#they’re both my precious babies and I love them

[monkee-mobile]

why is davy actually so fucking tiny?!!!

like i forget he’s literally so small and then i see this.

like… he’s so widdle…

[esote-rika]

𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Smut 18+ MDNI Summary: Bringing your boyfriend to a lingerie sale causes some big problems to arise. Luckily, you’re always down to take care of him, regardless of when and where. Content: 3.3k words, established relationship, Spencer is so so so down bad, reader is a menace, lots of banter, semi-public sex, hand job, improvised gags, unprotected p in v, needy sub!Spencer, kinda switch? Idk they’re both horny for each other, size kink, reader wears lingerie and is shorter than Spencer. a/n: not proofread + am sick, pls forgive mistakes. I just needed something light and stupid after reading THG prequels and rewatching all the movies back to back so here we are. Same girlfriend reader as the last fic. Based on my darling lover’s request.

He’s not sure how he got here.

That’s a lie. He knows exactly how he got here, why he’s here, and it’s because every single atom in his body seems to become irrationally unable to say no to you. It’s pathetic, really. You don’t even have to plead anymore—though you still do, of course, pretty eyes widening just so, lower lip pushing out into a slight pout, and it makes his heart clench and his heart swell in ways that distress him. (You’re dangerous for his health, he’s sure of it, but it doesn’t even matter. If his life is cut short, he can’t think of a better way to go than being loved by you.)

Today, you hadn’t even done that. Just words spoken in a soft little whine, “My favorite store has an ongoing sale.”

How is he to deny you? The boutique isn’t too far away, and while he’d had plans to read for his day off, he can put those off for you. He can read anywhere, at any time. In pockets of vacancy at work, idle minutes during his commute. Time with you is precious, and if you want him to accompany you to a store, then that’s precisely what he’ll do.

There’s just one problem: you hadn’t really specified what kind of store.

Would he have been able to say no if you told him from the beginning that he’d be accompanying you into a lingerie store? Survey says no, probably not, but still, the heads up would have been nice. Kind, actually, because now he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, surrounded on all sides by flouncy, see through fabric in suggestive cuts. Lingerie. You brought him along as you went lingerie shopping.

Here’s the thing: Spencer Reid is no prude. He has studied the human body and anatomy extensively as a young boy, and has such a vivid, graphic memory of them from his time working at the BAU. But those had always been under the guise of science, where he could step back and assess things objectively. Often, the human parts are injured, devastatingly mangled. Viewing them requires compassion and intelligence, not lust. 

He has no idea what to do with the thought of bodies in this way—scantily covered by pretty patterns and thin fabric. Your body specifically. The very idea causes a shudder through him, the familiar heat. Focus, he tells himself, hands shoved deep in his pockets, balled into tight fists. His nails bite into his palm, and he welcomes the sting, focusing on that instead of the image of you in that navy silk slip… or in the pretty purple lace set… or—

“Spence?” 

“Yes?” 

“I’m gonna try these on, okay?”

A panicked look must cross his face, because you laugh, a hand reaching out to caress his cheek.

“I won’t be long, baby. None of these clothes can hurt you, and the sales people don’t bite.”

He’d feign offense if he were in a better state of mind, but he’s a little too panicked to come up with a response. You don’t understand. The very idea of you trying on lingerie is sending some very dangerous images to his brain. Images that, in turn, are causing very physical problems. Specifically in his crotch area. Still, he’s in public. He’s a grown man with working functions and impulse control. So he nods, forces a smile on his lips. 

Satisfied, you press a quick kiss to his jaw, and hurry off to the corridor on the far corner of the boutique, where a line of fitting rooms await. He watches the bundle of lingerie in your hands. He hadn’t even noticed what you were choosing, but Spencer decides that’s for the best. It’s easier to fight his imagination if he doesn’t know the details of your choices. Easier to sit on one of the lounge chairs and fiddle with his hands, gnawing on his lip anxiously, patiently, waiting for you to reemerge with a smile that tells him you’ve made your choice. 

Still, being alone while other women mill about is making him restless. He stands, wandering over to the fitting rooms, “Angel?”

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t like being impatient, he doesn’t even mind waiting for you but god he can’t get his mind to focus. “You almost done?”

“Not yet!” 

He nods, before realizing you can’t see him. “All right, I’ll be right here then.” he answers, leaning on the wall and staring at his feet so he doesn’t seem like a random creep. But then you’re calling out to him again.

“I want to show you.”

Oh, you really are bad for his health. 

“Don’t come out!” he says quickly, looking around. The store isn’t busy, but still, the idea of other people catching sight of you makes something in his chest tighten.

A giggle, and then your head pokes through the heavy curtains, “Okay, then you come in.”

Once again, he is powerless to say no. His feet move, one in front of the other, even though his mind is telling him no, this is a bad idea, turn back. Still, he finds himself in the enclosed space with you. A full length mirror greets him, and that’s where he sees you first. Swathes of artfully arranged black lace and soft mesh fabric that barely cover your body, fastened only by thin straps over your shoulders. 

So very dangerous.

“What do you think?” your eyes meet his in the mirror, deceptively, infuriatingly innocent.

“It’s-uh-pretty.”

“Just pretty?” your head cocks to the side, lips pulled into that pout and Spencer swears the room has no more oxygen. He’s about to pass out.

“Gorgeous,” he manages to say, “Stunning, radiant, angel it fits you perfectly.” his eyes drop to your chest and the words stop abruptly, though his mouth remains slack.

You twist to the side, examining your reflection. The fabric floats around your body, giving him a view of your perfect ass underneath. The panties you have on are a baby blue, not matching the sultry, inky ivory of the slip you’re wearing, and he wants to ask why don’t they match, but no words come from his open mouth.

“Spence, baby, you’re gonna catch flies.” your teasing remark wrenches him from his reverie. You whirl around to face him, half naked and mused, the loveliest creature he’s ever seen. He manages to tear his gaze away from the mirror and focus on the real thing, and how did he ever get so lucky with you?

“No flies anywhere.” he replies, hands finding your waist. His grip is shaky, but firm. Your eyes flash with mischief and he knows he’s a goner. 

“It’s just a saying.”

“I know.” he dips his head, unable to help himself. Soft lips latch onto your jaw, open and warm, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“In this slip?” Your giggle goes straight to his groin. 

“In anything,” he pulls back, trying to reign in his desire, “In nothing.”

Your brow raises, and he lets out a soft sheepish laugh. 

“Sorry, it’s just…” he trails off, his hands rubbing your hips through the flimsy dress. Mind absolutely devoid of any thought except for how beautiful you look in this tiny piece, how it clings to your breasts and shows teasing hints of your nipples through the thin lace.

“What was that, Spence?” you murmur teasingly, stepping into his personal space. Bodies flush. The lack of distance between you, the familiar softness of your body melting into him brings his attention to the growing tightness at his crotch.

“Mhm? N-nothing.”

“Doesn’t feel like nothing.” There’s that sparkle in your eyes again, devious as you sway your hips against his carefully. The action makes his steadily swelling cock twitch with even more want. 

He has to swallow a moan, but the warning still comes out strangled, “Angel.”  Really, you’re closer to the devil right now, tempting him like this. He tightens his hold on your hips to steady you, brows furrowed as he tries to calm down. 

It’s too late though. You’re both well aware of the growing tent in his pants.

“All right,” you step back, wearing a mask of mock surrender, “Fine, no more teasing. You can go back out now, I’m gonna change again.”

“What?” 

One corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk, “I was being naughty, I’m sorry. You can go back out, I just wanted to show you this slip.”

Evil. You’re evil and dangerous and Spencer Reid is so utterly in love with you. And a little turned on by it.

“Angel, I can’t go back out there!” he whispers, tugging his tight pants. It’s no use. He’s so worked up his cock is beginning to ache in its confines. 

(Okay, so more than a little turned on.) 

Your eyes fall to his crotch, widening comically as though you’re seeing it for the first time, “Oh, would you look at that!” You step back into his space, hands coming up to cradle his jaw. He leans into your touch, welcoming your sweet mockery with his usual, eager docility. “Got worked up for me, hmm? All from seeing me in this slip?”

He nods, hands finding your hips again, holding you to him. “You knew what you were doing.” There’s absolutely no hint of accusation in his voice. You both know it’s true anyway.

“Mhm. And I can’t let you walk back out there like this, can I?” you lift yourself to your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Not after you’ve been so patient with me.”

A sharp inhale as he feels your hands on his belt. What he would give to just be completely buried in you right now, to lose his mind in your tight heat, but— “We’re in public.”

“We’re in a room.”

“A fitting room.”

“Still a room.” you’ve pushed his pants just enough to free his cock. Even being out of his pants eases some of the tension, the length springing out and jutting from his body. Long and embarrassingly red. Your hands close around it, one hand at the base and stroking up and down, the other at the tip, squeezing gently, thumb running over his slit and spreading his leaking pre cum. 

He fights back a moan and promptly loses.

“Spence.” Your voice is low, but stern, “Keep quiet.”

He nods, teeth sinking into his lower lip to contain his moans. He squeezes his eyes shut, too overwhelmed by the vision of you in nothing but a flimsy slip and panties, in this well lit, public room, giving him a hand job. No, he can’t watch, he’ll bust then and there, but he knows you’re only getting started.

Your hands work up and down his length, twisting just the way he likes, all while continuing to thumb at the tip. Unable to help it, his hips buck into your hands, shamelessly fucking your palms while his cock twitches in them. 

“Look at me,” you croon, breath hot against his neck. Once again, as though his body is wired to obey your every command, his eyes fly open. He moans immediately at the sight of you, which makes you tut disapprovingly. With a shake of your head, you stop, and he can’t help but let out a whine in protest.

“Why’d you—” “You’re too loud, baby, they’ll catch us.” 

He watches with a dazed, glassy eyed confusion as you hook your fingers through the waistband of your panties and tug the lacy blue material down your legs. Crumpled between your lovely hands, it turns into a small ball of fabric which you hold up to his mouth, “Bite down on this.”

His brain seems to snap at attention. “I-I can’t, isn’t that store property?” Leave it to his mind to worry about logistics and practicality.

You chuckle, pulling his collar down for a kiss. When his lips meet yours, he wonders why he ever questioned you.

“It’s mine,” you mumble against his mouth. A nibble at his lower lip sends tremors whispering down his spine, “We’re not allowed to try on panties in this store. Something about sanitation.”

Sanitation. The very thought makes him chuckle. It seems so insignificant now, with what they’re about to do.

Still, he accepts the explanation, and allows you to slip the crumpled panties into his mouth. He bites down, tasting hints of your arousal as the fabric meets his tongue. It becomes very clear that he needs this gag, because he immediately moans at the taste.

You giggle soundlessly, the effort to keep silent making your shoulders quiver from your laughter. “You just can’t help yourself huh?” You give his cock a few more strokes, lazy and playful, before walking over to the mirror and bracing yourself against it by your elbows. The panties nearly fall from his mouth as he watches you push your hips back, the slip riding up to expose your ass and the wet, swollen folds beneath. 

Is this heaven? It must be. Just him and his angel, who’s offering herself up and watching him intently through the reflection in the mirror.

“Come on, baby, before the sales people get suspicious.” you murmur. Your eyes flash dangerously in the mirror, but he knows it’s not a mere trick of the light. You’re getting a kick out of this too, the same way he is. 

With a choked sound, muffled by the lace, Spencer steps up behind you. Cock in hand, he lets the blunt tip glide across your soaked folds, letting your arousal mingle with his precum and coat his length. Normally, he’d use his fingers first, coax your walls into a more relaxed state, but you’re right. There’s no time for that. Someone could check up on the two of you any time. The thought makes his cock twitch, and he finally eases into your entrance, slowly pushing into the familiar warmth of your pussy.

He sees your mouth fall open from the stretch. It never gets old, this initial penetration, the way your body always seems to yield to the sheer size of him, no matter how long it has been. He knows he’s moving on borrowed time, only moments to bring you ecstasy, but still he allows himself to savor this first entrance, the tight grip of your pussy around his cock. 

And then he moves, rocking his hips back and forth, watching the mirror for your reactions, trying to make sure he’s not hurting you. But the mirror only reflects pleasure on both your faces. Your face lax, a vision of bleary eyed bliss. His own brows are furrowed with concentration as he shifts his hips, trying to hit the spot from this new angle, one where you’re upright, but bent slightly and anchored by your arms against a wall. 

One of his hands grip your thigh, lifting it up so that your knee is braced on the mirror as well, opening you up to him a little more. His cock sinks another inch deeper, teeth biting down on the panties as he feels you clench.

“Fuck!” you groan, and he knows he’s found the spot. He moves both hands on your waist, holding you steady, marveling at the way he towers over you in this position. A sense of power fills him, warm and glowing from the trust you’ve put upon him. His thrusts grow firmer, steadier, as he feels your tight pussy fluttering and clenching around him. Spencer has to fight the urge to bury his entire length in you; you’ve never done that before and he doesn’t want it to happen on some random quickie.

Still, even though he’s not all the way in, he knows he’s doing a good job, judging by the increasing gasps that leave your perfect mouth. The looming threat of being found, the promise of people beyond the heavy curtains excites him, alarmingly so. And it seems like you’re on the same boat, as you keep glancing over your shoulder, half keeping watch, half daring people to yank those curtains back and expose the debauchery happening within the tiny space of this dressing room. 

He shudders at the thought, thrusting into you more roughly than before. It sends him deep inside your walls, and a cry escapes your lips. Your gazes meet in the mirror, equally mortified, nervous, and excited. 

Spencer continues to move, fucking you in this position. If someone heard, they must have opted to ignore the sound instead, and he’s going to take advantage of that fact, bending his body over yours so that his chest is flush against your back. You clench around him in response, your body greedily eating up every inch he’s allowing himself to give you. 

“God, you’re in so deep.” you gasp, “So, so deep, feels so good.”

He recognizes this state, mindless and vocal from pleasure and he knows you're close. 

“Spence, oh my god baby, so big, you’re - oh fuck, yes!”

It makes him proud, his chest filling with a warmth only you can seem to produce, the very act of reducing you to this babbling, nearly incoherent mess but it also poses a problem. You’re becoming too loud. Too risky. In the heat of the moment, and without stopping the rhythm of his thrusts, Spencer yanks your panties out of his mouth and transfers the fabric into your own. Crumpled up, damp with his saliva, they stop the silly, pleasure drunk stream of words that have been spilling from your lips.

Your eyes meet in the mirror again, his own amused and slightly apologetic, yours barely comprehending.

“Gotta keep quiet, angel.” he murmurs, voice gravelly from disuse, “We wouldn’t want an audience.”

A whimper, smothered by your own panties, perks up his ears and goes straight to his cock. “God baby, you’re so good, letting me have you like this.” he gasps, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. 

His cock feels sensitive, ready to burst at any given moment. His thrusts become sloppy, erratic, one arm wrapping around your waist to keep you tethered to him because he can feel your legs and thighs quivering under his weight. Spencer uses his other hand to brace against the mirror, staining the once clear glass with sweat and condensation.

“Angel, ah!” he’s aware his volume is increasing as the pleasure intensifies, so he bites down on the closest possible thing—your shoulder. As teeth sink into flesh, your pussy tightens around his cock in response, and he’s done for, unraveled, spilling his cum deep into your being. He continues to thrust, recognizing the way you’re squirming against him, the nearly vice like grip of your walls on his thick length.

“That’s it,” he gasps soothing the bite with his lips and tongue, talking and fucking you through your own orgasm, “That’s it angel, come for me, please, need to feel you, that’s it, there you go.”

Normally, he’d bask in the afterglow, hold you to him until neither of you can breath and the lack of space becomes claustrophobic. But not right now. He has to remind himself you’re still in a public store, separated from people by mere fabric—heavy, curtains, sure, but still fabric. So he holds out his hand in front of your mouth, allowing you to spit out the wad of lace into his palm, and pulls out of your fluttering cunt carefully. His cock still throbs but is slowly softening. He helps you stand up.

“God, that was—I can’t believe we did that.” Spencer whispers. Unable to withhold his affection, he peppers your temple and forehead with kisses, relishing in the sweet sighs of contentment that leave your lips, now no longer cushioned by the panties.

“‘Twas so good,” you bury your face in his chest, and he holds you, supports your weight by wrapping his arms around your waist, “‘M so sweaty.”

He laughs, “Yeah, this fitting room got a little heated.”

“Ruined the slip.” you peek up at him, eyes no longer flashing with mischief but cloudy with pleasure.

“Good thing I’m buying it for you then,” he presses his lips to your sweat stained forehead, “There’s no way you’re leaving without it.”

Thank you for reading! Part of the big useless dick chronicles collection.

[invincibledc]

Tiny request for twin reader with damian mabye they were seperated at birth aka talia gave bruce twin reader and kept damian but win reader has some kind of disability like walking with crutches and as soon as damian moves in he goes into protective brother mode and always tries to help twin reader

“I’m your protector.”

Damian Al ghul-Wayne x Disabled! Twinreader

Summary: separated from birth, Damian finds out you are disabled from walking. Knowing that you are his blood sibling, he can’t help but be protective over you

After Talia revealed to Damian he had a twin (brother/sister) that she gave away to his father all because you were disabled. He felt anger towards his mother and a little bit of betrayal.

How could she keep such a secret from him and the fact she just gave you away made him feel…protective.

He wants to know you are okay. He wants to make sure you are okay. So when he moved into his new room, he got a knock on his door. He opens it to see, you. You had crutches, smiling as your hand grip the crutches handle. “Brother! Oh my, we do look the same!” You were excited, happy. Damian immediately observed you, he sees you are pure of light. He was right to feel protective when you don’t know much of the words he is saying with his high vocabulary.

He draws and colors on your crutches, he likes to see the light in your eyes when he draws what you like on your crutches.

You both may be different, but his brotherly love is not. He’s always sitting by you, dinner, breakfast, lunch out of the manor, events, galas. He’s always there. Sure Bruce would try and tell Damian that you can protect yourself, maybe even that you can do things without his help. But you’re ten, just like him. So what did he do? Not listen to his father like he always do.

He’s happy to know you never wanted or tried to be Robin. His heart would break knowing that his precious half would try and fight. But that also meant you never learned how to protect yourself and fight mostly, making it worse for Damian to grasp.

Damian tried not to baby you much, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious at those random thoughts in the back of his head. “They’re gonna fall one day, what if no one is there to pick him up.” He would sometimes just sleep on a chair in your room incase you fall off your bed.

Damian would train Titus for whenever you fall and you can’t reach your crutches. He would have Titus use his body and guide you somewhere so you can get up.

“I’m your protector.” He would say when he sees you trying to get up and grab your crutches. But titus and him are already up and helping you. You laugh thinking he’s joking, but he’s not.

If you’re sick? Protectiveness levels are off the charts when he sees you cough and shake. Yeah he’s not going to school until you’re better. No way he’s leaving his sibling at home!

Would call pennyworth off his phone if you are homeschooled. Always checking up on you no matter what, it doesn’t matter if Alfred says you are okay. He wants to hear you say it.

If someone dared to make fun of you, he’s after them like the devil himself. If they dared to try and take your crutches, it’s gonna get wicked. Even god himself won’t be able to take Damian off the assailant.

Say you were also on the artistic route, he would absolutely treasure your art work. “It’s bad..” you said once, and Damian straight up lectured you about how art takes time and how beautiful your art work is to him no matter what.

I can see Jason saying it’s true the artwork looked terrible, and Damian just straight up chased him around angrily while you try to tell Damian it’s okay.

Titus adores you, and you adore Titus which makes Damian feel even better that Titus likes you. I mean who wouldn’t when literally you are the sunshine of the family.

Damian definitely have written letters to you when he was on “punishment” is what he called it when he had to go work with the titans. So when you visit him at the titans tower, he made sure most things were safe proof for you. Kory already knew you because of Dick. Kory tries to reason to Damian as he literally rips something apart because he deemed it as “unsafe.” But did he listen? No.

When beast boy playfully was play fighting with you, Damian was ready to cut Garfield’s head off. Only for you to wipe the floor of the green shapeshifter by using your crutch as a bat. Damian hid his sword with a smirk, maybe he doesn’t need to protect you much.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Soft Landings

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: After giving birth to baby Skylar, you returns home with Paige and Azzi for their first day as a family of three.

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @shikaizer

There’s something about hospital mornings. They’re too bright and too slow. And everything smells like disinfectant and banana pudding that’s been sitting out too long.

I was already propped up in the bed, Skylar sleeping in her bassinet, when the nurse came in with our discharge paperwork. Paige was up and stretching like she hadn’t just spent the last two nights sleeping in a half-chair, half-human-pretzel formation. Azzi was brushing her teeth with a travel-sized brush and one sock on. She’d been crying quietly again this morning—happy tears, she said.

I felt like I’d been run over by several buses. But Skylar was here. Healthy. Perfect. And we were finally going home.

“Alright,” the nurse smiled. “Ready to go meet the world, Skylar?”

Azzi gasped and immediately scooped her up. “Nope! The world can wait. We’re on private access only for at least 24 hours.”

I laughed softly. My body still ached in strange places. My boobs felt like overinflated water balloons. I was sweating even though the room was cold. But my heart?

It had never been fuller.

Packing up was chaotic in the sweetest way. Paige had a whole system.

“Okay, baby bag, double-checked. Swaddle blanket. Car seat installed last week. You did watch the video I sent, right, Az?”

“I helped install it, Paige.”

“Yeah, but did you watch the video?”

“I was the video!”

I grinned from the bed, watching them buzz around like two over-caffeinated bees. Azzi was checking Skylar’s cap, adjusting it like she was preparing her for a photo shoot. Paige was busy making sure my water bottle, nipple pads, snacks, and every single form the hospital had given us were packed away in the overstuffed duffle.

“Alright,” Paige said, finally exhaling. “You ready, mama?”

The nurse returned with a wheelchair.

“I can walk,” I said immediately.

“Nope,” Azzi grinned, already helping me swing my legs to the edge of the bed. “Hospital policy.”

“But I feel fine—”

“Wheelchair.” Paige pointed. “Sit down, superwoman.”

I scowled, but I sat. The moment I did, I exhaled with relief. My body was not ready to be walking around like I didn’t just push a baby out 72 hours ago.

Paige picked up Skylar, who was strapped into her newborn car seat like a little burrito. Her head lolled slightly and her pouty lips parted in her sleep.

And then Paige did it.

The dad walk.

She held that car seat like it was the most precious, breakable object on Earth—elbows locked, eyes wide, moving like someone carrying nitroglycerin through a war zone. Azzi and I both burst into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” Paige said, turning slowly. “If I tilt her even slightly wrong, she’ll wake up. This is serious. I trained for this.”

Azzi leaned down and kissed my cheek before grabbing the wheelchair handles. “Alright, mama. Let’s get you and Miss Skylar home.”

The ride home was quiet, with only a few occasional whimpers from Skylar in the back seat. Paige drove like she was hauling royal cargo, glaring at every pothole and going 5 under the speed limit.

Azzi held my hand the entire way home.

I don’t know why I teared up when we pulled up to the apartment. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was the fact that the “Welcome Baby Skylar” banner Kayla taped to the front door was crooked and adorable and spelled ‘Skylaur’ before she crossed out the ‘u’ in Sharpie.

“I love you guys,” I sniffled.

Paige turned off the car and looked back. “We love you more.”

Once we got inside, I barely made it to the couch before Skylar started to fuss. Azzi unbuckled her and brought her over, already cooing.

“Okay, baby girl, let’s try skin-to-skin, huh?” Azzi said, slipping out of her hoodie and cradling Skylar to her chest. Within seconds, Skylar calmed, nestling right under her collarbone like she belonged there.

“She likes your heartbeat,” I whispered, watching from the couch.

“She likes her mommy,” Paige said, settling beside me and handing me a blanket. “And her mama. She knows she’s safe.”

“I thought we were gonna let people come by today,” I said, watching Skylar yawn.

Paige reached over to brush a strand of hair from my face. “We talked about it while you were sleeping. And we said no. You’re not entertaining anybody. You’re healing.”

Azzi nodded, still swaying with Skylar in her arms. “They all saw her enough at the hospital. They’ll see her soon enough. Right now, it’s just us.”

They treated me like a queen the rest of the day.

I tried to clean up after lunch? Paige took the sponge out of my hand.

I tried to fold some of Skylar’s blankets? Azzi gave me a look and pointed toward the couch like I was on a time-out.

I tried to vacuum? Paige literally unplugged the vacuum and said, “Babe. Sit. Down.”

Instead, they brought me food. My favorite food.

All the stuff I couldn’t have while pregnant—sushi, deli meat, extra espresso in my iced coffee. And they didn’t stop there. They brought out a tray full of sweet treats: brownies, sour candy, strawberry cheesecake bites.

“You’re gonna give me a sugar crash,” I groaned, halfway through my brownie.

“That’s the goal,” Azzi grinned. “Then you’ll have to nap.”

Skylar was fussy that afternoon.

Nothing crazy—just those newborn squeaks and whines that made you want to both cry and laugh at the same time. She spit up all over Paige during one diaper change, which Azzi caught in a photo and is absolutely never going to delete.

“She’s so cute,” I whispered that night, just watching her sleep in her bassinet beside our bed.

Paige was rubbing my back with one hand while scrolling through her phone with the other. “You’ve said that like thirty times today.”

“She is though.”

Azzi poked her head in from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “She’s gonna get a complex.”

“She’s already got one,” I muttered. “Every time we stop looking at her, she squeaks for attention.”

“Just like her mama,” Paige teased, kissing my shoulder.

“Hey,” I said. “Not wrong. But hey.”

What they didn’t prepare me for?

The breast milk thing.

I woke up at 2am sweating through my shirt and practically leaking.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, staring down at myself. “What the hell.”

Paige stirred next to me. “You okay?”

“I look like I went swimming in my own milk,” I muttered, climbing out of bed slowly. “My boobs feel like they’re gonna explode.”

Azzi helped me set up the pump, both of them whispering sleepy encouragements as I filled the freezer bags with what felt like way too much milk for someone who’d only been home for a day.

“I’m overproducing,” I said quietly, trying not to panic. “It’s too much.”

“You’re amazing,” Paige whispered. “Skylar’s lucky. We’ll make space in the freezer. Don’t worry.”

Azzi kissed my forehead as she labeled the bags. “You’re doing perfect, mama. We’ve got this.”

At 3:30am, I was still awake. Watching Skylar sleep. Her tiny hand rested near her face, lips parted, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. She made a soft little sound and my heart flipped all over again.

“I see you,” Paige said softly from behind me.

“I’m just watching her.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“She’s so quiet when she sleeps. Like a little angel.”

“You’re also an angel,” she murmured, gently pulling me away. “A tired one. Back in bed, baby.”

Azzi was already fluffing pillows.

“Okay, okay,” I sighed as I climbed in. “But if she cries—”

“She won’t,” Paige whispered, kissing my forehead. “And if she does, we got her.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

That night, wrapped up between them, I felt everything hit at once—the exhaustion, the soreness, the overwhelming love. Not just for Skylar. But for Paige and Azzi. For the home we’d made. For this messy, sacred, beautiful little beginning.

Skylar stirred softly in her bassinet.

Azzi’s hand found mine in the dark.

Paige pressed her cheek against my temple.

And I whispered, “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[mommyameliestorycorner]

a boys world: Steve 2

Miss Amanda reached into her bag with a knowing smirk, the rustling of plastic and crinkles filling the quiet air. Steve sat frozen on the bed, legs clenched together, his face burning hot as he clutched his teddy close. His big boy pants were gone. Stripped away. And now…

Now Miss Amanda was taking something out.

Mommy tilted her head curiously, watching as her guest pulled out a thick, pristine white nappy, unfolding it with a flick of her wrist. The soft padding billowed open, its thickness unmistakable as Miss Amanda smoothed her hands over the surface, inspecting it.

“I always bring my favorites for first-timers,” she mused, giving the padding an approving squeeze. “So absorbent. So thick. And of course, soft as can be.”

Mommy reached out, her fingers brushing against the inside. A little hum of interest escaped her lips. “Oh, it is soft,” she said, pressing it between her hands, rubbing the material together. “No wonder so many boys end up loving these.”

Miss Amanda chuckled knowingly. “Oh, they don’t have a say in it,” she said smoothly, lifting the nappy toward Mommy. “But yes, once they’ve been properly trained, they do become quite … infatuated wit them. No more silly big boy thoughts. No more peepee on the toilet seat. Just softness and security, right where they belong.”

Mommy took the nappy, holding it up in both hands. It looked so big. Steve swallowed hard, his stomach twisting as he watched her inspect it.

She ran a finger along the waistband, then traced the little leak guards with interest before smiling. “And it’s adorable, too,” she cooed. “I bet my Stevie will look just precious in this.”

Steve whimpered softly, shrinking in on himself.

Mommy turned to him, still holding the nappy in her hands. “What do you think, baby?” she asked sweetly, stepping closer. “It’s so nice, isn’t it? So much better than those silly big boy pants.”

Steve opened his mouth. He should say something. He should protest. He should shake his head and tell her no.

But instead, he just sat there, clutching his teddy, lips trembling slightly as his eyes flickered between Mommy’s expectant gaze and the thick padding she now held up for him.

Miss Amanda chuckled.

“Well, well,” she purred, amusement lacing her voice. “He’s trained quite well already.”

Mommy blinked at her. “Oh?”

Miss Amanda nodded, smirking as she gave Steve a knowing look. “Most boys… well, they get stiffies when they’re undressed,” she explained smoothly. “I can’t tell you how many boys I’ve had to correct.”

Mommy hummed, glancing down at Steve, who immediately turned redder, squeezing his teddy tighter. “Oh no,” she cooed, stroking his hair. “My little Stevie doesn’t have those problems.”

Miss Amanda raised a brow. “Oh?”

Mommy giggled, running her fingers down Steve’s cheek. “He’s so well-behaved, aren’t you, baby?” she murmured, her voice dripping with praise. “He doesn’t get those silly things anymore.”

Miss Amanda’s smirk widened. “Impressive,” she mused, giving Mommy an approving nod. “You’ve done such a good job with him.”

Mommy beamed. “Thank you,” she said sweetly, before turning back to Steve. “Now, sweetheart…” She lifted the nappy again, gently tapping it against his knee.

“Let’s get you all nice and snug, hmm?”

Steve whimpered, but he didn’t fight.

He just clutched his teddy tighter…

As Mommy unfolded the nappy in her hands.

[poetwon]

when they realize they’re in love ─── ᘛ ot7 ╱

── ⟢ ˙ ̟ cause when you know, you know . . .

pairing. ot7!enha x reader ꔛ synopsis. random small moments in which your bf realizes he's in love with you ∿ genre. lots and lots of fluff , established relationships , kissing , mentions of marriage , parenthood , crying ໒ྀི wc. 2.3k 𖥔 nae’s notes. thank u sm for the support on my first fic! i hope u like these ones as well >.< ᭥ more !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ᯓ lee heeseung

you and heeseung both shared a love for singing. one of your favorite things to do was go to private karaoke rooms with your friends. this is where the two of you currently were, jake and sunoo had joined him, your friends joining you as well. you sat criss-crossed on the couch in your socks, you grabbed a mic ready for your turn to sing with one of your friends.

sometimes singing with your friends had always brought you to a fit of laughter given that they couldn't even carry on tune. but your current favorite song "only" by lee hi played through the speakers so you were focused.

heeseung sat next to you, his right hand was on your lower back, rubbing it in circles as you sway back and forth, humming along to the lyrics. the song itself was already a beautiful ballad about love but something about you singing it put heeseung in a trance. he watched you, the emotions splayed on your face, you looked over at him after feeling his eyes burning into you and smiled.

he smiled back at you, pupils dilating while his ears rang with your angelic voice. heeseung already knew he loved you, but this was the moment he realized he loved you. almost as if your voice has some type of power, he couldn't rip his eyes from you even if the world was on fire.

the song finished, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in, kissing your forehead. "that was really beautiful baby" he mumbled against your skin, completely pulling you in, allowing you to lay on his chest.

ᯓ park jongseong

you and jay stood in the grocery line, he stood behind the grocery cart, both hands gripping onto the handle. while you were clung to his arm, squishing your cheek against it. you had just finished shopping for dinner that jay was going to cook for you two. even though he likes doing everything for you, you preferred tagging along when he would go places.

the two of you stood silently, watching all the people around you and listening to their banter.

you looked in front of you when the woman had moved out of the way to load groceries onto the conveyor belt, when a baby came into view. you immediately lit up with a smile, you always loved babies and the thought of having one on your own. the child smiled back at you 'hi there" you spoke softly catching jay's attention.

he looked at you then the baby, you were waving at the child earning giggles from them. jay started smiling at the sound and at the sight of you when you started to play peekaboo. the mom eventually noticed and acknowledged you, "she's adorable!" you say. "thank you" the mom smiled before she started pushing the cart away.

"bye bye" you waved at the baby and your hand found its way over your heart. "oh my god she was so precious" you pouted. "yeah" jay grinned, something about the interaction made jay melt. it's been known that he hopes to become a dad one day and suddenly seeing you adore babies how you did made him feel some kind of stronger and deeper love and admiration for you.

ᯓ jake sim

you had never attended a wedding before, so you were very excited to be a plus one to jake's cousin's wedding. you wore a long flowy baby pink dress to match the wedding's theme which jake couldn't shut up about. it felt like every five minutes he would take your hand, twirl you around and kiss you. "you are so gorgeous baby" he would mumble against you, making you giggle.

its true what they say about weddings, how love is literally in the air. you got along well with jake's family which was very important to both of you. it was a lot of fun too, you found yourself getting emotional multiple times, during the vows, the speeches and even just looking at jake made you emotional.

you couldn't tell because he is known for hiding his emotions but jake was feeling the same exact way, maybe even stronger. he has never really talked about marriage to you, he didn't want to scare you but he constantly imagined you in his future. but he hadn't even told you that he loved you yet, but that's because he hasn't realized that he loves you... not until today at least.

speeches were over, the two of you shared a meal with his parents and his brother. jake stood up fixing his suit, holding out his hand. he cleared his throat and you looked up, he had he biggest grin on his face. "may you do me the honors, y/n?" he joked, making you giggle. "i thought you'd never ask handsome" you hand lands in his and he pulls you up, guiding you to the dance floor where multiple couples were dancing.

you realized that you have never even slow-danced together before, you had no idea how intimate it was, mainly because of the closeness. there was music ringing in your ears but the two of you were silent. you laid your head on his shoulder, eyes closed, taking in the moment. you raised your head to meet his eyes, you held the contact for so long you felt like the only two people in the world.

"you know, i hope to get married one day" jake blurted. his comment caught you off guard but you couldn't help but smile, you felt heat rising on your cheeks. "yeah?" you ask. "me too." jake bit his lip, fighting back a smile. you didn't really have to say much, the moment alone helped the both of you realize what you felt. now you just had to see who would say it first.

ᯓ park sunghoon

while on vacation with friends, sunghoon constantly nagged about fishing. he continually watched youtube videos of people fishing and was determined to catch something before leaving. eventually you and ni-ki finally agreed to join him and try for the final day.

the three of you spread across the river, constantly casting out and reeling in. one hour felt like three so ni-ki ended up giving up and leaving. you started to feel bad for sunghoon, he got a bite but it stole the bait and that really annoyed him. you had gotten nothing, you have yet to even see a fish.

you can tell sunghoon was growing impatient when he started walking closer to the rocks. "sunghoon! where are you going?" you yell out, starting to follow. "back to the house, there's no use!" he sulked. you walked up to him, grabbing the sleeve on his shirt and started to pull him. "don't give up yet honey just try one more time!" you insisted.

he sighed, feeling no hope, but only did it because you wanted him to. he casted out his line and waited, there was no movement, nothing. until suddenly something started to tug on the hook. "oh! reel it in, hurry!" you jumped up with excitement holding onto the fishing pole.

he did it, just before giving up he actually caught one. "i told you didn't i? i knew you could do it!" you repeatedly hit his shoulder out of excitement. sunghoon's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and he honestly loved your reaction the most. the grin on his face made you back up, pulling out your phone. "hold it up! smile hoonie!" you snapped a few photos before you helped him take the fish off the hook.

he looked down at you, studying you as you focused. "thank you honey." he whispered softly, you looked up at him and smiled. "of course, i told you that you were getting a fish today didn't i?" you beamed. sunghoon felt such deep appreciation for you differently from the way he felt previously. he figured it was just excitement but deep down he knew exactly what this was.

ᯓ kim sunoo

it was mandatory that no matter what at least once a week you and sunoo spent time watching a drama together. even if his schedule was busy-- the two of you would end up on the couch watching tv with one another.

that's exactly where you were at the moment, there's a lot of room on the couch but you two had to be squished together. sunoo sat leaned against the arm of the couch, you snuggled underneath his left arm, head on his chest.

the show was at a point where it was making you and sunoo feel extremely emotional. its one of those where love gets built up over time but last minute it comes crashing down and they cannot be with one another depending on the circumstances.

being under your boyfriends arm, feeling his heartbeat and knowing he was probably feeling the emotions too, you couldn't help but start tearing up. but sunoo was doing the same, it was making him feel sentimental. his eyes filled with salty tears, he reached up to pat them off of his face as they fell.

he felt his heart breaking and it isn't even real! except it felt real in a way, he started to imagine what if this were the two of you, what if it was sunoo that was losing you. he accidentally let a hiccup slip which caught your attention, causing you to look up at him. his face was covered in tears, worse than yours.

"aw my love" you coo at him, reaching up to wipe his tears. he smiles, due to embarrassment. your hand rest on his face, thumb circling slowly, his grip around you tightened as he took a deep breath. "i know, but its just a show, its okay!" he shook his head. "no- it's not just that." he sniffled. "i think-" he stopped himself. "you think what?".

ᯓ yang jungwon

you and jungwon have been music bank mc's for a few months now. you got along very well, your personalities even matched. everyone loved the two of you being mc's together. like per usual many fans shipped the two of you together, or some sent you hate for it. either way it didn't go unnoticed by either of you, especially since you actually did end up in a relationship.

one day when mindlessly scrolling on tiktok, jungwon got a video of the two of you on his fyp. it was a cute compilation of jungwon staring at you for long amounts of time. as he watched he questioned "do i really do that?" he blushed, surely wasn't admiring you like that on live television all the time right?

this was obviously wrong, because the next week, you were hosting together like any other week. you held your queue cards in your hand, looking from the cards to the camera and even to jungwon. he nodded along while listening but when you turned to him while talking he did the same simultaneously, but when you turned back away he didn't.

it was the same thing he literally a few days ago just watched himself do multiple times. he stared as your lips move, he admired your nose, the way your hair sat neatly styled. you smile and looked back at him and he smiles too. only then he noticed it was his turn to speak, he snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat to speak.

after the show in the hallway you walked up to him "are you okay won? you seemed kinda out of it earlier." he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed "oh yeah I'm just really tired for some reason today thank you honey." you nodded and smiled before being called to your dressing room by your manager.

he stopped you by grabbing your wrist and stepped closer so nobody in nearby rooms could hear. "can we get dinner later?" he prompted. you smiled, quickly nodding before turning back around before you were to be scolded. he watched as you walked away, he felt the giddy emotions deep is his chest, he couldn't go another day without telling you what he now knew he felt.

ᯓ nishimura riki

ni-ki was hands down one of the best dancers you knew and your boyfriend. so when you wanted to learn a tiktok dance he did you didn't hesitate to go to him. "you don't have to if you don't have time but i'm way better at learning a dance if i'm taught." you said, asking him for his time. ni-ki was actually excited and nodded "of course baby, you know I will always make time for you" he winked

and so you did just that, meeting him in a practice room and immediately got started. ni-ki never taught a tiktok dance like this before, but he started questioning why he never did. you weren't a bad dancer yourself but you were just a really fun time all around. finding everything amusing and constantly making jokes.

he was genuinely having fun blast with you. "okay now kinda act like you're stumbling back but the step forward again" he demonstrates the footwork, when you go to do the same movements you end up actually stumbling backwards. ni-ki quickly lunges forward and stops you, hooking his arms under yours.

you were merely inches from completely landing on your ass, probably harming yourself. you gasped from fear and then the two of you made eye contact in the mirror and then busted into a fit of giggles. ni-ki sat you down, arms going weak from laughing. the contagious laughter grew louder as you literally rolled around the floor.

ni-ki reached out for your hands to help you stand up "uhg i'm sorry, i don't know what the hell that was." ni-ki looked down at you as you stood close. he fixed your hair that ended up messy, he placed his hands on the side of your face. "don't worry about it baby it was cute" your eye contact lingered for a moment, a glimmer in your eyes as you blushed. ni-ki felt an urge to say it, that he loved you. he held his tongue but how long he could do that for, probably not very.

.　˚　༺̲̅ 𓊆ྀི@poetwon𓊇ྀི ༻̲̅　˚　. 　 ꙳

[honeyshiddendesire]

Monster Trio + Shared Kinks

⛔️ Warnings: Dom/Sub ! Rough Play! Degradation! Dacryphilia! 69 Position! Oral(male & female receiving)! Dirty talk! Kinky Shit! Pet names! Luffy calls you mami! (Cause I said so 🤤😩) foursome! Consensual Sex!

*Author’s Note: So happy when I find stuff from my old blog lol so I’m reposting it lol 

*masterlist*

Oral Fixation + 69 Position

Luffy could spend hours eating both food and you, no doubts about it. The man is the type to eat your pussy while kicking his feet in the air. Smiling, giggling while his tongue work has brought you to orgasm like three times and that man will just munch away. Gets impatient though for his pleasure so he loves the 69 position which he definitely learned from Sanji. Favorite position just like the rest of the monster trio! Luffy loves both of you coming together, both your moans mixing like a beautiful song of the sea.

Zoro’s oral fixation clearly gets cured during battle with his three sword style and after when he downs a bottle of sake sloppily. But at night he cures his need with you above him, pussy in his mouth. Yours wrapped around his dark veiny cock choking perfectly on his girth. 69 gives him the opportunity to spank you and thrust up into your tight throat.  He’s an ass eater idc 🤷‍♀️lol everyone headcanons him an ass man so ima take it a step further saying he’ll wanna eat that ass too. Zoro sees the whole ordeal as further jaw/mouth training for his sword style don’t fight me on this lol 

Sanji also has an oral fix similar to Luffy, for his love of the culinary arts. Your juices are the most exquisite he’s ever had the privilege of tasting, no matter the ingredients he’ll never be able to create such a perfect blend. Whether your natural flavor is musky, floral, tangy or tart, he always finishes his meal. Asking for seconds with sweet words that have both sets of your lips dripping. Sanji, like the rest of the trio has a liking for the 69 position. Not particularly his favorite all the time but there are exceptions. Unlike the others he only uses this position as a form of punishment. Using reverse 69 to thrust into your bratty throat, but never being too cruel to not please you as well.

✨These men just can’t get enough of your precious honey ✨

Dacryphilia

This kink is shared amongst the monster trio for the same reason. They love having you cry for their cocks. Your psyche so fucked out that it glitches and cries out in the pure bliss that they’re giving to you. Tears of pleasure only they get to see always has them cumming faster than they’d like. They just loved seeing those cute tears that came from pleasure and no pain. Beautiful is how you looked to them in those moments. “Dick’s got you crying so pretty-huh Mami?” Luffy’s grin was always so bright it made your eyes hurt even while his cock stretched inside of you. His added thrusts to the stretch made you cry tears of ecstasy that had him shiver in delight. “Awe look at my pretty little slut cryin from how good I’m fucking her.” Zoro would mock with an iron grip to your jaw forcing your teary eyed gaze to look at him. His hips moved with a force that left you too drunk to answer as he sent you both to another wonderful orgasm. “Oh sweetheart don’t cry~ I’ll kiss that pussy and make it all better for you.” Sanji would surprisingly taunt with a pout at your cute tears, pretending your pleasure was pain just for the excuse to make his baby come again. But in no way we’re you complaining as those blonde locks dipped back to your honey pot.

✨Seeing you cry has never been so sweet till you did it around their cock ✨

Sharing is Caring

No matter what Zoro and Sanji might make people believe I feel like they would share a partner. Purely for competitive purposes though, wanting to see who has you coming the best and the fastest. Begging and whimpering as both their cocks worked your poor little holes. Cunt and ass stuffed as they argued back and forth. Bickering so loud it wakes Luffy who no doubt sees the fun and joins in. Cause what Luffy wants Luffy gets, even if that means taking what belongs to the arguing duo. Now you had all possible holes filled for the monster trio to feast upon. Battling to see who gave you the best orgasm of your life. But being a brat who didn’t want the fun to end, you’d say none of them just so they’d want to go again.

✨ With you in the middle of it all, again they would bring you more pleasure until the winner was decided✨

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon hadn’t been this nervous since his baby girl was born nearly two years ago now. His palms were sweating as he glanced over at his daughter, who was waiting with excitement by the window.

���Are you okay, Si?” You asked, flashing your husband a warm smile, before wiping down the kitchen table for the fifth time that afternoon. “You seem nervous.”

“Think we both are.” Simon gave you a half smile, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of his precious family. “Just nervous for the boys to finally meet my girls.”

You walked over to him, and were about to press a reassuring kiss to his lips before the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of your guests.

Your daughter squealed with excitement, and ran to open the door, her little arms barely able to reach the handle. “Daddy! They’re here!”

The door swung open revealing the 141 boys, each of them wearing matching smiles. Your daughter beamed up at them, and each of the men noted how similar she looked to her father.

The boys filed in, and it took all of a few seconds before your daughter was chatting away, clearly very excited to be meeting her daddy’s friends.

She had Johnny and Kyle’s full attention, showing them her newest collection of toys her daddy bought her, while John made his way over to you.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Riley.” John smiled, politely pressing a kiss to your cheek. He extended his hands to you, revealing a bouquet of flowers. “I would’ve insisted on meeting you sooner, but your husband has done an impeccable job of keeping you and the little one a secret from us.”

Simon wore a proud smile as he watched the encounter, suddenly very much liking you being referred to as “Mrs. Riley”. “For good reason, didn’t want to put them at risk.”

“Nonsense, Simon. I’m so happy to meet all of you. It’s about time I’ve met the men who my husband trusts with his life.” You waived away your husband’s concerns, prompting John to chuckle. “I’m glad you all could make it tonight. These flowers are beautiful by the way, thank you!”

Johnny and Kyle eventually made their way over, each of them greeting you with bone crushing hugs.

“Daddy! Uncle Johnny said that he’d babysit me one day!” Your daughter exclaimed, moving to hang onto Johnnys leg tightly.

“Did he now?” Simon asked, quirking a brow as he looked in Johnnys direction. “Uncle Johnny, eh?”

“Thought it was fitting, no?” Johnny laughed, petting your daughter’s head playfully. “Gotta say, L.T, she’s a spitting image of you.”

Simon felt a flush rise to his cheeks, the sentiment causing a warmth to spread through his bones. “I’d say she’s got her mother’s looks.”

When dinner rolled around, your daughter insisted on sitting in between her uncle Johnny and Kyle, relishing in all the stories they could tell her about her daddy.

You took note of the permanent smile etched onto Simon’s lips- though he was relatively quiet you could tell that he was enjoying himself. You only wished you had done this sooner.

As he looked around the room, Simon felt his heart flutter as laughter filled the air. Any nervousness he had felt before was gone, and Simon felt undeniably happy. He had everybody he loved and cared about, finally under one roof.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: not super happy with this one- so planning on doing another version shortly☺️❤️ (ideas are welcome!!)

[starkwlkr]

mum said no | lewis hamilton

an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all

After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.

Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.

On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.

“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.

Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”

“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.

“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”

“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.

“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.

“I like science.” Replied Maeve.

As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.

“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.

“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”

“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.

“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”

You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.

The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.

“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.

“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.

“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.

“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”

“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.

“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”

“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”

“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.

“Yup, and mum said no.”

[cimmanonrowl]

dbf!hotch where you have to be quick n quiet bc your parents are next door, and he's only staying for one night. heavy w the smut and tension 🤭

So It Goes...

It was summer break from University and you were home to spend time with your parents. And maybe Aaron was just as clingy as you because you woke up one morning with him in your room, admiring you in your sleep. And the night you spent together didn’t disappoint either.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, secret relationship, sweet dom!aaron, sneaky, unprotected sex, cowgirl, creampie, gagging, oral (f) receiving.

The soft, feather-like touch on your cheek pulled you from the depths of sleep. The caress was gentle, almost ghostly, yet enough to rouse you even if you were unconscious.

“There she is…” you heard someone say; a familiar deep voice, soft and whispery. “Good morning, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered open, groaning lightly to yourself, while the hazy remnants of sleep gave way to early morning light filtering through your bedroom drapes. Someone’s warm hand still rested lightly on your face, occasionally rubbing your cheek with the back of their fingers. And your heart skipped a beat as you became fully aware of the presence, with the uncanny feeling of being watched.

“Aaron?” you grumbled, confusion threading through your voice. 

Blinking away the blur of sleep, you slowly whipped your head to the side. Only to be greeted by a sight that almost instantly knocked a breath out of your chest.

You rubbed your eyes quickly, half expecting him to vanish, a figment of your frail imagination. But he was still there, smiling softly at you, his eyes crinkling at the very corner. His affectionate gaze narrowed down on your face alone, full of tenderness that melted away any lingering drowsiness in your brain.

“Aaron? W-what— what?”

“Hey…” he murmured, chuckling a little as he saw your baffled reaction, his voice deep and soothing as always. “I’m sorry, I just... I couldn’t wait to see you."

Your heart warmed with a mix of joy and confusion, but also a pang of worry. How did he even manage to sneak into your room, you don’t know. But here he was, tucking the stray strand of hair behind your ear, staring back at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It feels surreal, like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, voice still groggy and croaky from sleep.

You know for sure that you look like a mess. Maybe with a drool at the corner of your mouth, or a trace of sleep in your eyes. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Aaron was looking at you like this, not when all you see is love and longing, not with the fact that your parents must be somewhere downstairs waiting for you both to come down and join them for breakfast.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound of a sweet melody to your ears. “I missed you,” was all he said, as if that explains everything. 

And knowing your boyfriend, maybe it does.

You reached up, your hand covering his on your cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “I missed you too,” you admitted, “But how? Where’s Dad? Mom? How did you get here?”

You kept glancing towards the door after your question, imagining it to burst open at any moment; your father with a rifle in his hands, your mother crying behind him. You shuddered at the image; it was surely exaggerated, and not exactly how you planned for them to know your relationship with Aaron.

“They went out to the local market,” he explained shortly, frowning as he noticed the worry lines on your face. “They’re buying meat and groceries for their anniversary party later. Your Mom told me to get some rest instead of helping them; saw my chance and sneaked in.”

Just with what you heard, relief and excitement coursed through your veins. So you’re here all alone with Aaron, and the house is silent and empty. You can’t help but feel a thrill at the audacity of it all. “We still have to be careful,” you said, although your voice carried a hint of anticipation.

Aaron’s smile turned a bit more mischievous, his fingers tracing a gentle line along your jaw. “I know, princess,” he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Oh?” your eyebrows perked as you picked up the insinuation. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

The smirk on his face grew at the challenge. And his touch lingered, the warmth of his hand spreading through you. His eyes darkened with desire, and you feel a similar heat rising within you.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is not to touch you while you sleep?”

You snorted. “Oh, shut up. Bet I look like a troll.”

“Hey, don’t speak to my girlfriend like that,” he scolded lightheartedly, pinching the side of your stomach. “You always look like an angel.”

You tried hiding your blush with an eye roll.

There he is again with his confessions; sweet, little words dripping like honey in this early morning. With Aaron, those words never felt forced, never felt like an empty expression. Maybe it has to do with the way he says it, or the way he never tore his imploring gaze away from you, or maybe you trust him so much that you willingly listen to everything he says. With no complaints. No doubts.

Aaron leaned in slowly, “I’ve missed you so much, baby. My bed feels empty without you.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Aaron.”

He frowned as if that insulted him, his thick eyebrows tugging together. “Your point being?”

“You’re clingy,” you laughed in amusement, tipping your face away from him, avoiding his lips that kept chasing yours.

A firm grip on your hip stopped you from moving.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, a confused frown still plastered on his face. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“And do I look like I care?”

“Ew,” you scrunched your nose to feign disgust. “Really, love?”

“Sweetheart, I eat my own cum as it drip down your ass. Do you think—”

You slapped both of your palms on your face, groaning at his words. What the hell. You expected a different response. Not these dirty, crude words. Why would he even say that?

“Aaron!”

“What?” he only laughed– he always does, he always enjoyed seeing you blush like a tomato. “It’s true, sweetheart. What do you think will stop me from tasting you?”

Just as he said, it’s true. Nothing has ever stopped him from showing you love and pleasuring you. He’s always got to have his hand on your body, on your waist, on your thighs; his lips on yours, or your skin; his head buried at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and most of the time, in between your legs, eating your cunt.

“Whatever, old man. Come here,” you giggled, pulling his neck, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss. The softness of the contact sent a shiver all over your body, awakening a hunger that has been building up ever since the summer break began.

Aaron’s hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, and deepening the kiss.

The house was wrapped in silence, yet the idea of doing something so illicit and dangerous under your parent’s roof made you tremble in anxiety– or was it pleasure? You don’t know. You can’t seem to know. Not with Aaron’s hand kneading your breasts, not with his lips trailing down to your pulsing cunt.

Your discarded underwear lay forgotten on the floor. And Aaron’s head finally nestled between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet and throbbing pussy. His calloused hands rested firmly on your hips, and the first flick of his tongue against your clit sent shivers rising from the soft surface of your skin.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so good,” Aaron murmured, his voice deep and raspy as he glanced up.

His words crumbled your resolution, with Aaron’s expert lips and tongue moving with a tenderness that bordered on reverence, exploring every inch of your cunt as if he had it all memorized– which he does. Every flick and twirl of his tongue, the vibration of his pleasured groans against your wetness, the desperate pleas that escaped your lips— he knows it all.

“Aaron…” you breathed, your voice trembling in a brimful of desire and need. “Don’t stop.”

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling through the soft strands as you guided him closer, deeper. You bucked your hips abstractedly, creating an even more delicious friction. It was all overwhelming, full of ecstasy after two weeks of spending time away from each other. Aaron’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, watching you fall into pieces, a drunk look present in his eyes.

“I won’t, angel...” he promised. “I want you to feel everything.”

The secrecy almost felt sacred. The early morning light painted everything in a soft, dreamy glow, blurring the lines between your reality and both of your desires.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before slowly prodding them inside of your wet, dripping cunt. Aaron took your heavy moan and the satisfaction in your face as a signal to assault your pussy just the way he knows you like it, reaching spots that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

“God, I missed this… missed you...” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you felt your orgasm rising, building fast and deliberately. “A-Aaron… faster… please…”

The firmness of his touch, his caresses, his very presence; as the sensations built within you, you knew nothing could ever make you give up this moment.

All the while, his eyes held yours, tender and full of desire. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice even softer as he said, “I’ll give you everything.”

The heavy smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filled the air as you stepped into the garden, wearing only a short, breezy dress that fluttered around your thighs with each step. The barbecue party is in full swing, with your family and some other neighbors gathered around, chatting and enjoying the warm afternoon. Your parents are busy at the grill, flipping burgers and ribs, chatting with each other, and laughing.

You quickly scanned the garden and spotted Aaron. He’s engaged in conversation with a small crowd of men, but as if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes quickly found yours. A warm, secretive smile spreads across his face, sending a flutter through your chest.

As you move through the crowd, greeting some of your neighbors and grabbing a plate of food, you can’t help but feel Aaron’s eyes on you. Oh, you knew that his eyes were on you. The dress you chose wasn’t just for comfort in the summer heat; it was an attempt to catch his attention, to feel his gaze, to make sure he was on the tip of his toes.

You found a seat at one of the picnic tables under the shade of an old tree. Aaron casually made his way over, each of his steps languid, his movements seemingly unhurried. And when he took the seat across from you, his leg brushed against yours under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Everything looks delicious,” you tried keeping your voice steady, your eyes flicking to his with a knowing look. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Hmm…” he nodded, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. His foot nudges yours playfully, hidden from the view of the others.

“Stop,” you chuckled, shaking your head at his childishness.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks. I know.”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. “How cocky.”

Throughout the small gathering, the two of you stole clandestine glances. There isn’t a moment where you felt Aaron wasn’t paying attention to you. Occasionally, Aaron’s hand would graze yours when reaching for the salad bowl or the pitcher of lemonade, each touch brief and only for a lingering moment.

At one point, you excused yourself to grab yourself a drink. As you walked past by Aaron, you felt his hand subtly brush the small of your back, a fleeting touch that sent a thrill through your pulsing cunt. You can feel your underwear slowly getting soaked in anticipation for tonight, as you already know he’s staying.

You glanced over your shoulder and met his eyes, and saw the same spark of desire mirroring in there.

The afternoon crawled excruciatingly slow, and as the sun began to set, the sky a pale hue of salmon and lilac, the guests started to gather around the fire pit. You took a seat on a wooden bench, with Aaron joining you shortly after. 

He sat beside you.

A bold move.

You became hyperaware of everything: the closeness of his body next to yours, the occasional brush of his hairy arm, the deep rumble of his laughter as he chimed in the conversations of others. Nobody seemed to mind why Aaron chose to sit beside you of all places. Nobody even batted an eye. But for some reason, it made your toes tingle in anxiety.

Your parents are nearby, laughing and sharing stories with their other friends, blissfully unaware of the castle of dirty thoughts you built in honor of your father’s dear best friend. God, it feels so wrong. But you’d let the whole world crumble to dust than let go of this feeling.

As the sky darkened, you found a moment when the two of you were left alone. Aaron leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for your ears.

“You okay, baby? You’re quiet,” he observed, his eyes scanning your face with worry.

“I’m fine...” a shy smile played on your lips. “Enough with the beer now, please. You look red.”

A smile rose on his lips as he nodded, setting down the half-finished bottle on the ground to follow your order. When his attention landed on you again, you mirrored the smile tugging on his lips.

His hand found yours under the bench, fingers intertwining in a gesture that’s both innocent and intimate. “I wish we could be together openly,” he whispered, his thumb gently rubbing soft circles on your knuckles.

“Someday, yeah?” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. “Are you tired of this?”

“No, Jesus Christ,” he whispered, almost to himself, voice quiet and absentminded. “But it reminds me you’re graduating in a few months.”

“Right, can’t wait to escape that hell.”

Aaron snorted, throwing you a glance. “You wanted to enter law school, remember?”

“Because I wanted to impress my now boyfriend, remember?”

His eyes softened, and you could see amusement and affection filtering through them. “You didn’t have to impress me, baby, you’ve got me at the palm of your hand,” was what he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The party went on until the evening. The faint sounds of the gathering still lingered in your mind— all the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the stolen glances between you and Aaron. Your heart fluttered as you recalled his eyes meeting yours across the crowded yard, his piercing eyes observing you from afar.

You laid in bed, feeling your pulse quicken as you waited, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Then, you heard it— a gentle knock on your door. 

You rose quietly, wincing at the sound of your bedsheet rustling upon your movements. In quick strides, you crossed the room and swung the door carefully, so softly, until there he was again. In front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered, a smile spreading across your face. “Come in.”

Aaron locked the door behind him, and the room felt suddenly warmer, his presence filling the space with a palpable energy. You stepped closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What a torture...” Aaron murmured lazily, his lips brushing against your ear. “Wanted to be near you every second.”

“Huh,” you said teasingly, poking the side of his ribs. “And you dare say I’m the clingy one in this relationship?”

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense. The heat made you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss, letting yourself lose your mind in his warmth and touch.

Aaron’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

���Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“Oh, please, baby. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He led you to the bed with guided steps. Aaron’s touch was tender, the fingers trailing over your skin made your heart ache, and your cunt pulse in hot desire.

You looked into his eyes, finding a reflection of your own need. His gaze was affectionate yet filled with an intensity that made blood rush to your cheeks.

“Need you...” your voice was barely audible in the stillness. “Fuck me good, baby.”

He smiled, a slow, intimate curve of his lips that made you catch your breath. “With your parents next door? Sound dangerous…” he replied softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

You could feel the tension of the day melting away. Aaron’s hands moved slowly as if he was savoring every moment, every touch. He kissed a trail from your lips to your jaw, and down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin, leaving a wet path in its wake.

As his kisses grew more insistent, you felt a wildfire ignite within you, the desire that had simmered all day finally threatening to spill. You pulled him closer, even more closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss with a pace that matched his own.

While Aaron’s hands roamed around your body with such possessiveness, the only sounds in your room were the soft rustle of sheets and your quiet whining. He explored every inch of your skin with a silent plan to conquer. To take. To remind you how you and your body are his and his alone.

“Be quiet, little girl, or I’ll gag you,” his eyes darkened with warning. “Can’t have your parents know their good girl is a dirty slut, can we?” he mumbled hotly in your ears.

“Y-yes, sir...”

You lifted your hips as you felt his hands playing with the waistband of your underwear. And you couldn’t do anything when he said “Open up wide,” and slipped the crumpled fabric of your soaked underwear inside your mouth.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, hm?” he whispered again, his voice soft yet taunting.

And you could only nod because your words were caught right in your throat. Literally.

Aaron moved swiftly and with urgency this time, as he was aware of the risk of what you were doing. It was exhilarating; sharing this secret, him forcing you to keep quiet— you’ve never been quiet, not when his big, girthy cock stretched you wide, ramming in and out of your tight pussy.

“Fuck, baby, so warm…” Aaron grumbled lowly, biting on his hand as you sank deeper into his cock.

You kneaded on your tits, rubbed your nipples as you stared back at Aaron, lowering yourself to ride his hard cock. A low whimper rumbled in your chest as you felt the burn of the stretch, your moans muffled by the fabric serving as your gag for tonight.

“That’s it, angel, move your hips like that. Fuck,” Aaron closed his eyes as he felt your cunt tighten with your slow movements. “Fucking hell, baby. You’ll kill me one day.”

You started bouncing on his cock in no time, fast and hard, feeling his hands on your thighs tighten in restraint. Your air flow was restricted by the gag on your mouth, making you breathe heavily, noisily, accompanied by the quiet flapping of sweaty skin and Aaron’s pleasured grunts.

“Fuck. Fucking hell, angel…” he groaned as he spread his knees and started fucking into you.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as he prodded the spots only he could reach. With bleary eyes, you watched how Aaron bit his lower lip and how his hips fucked into you with vigor, with the same need, struggling so hard to contain his noises.

Your eyes lingered on the solid plains of his hairy chest and rested your palm on the soft surface of his stomach, moving your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. Warm tears streamed down your cheeks with pleasure, with the nagging voice at the back of your head warning you not to make a mistake. To be quiet. To not ruin the moment.

Yet it’s all too much.

“You’re doing good for me, baby. You’re so gorgeous…” Aaron cooed as he noticed your tears. “You’re so tight. Fuck, you’re close already?”

You nodded dumbly, too fucked to even understand everything he just said.

“Go on then. Cum for me, baby,” Aaron smiled, slapping your thighs lightly. “That’s it, good girl. Ride my cock like that. Fucking hell, what a slut.”

You tried warning him. You wanted to tell him you’re close. To go faster. Harder. To let you come. To give you everything. To beg. But your quiet pleas were muffled, leaving a deep rumble of amused laughter on Aaron’s chest.

“What’s that, slut? Can’t hear you,” he taunted softly. “What do you think your parents would think if they saw you like this, hmm?”

You whined and whimpered as your thighs burned from the effort, finally letting Aaron take the control.

“I’m so close, baby... fuck, feels so good...” he too was breathing heavily. “Come for me, come on. Good girl. Tighten the cunt even more– like that, fuck!”

White hot pleasure blurred your vision as you felt your orgasm coursed through you. You felt Aaron tremble beneath your body, his hot load flooding your insides, his warm hand exploring your sweaty skin with a devotion that left you breathless.

“My jaw hurts…” you pouted as he gently took out the fabric on your mouth and tucked your face in the crook of his neck. “I love it, though.”

Aaron chuckled at your whiny voice. “I know it’s wrong but that’s so hot, darling.”

“I know…” you giggled weakly, feeling the palm of his hands roam at the surface of your back. “Can we do it again? I wanna... ride your stomach. Please, sir, can I? Didn’t you say I’m your good girl?”

Sorry for the long wait but thank you to Anon who requested this! As always, your replies, reblogs, and reactions are very much appreciated. See you on the next ones!

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[coriihanniee]

WHEN YOU CRY OVER YOUR PET જ⁀➴

۶ৎ PAIRING : boynextdoor x gn!reader ۶ৎ GENRE(S) : established relationship, fluff, hurt, comfort ۶ৎ WARNING(S) : mentions of pet death/grief, emotional distress/crying, heavy emotional comfort from the boys, reader is overwhelmed, author got carried away at Leehan's (heh...) ۶ৎ WORD COUNT : 0.4k - 0.7k words

۶ৎ A/N : This was a request from my lovely @reibelhearts ! I hope this headcanon fic gives you the much needed comfort that you need! 💕 I understand how it feels to lose a beloved pet so I was more than willing to write this! To all our furry 🐶🐱 (and fishy 🐟 or feathery 🕊) friends who have crossed the bridge, you are so, so loved! 🫶

SUNGHO₍^. .^₎⟆

۶ৎ you didn’t mean to cry in front of him.

۶ৎ he’s been so busy lately—filming, rehearsals, barely getting enough sleep.

۶ৎ you kept it to yourself, thinking, "he doesn’t need to worry about this too."

۶ৎ you told yourself you'd be fine...

۶ৎ but when Sungho walks through the door, gym bag still slung over his shoulder, and asks, “Hey, baby. Have you eaten yet?”—something in you just breaks.

۶ৎ the way your face crumples and you look away too quickly. The way your voice doesn’t even make it out. He freezes.

۶ৎ “Wait—what’s wrong?”

۶ৎ you try to shake your head, but it’s too late. You’re already crying, and you can’t stop.

۶ৎ his bag hits the floor. He’s at your side in two seconds flat, kneeling down like you’re something precious he’s scared to touch too roughly.

۶ৎ you choke out the words. “They’re gone.” And he understands immediately.

۶ৎ “Oh… babe.” His voice is so soft. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

۶ৎ you just shake your head. “You’ve been so busy. I didn’t want to ruin your mood or mess things up for you—”

۶ৎ “You’re never ruining anything,” he cuts in, already pulling you into his arms. “You’re my person. If something hurts you, it matters.”

۶ৎ holds you close until your shoulders stop shaking. One arm around your back, one hand stroking your hair like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

۶ৎ Simba the cat slinks in slowly, drawn by the stillness. He pauses, sniffs the air like he’s picking up on your sadness, then hops into your lap without hesitation. Settles in. Purrs.

۶ৎ Sungho glances down. “He’s doing that thing again where he pretends he’s not affectionate, but he is.”

۶ৎ you sniffle, laughing a little through your tears. “Yeah… I can tell.”

۶ৎ he leaves for a bit and comes back with your favourite drink, a warm snack, and a tiny plushie that vaguely resembles your pet. “Simba helped me pick it out. I mean, he stared at it for three seconds, which I’m taking as a sign.”

۶ৎ you don't have to ask him to stay. He already is. Sitting cross-legged next to you, blanket pulled over both your legs, one hand resting gently on your knee. Just enough to remind you he’s there.

۶ৎ “You loved them really well,” he says after a long silence. “That’s why this hurts so much. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

۶ৎ Simba curls up against your leg again, tail flicking lightly. Sungho adjusts your blanket. Then again. Then a third time for good measure.

۶ৎ you don’t say anything about it, just lean your head on his shoulder.

۶ৎ later, when you fall asleep mid-tears, you stir just enough to hear him whisper :

۶ৎ “I’m so sorry, love. You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

RIWOO ʢ·͡ᴥ·ʡ

۶ৎ you’d been texting him normally. Maybe quieter than usual, but nothing that would set off alarms. 

۶ৎ he was busy anyways—schedules, fan signs, a music show later that night. You didn’t want to weigh him down.

۶ৎ but something about your last message sits weird with him.

 ۶ৎ just a “hope rehearsal goes well” and a photo of your pet’s collar, sitting alone on the table.

۶ৎ Riwoo doesn’t reply right away, but he does show up at your doorstep unannounced. 

۶ৎ he knocks gently. Doesn’t say a word when you open the door with tear-swollen eyes and a barely functioning voice. Just holds out his arms, like of course he already knew.

۶ৎ when you finally manage to whisper, “I didn’t want to bother you,” he just sighs into your shoulder.

۶ৎ “You didn’t,” he murmurs. “I just… I know that look.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t flood you with questions or try to say anything deep. Instead, he walks into your apartment like it’s muscle memory, sets a plastic bag on the table, and pulls out your favourite drink and a weirdly cute rice ball shaped like a dog. 

۶ৎ “Not gonna lie,” he says quietly, “I panicked and just bought everything dog-shaped.”

۶ৎ you try to laugh and end up crying again instead. He doesn't flinch. Just lets you sob into his sleeve, gently rubbing your back in slow, grounding circles.

۶ৎ that evening, just when you think he’s about to leave, he kneels down by the front door and starts undoing a carrier bag. You blink. “Riwoo…?”

۶ৎ out pops Daebak—tail wagging, tongue out, already sniffing around your living room like he lives there.

۶ৎ “I figured,” Riwoo says, brushing invisible fur off his hoodie, “you might be too lonely tonight.”

 ۶ৎ he hands you a leash. “He’s loud. And dramatic. But he’s got good taste in people.”

۶ৎ you blink back another round of tears. “You’re letting me borrow your dog?”

 ۶ৎ “Just for tonight. Unless you need him longer. Then it’s... a long-term lease.”

۶ৎ the next few hours are quiet in the best way. You and Daebak curled on the couch, and Riwoo beside you with a portable speaker softly playing some lo-fi music.

۶ৎ he doesn’t ask you to talk about your pet unless you bring it up. When you do, his eyes don’t leave your face the entire time. He listens like he’s trying to memorize the way you describe them. 

۶ৎ “They sounded loyal,” he says eventually. “Like the kind of pet who’d follow you into hell and back.”

۶ৎ you nod. “They were.”

۶ৎ before he leaves, he sets down a Tupperware box. “Jjangyi’s food. Daebak’s picky.”

۶ৎ “Wait,” you say, panicking a little, “what if he misses you tonight?”

۶ৎ Riwoo shrugs. “He’s sleeping on your foot like he’s known you forever. I think he’s fine.”

۶ৎ and then, just as he’s pulling on his hoodie to head out, he turns back and says in that low, soft voice :

۶ৎ “I can’t bring them back… but I’ll come by tomorrow. With Jjangyi. So Daebak doesn’t get too smug.”

JAEHYUN ૮��• ᴥ •⍝ა

۶ৎ you didn’t want to tell him. He was already juggling a comeback, dance practices, and three unfinished voice notes he said he’d send “soon, I swear!!”

۶ৎ so you kept it to yourself. Until he dropped by after rehearsal—hair damp, hoodie sleeves rolled up, ranting about Woonhak eating his chicken.

۶ৎ “Can you believe him? He said I was chewing too loud. Too loud, babe. Am I supposed to chew silently now—hey, wait…”

۶ৎ he finally notices your red-rimmed eyes. Your silence. The way your lip trembles when you try to smile and say, “I’m fine.”

۶ৎ “You’re not,” he blurts, panic creeping into his voice. “You’re so not—what happened? Did someone say something? Did you get hurt? Did I do something?!”

۶ৎ you try to explain through broken words. That your pet passed away. That you didn’t want to tell him because he seemed happy and busy and you didn’t want to ruin that.

۶ৎ “Ruin—?” He looks offended. “RUIN?! Babe, if you stubbed your toe I’d cancel the whole schedule.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t try to cover up how crushed he looks.

۶ৎ “Oh no,” he whispers. “I know how much you loved them. I used to greet them when I walked in like they paid rent.”

۶ৎ pulls you into his chest, his grip tight and warm. He lets you cry, no rushing, no awkward patting—just firm, sweet comfort. Keeps whispering the same words over and over.

۶ৎ “You did your best. You loved them so well. They were so lucky to have you.”

۶ৎ later, once you’re curled up together on the couch, tissues everywhere, he suddenly looks very serious.

۶ৎ “Listen… I know nothing could ever replace them. And I’m not trying to—but like…” He reaches for his phone, pulling up a poorly lit screenshot of a baby hamster.

۶ৎ “What if… just what if… we get a little guy. Not to replace them. Just to give your heart something soft again. I’ll take care of it too!! I’ll feed it kale and whisper affirmations.”

۶ৎ you stare at him. “You want to get a hamster?”

۶ৎ “OUR hamster,” he corrects. “Joint custody. I’ll name it something cool like… Biscuit. Or President Cheeks.”

۶ৎ “…Jaehyun.”

۶ৎ “No no hear me out. They’re small. They’re fluffy. They store snacks in their cheeks. Just like you.”

۶ৎ he shows you another picture of a golden hamster in a tiny food bowl. “I saw this one online. Look at him. He’s shaped like a grain of rice.”

۶ৎ you squint at it, wiping your eyes. “Is that… Hanbin?”

۶ৎ Jaehyun short-circuits. “OH MY GOD YOU’RE RIGHT—WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THIS.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t leave that night. Orders your comfort food. Makes a ridiculous ‘hamster Pinterest board’ on his phone full of tiny hats.

۶ৎ when you fall asleep with your head in his lap, he just sits there, stroking your hair, whispering :

“You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever. I love you.”

TAESAN ≽^- ˕ -^≼

۶ৎ You don’t want to burden him. 

۶ৎ Taesan’s got a lot on his plate right now—the group’s comeback, his family back in Gwangju, and his ever-ongoing worries about Dupal. So you try to keep it in.

۶ৎ that is, until you find yourself choking on your tears, alone in the apartment, barely able to breathe from the weight of the loss. 

۶ৎ you’re crying over your pet, the one you’ve spent so many years with, and it hurts in a way you didn’t expect.

۶ৎ Taesan knocks on your door later, his usual calm exterior cracking when he sees you, tears streaking down your face.

 ۶ৎ “What happened?” His voice is quieter than usual, genuine concern taking over.

۶ৎ you try to push him away, muttering, “I’m fine, Taesan. I just… need a minute.”

۶ৎ but he’s not buying it. He steps inside, looking at you with those dark eyes—the same eyes that often seem distant, but right now, they’re locked on you, focused entirely.

۶ৎ “No, you’re not. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

۶ৎ when you finally break down and admit that your pet passed away, that you didn’t want to tell him, his heart sinks. He already knows what it’s like to miss someone close.

۶ৎ “I… I get it,” he says softly, voice thick with emotion. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hand on your arm, squeezing gently.

۶ৎ “I know what it feels like to miss someone. Dupal’s not here, and I keep wondering if he’s forgotten me. I don’t want you to feel like that, too.”

۶ৎ he pauses, looking at you with a mix of vulnerability and strength. “I’m… not the best at comforting people. But I’ll sit here with you. I’ll listen. I won’t leave until you’re okay.”

۶ৎ instead of words, Taesan just stays with you. He pulls you into a tight hug, not saying anything but letting you know he’s there.

۶ৎ his hand runs through your hair like a slow, steady rhythm, soothing and calm, like he’s trying to carry some of your pain.

۶ৎ after a while, he pulls back, looking at you, his thumb gently brushing under your eye to catch a tear.

۶ৎ he doesn’t try to give you solutions or rush you through your grief. He just sits with you, the silence speaking volumes.

۶ৎ eventually, you end up sitting on the floor together, as he pulls out his phone and shows you a video of Dupal trying to chase after a car (unsuccessfully, of course), and you can’t help but chuckle through the tears.

 ۶ৎ “I hope he remembers me. Just like I’ll never forget him… And I’ll never forget you either.”

۶ৎ when he leaves for the night, he gives you a long, lingering hug, his hand resting on the back of your head. “Call me if you need anything, okay? Don’t keep it to yourself.”

LEEHAN ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

۶ৎ you hadn’t told him. You didn’t want to disturb him, especially when he was in the middle of his busy schedule. 

۶ৎ Leehan had been trying so hard to make sure everyone was good, especially the members, that you didn’t want to add to his plate.

۶ৎ but you couldn’t keep it in forever. You tried to push the sadness away, but it caught up with you when you least expected it. 

۶ৎ you’re sitting in your apartment, curled up on the couch, when you suddenly get a message from Leehan.

۶ৎ “Hey, Coni misses you! And I have some new fishes to show you, want to come over?”

۶ৎ you don’t respond right away. Instead, you let out a shaky breath. The offer seems so simple, but it reminds you of the pet you just lost. The one you cherished.

۶ৎ you try to talk yourself out of going, but before you know it, you’re heading to the dorms anyway. Maybe seeing Coni will help. Maybe seeing Leehan will help.

۶ৎ when you get there, he’s already in the living room, his arms spread wide as he greets you.

۶ৎ “Look who’s here! Coni’s been waiting for you all day!” He’s excited and cheerful, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he sees you standing in the doorway, quiet and looking like something’s off.

۶ৎ “You okay?” he asks gently, walking toward you and pulling you into a hug. “You’ve been on my mind today. Come on, I want to show you something!”

۶ৎ you let him guide you to the fish tank, the new fishes swimming around. He talks about them excitedly, and the way he describes them with such enthusiasm makes your heart ache. 

۶ৎ his eyes light up as he points out each one, naming them and describing their colours and quirks in a way that’s so Leehan—gentle, thoughtful, and full of joy. 

۶ৎ you can’t help but feel your heart melt a little, but also hurt because the memories of your pet flood in at the same time.

۶ৎ “This one here,” he says with a wide smile, pointing to a small, shimmering fish darting through the water. “This is a Runny Nose Tetra. Look at how it moves, so quick and lively. Reminds me of how much energy Coni has when he’s chasing his ball.” 

۶ৎ “And this is a Gold Gourami,” he continues, his voice full of admiration as he watches the golden fish glide gracefully through the tank. “She’s really calm. The kind that just floats around, not bothering anyone.”

۶ৎ he goes on, his voice light and warm as he explains the behaviour of each fish. You watch him talk about them with such affection, and the way he does makes your heart ache with the weight of your loss.

۶ৎ and then Coni comes bounding into the room, tail wagging so hard that his whole body wiggles. 

۶ৎ you can’t hold it in any longer. The weight of your loss catches up with you, and you break down, tears streaming down your face. The suddenness of it all takes you by surprise, and you feel a tightness in your chest.

۶ৎ Leehan doesn’t panic. He just wraps his arms around you, his voice soft as he says,

۶ৎ “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, babe. I get it. I know how it feels.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t push you to talk about it right away. He just sits with you, letting you cry against his chest.

۶ৎ his hand gently runs through your hair, and you feel the warmth of his embrace grounding you.

* “I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love,” he murmurs, his voice tender. 

۶ৎ “Coni, my fishes… I know they don’t live as long, but that doesn’t make it any easier. And… I know this pain. It’s terrible. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

۶ৎ he pulls back slightly, wiping your tears away with his thumb, and then says something you weren’t expecting.

۶ৎ “I’ll take care of you, okay? We’ll get through this together. We don’t have to forget them, we just… keep their memories close. Like I do with my fish.”

۶ৎ Coni, noticing the sadness, nudges you gently with his nose. Leehan smiles softly, rubbing Coni’s head.

۶ৎ “See? Even Coni gets it. He’s here with you too.”

۶ৎ he makes you a warm drink and sits you down next to him. For the rest of the evening, it’s just the two of you, talking about the silly things Coni and his fishes do, sharing stories of your pets, and letting the grief come and go as it needs to.

۶ৎ before you leave, he kisses your forehead gently and says, “I’m always here for you. And if you need time, I’ll be right here. Whenever you’re ready.”

WOONHAK ʕ｡•ﻌ•｡ʔ

۶ৎ you kept convincing yourself : he’s busy, he’s practising, he’s probably tired, and you didn’t want to be the reason he slowed down. So you didn’t say anything when your pet passed away.

۶ৎ but grief doesn’t always stay quiet. And Woonhak? He just so happened to come over with snacks and that loud sunshine energy of his, flopping onto your couch like always and immediately dragging you into his world.

۶ৎ “Guess who brought peach gummies and terrible horror movies we’re gonna regret watching at 2AM? That’s right. Your favorite genius.”

۶ৎ you force a smile. Try to laugh. Try to keep up. But somewhere between his fifth dramatic retelling of how he heroically caught a falling banana at the dorm, you break.

۶ৎ the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as you bury your face in your hands, trying to hide it—but he notices instantly.

۶ৎ “Wait—wait, you’re crying?? Babe?? What—did I say something dumb? Did I offend the banana??”

۶ৎ he’s scrambling, eyes wide, snacks falling off his lap. He’s panicking—but it’s that sweet kind of panic that shows how much he cares even if he doesn’t know what’s wrong yet.

۶ৎ he practically throws himself onto the floor in front of you, crouching down to your level.

۶ৎ “Babe, hey, look at me—what happened? You’re scaring me…”

۶ৎ you finally manage to whisper it : 

۶ৎ “They’re gone… My pet. I didn’t know who to tell. I didn’t want to make you worry.”

۶ৎ his eyes soften instantly. The panic melts into care, into gentleness—and so Woonhak.

۶ৎ “You—you should’ve told me. I wanna worry about you, dummy.”

 ۶ৎ “…Okay not dummy. You’re a very smart, beautiful person, I’m just emotionally unwell right now because you’re sad and I don’t know what to do.”

۶ৎ he pulls you into the tightest hug, one of those full-bodied, engulfed by a bear kind of hugs.

۶ৎ “It’s okay to cry, you know? Even if you think it’s ‘just a pet’—they were your family. Your best friend. I get it. And I’m here, okay?”

۶ৎ once you’ve calmed down a little, he wipes your tears with his sleeve (and immediately regrets it because “ew okay I used this sleeve to open yogurt earlier wait let me get a tissue—”).

۶ৎ but then he gently sits you down, gets you water, a cozy blanket, and even puts your favorite stuffed animal in your lap with the most serious expression.

۶ৎ “Comfort animal deployment: activated. I am now your emotional support himbo.”

۶ৎ he even makes a little corner of your room a “memorial spot,” setting down a candle and printing out one of your pet’s photos. 

۶ৎ “This is their VIP section. I’m reserving it for good memories and bad jokes in their honour.”

۶ৎ eventually, he pulls you back onto the couch, your head resting against his shoulder. He talks in that soft, low voice he only uses when things are quiet.

۶ৎ “You don’t ever have to deal with this kind of stuff alone, okay? Even if you don’t wanna talk about it, I’m still gonna show up with peach gummies and a stupid horror movie and sit beside you until you feel a little more okay.”

 ۶ৎ “And if you cry again, it’s fine. I’ll cry too. We’ll sob together. Like a synchronized sadness squad. World record or something.”

@coriihanniee 💌

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

taglist: @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @8makes1atom @s0shroe @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @mydeepestsecrects @brownetry @pumpkg @heeheesang @jungwonbropls @prodkwh @reibelhearts @beomev

[moonstruckme]

perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?

Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.

“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he’d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.” 

When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his. 

You look at him. “Hm?” 

“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?” 

“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?” 

James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.” 

You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!” 

You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?” 

Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you. 

“It is really cute,” he agrees.

Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.” 

Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?” 

“It’s a figure of speech, love.” 

“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.” 

Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?” 

He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can. 

“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.” 

It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.” 

You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.” 

“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.” 

“He was making fun of me?” 

Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass. 

“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?” 

You nod. 

“That was it, dove. That was the joke.” 

“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.” 

A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.

You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.” 

It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”

“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.” 

“Don’t seahorses mate for life?” 

“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”

[jamminvroomvroom]

Charles jealous and possessive please! Smut 🔥

no mercy.

CL x fem!reader - 4k celebration ✨

in which lunch with friends turns into charles reminding you that you’re all his

first 4k request up! thank you so much for this, wrote this whole thing in like half an hour bc damn this took me back to my charlie roots. i hope u love this anon, and all my lovely readers - lemme know what you think

warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, swearing, slight breeding kink, use of “slut” (in the sexy way tho!), lando causing his usual chaos (feat. shit stirrer alex), dom!charles/sub!reader, minor hints of corruption kink, slapping like once, fluffy ending

1.4k words

interesting.

the word you’d choose to describe this lunch is interesting.

charles’ hand seems to grow tighter on your thigh with every passing minute, or, to be more precise, every time lando speaks.

“so am i, ahem, are we gonna be seeing you at any races soon?” lando teases, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to alex sat beside him to cover up his slip of the tongue.

“i’ll be there whenever charles wants me there. maybe i’ll even get to see you win a race.” you laugh. you’re enjoying the company, but the impromptu lunch with the other two drivers seems to be riling your boyfriend up to new heights.

you know the brit is teasing him, and alex is lapping up the drama, stirring the pot. you certainly don’t mind if it keeps charles’ hand wandering higher up your leg. you’re just being polite, lando knows that, charles definitely knows that, but his tight smile and clenched jaw paints a different picture.

“i think we need to get going.” charles pipes up suddenly, after what feels like an eternity of silence from the monegasque man, and he throws a few hundred euros down of the table. “see you in bahrain.” he glares at lando pointedly, and extends his hand to you.

you take it, grinning apologetically at lando and alex, who both wear the same shit-eating grins. they know exactly what they’ve done and they’re lapping up the visible irritation they’ve concocted in their friend.

charles opens your door when you reach his ferrari, silently closing it and walking around to the drivers side.


“not a word.” he grunts.

his hand slips into your panties as he starts the car, and your head tips back against the headrest.

-

he throws you onto the bed, no mercy, nothing forgiving behind his rage filled eyes. you wriggle up onto your elbows, watching the way his shirt sleeves are haphazardly rolled up, the way his hands rub together. your thighs clench. his jaw is ticking, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind, ideas brewing.

there’s no warning before pounces, shoving your floral dress up your thighs. he’s met with white lace, intricately textured, gone sheer with your arousal from the way he’d toyed with you in the car, and he sighs deeply, pained.

“this is what you wear out under this slutty fucking dress?” charles glares down at you, yanking at the fabric. the band snaps back against your belly and you gulp, hard. “nothing to say?” he tuts. “you didn’t seem to have a problem talking to my friends.”

“wore it for you, promise.” you whisper, eyes wide, pupils blown. charles scoffs.

“did you really? because it seems like you’ve forgotten who you fucking belong to.”

you don’t get a chance to reply because you’re stunned into silence when a tear sounds from between your thighs. you see a flash of white when he discards your underwear, throwing them to the floor. charles forces your legs apart, settling onto his belly as if he wants to examine you.

“still soaked.” he hums, impressed. “question is, cherie, for who?” he tilts his head condescendingly and your squirm.

as if to torture you, his nimble fingers trace your folds, spreading the wetness he’s created. you buck your hips at the pressure, it’s not nearly enough, and a low whine sounds from the back of your throat.

“all for you, baby.” you promise. “please, charlie.” you beg.

“is my precious girl getting desperate? hm?” he finds your clit, circling it with the pad of his calloused thumb. you nod profusely, and he’s obsessed with your compliance. “now you know how i felt watching him want you.” he spits.

charles plunges two fingers inside of you suddenly, and you cry out, grinding your hips to his rhythm. the stretch is so delicious that you barely register the burn, not that it matters with the way he’s slicked you up already.

“baby, ‘m all yours.” you’re getting desperate now, pleading with your eyes as much as you can between squeezing them shut every time your tummy tightens.

“i’m not so sure, think you need reminding still.” charles smirks, and his pace increases tenfold.

all you can hear is the wet slap of his fingers slamming into your pussy, his other hand teasing at your clit, just barely touching it. it riles you up endlessly, and your belly aches from how tight you’re clamping down around his hand.

“wanna cum.” you slur, dizzy from the shockwaves washing over you.

“ask nicely.” charles quips sternly, slapping your thigh. it sends a jolt through you and you can’t help it, spilling around his long digits.

you expect him to stop, to punish you for disobeying him, but he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s grinning when you manage to open your eyes.

“so that’s how you’re gonna be, hm? you wanna act like a slut, cherie? because believe me, i’ll treat you like one.” he speaks concisely, slowly, his voice low and threatening.

he points to your dress. “off. now.”

you scramble to peel it off, throwing it off of the bed, and your bra follows suit. you lay there bare, studying him. if you didn’t know him, love him, you’d think he’s his normal self, but you can see the way he’s digging his nails into his palm, can see the way his neck is flushed red. he unclenches his hands to undo his jeans, just enough so that his cock is on display, red and aggressively hard. you wonder how long he’s been like that.

charles kneels at the end of the bed, shifting until he’s hovering over you. the head of his cock nudges your clit, spreading the remnants of your orgasm over himself and your cunt, watching the way it flutters at the pressure. and then he’s sinking in, slow, deep. he’s heavy on top of you and you revel in the weight of him, his scent.

he grins when he bottoms out, letting out a low groan. he stills for a moment, looks at you, brushes a few strands of hair away from your pink flushed face.

“apologise.” charles coos, mockingly. your eyes well with tears, so much pressure swelling in your belly.

“charles.” you whimper, attempting to thread your fingers through his hair, but he catches your hand, sweeping up the other, and pins both of your wrists above your head.

“apologise.”

and you can’t help but ramble pathetically.

“i’m sorry, charlie, love you so much, ‘m so sorry.”

the feeling of his hips hitting yours is like water in the desert: luxurious, essential. the pace he sets is brutal, utterly fantastic, a stark contrast to anything he’s ever given to you before.

this entire experience is surreal, he usually dotes, whispers lovingly into your ear as he gently coaxes orgasms out of you. this could not be anymore different.

the power he exudes, fully clothed, rocking into your quivering, naked body turns you on endlessly, unlocking a part of yourself that you’d never let anyone else see before.

“you like it better like this, don’t you, cherie? when i fuck you hard like this?” you nod frantically. “pretending to be the sweetest little angel when really, you’re nothing but a dirty fucking girl, letting him gawk at you. bet you loved it, all that attention.” charles grunts.

you arch into him, the elastic band in your core growing that bit too tight.

“maybe i need to fuck a baby into you, make sure everyone knows you’re all mine.” he whispers.

that’s all it takes. you reach your high instantly, spurred on by the filth he spouts. the tight, hot hold you have on him makes him see stars, and then he’s cumming, too, spilling warm and white into you.

it’s quiet for a moment, the air still, the smell of sex settling over the space. you relax into the bed, and gently, he pulls out of you. he smiles softly, fingers grazing your sweat dampened face. he unbuttons his shirt as he walks to the en-suite, returning to you shirtless and with a warm, damp cloth.

you smile sleepily as he cleans you up, wiping away the mess he’s made between your legs - as best as he can, anyways - and then he strips off his jeans, and clambers into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your back is flush to his chest.

“was that okay?” he asks quietly. you roll over in his arms, raising your head to peck his jaw.

“more than okay.”

“i didn’t take it too far?”

“baby, it was perfect.” you giggle.

“you know i’m not mad at you, right? but i swear, if lando ever looks at you like that again, he won’t be having kids.”

-

first 4k request happy dance 🕺🏻✨

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal

lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

[fic-girlie]

pedro talking about his actress wife and children on an interview, pleaseeeee

The way he says your name

Pairing: dad!Pedro Pascal x actress!mom!reader Summary: In an interview, Pedro speaks about you and your children, Lucia and Mateo, with so much love it softens every word. He says you’ve grounded him, changed him—and made his world feel whole. Warnings: established relationship, Pedro being proud, fluff, softness

The lights are warm against his skin, hotter than he remembers from the last time he did one of these. Stage lighting always feels just a little too bright, too artificial — but he sits calmly, legs crossed at the ankle, fingers laced in his lap. The navy blue t-shirt fits him like a second skin. There’s a softness in his shoulders, a looseness in the way he holds himself now. You’d know just from the way he’s sitting that he’s happy.

Because he is. Because he’s thinking about you.

“Pedro,” the interviewer starts, friendly, relaxed. It's one of those longform interviews — the ones that feel more like a conversation, like they’re sitting down in someone’s living room instead of in a studio in downtown LA. “So, you’ve been working nonstop. Three shows, two movies in the past year. But every time we see you, you seem so grounded. How do you stay sane?”

He huffs out a laugh, warm and slightly self-deprecating. That shy little smile you love — the one where his eyes flick down before he glances back up through his lashes.

“I’m not always sane,” he admits, and the whole room laughs with him. “But I have… I have a lot of help. And perspective. And love. I’ve got a very patient wife and two very loud kids. That helps.”

The interviewer smiles. “Oh, we’re gonna talk about them. People are obsessed with the two of you. I mean, a working actor couple, two kids, always so private but so clearly in love…”

Pedro leans back, one arm draped casually over the armrest. His hand taps rhythmically against the fabric for a moment before he nods. His voice lowers, not in volume but in tone — like he’s drawing a curtain back in his heart.

“Yeah,” he says, almost reverently. “Yeah, I’m— I’m really lucky. We met on a set, which sounds cliché, I know.” He glances off-camera, eyes creased with amusement. “But it wasn’t romantic right away. It was slow. Respectful. We were both busy, both trying to figure our shit out. But… she just got me. Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

The way he says “she” carries weight — like the word itself is something precious. His smile softens when he continues.

“She’s brilliant. Like, scarily talented. My kids get all their brains from her. And she’s this phenomenal actress, but when she’s home, she’s just—she’s just there. For all of us. Not just existing in the room, but… present. She makes everything feel like it matters.”

The interviewer nods, clearly sensing the sincerity that’s spilling out of him like water over a glass’s edge. “Was there a moment you knew? That she was the one?”

Pedro’s lips part. He leans forward a little, elbows resting on his knees.

“There was a night, before we were married, where we were both exhausted. Filming late, stress everywhere. I came home and found her asleep on the couch with our daughter on her chest. Mateo was just a baby — couldn’t have been more than six months old. And she had this little sock in her hand, just this tiny blue sock, like she’d taken it off and fallen asleep holding it. I don’t know why that moment hit me so hard, but I just… I stood there and knew. That I’d never love anyone like I love her.”

The room falls quiet for a moment, and the interviewer almost seems surprised by the tenderness of it.

“That’s beautiful,” they murmur. “So, Mateo’s your oldest?”

Pedro’s eyes light up at the mention of her name.

“He’s eight now. Eight. Which is wild. He’s already telling me how to dress. He’s got opinions, man.” He laughs again, eyes crinkling. “He’s got her mom’s strength. Doesn’t back down from anything. And he’s got this kindness, too — like, this instinct to take care of everyone in the room. If someone’s sad, he’ll notice first. He’ll do something about it. I see him with his little sister sometimes and think, damn, he’s gonna change the world.”

“And Mateo?”

“Oh,” Pedro breathes, and his whole face changes — like he’s picturing him right now. “Lucia is six. She’s… chaos.” A deep, amused chuckle bubbles up. “She’s got so much energy it’s like someone packed a hurricane into a juice box. But she’s also—she’s got this face, this little soft baby face, and she’ll say something like, ‘Papa, I missed you even while I was sleeping,’ and I’m just gone. Useless. Completely wrecked.”

The interviewer laughs. “You’re so clearly in love with them.”

“I am,” he says, and this time there’s no deflection, no embarrassment. “They’re the best parts of me. Of us. My wife and I—we built this life together. Between trailers and airports and press junkets, we carved it out. And it’s ours. Every night I come home, and my son yells my name like I’m a superhero, and my daughter asks me how my day went like she really cares. And my wife, she just… she’s there. In my arms. Smelling like baby lotion and lavender shampoo and home.”

He pauses, glancing down at his hands. When he speaks again, his voice is a little lower.

“I missed some things. In the beginning. Work pulled me away more than I wanted. I was scared I’d never find balance. But she never made me feel guilty. She just kept showing up. Kept loving me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The interviewer tilts their head. “And now?”

Pedro looks up.

“Now I say no to more things,” he says with a small smile. “Now I make pancakes on Sundays. Now I help with costumes for school plays and build really shitty Lego castles and go to dance recitals and sit in little plastic chairs at parent-teacher conferences. And I wouldn’t trade any of that for another blockbuster or another award.”

He shifts in his seat, eyes gleaming.

“She made it all possible. My wife. She made me a better man without ever trying to change me. And every day I look at her and think, how the hell did I get this lucky?”

The interviewer clears their throat, clearly touched. “I think that’s the best answer we’ve ever had.”

Pedro grins, almost boyishly. “Well, now she’s gonna see this and cry, and then I’ll cry, and our daughter will say ‘Ugh, you guys are so embarrassing.’ But yeah. They’re everything.”

They move on to other questions, but his thoughts linger. And somewhere, maybe hours away, you’ll see this interview. You’ll watch it alone, maybe with a cup of tea, maybe curled up with a blanket that still smells faintly like him. The kids might be asleep. You might have had a hard day.

But when he says your name, when he talks about you like that — like you’re the sun he orbits — something in you will still melt. After all this time.

Because you know it’s real. Because every word he says, on camera and off, always comes from the same place.

Home.

[sectumsempraaa]

Roadtripping

Pairing: they’re all in love w/ you lol x fem!reader

Word count: 1.9k

T/W: none

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo

Summary: It’s a three day weekend at Hogwarts, and you want to make the most of it. But roadtripping with a bunch of Slytherin boys (who would do anything for you) means bickering, flirting, and a road-side emergency.

A/N: Some silly nonsense I came up with today. Needed a little fun 🤭

“Absolutely not.” Draco commands, his tone as stern as ever as he jangles the car keys in his right hand.

“Come on, you stubborn twit. You always drive!” Mattheo complains, his voice like that of a cranky teenager.

“There’s a reason for that, Mr. I-Swear-I-Won’t-Speed-Again,” Draco responds as the two of them bicker in front of the castle, waiting for the rest of the gang to meet.

You make your way downstairs with Theodore and Lorenzo, both of them helping to carry your luggage, despite your insisting that you were fine on your own.

It’s a three day weekend at Hogwarts and the Slytherin crew has decided to roadtrip for it, an idea you proposed that was met with immediate enthusiasm.

But let’s face it, you could suggest swimming with sharks and these boys would do it. Oh, you’re asking? Then the answer is yes.

You pick up on Draco and Mattheo’s argument as it becomes less distant. You roll your eyes, laughing to yourself as Theo and Enzo drop the bags next to the disagreeing couple.

“It was ONE ticket, TWO years ago, and-”

“One deep, unforgivable scratch on MY passenger door.” Draco sneers, lunging towards Mattheo as the argument intensifies. “You think I’m putting your clumsy arse behind the wheel with precious Y/N in the car?”

Yeah. It’s time to step in.

“Matty, baby, maybe we should take the backseat on this one. But, literally.” You interject with your soft, angelic voice and a comforting hand squeezing his shoulder.

The second he turns to you, his expression melts into a state of calm. His eyebrows relax as the corners of his mouth turn slightly up.

“As long as you’re back there with me, sweetheart,” He suggests, each word laced with a child-like hope.

“Sure-” you start, before you’re interrupted by Theo.

“What the hell gives you the right to assign seats? Especially for Y/N, who should obviously be next to me instead,” Theo retorts.

“And why’s that? So she can hold your hand when you get car sick?” Lorenzo mocks while holding his stomach and laughing, earning a middle finger from Theo in reply. Lorenzo continues to plead his case.

“I’m the perfect shoulder height if Y/N wants to take a nap. Therefore, she’s sitting next to me.”

“Can’t nap on them if they’re dislocated.” Theo grimaces as he takes an intimidating step towards Lorenzo.

You can’t help but giggle at the ensuing debate over something so trivial. At this point, there’s no use in trying to interfere. You stride over to Draco who silently observes the others with a permanent scowl.

“Hey, should we go warm up the car?” You ask, wrapping your hands around his arm.

“And make them drag all the luggage over themselves?” He suggests.

“You read my mind, Malfoy.” You smile, your agreement earning one from him in return. A wave of peace washes over his features, an effect you commonly have on the boys.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you should sit in the back.” Draco says as you give him a knowing look on the walk to the car.

“To keep the storm at bay in the backseat?”

“That, and I think the whole lot might implode if they can’t access you. You just tell me when you need a break from babysitting.” He playfully nudges your side, placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

You both turn to the sound of the boys moaning and groaning while struggling to carry all the bags to the car.

“Meeting adjourned?” You joke as the boys catch their breath. Mattheo pipes in to respond, pointing a finger at you.

“You. Backseat. Center. Now.”

—

And so the trip begins.

Well, it would have started sooner if Enzo hadn’t needed two rest stops almost immediately, blaming it on his alcohol consumption from the night before. Followed by Draco demanding him to “just hold it,” which resulted in many verbal threats.

“Which one of you foul gits has the aux cord right now?” Mattheo asks with annoyance from your right side.

“We’ve been listening to this classical shit since we bloody left,” Theo snarls from your left as he stretches an arm around you, fiddling with the fabric on your shoulder.

“Guys, it’s Draco’s car, so it’s only fair he gets to choose.” You defend your driver despite it ending with pouts from the others. You can’t help but notice the blush forming on Draco’s face.

“It’s the radio, you blubbering idiot. You can change it if you like.” Draco offers.

Lorenzo’s hand almost immediately reaches for the knobs, turning it to classic rock and boosting the volume way too high for anyone’s liking.

“My god, turn that trash down, Enzo!” Theo yells from the backseat, completely ignored by a headbanging, dashboard-drumming Enzo. “Fine then,”

Theo leans forward, hoisting his whole upper body over the front seat in order to turn it down.

“Y/N, darling, you need anything?” Draco asks, catching your eyes in the mirror.

“I’d take a stretch. Oh, and a snack!” You reply, to which all heads turn to you like you’re some kind of genius.

Mattheo gasps with excitement. “Brilliant brain this one has, yeah?!” He laughs as he places his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. He gives you a wink, acting like no one else in the car even exists.

Draco agrees, informing the group of the next rest stop in nearly 20 miles.

To this, you sigh and let a yawn escape you. Mattheo’s eyes light up as you remove his hand from your chin and wrap it around yourself, sinking into his side as you close your eyes.

Seemingly in unison, the other three boys observe your movement with looks of envy raging in their eyes. Even Draco, who should be keeping his eyes on the road, scoffs and mumbles to himself.

“God damnit, I should never have put her back there.”

“Mind if I nap here for 20 miles?” You ask Mattheo, knowing full well he would never deny you.

“You can nap here for eternity, love. I’m not going anywhere.” Mattheo wraps his other arm, both around your waist now, and shifts so the back of your head rests on his chest. Theo chimes in with his reaction.

“Great, so I’ll just sit here on the verge of illness and watch the girl of my dreams take comfort on this half-wit.”

“Yup.” Mattheo responds with a smug, shit-eating grin.

—

You awaken suddenly to a loud thud, jolting you from your small nap. A groan from Mattheo leads you to believe he was asleep, too.

“Great mother of fuck!” Draco blurts out, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Shit, Draco, what was that?” Lorenzo asks as Theo looks out the window to investigate. His head turns both ways before landing on the culprit.

“Mio dio… flat tire, mate.” Theo announces to the rest of the car.

You’d just barely made it to the next rest stop before driving over some glass on the road that unfortunately has you pulled over on the side of the road now.

The whole crew gets out, Theo looking relieved at the lack of motion. Draco bends down to take a look at the tire, his hands grazing its surface. He takes a long, determined pause.

“Is there… a spell for this?” He asks sheepishly.

“You’re joking, right? You can’t use magic out here.” Theo answers, gesturing to the busy highway passing by you. He saunters over to you, pulling you in his arms.

“Sorry, bella. I’ll buy you a snack after we fix this.” He rests his head on top of yours as you breathe in his scent.

An idea occurs to you, luckily, just as Lorenzo picks a fight with Theo over who’s buying you lunch.

You walk back to where Draco is and kneel beside him as he continues to observe the tire with defeat in his eyes.

“Draco darling,” you start, instantly winning his affection. His ice blue stare melts into yours as you rest a hand on his knee. “Do you have a spare?”

“A spare what?”

Your eyes close briefly in impatience, willing yourself to understand his privileged upbringing. Instead of asking again, you stand up and proceed to check the trunk for a tire. And to your surprise, you find one.

The other boys are too distracted trying to come up with solutions and trying to flag down other cars to notice your initiative. Draco helps you roll it to the side of the car, looking hesitant as you kneel back down.

“Tools?” You ask.

“Tools!” He affirms, quickly making his way back with a box of everything you need. “You sure you know how to-” he starts, cut off by your annoyed glare.

“Are you underestimating me, Malfoy?” To which he merely shakes his head and swallows, regretting his question and watching you return to the task before you.

“Can I help?” Draco coos, his eyes filled with apology.

“You just sit there and look pretty. Oh, and make sure those morons don’t get run over.” You joke, throwing a wink his way. He stands up and gathers the other boys, assuring them you’re going to be on the road again soon.

“You’re making her change the tire?!” Lorenzo yells, completely appalled.

“She’s our only hope right now, Enzo. You want to walk the extra eight miles to fetch her a sandwich?” Draco grits his teeth while scolding the boy. You give Enzo a shrug and a sympathetic look in return.

After a solid fifteen minutes, the new tire is installed and ready to go.

You find the boys sitting in the field, laughing uncontrollably and generally… enjoying each other. Which, for the first time on this trip, is extremely refreshing.

“Hey lovebirds!” You call from the side of the car, gesturing to your job well done. All four heads turn, once again, in unison in your direction. Mattheo the first to physically stand up, running over to you and nearly tackling you over.

He lifts you up and spins you in his arms while the others admire your finished product. Lorenzo pipes in first.

“Jeez, Y/N, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Gods, and I thought I couldn’t fall more in love with her.” Theo swoons.

“I told you she has a brilliant brain,” Mattheo remarks.

“While the lot of you were having playdates in mansions, I was out in the country. My father taught me how to get out of almost any situation.” You respond, the group looking at you like they worship you.

“C’mere you gorgeous thing,” Draco beckons, the rest of them crowding around you for the first and only group hug they’ve ever performed.

“Our fucking hero, principessa.” Theo declares. “We wouldn’t last two days without you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You state with the utmost confidence and a dramatic eye roll.

The tightness of their arms envelopes you, and you realize suddenly this might not have been the best idea. Your small celebration is quickly ambushed by the boys.

“Who’s touching my arse?”

“No one wants to touch your arse, you idiot.”

“Hey, don’t talk shit about Matty’s arse,” Theo joins in.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be buying us lunch?”

“No, I’m supposed to be buying Y/N lunch.” Theo grabs you and pulls you away from the group, earning a playful yelp from you.

“My brilliant bella. What would we do without you?”

You look back at your boys; your helpless and immature, yet loving and fiercely loyal boys.

“I have no answer for you, Theo. I don’t want to imagine a life without you.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍