing names and cradling them in his arms. "Papa's here, no need to fret."

"MR.DEKARIOS!" Tara's screech followed shortly after, "your presence is required immediately!"

Still too busy entranced by how adorable his child was, Gale took slow steps out of the room, contouring harmless light tricks to impress his youngest.

The sight that met him was one that would've probably given his younger self a heart attack no doubt, the countless torn pages of books thrown around the floor, the spilled ink and the crumbled magical scrolls.

But as the years went by, he found himself mellowing out much more. Very few things phased him by now, especially with how ironic life tended to be. The fates must be snickering right now. to give him a kid with wild magic in their veins, brimming with sorcery from such a young age.

You usually kept them in line, Gale was too guilty of being an enbaler as you've put it. It's not his fault he thought his kid was the coolest person in all the realms.

"Books are for losers!" Ah, there they stood, his own flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos of papers and magic, a potted plant.

A talking potted plant.

"Did your magic surge again?" Gale could only feel amusement as he leaned down to pick up his child, making sure to hold it far away from his other child so they don't nibble on the leaves of their sibling.

It seemed like both his cat and his child prefered to continue their argument. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense before! Mr.Dekarios, would you please get your spawn in line." Tara, his beloved elegant tressym, was flying around him in an attempt to smack the plant with her soft paws.

With a giggling wobbling infant on his right arm and a potted plant polymorphed kid on his left, Gale effortlessly casted the necessary incantations to reverse the polymorph while avoiding Tara's claws.

A poof of sparkling light filled the room as a full toddler replaced the potted plant, Tara blinded by the light, crashed into them and they all stumbled down onto stacks of torn papers.

The three of them buried under the pile, only the fluffy bear onsie wearing emerged unharmed on top.

[clockwayswrites]

Clock, I need you to know that I dreamt about that fic you aren't writing.

Clock, I don't dream. And on the very rare instances that I do, it's 99% disjointed nonsense that slips out of my head within 10 minutes of waking up. Literally, in my 24 years of life I've only had like 3 or 4 dreams that actually stuck.

But that fic you aren't writing has apparently sunk itself so deep into my brain that I had a once in a blue moon memorable dream about it.

It was still a bit disjointed, but I distinctly recall a dinner party? potluck? IDK, there was food; at Danny and Jason's apartment complex. Like, the while building. Some of Red Hood's crew was there. And Jason was in civvies. Dick was there too. And Danny was conspiring with everyone (not Jason) to be a mischievous little shit. So there weren't enough chairs. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

Oh my gods that is amazing. Also I'm sorry(?) for making you dream? Or you're welcome?

As a gift, to feed your poor brain... let's write a little bit of this. Hum, when would this happen for max amusement... Let's say this is after Danny has asked Hood if he wanted to share, but before the Goon scene.

-

“What the fuck,” Dick murmured to himself.

“They’re hiding chairs,” the stranger, who Dick hadn’t noticed leaning against the kitchen counter till then, explained.

Dick tilted his head in thought and took another sip of the battery acid they were calling punch at this potluck. The potency of the drink might explain what he was watching happen.

The chair on top of the tenuous stack wobbled dangerous.

One of the men— Marco? —who were trying to shove the stack of three chairs into the closet shushed the chair. He pointed at it like one would a misbehaving dog and that the threat alone would get it to stay.

Definitely the punch.

“Why?”

“Because if there aren’t enough chairs, someone is going to have to sit in someone else’s lap and they’re plotting to make that happen,” the stranger said.

Dick took a moment to glance away from the game of closet Jenga to look over the other person. They were a slight thing, but slight in the way that spoke of lean muscles and a hidden strength. It reminded Dick of how Wally was built. The bright aqua eyes were almost unnerving in how bold the color was. The way they were grinning, widely, as they continued to watch the struggle didn’t exactly make them any less unsettling.

They took a large bite out of the cookie they had in hand.

A cookie sounded like a good idea. Dick snagged one from the platter, recognizing Jason’s baking.

Cinnamon and spice bloomed across his tongue. “Huh. Okay. Does Jason know?”

The stranger laughed, shaking their head. “No, that would defeat the whole purpose. He’s the intended chair.”

“Huh.” Well that was interesting. “Who’s the intended seater. Sitter? Sittie?”

“That would be me,” the stranger said, sticking their hand not holding the cookie out. Dick set his war crime known as punch down to shake it. “Hi, I’m Danny. I’m your brother’s accidental sugar baby.”

Dick choked on thin air.

Just how potent was that punch?

[flower-yi]

Margaret's greeting to you is sweet.

She's the assistant Veritas took in three years ago, and hasn't left since. Most people applying to the position have ulterior motives—you glumly recall a specific student, because my goodness, they have little to no shame these days—but just one meeting with her made you sure she'd be 'the one'. Her unwavering yet gentle disposition was endearing, and despite Veritas's distrustful attitude, she got in anyways.

(You think it's one of the best decisions he's made.)

"Is there anything in the mail?" You ask, shutting the door behind you.

She hums, "No, not really."

"Really?" This surprises you. Usually, it's a race to contact him on anything new he's working on. "Veritas said he's expecting letters for that weapon he's finished working on. You know, the anti-planetary one?"

"Remind me what's... that, again?"

Margaret furrows her eyebrows. Maybe Veritas forgot to tell her. "Remember that project he's been working on for a long time? The weapon got sent in for a test-firing and it was successful. So, he's waiting for any correspondence from anyone who'd like to expand on it."

(You remember peeking into his office, once, wondering why he was up so late. He promised more than four hours ago that he'll join you in bed, but there was only a coldness to his side of the bed you'll never get accustomed to.

"I will be there in a couple minutes, my love," Veritas addressed you without lifting his gaze from the blueprints he's scribbling on. From the mess on his hands, it seems he's been working on it since tucking you in. "You may go to the bedroom yourself. It is unnecessary to wait on me."

Instead of listening to him, you entered his office with the door clicking behind you. Veritas's head lifted, lips parted and about to say something, but he stopped; adjusting his glasses.

You draped over him, meeting cold skin.

"What're you working on?" You asked, instead. His warmth soothed you. "Mmh... looks like it's important."

Veritas placed a hand on yours, raised to his lips to be kissed. Aeons, your little doctor was so warm. "This weapon... will be a magnum opus. One that will eventually serve its purpose, and will be recognized for years to come."

Even in the sleep-addled brain of yours, you knew it was important.

"Yeah?"

"Indeed. It will be a weapon that will..." Veritas suddenly fell silent, alarming you. He was quick to assure you with another kiss to your hand, "Do not be so concerned, my love. Either way, this weapon will be reaching its final stages soon."

You were nearing dreamland, at this point. You recall it well.

Though the mutter under his breath was ingrained in your brain:

"An anti-planetary weapon that will, hopefully, earn Nous's blessing this time...")

The spark of recognition appears, "Oh, that one!"

"You know it," you toss her a smile. "So, what's the status? I hope the Genius Society picks up one of his inventions this time. He's been looking forward to it ever since."

You take a moment to place the paper bags on the table, setting aside your bag on one of the chairs for visitors. It's well into the afternoon, classes are finished, and by Veritas's schedule, you're sure both are famished. It's strange he's not in his office at this time. You're never late with your visits, so perhaps it's likely you're early and Veritas is late.

He's probably finishing up the last lectures of the day somewhere.

"I feel the same," Margaret knows Veritas to an extent that falls closely to yours, and it's not hard to root for him the same way you do. It warms your heart to hear how Margaret holds him in high-esteem. "Mr. Ratio's one of the best, they'd be out of the minds to not induct him into the Society—oh, are those chicken wraps?"

The chicken wraps are steaming as you tear away the aluminium foil. "Yeah, I bought it for the two of you. Want one?" Her eager nod has a laugh huff out of you, so you hand it to her. You joke, "So hungry you nearly forgot, huh?"

"Yeah... where did you buy them?"

"It's near the university. There were so many students I had to fight for it..." Thankfully, one of the vendors pitied your nearly trampled self and gave you two on the house. You make a silent note to bring Veritas there to pay your debt. "...anyways, where were we?"

Margaret pauses, "Mr. Ratio's genius?"

Well, that's not what you were saying, but it's a part of the topic. "Yes, genius. Veritas is intelligent, of course. Speaking of genius, did the Genius Society send anything?"

Margaret's reaction to your question is strange. She freezes, chicken wrap just hovering in front of her mouth. Your inquisitive gaze snaps her out of her reverie, and when getting her bearings, she's avoiding your eyes. "Nothing... yet, of course. I've been watching the mail for a week already."

A week? The Genius Society's correspondence normally would not take so long. "Is there anything else in the mail?"

"No, not really," she nods her head.

Huh? The disconnect between her body language and words makes no sense at all. However, the soft smile on Margaret's lips takes the edge of the suspicion off. Why would she lie to your face, though? Unless something's happened, then...

You decide to say something else. "I see... perhaps there's some issue with the mailing system?"

"Maybe!" Margaret agrees too easily with you. Her voice went too high-pitched, smile exaggerated, then she changes the subject, "Have you eaten on the way here? It feels impolite to be the only one eating."

The sudden mention of manners has you laugh awkwardly. It's already strange enough she's avoiding a simple question like she is right now but the poor girl looks like she's about to burst with your incessant questioning of if there's anything in the mail .

Is it really so hard to answer?

"Yes, I did," you answer. Gesturing to her chicken wrap, you say, "So, go ahead and eat. It's alright."

When you turn your gaze away from her, it's as if Margaret breathes a sigh of relief. It's obvious even in the corner of your eye. For the three years she's been here, her knowledge on Veritas's projects would be better than yours. After all, it is something work related, and she deals with his correspondence to anyone on behalf of him.

If she's lying like this, then there must be a reason. A Veritas-shaped reason, indeed, because he's got a bad habit of concealing things when it comes to something.

Letting Margaret be, you take a seat on one of the chairs meant for guests. Veritas's office is a spacious one, with a small reception area for visitors to wait on him. The door to his office is by the left, the entrance to this space on the right, and Margaret's desk in the middle of the room with the lounge chairs lined up by the wall in front of her.

With this placement, it provides you a clear view of Veritas's door... and the light escaping below it.

He's here in his office and he didn't come out to greet you.

Several emotions rise up and simmer in you. Some of them are negative. Well. Most of them are, because the way alarm and concern starts to boil within you is too much.

You take a deep breath to sort your emotions first. Your feelings are negative, and worry takes the top of the list. There are some wisps of anger but it quickly melts into the emotion up top and you slowly realise that Veritas has not messaged you even once starting... 1700 system hours ago.

With your phone now in hand, you shoot him a message.

It's something to the effect of asking where he is. The loud ding! of his own phone seeps out of his office room, out into the reception, and into Margaret and yours' ears.

Guilt colours Margaret's face vibrantly.

"I can explain," she begins as you stand up, making your way to his office. Poor girl, she's been shocked out of savouring the chicken wrap you've bought. "He's— he needs some time to himself..."

It's something other than needing time to himself, you know it, you know .

You give her a rueful smile, "Is that why you told me there's no mail?"

Margaret... falls short on an answer. The diverting of her eyes to the floor tells you everything. The successful test-firing of that anti-planetary weapon was done a few weeks ago, and everyone in the know was scrambling to cover it. It was Veritas, after all, and his name—like every genius—is known across the star systems. It'd make no sense there was no mail, no nothing , to be sent to him.

You only hold on to that tiny, little hope that you're wrong and Veritas is too caught on rejoicing to have noticed your arrival.

Only a look of understanding could be given to her. To scream, to yell, to let everything burst on Margaret is counter-productive. Maybe, if you asked, she'd say that she was merely doing what she, as an academic assistant, should do.

(If it was some other situation, you'd say—to his face—that you were right about Margaret. You'd say to him she's the best academic assistant he's ever had.)

You barely spare Margaret any glance before opening the door to his office. Thousands of thoughts trickle into your brain now, ranging from is he okay? to I hope nothing's bad happened.

Every moment of you turning the knob to open feels like in slow motion. Your heart is racing, just every inkling sending you in a worry-filled tizzy, and you feel nearly paralyzed in the spot where you are right now.

You open the door, and pity and fear and just everything drops a cold bucket over you.

Veritas sits on the chair by his desk, a crumpled letter on the wood and his headpiece discarded somewhere off to the side.

You're sure he's heard you coming in.

"Veritas?"

He absentmindedly says, "You may enter."

Veritas's voice doesn't have the usual lilt it has. It does not carry around the room, nor does it have its self-assured cadence that comes from being a genius. He stares at the scenery outside his office window, as if too entranced with the way light leaves the sky to make way for the moon. The moon that merely borrows its lumination from the sun.

The door locks behind you with a click that seems to echo in the dreadfully silent office. Now, only your footsteps make noise while approaching him. You move like you're holding your breath, not wanting to startle an animal that's already on its last legs.

But it's Veritas. He's not some lowly animal, though you know his heart to be softer than anyone else would presume.

Leaned over him, you bring his face into your hands. He lets you so readily, not once making any smart comment about handling him like porcelain.

(You received such a comment, once, when doing so the first time. Before Margaret, it was you. It was so long ago you don't recall, but Veritas had turned to you for help in handling his interactions with the "outside world", he'd call it, and this time, he was busy with a project. Some prototype he'd been originally commissioned to make, though, without any second thoughts, turned down any offer of payment and instead asked that his name be "spread across the cosmos". You originally blanched at the credits the ruler of the planet was willing to drop for Veritas's involvement in their planet-wide security, but he easily brushed your surprise off. At that moment, you were sure that, to him, it was another day of putting his gifts to use. Another day of using his intelligence to aid in the prosperity of civilizations, as if it was nothing to boast about. "Do I seem to evoke some child-like energy to hold me like this?" Veritas questioned, a quizzical brow arched. There was nothing in his tone that suggested he disliked it to the point of abhorrence. If anything, he looked— curious as to why you'd hold him like this. Instead of answering that silent question, you cooed, "Oh, yes. A little baby, indeed! You're so adorable—" "That's enough," he interrupted. You couldn't help but laugh at his disgusted face. "While I appreciate the gesture, I ask you continue sorting through the letters that came through the mail if you are wasting your time like this." "You call this wasted time? I'm suddenly not allowed to hold my handsome boy like this." Veritas's eyes narrowed. "Cease calling me a 'handsome boy', and I will consider this time to be not of the 'wasted' sort." So, he didn't hate it then. You smiled. "You like it then, Veritas?" He fell silent, you recall. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it seemed like he'd say no. Then Veritas turned his head, kissed your palm, and murmured, "If it's you... then, yes.")

You wonder if he can outright acknowledge it's you who's holding him this way. He seems so out of it that what gnaws at you says no, but you try. You try for him. "Veritas?" You say, again, redirecting his attention to you. His eyes follow his head's movement, but it drags, and it's like it's taking everything out of him to begin looking at you.

Faint recognition appears on his face, and his voice softens too much, unlike the usual way he addresses you, "...My apologies for not greeting you when you came. I was absorbed in my readings of a letter the IPC sent me. An invitation of some sorts..."

When you see his eyes, the world falls silent.

Oh, Aeons, his eyes. Its lost its sheen and barely looks like he's there at all.

Your heart aches. So, that's it, then.

"What did they invite you to, love?" You ask, caressing his cheeks.

Veritas breathes as if it takes so much out of him to say, “The Intelligentsia Guild.”

“Ah,” You hum, willing the sadness away from your features. This moment is about Veritas, not you. “I see. You think I should reply to them, instead?”

The shake of Veritas’s head is slow. The hand he raises to envelop over yours is warm, yet you cannot find yourself to find comfort in it. “It is… better than nothing, love.”

The sight of Veritas blurs.

And, of course, out of everything, he notices you.

"You're crying," Veritas whispers softly. He reaches over and attempts to wipe away the tears streaming down, trying to soothe you. "Am I the cause of your tears? Then, I apologize. For... for being such a failure in front of you. Nous has not deemed me enough." You hadn't realized your eyes beginning to water; a single tear brought on a waterfall.

Aeons, you want to beat him ten times over. "You're not supposed to say sorry, Veritas. I'm... I'm only so worried about you."

Veritas meets eyes with you, and knows that it's not enough to cover the defeat. The disappointment surrounding his head like clouds, blurring every aspect of himself that he thought himself to be worthy of Nous' gaze.

He looks tired; an exhaustion that drills into his bones and something far beyond you. You think he's feeling the countless hours he's poured into that weapon, the surge of ambition and dedication used to fuel his drive, and the beginning of something chipping away at him and you don't know what.

(It scares you. It scares you because Veritas shoulders too many burdens he should have given to you to share.)

"You're the best scholar I’ve ever met, Veritas,“ You tell him, pushing past the tears that line your face. ”The smartest I’ve ever seen. Have you known your intelligence was the part of you that pulled me towards you? Your genius is unparalleled, my love. There is no one else I can think of if, ever, someone asks me about the most astute person I know.“

Does he think they are empty compliments? Because Veritas merely says, “Your words are better suited to a man whose Nous’ gaze fell upon him.”

You fall silent, defeated. What are you supposed to say? Are you to tell him that Nous does not matter, when his life is centered around knowledge? What is someone to do in this situation? What is comfort to a man who has been seared beyond recognition by an Aeon whom he worships?

“It is not hopeless,” Someone speaks, and you take a moment to recognize that it is you who has spoken. “Will you let an Aeon define who you are, Veritas?”

Veritas’s eyes slip close, and his forehead rests against yours. There is nothing but your soft sniffling, the steady breathing of your lover, and the persistent ticking of the clock in his office that sounds off. It is quiet and chilling, as if waiting for some bomb to tick off to end this moment once and for all.

His eyelids flutter, reddish-pink eyes peeking through—some brightness have returned, but not enough.

Veritas replies, “I… will try not to let them define me.”

To you, that is enough.

(You know than more that he will take this moment, and let it haunt him.)