#think about if i could ever watch it again...

[flwrstqr]

❪ 日语 ❫ 𓈒 ㅤ DREAMER, ENHYPEN AS YOUR HUSBAND ╰—— 𝓲. ⸝⸝𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗂'𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽.

── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : husband!enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ you on your lady days for riki's part TT, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】

다니 : since this won the poll,, i'll post this first (>//<) trust i'll post the other one tomorrow or some day over the weekends

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung never lets you sit anywhere but on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. “baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin. you giggle, hitting his arm in a teasing way. “hee, we’ve been married for years. aren’t you tired of flirting?” he pulls back, feigning offense. “never. in fact—” he tilts his head, eyes dark with mischief— “i think i’ve gotten better at it.” you roll your eyes, but he steals a kiss before you can retort, his lips melting into yours. “mm, still obsessed with me, huh?” you tease, and he smirks, tightening his hold. “hopelessly. my wife’s too gorgeous, what am i supposed to do?” you try to glare at him, but he only kisses your pout away, laughing as he pulls you closer.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "jay, what the hell is this?" you gape at the endless shopping bags filling your living room, designer logos flashing at you like a personal boutique had exploded in your home. your husband grins, draping an arm around your waist. "happy two-week wedding anniversary, baby." you blink at him. "two weeks, jay. who even celebrates that?" he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. "me. because i love you. and i love spoiling my wife." you groan, burying your face in his chest as he chuckles. "you're insane." he tilts your chin up, eyes twinkling. "insanely in love with you." you roll your eyes, but your heart flutters when he kisses you like he’d marry you all over again if he could. "just say thank you, pretty girl," he whispers against your lips. sighing, you wrap your arms around his neck. "thank you, my crazy but handsome husband."

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake finds you curled up on the couch, your soft breaths filling the quiet room, the tv still playing faintly in the background. his heart melts instantly—his wife, waiting for him, only to fall asleep. he crouches beside you, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. he leans in, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead, careful not to wake you. you stir slightly, lips parting, but he soothes you with a gentle hand on your back. “shh, sleep, baby,” he whispers, then, without hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to his chest. he chuckles under his breath, pressing another feather-light kiss to your temple. “always waiting for me,” he sighs, carrying you to bed.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon hums, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip as you both lie tangled in the sheets. “how about waffles, since we had it for breakfast?” he murmurs, lips brushing against your temple. you scoff, flicking his forehead. “hoon, that’s the ugliest name ever.” he chuckles, pulling you closer, his skin warm against yours. “fine, then you come up with one, genius.” you pause, thinking, and he watches you with that soft, lovestruck gaze. “hmm… i like soojin for a girl.” “soojin,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue. “pretty. what about a boy?” “maybe—” “no,” he interrupts, voice low, teasing. “i vote for waffles.” you groan, burying your face in his chest. “we’re never having kids.” he just laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair. “too late, sweetheart. i already imagined a little waffle park running around.”

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “baby, you have a fever,” sunoo pouts, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead for the tenth time in the past minute. you groan, swatting him away, but he’s already tucking the blanket tighter around you. “stay still, i’ll get you some medicine.” before you can protest, he’s gone, returning moments later with a glass of water, a thermometer, and— “sunoo, why did you bring an entire first aid kit?” he huffs, ignoring you as he carefully pops a pill into your palm. “just in case! what if your fever suddenly skyrockets? or you faint? or—” “baby,” you mumble, tugging at his sleeve, “i think i’ll survive.” he softens instantly, cupping your cheek. “i just don’t like seeing you sick,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “so let me take care of you, okay?” you sigh, giving in.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon notices before you even say a word. at exactly three hours into the party, he glances at you, eyes flickering down to your heels, and like clockwork, you mumble, “my heels hurt…” without missing a beat, he’s already reaching for your hand, guiding you toward a quieter corner. “i knew it,” he murmurs, setting down his drink before crouching in front of you. “here, hold onto me.” you blink as he loosens the straps, slipping your heels off with gentle hands. “won, you didn’t have to—” “of course, i did,” he interrupts softly, pulling out a pair of flats from the bag he brought—because of course, he thought ahead. your heart swells as he looks up, grinning. “i always know what you need.” you shake your head, laughing, but as he presses a kiss to your lips, you realize—yeah, he really does.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "babe, what size do i have to get?" riki’s panicked voice crackles through the phone, and you bite back a laugh, curled up in bed with a heating pad pressed to your stomach. "riki, it's not jeans, just get the ones i always use," you tease, hearing him groan dramatically on the other end. "yeah, but there's like—fifty kinds! wings, no wings, overnight, ultra-thin—why is this so complicated?" he whines, and you can practically picture him, standing in the aisle with a distressed look, glaring at the shelves. you giggle, and he huffs. "stop laughing at me, i'm suffering for you," he grumbles, but then softer, "do you need anything else? chocolate? a heating pad? tell me, baby, i got you." your heart melts, even as he keeps acting nonchalant. "just hurry back, riki." "i'm already running," he says, and you know he means it.

[carnalcrows]

JEALOUSY - SUHYEOK

pairing: lee suhyeok x bottom male reader

synopsis: Fighting zombies is one thing; fighting off your secret boyfriend’s jealousy while your friend crushes on you? Pure chaos.

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex, anal, voyuerism (?), zombies.

word count: 1.2k

A/N: give me more AOUAD reqs yall!!

The classroom buzzed with a strange energy, an odd mix of fear and camaraderie. Despite the ever-present moans and thuds of the undead outside, the boys managed to find ways to distract themselves from the grim reality. The latest distraction? Wujin’s endless monologue.

"You know," Wujin began, leaning back against the wall with the confidence of someone who definitely thought they were the main character, "if we survive this apocalypse—and I mean if—I’m taking Y/N out for a fancy dinner. Like, steak, dessert, the whole deal."

The group burst into laughter. Dae-su nearly choked on his biscuit, while Cheong-san shook his head with a grin.

"Bro, you can’t even afford steak," Cheong-san teased. "Your wallet’s emptier than the cafeteria right now."

"First of all," Wujin retorted, holding up a finger, "rude. Second of all, Y/N is worth it. He’s got that whole ‘strong and silent’ vibe going on, you know? Like, the kind of guy who could carry you bridal style through a horde of zombies and still look cool doing it."

More laughter erupted, and even you—sitting across the room sorting through supplies—couldn’t help but crack a smile. Wujin was nothing if not persistent.

"You’ve got it bad, huh?" Dae-su said, nudging Wujin with his elbow.

Wujin sighed dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. "Of course I do! Have you seen him? He’s like... the human equivalent of a survival handbook. Practical, reliable, and ridiculously good-looking. If I had a chance, I wouldn’t just shoot my shot—I’d cannonball into it."

Suhyeok, who’d been leaning against the wall a few feet away, stayed silent. He twirled a metal pipe in his hands, his expression unreadable.

"Y/N’s great and all," Cheong-san said, throwing a glance in your direction. "But don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?"

"Me? Dramatic?" Wujin gasped, mock-offended. "It’s not dramatic to acknowledge greatness when you see it. He’s a ten out of ten."

The group burst into laughter again, but Suhyeok barely reacted. He simply shrugged, his voice calm as he said, "Yeah, Y/N’s cool."

Wujin grinned, turning to him. "Right? I mean, come on, Suhyeok, even you’ve gotta admit he’s a catch."

Suhyeok gave a nonchalant hum, his tone light. "Sure. He’s a good guy." His fingers tightened on the pipe for just a moment before he set it down, his movements smooth.

The conversation drifted to other topics, but Suhyeok’s mind stayed stuck on Wujin’s words. The casual teasing and compliments shouldn’t have bothered him, but they did.

He glanced at you across the room, the corner of his mouth twitching up as you focused on organizing the supplies. You were completely oblivious to Wujin’s crush—and to Suhyeok’s growing jealousy.

Later that night, the group settled down, some asleep while others kept watch. You slipped away with Suhyeok under the guise of checking the rooftop, craving a moment of peace.

As you leaned against the railing, the cool night air brushing against your skin, you sighed. "You know, Wujin’s been talking about me all day. He’s funny, but man, he really doesn’t stop."

Suhyeok leaned beside you, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, he’s got a lot to say."

You chuckled, completely missing the edge in his tone. "He’s harmless, though. Honestly, it’s kind of sweet. I think he—"

Before you could finish, Suhyeok turned and kissed you, cutting you off mid-sentence. The force of it pushed you back against the railing, his hands gripping your waist firmly. The kiss was intense, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back all day and finally snapped.

You froze for a moment before kissing him back, your hands clutching at his jacket. When he finally pulled back, his lips red and slightly swollen, you were left breathless.

"What the hell was that for?" you asked, your voice low and shaky.

Suhyeok’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. "You really don’t know, do you?"

"Know what?" you asked, genuinely confused.

He smirked, brushing his thumb along your jaw. "You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t care who else thinks they have a shot—you’re mine."

The words sent a shiver down your spine. "Wait… is this about Wujin? You’re jealous?"

Suhyeok didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed you again, rougher this time, his hands sliding up your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss grew sloppier, your breaths mingling as his lips moved down to your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp as he nipped at your skin, his grip on you tightening.

Your hands moved to his shoulders, as he trailed down to your pants, pulling them down with a firm tug, making you gasp with surprise.

“Here? What if someone–” he interrupted you with another searing kiss as he tugge your boxers down too, leaving your lower half bare.

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a small packet of lube (magician I tell you), and ripped it open with his teeth. You simply stared at him wide-eyed, wondering where the damn thing came from. Suhyeok merely smirked, and poured the cold liquid onto his fingers, watching it run down to his palms.

He gently turned you around and prodded one lubed finger against your ass, slowly inserting it, with you covering your mouth. He then added one after the other– and soon, three fingers were steadily pumping in and out of you.

Your back arched, pushing forward into the wall in front of you– hands digging into the paint, coming off with flecks in your nails.

Deeming you to be prepped enough, Suhyeok removed his fingers and replaced them with his erection, his pants hanging low at his ankles.

He pressed the tip in– followed by the rest of his length, until he fully bottomed out inside of you. He groaned at how your hole was clenching tightly around his cock– feeling every twitch and pulse.

“Gonna move now baby,” he uttered before pulling out all the way before slamming back in. You moaned at the feeling– almost forgetting that the zombies or your friends could hear you at any moment. 

Suhyeok turned you around to face him– having an almost death grip on your waist. One of your hands tightly clutched his shoulder, while the other covered your mouth so that you wouldn’t let out any noises.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning with almost every single thrust. You felt so fucking good around his cock.

"Suhyeok," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Someone could walk in."

As if on cue, the rooftop door creaked open.

Both of you turned, startled, to see Wujin standing there, his face a mix of shock and horror.

"I—I was just—" Wujin stammered, his eyes darting between you and Suhyeok. "You know what? Nope. Didn’t see anything. Carry on."

Before either of you could say a word, Wujin spun around and bolted, the door slamming shut behind him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. "Great. This is exactly what I needed."

Suhyeok laughed softly, still thrusting gently inside of you, "Guess we don’t have to keep it a secret anymore."

"Yeah, and now I get to deal with Wujin thinking I’m a jerk."

"He’ll get over it," Suhyeok said, pulling you closer. "And if not, who cares? You’re mine, Y/N. That’s all that matters."

You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And you love it," he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple, before pulling out and slamming back in again with full force– making you let out an almost pornographic moan in surprise.

It was going to be a long night.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[harrysfolklore]

31st - hs

happy birthday to the one and only love of my life 🥹🥹 31 omg! i hope he has the best day ever <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You woke up early on February 1st, carefully slipping out of bed without disturbing Harry, who was still peacefully sleeping. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, reflecting light across his face. At 31, he was somehow even more beautiful than when you'd first met him - a few more laugh lines around his eyes, his curls slightly shorter now, but still undeniably your Harry.

Making your way to the kitchen, you began the birthday breakfast preparations you'd been planning for days. You started brewing his favorite coffee and pulled out the ingredients for the banana pancakes he loved so much.

As you worked, you couldn't help but smile, remembering his 30th birthday last year - the big party, all their friends and family gathered together. This year, though, Harry had asked for something quieter, more intimate. "Just us," he'd said, "maybe dinner with family later."

The sound of footsteps made you look up, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe in his pajama bottoms and that old Rolling Stones t-shirt you loved so much.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," you scolded playfully, whisking the pancake batter.

"Bed was cold without you," he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. His hair was adorably mussed, and he had pillow creases on his cheek. "Besides, something smells amazing."

"Happy birthday, love," you said softly, abandoning your cooking to wrap your arms around him.

He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Thank you, baby."

"Thirty-one," you mused, running your fingers through his hair. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?" He pulled back to look at you, his green eyes twinkling. "Pretty much the same as thirty. Though I did find another grey hair yesterday."

You laughed, reaching up to touch the single silver strand at his temple. "I think it makes you look distinguished."

"Distinguished?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Mhmm," you nodded seriously. "Very sophisticated. Very George Clooney."

"Oi!" He tickled your sides, making you squeal. "I'm not that old yet!"

The pancakes were momentarily forgotten as you both dissolved into laughter, play-fighting in the kitchen like teenagers. Finally, Harry pulled you close again, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"You know," he murmured, "this is already my favorite birthday."

"It's barely started!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm here with you, in our kitchen, and you're making me breakfast. What could be better?"

Your heart swelled with love for this man who could find joy in the simplest moments. "Well, it might get even better when you see your presents."

His eyes lit up like a child's. "Presents? But you said we weren't doing big gifts this year!"

"And we're not," you assured him, turning back to the pancakes before they burned. "Just a few small things. Though..." you paused for dramatic effect, "there might be tickets to that vintage guitar show in Nashville you were talking about."

Harry's gasp of delight made you laugh. "Really? The one with the '59 Les Paul?"

"Maybe," you sang, flipping a pancake. "You'll have to wait and see."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you cook. "Have I told you lately that you're the best wife ever?"

You felt your cheeks flush at the word 'wife,' still not quite used to hearing it spoken aloud. After nearly a year of marriage, it was still your precious secret, shared only with family and closest friends. The ring on your finger was usually hidden away in public, and you'd both become experts at careful wording in interviews.

"Shh," you teased, though your heart fluttered at his words. "The walls might have ears."

Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You know, I've been thinking about that actually."

"About what?" you asked, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

He turned you around gently, his expression thoughtful. "About keeping it secret. Don't get me wrong, this past year has been incredible, having something that's just ours. But sometimes..." he paused, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I just want to tell the whole world that I'm married to the most amazing woman."

You set down the spatula, studying his face. "Really? You want to go public?"

"Only if you're ready," he said quickly. "But yeah, I do. It's been almost a year, and honestly, I'm tired of not being able to call you my wife whenever I want to. Of having to take my ring off for appearances. Of watching you do the same."

Your heart raced at the possibility. "It would change things," you said softly. "The privacy we've had..."

"I know," he nodded, taking your hands in his. "But maybe... maybe it's time. And what better day than my birthday? We could post something simple, just us."

You thought about it for a moment. The past year had been magical, your private bubble of newlywed bliss protected from the public eye. But he was right - there was something exhausting about constantly hiding, about choosing your words so carefully, about slipping your rings off before stepping outside.

"Okay," you finally said, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. "But after breakfast! These pancakes are getting cold."

Later, after breakfast and presents, you both sat on the couch, phones in hand. You'd chosen a simple photo from your wedding day - just your hands intertwined, both wearing your rings, nothing too revealing but unmistakably a wedding photo.

"Ready?" he asked, his thumb hovering over the 'post' button.

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Ready."

With a click, your secret was out in the world. You both turned your phones to silent, knowing they would explode with notifications any second.

"How does it feel?" Harry asked, pulling you close.

You twisted your ring, which for the first time wouldn't have to come off when you left the house later. "Liberating," you decided. "Scary, but good scary."

"No more hiding," he agreed, kissing your temple.

"No more hiding," you repeated, then laughed. "Your mum's going to be thrilled. She's been dying to post those wedding photos."

"Oh God," Harry groaned good-naturedly. "She's probably already sharing them as we speak."

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying this quiet moment before the world would inevitably explode with the news. "Happy birthday, H. Sorry I kind of hijacked it with our announcement."

"Are you kidding?" He grinned down at you. "This is the best gift you could have given me. Now everyone knows I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Charmer," you muttered, but you were smiling.

"Your charmer," he corrected, then added with obvious delight, "Your husband."

"My husband," you agreed, loving how it felt to say it out loud, knowing you wouldn't have to whisper it anymore.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by zayn, yourinstagram and 20,876,449 others

harrystyles Best birthday gift was marrying my soulmate almost a year ago. Thank you for keeping our secret. ❤️

February, 2024

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username1 WHAT THE HELL

username2 IS THIS A JOKE

taylorswift Finally!! 🥂 Keeping this secret was TORTURE. So happy for you both ♥️

gemmastyles Bbout time you two told everyone!! now i can finally post all the cute photos from the wedding 😭💕

lizzo YALL I WAS AT THE WEDDING AND HAD TO PRETEND I WASNT THIS WHOLE TIME 😭 CONGRATS AGAIN BESTIES

niallhoran The most beautiful day! Love you both!

yourinstagram Finally 🤍 Happy birthday to my husband (!!!) who makes every day feel like a love song. Thank you for choosing me, always.

username3 HUSBAND???????? MARRIED????????? IM SHAKING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

username4 OH MY GOD THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG. REMEMBER WHEN HE KEPT TOUCHING HIS RING FINGER IN THAT ONE INTERVIEW??

username5 not me zooming in on every detail of this photo 👀 THE RINGS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL IM SOBBING

username6 the way they kept this secret for a YEAR?? we love a private couple

username7 HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN

username8 im so happy for them but also crying in the club rn 😭

username9 THE WAY YN JUST CALLED HIM HUSBAND IM SCREAMING

username10 not me thinking about how they had a whole secret wedding and we had no idea 😭 they're so powerful

username11 "best birthday gift" STOP IM CRYING THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

[reiderwriter]

hi Kacie :"> it's me :"> just thinking about ''reader sitting on his face in reverse cowgirl and decides to just unbutton and zip down his pants, turning this to a 69 and somehow both of them make it into a 'who's gonna make the other one finish first' competition'' nothing much how has your afternoon been I hope you'll have a great day xx -kei

A Kei request a day keeps the chances of my going to heaven away 🙏 I <3 smut

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, use of pet names (good boy), sub(ish) Spencer Reid, munch!Spencer, oral (m +f), 69ing, rough sex, face fucking, unprotected oral sex, no plot just sex. Literally no plot.

Masterlist <3

With a cock that perfect and neglected right in front of your face, you could hardly resist the temptation to give it a tiny taste.

It wasn't like it was against the rules of your non-hookups with Spencer. He'd ask for explicit pictures twice a week, which you'd happily send for the chance to be sat on his tongue by 10pm that Friday evening, days on which cases landed notwithstanding.

Hotel rooms were very convenient hook up spots, especially the ones with free condoms and tissues on both the nightstand and by the desk chair.

Not that you ever needed condoms, really. You'd never so much as touched Spencer's cock, let alone had it inside you. He was too much of a giver to take something like that from you. His cock was always hard, always visible through his pants, but he was so focused on your pleasure, he didn't care about his own needs being met.

Spencer's tongue was your personal sex toy. You'd fucked his face multiple times, grabbing his hair and forcing his nose into the bristles of hair at the end of your pelvic bone as you ground your cunt into his wet, hot mouth. You'd laid back contentedly and let him peacefully lick and suck slowly for hours on end, cumming multiple times as he explored your sensitive parts.

You'd sat on a chair, legs spread, and let him lap up your cum on his knees, because there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

More than once, you knew, he'd walked away with cum dampening his pants, having enjoyed your moans and taste so much that he'd lost it before really touching you.

But Spencer Reid was being unfair getting you to sit on his face, to look at his big, thick cock atraining through his pants, straight on, and telling you to sit still and enjoy his tongue when all you wanted was to take him as far down your throat as he could get.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you moaned again as he nipped at your clit, tongue flicking it as you felt a familiar burn of stimulation at your core.

You were going to end up roughly fucking his face if you weren't careful. His tongue just felt too good.

You slid your hands down his stomach a bit, landing on his loose pants as you repositioned your knees.

“Spencer, that's it keep going. Good boy, good boy.”

You gripped his pants tightly, using the little bit of tension to help you arch back, pushing more of your ass onto his face than before.

But your arms, already weak from a rough day at work, slipped again pushing his pants down just one more inch until his cock could finally spring loose. You wanted nothing more than to taste it, reaching forward and looking at it intensely as your mouth watered. You didn't get closer than a breath away, as Spencer immediately stopped when your mouth almost achieved its goal.

“Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Spencer mumbled crawling out from underneath you as he scrambled to get his cock back in his pants.

“Spencer-”

“I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I'll-”

“Spencer, slow down. What?”

You'd seen Spencer flushed with desire before, but the redness of his cheeks was different somehow now. More embarrassment than anything else.

Slowly, you crawled towards him again, trying to look as non-threatening as you could, clad only in hastily pushed aside panties and dishevelled dress. Your hand slowly traced up his thigh, and you kept it there, still for a second watching to see what Spencer would do next.

“Spencer. Why can't I see your cock?” You asked, voice low but light, almost surprising yourself with how breathy and needy you sounded.

“I… I thought you wouldn't want to see…” he trailed off, and you pouted up at him, stroking his thigh as he looked down distractedly at you.

“I want to. Can I have it now?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Y/N…. It's… I've had complaints in the past, it's not…” he struggled to find the words as your hand brushed over his crotch now tracing the bulge in his pants as his head dropped backwards.

“It's not what? Big? Don't lie to me.”

“That's not it… I get… I get too overwhelmed if you do that, I get too-”

“Too….” You mimicked, dropping a hand into his underwear as his hand fell over yours, unsure whether it was to stop you or to set the pace of your impromptu hand job.

“Rough,” he said, as you firmly gripped his cock, using your other hand to free him from his pants and underwear, knocking his hand away as you ran your palm along the length of his hard cock.

“Rough?” You said, gripping the tip of his cock, teasing it until it shone with precum.

His hand fell back over yours, more firmly this time, as he met his eyes with yours.

“I didn't want to hurt you, but I get so overwhelmed if I use it that I… I get rough, I don't listen well-”

You were practically dripping listening to his explanations for not fucking you, or even letting you see his cock.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yes! It's like… Y/N, I'd treat you like a sex toy, not a person, and I want this to be good for you, too, so let's not-”

You cut him off with a rough kiss as you pressed him back into the bed, straddling his thighs as you gently fisted his cock, rubbing up and down slowly.

“I'll make a deal with you, Spencer,” you said, between gasps of air. “I'll sit on your face again, and you let me suck your cock. When you get rough, if you get rough, you'll be able to feel how much I'm enjoying it, okay?”

He nodded between kisses, words forming and melting on his tongue as his hips began thrusting into your hand, his thigh digging into your mound as he thrashed towards a climax.

“Good boy,” you said, kissing him one last time before letting go of his cock and climbing out of his lap.

His body twitched in protest, but his big hands grasped you quickly, pulling you up the bed as you eagerly went with them, losing your panties on the way as you let your dress fall around his face in an all too familiar position.

But this time, you lowered yourself down, too, spitting on his tip quickly as his tongue got to work teasing your clit slowly.

You gave him a few pumps, before lowering yourself more completely on his face, pressing your chest close to his abdomen and taking his cock slowly onto your mouth.

Spencer wasn't small, but you also weren't going to let him be a challenge. You got a few inches down before you decided to come back up again, hands still stroking the base and massaging the rest. You did that a few times before you felt Spencer's body angle up into you again.

Changing his leg position on the bed, Spencer thrust his cock up into your mouth as you forced yourself to breathe. His cock thrust up again, quickly but totally and he left it there for a few seconds before pulling it out again.

The entire time, he hadn't let up his work on your cunt. His to guess flattened out against your clit, roughly stroking that sensitive area with a precision only he knew. A hand clasped around your hips, gripping your ass kept you firmly in place on his face, as his hips bucked into you.

He got faster, wilder, and yes, rougher.

You didn't want to pull off his dick, but moving back was instinctual. He pushed you right back in with a hand on your head, fisted into your hair as he synchronised your movements, pulling your head up as he pulled his cock away from your lips, and pushing it back down when his hips snapped up.

You moaned hysterically when you came apart on his face, feeling your cum trickling down your leg as he continued to use you to get off. His to guess never stopped, even after wave after wave of your juices hit him.

The only sign of his impending orgasm was the tightening of his hands, both of them now coming down on your head, forcing you to the base of his sizable cock as your tongue touched his balls. He came down your throat and immediately releases you, spluttering and coughing as your legs trembled.

Spencer scrambled to get you on your back, pushing you upright and patting your back as you regained your breath.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, I said it wasn't a good ide-”

You pushed your cum stained tongue into his mouth, shutting him up quickly as he tasted himself, and you tasted yourself, and your tastes mingled quickly, as you climbed into his lap again.

“Spencer,” you said, catching your breath once again, collapsing into his arms.

“If I need to beg for your cock, I will. I like it rough. I-” you gasped again, feeling his cock stirring with each word.

“I very much like it when you use me like a sex toy. So… so in the future, please use all of me, and I'll use you, too.”

[covenofagatha]

g!p Agatha that cockwarms reader while cuddling on the couch watching TV then gets desperate, gets a pillow under reader's ass to elevate her hips and breed her good to make sure it sticks

Ohhhh

Yes. Just yes. I decided to write a short little thing about this because fuck what a delicious image and I need a break from studying

Touchdowns and teasing

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, breeding kink, cockwarming, sex, mommy kink, american football

The moment you slide down onto Agatha's cock and feel her stretch you out, you know that you're not going to last long.

The two of you are watching a football game, her favorite team against yours, and it's tied going into the fourth quarter. The two of you had been talking smack all day and making bets, and it came to a culmination during a commercial break just a few minutes ago when Agatha suggested that you cockwarm her during the last part and then whoever's team won would get to be on top.

She groans beneath you as your walls squeeze her length and you think she might not make it the quarter either.

You shift, trying to adjust and find a spot that doesn't make you want to cum right away, and Agatha whimpers.

"You're not supposed to move," she says through gritted teeth, arms wrapping around your waist tightly, laying a palm on the bulge she's making in your stomach. She presses slightly and you take a sharp breath.

It's so hard to stay still because she's filling you so deliciously, but also because you can feel her pulsing inside you and you want her to move more than anything else.

Her team scores and she jumps with excitement, and it involuntarily thrusts her cock deeper inside you and you moan and clench down around her even more.

"Fuck," Agatha curses, immediately freezing, and her cock twitches. Eventually, she relaxes and you try to focus on the TV, but all you can think about is how good she feels inside you.

But you're not the only one affected — Agatha's breathing has quickened and her nails are digging into your hips, her cock throbbing inside your wet cunt every so often.

Your team throws an interception and you swear, accidentally lurching forward to throw your arms up incredulously at the screen. Agatha lets out a strangled gasp, hands roughly tightening their hold on you, and her cock seems to swell.

"I can't believe he didn't catch that!" you exclaim, almost forgetting the state that you're in and Agatha breathlessly chuckles.

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your head. "Not looking too good for you," she hums smugly and you roll your eyes.

Agatha and you are both very competitive, and even worse losers.

So if you're not going to win this bet, you're going to at least win something.

You clench your walls tightly around her, eliciting an explicit groan from her, and she bucks up into you uncontrollably.

"Honey," she warns, voice thick and dangerous, and you know she'd wipe the smirk off your face if she could see it.

Slowly starting to rock back and forth ever so slightly, you take immense pleasure in the sounds that start to fall out of her mouth. And then you turn it up a notch. "Mommy, please, I need you," you whine and Agatha jerks up again.

"Stop," she hisses, her cock throbbing again, and you know you've almost got her.

You rise slowly and she lets you — dragging your pussy lips against her cock and she groans when she sees herself glistening with your wetness. "Mommy — fuck, I need you, I need you to breed me," you rasp, making your voice sound as desperate as possible because you know that's the surest way to get her to break.

Agatha growls in your ear and you know that you won.

She pushes you forward, her cock slipping out of you, before she grabs your waist and flips you over onto your back and you get your first look at her since you started the challenge.

Her face is pink, vein prominent in her forehead, and her cock is so messy. You swallow hard in anticipation and she studies you while you watch her cock bob up and down, leaking everywhere.

And then she grabs the couch pillow from behind her and shoves it under your hips and shoves your legs even wider than they were before leaning over and sheathing her cock back inside you.

Both of you groan and she sets a quick pace.

"Gonna breed you, baby, mommy's gonna breed you," she grunts and all you can do is moan, your eyes rolling back in your head, as she fills you perfectly, the elevated angle of your hips allowing her to get even deeper inside you.

You babble something incoherently and your head falls back against the couch, pleasure making your mind spin, and Agatha’s rhythm begins faltering quickly as your walls convulse around her. 

Agatha’s thrusts become short and fast snaps of her hips, driving her cock as far as it reaches into you. “Gonna breed you so good,” she prattles, voice tight and hot, and she leans down to lick a stripe up your neck. You turn your head so she can get better access and she nips at your throat. “Mommy’s gonna fill you up, gonna make sure it sticks.” 

You gasp and roll your hips up to meet her cock and you’re not sure she’s ever been this deep inside you. Her hands grab onto your wrists and pin them up above your head against the couch and she’s right on top of you so you can watch her face contort with how good it feels, just like you’re sure yours is. 

Pleasure is fraying your veins and there are no thoughts left in your head. “Please, mommy, need you to cum inside me,” you beg and she lets out an unrestrained moan, furiously nodding her head. 

“Fuck, your cunt feels so good around me,” she croaks and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she watches you. She’s throbbing and pulsing and you know she’s not going to last much longer. 

Neither are you. “Mommy, I’m so close,” you cry. Agatha is panting above you, a glazed over look in her eyes, and you can’t help but clench at the sight. 

Her breath is pained and sharp and her hips stutter. “Yeah, yes, fuck, mommy’s gonna cum, mama’s gonna cum inside you,” she groans and you swear loudly before pleasure completely overtakes you. 

It’s not even five seconds later that she has her orgasm, stiffening on top of you with a high-pitched keen, before shallowly rutting into you while you feel her cum get pumped into your cunt and paint your walls warm and white. It almost makes you cum again and you continue to ride it out. 

Agatha collapses on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your lips and face while you feel her cock begin to soften inside you. She loves to do this after sex — just keep her cum inside you for as long as she can before she pulls out. 

Cockwarming after she fucks you often goes a lot better than doing it before. 

“Oh, would you look at that?” Agatha muses, glancing up at the TV. You crane your head to look and see that her team is now up by ten points with three minutes left to go. She gives you a soft, little thrust, her cock twitching and slowly beginning to harden again. 

“Mommy,” you gasp, still sensitive. You can feel her cum starting to leak out of you around her cock. 

She smirks and kisses you again, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, making your hips jump. “Shh, baby. Remember, we had a bet. I’m just going to stay right here until the game is over. And then you’re going to take everything I give you, isn’t that right?” 

All you can do is nod and clench around her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[spideyanakin]

she doesn't know (s.b)

summary - sirius black x potter! reader, lily and remus realise you're expecting before you

warnings - fluff, mention of pregnancy, remus and lily being menaces

main masterlist

sirius black masterlist

"Darling, your boobs look amazing," Lily gushed grinning at you with a look you were yet to decipher. She brought her attention back to the cup of tea she was making, but not before sharing a complicit glance with Remus.

"Yeah, your boobs look great," Remus chimed in, pouring milk into his tea.

The startled look on your face made Lily laugh with her chest.

"Thank you?" You raised an eyebrow as you watched them both preoccupy themselves with their respective cuppas.

"I told you, she doesn't know," Lily all but whispered as she leaned towards him.

"Know what?" James tumbled into the kitchen, opening the cupboard and grabbing a packet of biscuits. You watched as he opened it and dug through it before offering one to Remus.

"You know this is my kitchen, James."

"What's yours is mine," he replied with his mouth full, offering you the box. You took one suspiciously before leaning back against the counter. "So," he looked back to his wife. "What does my sister not know?"

"Oh, nothing you should worry about, love," she waved her hand and turned back to Remus with a grin that took her entire face.

"Should we be worried?" James leaned closer to you, raising an eyebrow.

"I have no clue, they've been acting weird and conspiring all morning."

"Do you think Sirius knows?" Lily failed to whisper again. Remus shrugged. "Maybe because of like, you know, how you know." Your scowl deepened at the conversation they were openly having in front of you.

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I don't know how sharp his senses are as human."

"Will you two tell us what you are talking about!"

They looked at you briefly before turning back to each other, "should we tell her?"

"Yes!" you and James both said in unison, making Lily and Remus jump at the sudden raise of tone.

Remus shook his head and turned to Lily, "no, she shouldn't figure it out that way."

"Figure out what?" James spoke for you, just as curious as you to figure out what in the world these two were conspiring.

Lily was grinning like a mad woman, giggling to Remus who wore a cheeky and composed grin as he brought his tea to his lips.

"Come here," Lily grabbed James's arm before dragging him to the other side of the kitchen. She went on her tiptoes, holding onto your brother's shoulder for support as she whispered in his ear.

"No way!" James shrieked, wide eyes as he looked back at you. "I'm going to be an un-"

"Shh!" the redhead abruptly smashed her hand on James's lips to keep him quiet. "I told you, she doesn't know."

"Merlin's beard!" He squealed happily, clapping his hands and jumping up and down. "Does Sirius know?"

"We don't know."

"Do I know what?" As if on cue, Sirius walked into the kitchen, baby Harry happily bouncing on his hip. He walked over to you, a large smile on his lips as he brought you into a kiss.

"What should I be knowing?" Sirius asked you, gentle and warm voice seeping into your ears like honey. He leaned on the counter next to you, and you melted into his side, looping your arm around his arm that wasn't holding Harry.

James couldn't stop grinning at the sight.

"I don't know!" You huffed, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. "They won't tell me!"

"I do love a good marauders secret. Do I already know it?"

"We don't know if you do."

Sirius squinted his eyes at Remus as if he could read his mind and pull the secret out of him by some means of unspoken communication.

Remus seemed to understand, to catch what ever wave length Sirius had sent his way. The werewolf nodded his head, moved his eyes one way, then the other, and nodded again. Sirius replied with a move of his head, and Remus continued with a new subtle movement.

Suddenly, Sirius grinned from ear to ear, not too far from Lily's own.

"You know it’s creepy when you do your mind-reading thing with Remus?"

The arm that wasn't holding onto Harry snaked around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You melted into his embrace with a scowl on your face as you watched the unspoken conversation unfold in front of you.

"Not as creepy as your sibling mind reading with James," Sirius smiled brightly as he pressed a kiss to your hair, looking at you with so much adoration you were left wondering what in the world they were telling each other.

Sirius chuckled in what you knew to be disbelief before turning back to Remus.

"You sure?" He spoke with a smile he couldn't fight off.

"So you know!" Lily jumped up and down, tugging frantically on James's arm.

"Well, I wasn't sure, thought my senses were off, but now that you're confirming it-"

"Holy shit, he knows."

"Knows what!?" You almost screamed, making Sirius chuckle loudly beside you.

"Darling, you're pregnant."

[littlelamy]

Hii! I love your writing. Do you think you could write one where Rafe is a single father of a 4-year-old son and he meets a reader, and then they start a relationship and she meets his son and well, they start being a family? I'd love something like that, thank youuuuu

lamy's note: sorry that this is so late! i hope you like it <3

rafe cameron’s life revolved around his four-year-old son, oliver. The little boy was his entire world, a bright spot in the sometimes chaotic life of a single father. mornings were a blur of packing lunches and tying shoelaces, evenings a mix of storytime and sleepy cuddles. it was a rhythm rafe had gotten used to, even if it left little time for himself.

one rainy afternoon, rafe and oliver ducked into a cozy little café to escape the downpour. oliver clutched his favorite dinosaur toy, his small hand wrapped tightly around rafe's fingers. the warm atmosphere welcomed them, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around them like a comforting hug. they found a table near the window, where oliver could watch the raindrops race down the glass.

as rafe settled into his seat, his eyes drifted across the room and landed on you. you were seated a few tables away, engrossed in a book, your fingers playing absently with your hair. there was something about you—maybe the peaceful way you seemed lost in your own world—that caught his attention. it had been a long time since he had felt that pull, the quiet intrigue of wanting to know someone.

oliver’s voice pulled him back. "daddy, can I have a cookie?"

"after lunch, buddy," rafe replied, ruffling his son’s hair. "let’s get something to eat first."

when the barista brought their sandwiches and a small cookie for oliver, rafe took the chance to glance your way again. to his surprise, you were looking back, a soft smile on your lips. it was enough to stir something inside him, a quiet encouragement to make a move he hadn’t considered in a long while.

gathering his nerve, rafe stood and walked over to your table, oliver trailing behind him. “hi,” he said, his voice warm but a bit unsure. “do you mind if we sit here? my son has a lot to say about dinosaurs, and i’d love a little adult conversation.”

your smile widened as you nodded. “of course. I could use some dinosaur facts myself.”

as rafe and oliver settled into seats across from you, the conversation flowed easily. rafe learned that you were new in town, working as a teacher at the local elementary school. you asked about his work and how he managed to juggle everything as a single parent. there was a natural chemistry, an ease in the way you spoke, the laughter that bubbled up between shared stories.

oliver, ever the chatterbox, quickly took a liking to you. he proudly showed off his toy, launching into an animated explanation of why the t-rex was the king of dinosaurs. you listened with genuine interest, your enthusiasm making oliver beam with pride.

by the time the rain had stopped, it felt as though you’d known each other much longer than just a single afternoon. before you left, rafe asked for your number, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “maybe we could do this again sometime? without the rain.”

you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect.

in the weeks that followed, the two of you saw more of each other. rafe would pick you up after work, oliver bouncing in the back seat, eager to share his day. dinners turned into outings at the park, where oliver’s giggles echoed through the playground, rafe's hand finding yours as you watched him play. the three of you fit together seamlessly, like a puzzle you hadn’t known was missing a piece.

one evening, after oliver had been tucked into bed, rafe invited you to stay for a late-night movie. the living room was cozy, the soft glow of the tv casting shadows on the walls. you sat close, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, the quiet intimacy of the moment stretching between you.

when the movie ended, neither of you moved, the silence filled with unspoken words. rafe turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "i've really missed this," he said softly. "having someone to share my life with. i'm glad it's with you"

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "me too."

the kiss that followed was tender, a slow, gentle meeting of lips that spoke of more than just attraction—it was a promise of what could be. as you leaned into him, the weight of loneliness lifted, replaced by the warmth of a growing love.

in the months that followed, you became a part of their lives in every way. weekends were spent building blanket forts with oliver, evenings filled with quiet moments on the couch, your laughter mingling with rafe’s as you recounted the day’s events.

the day oliver called you "mommy" for the first time, your heart swelled with emotion. rafe squeezed your hand, his eyes shining with gratitude and love.

you were no longer just a visitor in their lives. you were family, a bond formed through shared moments, love, and the quiet understanding that together, you had built something beautiful.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[lazysoulwriter]

What Love is Supposed to Feel Like. - Pedro Pascal.

requested! hope u really like it. and remember: to be loved is to be respected.

The film set was buzzing with quiet activity as the crew prepared for the next scene. You sat in a chair off to the side, scrolling through your phone mindlessly, until a notification lit up the screen.

Your stomach dropped. It was a DM—from him.

"I cheated on you two times and you keep coming back. Do I need to do it a third time for you to develop some self-respect?"

A sharp inhale caught in your throat. Your hands trembled as you stared at the message, disbelief warring with the dull ache of betrayal. You thought you had gotten past this. Thought that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But no. He had done it again. And this time, he was mocking you for staying.

"Hey."

Pedro's voice was warm, gentle. You hadn't noticed him approaching, but now he crouched down beside you, his eyes flicking between your face and the phone in your grip. "What’s going on?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words lodged in your throat. Tears blurred your vision as you exhaled shakily. Without thinking, you handed him the phone. He read the message, and the softness in his expression hardened into something else. Anger. Concern.

"You don’t deserve this," he murmured, setting your phone down on the table next to you. His hand found yours, grounding you. "You hear me? No one deserves this. Especially not you."

A tear slipped down your cheek. Pedro sighed, squeezing your hand before tugging you into a hug. It wasn’t rushed or awkward—just warm and steady, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. Like safety.

"He's an asshole," Pedro muttered into your hair. "And I swear, if I ever see him—"

A watery laugh escaped you. "You’d fight my ex for me?"

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation, pulling back just enough to look at you. "But more importantly, I’d remind you every day that you deserve better."

Months later, you realized just how right he was.

You sat curled up on Pedro’s couch, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders as the soft hum of music filled the space. He absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm, his touch soothing and familiar. The past felt like a distant memory, a chapter closed.

"You seem happy," he mused, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You turned to him, heart swelling at the warmth in his gaze. "I am."

His smile was slow, teasing. "Think it has anything to do with me?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny it. "Maybe just a little."

Pedro chuckled, his fingers tilting your chin up before kissing you—slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world to remind you how loved you were.

And for the first time in a long time, you knew you had found something real.

One evening, as you both sat on the balcony of his apartment, watching the city lights twinkle below, he turned to you with a serious expression. "Do you ever think about him anymore?"

You sighed, looking out at the skyline. "Not in the way I used to. There were nights where I’d lie awake, wondering what I did wrong. Why I wasn’t enough. But now... now I know it was never about me. It was about him. His choices. His flaws. Not mine."

Pedro nodded, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. "I’m glad you see that. Because you are more than enough. And anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you."

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. They were from gratitude. Happiness. You leaned into him, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. "Thank you," you whispered.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "For what?"

"For showing me what love is supposed to feel like."

Pedro's arms tightened around you. "Anytime, mi amor. Anytime."

[olderwomenenthusiast]

jealousy & confessions (spencer reid)

PAIRING: spencer reid & fem reader DESCRIPTION: you speak to jj about your jealousy and in return, encourages you to confront spencer CAUTION: jealousy, self-doubt WORD COUNT: 3.1k

The bullpen is buzzing with activity, and you’re trying to bury yourself in your work, hoping the overwhelming sense of insecurity and jealousy will subside. It doesn’t, though. Not when Spencer is still laughing with Julia - or Jules, as he’s started calling her now, the nickname rolling off his tongue with an ease that makes something inside of you snap. You know it’s irrational, but you can’t help it. She’s like a mirror image of him: sharp, witty, awkward in the same charming way, and she’s here, effortlessly sliding into his world. The way they talk to each other, the way he listens to her, it’s like something you’ve always wanted, but never dared to ask for.

Spencer’s eyes light up when she speaks, and you feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper. You can’t help but think: What does she have that I don’t?

She’s leaning in, gesturing to a case file, and Spencer’s nodding along, his gaze locked on her with that familiar intensity. You can feel your own eyes narrowing, watching them from the corner of your desk, trying not to stare too obviously. There’s something about the way she moves, the way she speaks, like she gets him. Maybe better than you ever could.

The tension in your chest grows with every passing moment, the quiet ache turning to frustration. Spencer looks up from the file for a moment, catching your eye. He offers a quick smile, polite, but distracted. The same smile he gives when he’s trying to be kind, but you know his focus is elsewhere. You don’t know why it hits you so hard. You’re just friends, right? ... Right?

Julia catches your gaze and raises an eyebrow, an almost knowing smile on her face, like she’s aware of the quiet storm brewing in you, as if she acted this way on purpose. But before you can process what that means, she turns to Spencer, nudging him lightly. “Hey, I should head out. Got an early shift at the lab tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to be late.” She laughs, and Spencer laughs with her, but there’s a sudden shift in the air; like something unspoken passes between them before she grabs her things and heads for the door.

You feel a sense of relief, almost as if you were holding your breath this whole time. But then it hits you. Now what? Now that she’s gone, you have no excuse to hide behind. Spencer turns back to his desk, his attention momentarily lost in the case files again. The knot in your chest tightens, the unease swirling in your stomach like a storm that refuses to pass.

JJ, who had been keeping a careful eye on you from across the room, notices the shift. She walks over, her expression soft but knowing. “You good?” she asks, leaning against your desk.

You try to brush it off, focusing on the paperwork in front of you. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

“Uh-huh,” JJ hums, crossing her arms. “I don’t think that’s it. I’ve seen that look before.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

You glance up at her, unable to keep the frustration from your face. “What look?”

“The one where you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re jealous,” she says, her voice a little teasing but full of concern. “It’s written all over your face. You know you’re allowed to feel that, right?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s not that simple, JJ. It’s just… she-” You cut yourself off, not sure how to explain it, or even if you should.

JJ doesn’t let you off the hook, though. “Spencer is your friend, and he always will be. But I think you know it’s more than that, right? You’re just scared to admit it to him… or to yourself.”

You look away, avoiding her eyes, because the truth stings more than you want it to. You don’t want to deal with it. It’s easier to keep it buried, to pretend like your feelings for Spencer are just a little crush, something that’ll pass. But deep down, you know better. You know it’s not that simple.

“Why is it so hard to just tell him how I feel?” you murmur, almost to yourself.

JJ’s expression softens, and she places a hand gently on your shoulder. “Because you’re scared of what it’ll mean. Scared of what will happen if you’re honest with him. But you can’t keep hiding, not forever. If you don’t tell him, you’ll just keep torturing yourself like this. And believe me, I know how much it sucks to keep things in when you’re this close to someone.”

You want to argue, to make a joke, to pretend it doesn’t matter, but it’s impossible. The tightness in your chest, the ache of longing that you’ve pushed down for so long, can’t be ignored anymore. Spencer and the way he’s always been there for you, the way he understands things about you no one else does; it’s hard to ignore the depth of what you feel for him.

“Okay,” you finally say, the word coming out more as a whisper than you intended. “I’ll do it.”

JJ gives you a small smile, squeezing your shoulder. “You’ve got this. Just be honest with him, okay? Spencer deserves to know what’s really going on with you.”

You nod, feeling a mixture of dread and hope swirling inside you. You don’t know how Spencer will react, or even if he feels the same way, but you know one thing for sure: You can’t keep living like this, hiding behind your own feelings.

As the room settles back into its usual rhythm, you turn your attention back to Spencer, who is sitting at his desk, typing away, his back to you. You know the moment has to come soon. You just hope you can find the courage to say the words before it’s too late.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The case demands attention, but your mind is constantly circling back to Spencer. You feel like you're walking around with a thousand thoughts bouncing inside your head, none of them settled or organized. And with every minute that passes, your resolve grows weaker. You know you need to talk to him. If you don’t, you’ll just keep spinning in place, and nothing will ever change.

The team disperses for lunch, and you find yourself standing by the door of the bullpen, staring at Spencer’s desk. He’s engrossed in his work, completely unaware of the storm brewing just behind you. JJ’s words echo in your mind, giving you the push you need. You’ve got this. Just be honest with him. It’s the hardest thing in the world, but it’s also the only thing that will ever give you peace.

Taking a deep breath, you walk over to Spencer’s desk. Your heart beats faster with every step, but you can’t turn back now. When you reach him, he doesn’t notice immediately, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. You hesitate for a moment, but then you speak, your voice quieter than you want it to be.

“Spencer.”

He looks up, blinking as he adjusts his glasses. There’s that warm smile of his, the one that makes your heart stumble in your chest. “Hey. What’s up?”

For a moment, you don’t know how to begin. You feel like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at something you’ve been avoiding for so long. “I… I need to talk to you. About something.”

Spencer frowns, concern flickering in his eyes. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

You swallow hard, feeling your stomach twist. You think of Julia and how easy it was for her to slip into Spencer’s world, how she’s already got that effortless connection with him. How much it hurts. How much it makes you question everything about your own relationship with him. “It’s about… you and Julia,” you say, your voice faltering slightly.

Spencer’s brow furrows in confusion. “Julia? What about her?”

The question stirs up something hot in your chest, a mix of jealousy and frustration, and it spills out before you can stop it. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I guess I’m jealous of her.” The words feel foreign, even to your own ears, but they’re out now, and there’s no taking them back. “You two… you seem to get along so easily. You talk about everything so effortlessly, and you smile at her in a way you don’t smile at me. I just… I don’t know, it makes me feel like I don’t belong here, like I’m not enough.”

Spencer blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by the admission. He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, the floodgates opening now that the words are coming. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s more than that. I don’t even know how to explain it, but when I see you with her, it’s like I’m invisible. And I don’t even know why it hurts this much. It doesn’t make sense, Spencer. I don’t make sense.” You’re rambling now, your breath coming faster, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t know how to feel about this. I didn’t ask for these feelings, but now… now I’m just so scared that you’ll want to be friends with her, maybe something more, and it's not me.”

There’s a long pause, and you wish you could disappear, wish you could take it all back and bury it inside where it belongs. But Spencer’s gaze is soft, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he leans back in his chair, setting his pen down slowly, his eyes studying you carefully. It made you nervous.

“First of all,” he begins, his voice steady but gentle, “You’re not invisible to me. You never have been. I know I’m… not great at showing it sometimes, but I care about you. A lot.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “And I get it. I know I don’t always make things clear, and maybe I should have been more aware of how you might be feeling, but I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough.”

You swallow hard, unsure whether to look at him or not, your chest tight with a mixture of relief and anxiety. “Then why… why do you act like that with her?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “She seems to have everything you want. She’s like you, but… better, I guess.”

Spencer shifts in his seat, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t know what it looks like from the outside, but I don’t want to be around someone just because they’re like me. That’s not what matters. What matters is how someone makes me feel and how I feel when I’m with them. And I feel things with you, things I’ve never been able to put into words, but they’re there. I promise you that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words soft but hitting you like a thunderclap. You blink, trying to steady yourself, trying to process what he’s saying. “I don’t know what to do with that,” you say, your voice trembling.

Spencer leans forward, his eyes earnest. “You don’t have to do anything with it right now. But I need you to understand that my relationship with Julia doesn’t change how I feel about you. Nothing changes that.”

You’re silent for a moment, absorbing his words, letting them wrap around you like a lifeline. The weight of your jealousy, your frustration, starts to loosen its grip on you. You’re not invisible. Spencer doesn’t want to push you aside for someone else. Maybe you’ve been afraid of your own feelings for so long that you never allowed yourself to admit how much he means to you.

“I guess I’ve just been scared,” you admit quietly, your voice small. “Scared that if I said anything, it would ruin what we have. But I don’t want to lose you, Spencer.”

You couldn't.

He gives you a small, soft smile, his eyes full of something you can’t quite name. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here.”

The words hang in the air between you, full of promise, full of things left unsaid, but for now, it’s enough. You’ve finally said what you needed to say. And Spencer? Spencer is here, his presence unwavering, offering you more than you ever thought you could have.

The silence stretches between the two of you after his reassurance, and the air feels charged in a way you don’t quite know how to handle. Spencer is still leaning forward, his gaze never wavering from yours, but there’s a certain tension in his posture now, like he’s unsure of something, something important? maybe.

You can feel your pulse quicken, the sudden awareness of him making your stomach flip. For a moment, it’s as if everything else fades away, and all that’s left is the two of you. His vulnerability, the honesty in his eyes, it’s almost too much to process.

“So…” Spencer clears his throat, shifting in his chair slightly. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, and his eyes flicker down, then back up to meet yours. “I… I guess, um, what I’m trying to say is… you know, after everything we’ve talked about… Maybe we should… do something. You know. Outside of work?”

His voice trails off, and you feel the awkwardness radiating off of him in waves. He’s still trying to find his footing, his usual calm demeanor slipping just a bit. Your heart flutters, but it’s mixed with nerves, you’ve never seen him this unsure of himself before. Not in the way that makes him stumble over his words, not like this.

“Like what?” you ask, voice almost a whisper, unsure if you’re even interpreting this right. Is he… is he asking what I think he’s asking?

Spencer hesitates, glancing away for a moment as if trying to find the right words. He shifts in his seat again, looking at the table for a moment before looking back at you, his face slightly flushed. “Like, a… a date. Maybe? If you… if you’re okay with that. I mean, I’m not... I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. But I think, after everything we’ve talked about, I… I just wanted to, you know, be honest with you. And maybe… I don’t know, it might help us… figure things out. Together.”

The words tumble out in a rush, and Spencer looks almost apologetic, his hands twitching in his lap like he’s not sure what to do with them. The awkwardness is almost endearing, but it also makes your heart swell with a mix of affection and relief. He’s not perfect, and neither are you, but maybe that’s exactly what makes this moment feel so real.

You blink a few times, processing what he just said. “A date?” you repeat, your voice sounding a little breathless.

Spencer nods, his gaze shifting to the side briefly before coming back to you. “Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. I just - I thought maybe, after everything that’s happened, we could… I don’t know, try something new. Together.” He repeats.

You feel something shift inside of you, like a weight lifting, replaced by a warmth that spreads through you, calming the nervousness that had built up in your chest. Spencer’s asking you out. For real. And despite how nervous he is, despite the awkwardness, you can feel the sincerity in his words, and that makes it all the more meaningful.

You take a deep breath, smiling a little, and you finally nod. “I’d like that,” you say softly, your voice steady but full of something deeper, something more. “I’d really like that, Spencer.”

A slow smile tugs at his lips, the kind that makes your heart skip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, your voice more confident this time.

Spencer leans back in his chair, his relief palpable. His eyes light up, and he chuckles, a nervous but happy sound. “Okay. Well, um… when would work for you?” He’s still fumbling a bit, but it’s sweet, endearing, even. “I mean, we could go somewhere low-key, like a coffee shop. Or, uh, dinner? Something not too fancy…”

You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound easy now. “A coffee shop sounds perfect,” you say, feeling the tension finally ease, like a dam breaking. “How about this weekend?”

Spencer’s smile widens, his eyes lighting up as his earlier nerves give way to genuine happiness. “This weekend sounds great. It’s a date, then.”

The words hit you with a rush of warmth, and for a moment, you both just stand there, taking it all in. The awkwardness is still there, lingering in the air, but now it feels different. Now, it feels like a new beginning. The tension that had built up over the past hours slowly fades, replaced with something lighter, something that makes your heart flutter in a way you’re still trying to understand.

Spencer stands up suddenly, the movement swift but almost shy, like he’s unsure of what to do next. He takes a small step toward you, and before you can even process what’s happening, he leans in just enough to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. It’s soft, tentative, but the warmth of it spreads through you, making your heart race all over again.

You freeze for a second, your pulse skipping, and Spencer pulls back, his face a little flushed, his lips curling into a small but genuine smile. “I’ll see you this weekend,” he says, almost like he’s confirming it for himself.

You nod, still a little dazed, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your own lips. “I’ll be there,” you say, your voice steady, but underneath it, there’s a nervous excitement you can’t quite hide.

As you turn to head back to your desk, trying to get your bearings, you catch sight of JJ, who’s been watching from a distance. She’s leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin on her face. Her eyes meet yours, and she gives you a sly thumbs-up. It’s subtle, but you know exactly what she’s doing, and it makes you blush despite yourself.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile that stretches across your face. JJ’s approval is exactly what you needed to feel that much more confident about what just happened. You sit back down at your desk, your thoughts racing, and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels just right. Spencer’s words linger in your mind, and the small kiss on your cheek is a promise of something more to come.

And as you glance back at him across the room, you can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the weekend, for what might unfold between you and Spencer, now that the walls are finally coming down.

[luveline]

Jade can we get hotch and his daughter again I miss them!!!!!

You’ll confess to liking your father’s new apartment. It’s well-furnished and warm. It’s nothing like the house, though. You can hardly tell anyone lives here when you aren’t putting your laundry bag by the washer-dryer to go in next, the bedroom especially untouched. You suspect your father lives out of his wardrobe and go-bag, as it’s called. 

Different to the house. You’re always welcome. No strange silences pervade when you come knocking —if Aaron’s home, he opens the door already having pulled the chain lock down to let you in, and, despite his apparent stress and budding depression, he asks you what you need. 

How was school? How’s your studying coming along? Did you find a potential grad outfit yet? Did you need a check for that? 

It’s too much, sometimes, but not because you don’t want it. 

You hesitate at the door. From inside, you can hear the barest hum of the TV. Maybe he’s actually relaxing for once. Maybe you should leave poor Aaron alone. 

You’re selfish. “Dad?” you ask, letting some excitement colour your voice, “Hello! Are you napping?” 

It’s gotta be five quick seconds before the doors being pulled open. “Hey, sweetheart,” he croaks, all tired eyes and rumpled pajamas as he stands aside. You dodge his arm, laughing at his disgruntled groan. “You can go home if this is what I have to deal with.” 

You let him close the door and lock it before you turn back to him. “Tell me you weren’t just sleeping on the couch? I thought we had a few more years.” 

“I was asleep in bed.” 

“You got to the door super fast.” 

“I was getting up. We got home late,” —he drags a hand over his face— “and I didn’t sleep on the jet. Let me go get dressed and we’ll go for breakfast.” He checks his watch. “Uh, dinner.” 

“Or we could order in?” 

He sighs in relief. “Or we’ll order in. Good idea.” 

You don’t comment as he steps past you to the couch. You’ve missed your opportunity for a hug. It’s your own fault for dodging the first one. 

You slip out of your shoes and leave them neatly by the door, hanging your jacket on the hook, and your sweater on the back of the couch. He holds up a hand as you sit down on the couch and you take it for what it is, a beckoning to sit near enough for him to hold your shoulder. “Alright?” he asks, touching the side of your face with his knuckles briefly, before leaving you to your personal space. “You look tired. I don’t mean that unkindly. How have you been sleeping?”

“You’re the third person to tell me that today, but I don’t feel tired.” 

“Maybe you just need something to eat,” he says. “Pass me the phone, honey, I’ll call for us.” 

He calls. You listen to him talk. You love how polite he is to everyone and especially people who work jobs like you did. Despite his titles and expertise, he doesn’t condescend. He says thank you twice. And he orders all your favourites, so you have to give him double the credit for being observant. 

You slip a ways down into your seat and look Aaron over. To no one’s surprise, having a father who cares about you is easy work for the heart. Your life is changed. He’s good, and you like being around him, but it’s a funny thing to look at this man you’ve known for a year and to know you love him. He really is everything you ever wanted, as a kid. He isn’t picking you up from sleepovers or rubbing your back when you cry, but you’re sure he’d do both of those things if asked. You like that you can come here without asking. You like that he doesn’t care why.

He doesn’t look young, exactly, but he doesn’t look quite old enough yet to have a daughter your age. He could be a coworker. The thought makes you huff. 

“What?” he asks, already smiling. 

“Just thinking about something.” 

“About what?” 

“You’re not as young as you look.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Right, right, I forget that you come here to insult me. You know, Jack told me I was getting more ‘crinkles’ the other day.” 

“Kids say the darndest things,” you tease lightly. 

“I’m not old.” 

“I said you’re not as young as you look, that means you’re doing well.” 

“I think I look right for my age,” he says contritely, but grinning, tipping his head back against a cushion. “It’s good to look your age. It’s a privilege to be old.” 

“I thought you weren’t.” 

“I’m not. I’m just saying… I’m lucky to be here still,” he says, giving you a nudge, “or I wouldn’t know my girl, would I?” 

“And sappy in your old age.” 

“Mm.” He grabs the remote, turning the TV onto a movie channel and upping the volume. “Unfortunately.” 

You turn into him and let your knees touch. You watch TV waiting for your dinner to arrive in companionable silence, not tired but worn, not bored but somehow restless. You wonder if wanting a hug off your dad when you haven’t had very many is wrong of you. But the thing is —is that he really feels like your dad. Just the way he talks to you cements it. Sometimes when you’re with him, you feel like a kid again.

When he touched the side of your face and told you that you looked tired, it felt like a compliment, somehow, the signals all crossed in your head, ‘cos it was nice to be cared for. 

“Dad?” you ask quietly. 

Aaron turns his gaze to yours, not bothering to square away his joy at being called such a thing. “What, honey?” 

“Do you think… would it be really weird if I asked for a hug?” you ask shyly. Heat floods your cheeks and nose, but he doesn’t laugh. 

“Come here,” he says, sitting up a touch, arm extended for you to fold under. He wraps you in, lets you slouch into his touch just like Jack does in those slices of time after dinner and before bed. “Not weird. I mean, you’re a big girl,” —he laughs— “but I don’t think there’s an age limit.” 

“I know that. Just don’t know if you want to.” 

If he sees you wringing your fingers, he ignores it. “Why wouldn’t I want to?” He settles back on the couch, pulling you a little to make sure you go with him. Not like Jack laying bodily atop him, but still a nice hug. 

“Don’t know.” 

You both sort of know why. You’re old. You’re not supposed to want this stuff. You should find it too awkward and the time for affection has passed. And yet. 

He hums softly. “I love you, honey.” 

You know, but it’s nice to be told. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” 

He doesn’t begrudge the way you put it, sinking again into the couch, his eyes looking heavy with some contentness, but mostly fatigue. “Don’t let me fall asleep before the food gets here,” he says.

“You got it, boss.” 

He gives your shoulder a rough, dad-like squeeze. You laugh and squirm away. After a few seconds apart, he shuffles you back toward him. 

“Is it hard?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“Finishing the year out. Getting ready for your exams. The bar. Is it stressing you out? You can be all caught up on sleep and still exhausted, I’d know.” 

“Yeah, it is. Yeah, but it’s just a few more months. I can do it.” 

“I know you can do it, baby,” he says, drawing your attention from the TV, “that's not in question.” 

His voice is soft like a strip of velvet. You’ve stopped being surprised at his propensity for gentleness, but you don’t always know what to do in the face of it. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just studying.” 

“Okay, so stay the night, the guest rooms calling your name, and tomorrow morning we’ll just study.” 

“Do you even remember–”

“Don’t insult me.” 

“It’s a lot.” 

“I remember. I used to drive Haley mad.” He goes quiet for a bit. Two or three seconds where you know he’s thinking about their separation. “But I couldn’t have done it without her. It’s hard work, committing it all to memory, we can make more flash cards.” 

“That would be nice.” 

“Not exactly helping you with your math homework.” 

“Are you any good at it?” 

“Math?” He laughs. “Not anymore.” 

“You forget all that stuff, right? I knew we would.” 

“Yeah, you do. I had to get rid of all that stuff to make room for work.” 

“Oh, so it was on purpose?” 

“I’ll ignore what you’re implying. I’m gonna eat all the poppadoms when they get here, but I’ll ignore it.” 

“Sick.” 

He shrugs. 

“I’ll tell Jack.” 

“Oh, don’t. If your brother knows we had butter chicken without him he’ll throw a fit.” 

“We can save him some.” 

Aaron lets his face rest on the back of the couch. “Good idea.” 

“Aaron, don’t sleep.” 

He grins. “I’m not. I’m resting my eyes.” 

Ridiculous. “Is it… Can you have Jack tomorrow?” 

“I don’t know. She doesn’t really like it that I’m only having him on the weekends. She says she gets all the hard parts and I have all the fun.” 

You don’t know what to say. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true.” 

“Yeah. Thing is, I can’t say sure, I’ll have him Sunday through to Wednesday because I never know if they’re gonna send me somewhere with the team. I can’t even confidently take him on the weekend. I can’t promise I’ll be here.” 

“I know.” 

He squints at you. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You give him a rueful smile. “What are you sorry to me for?” 

“It’s not just Jack I’m letting down.” 

“You haven’t let me down,” you say, practicing some of his softness. “Maybe you have let Jack down, I don’t know, I’m not Jack, but so long as you’re trying to do well by him, I think that’s probably enough. You… you and Haley, you’re not sure what’s happening.” You don’t like telling him he and Haley have a happy ending, because everything he’s told you so far doesn’t agree, but you don’t wanna kick him while he’s down either. “It’s okay to need time to like, get things straight. You have the apartment, you have the guest room, you’re offering to have him when you can. You do have to make the effort, but you know that already.” 

“I know, but thanks, honey. You’ve listened to too much of my whining.” 

“You listen to me whine all the time.” 

He squeezes you to him. “I love listening to you.” 

“I don’t mind listening to you, either.” 

“The horrors of adulthood, listening to your deadbeat dad complain.” 

“Shut up, you’re not a deadbeat. You’re stressing me out.” 

“Sorry.” He rubs your arm again and lets you loose. “Oh, sweetheart, I got your snacks, if you’re hungry. They’re in the cabinet by the fridge.” 

“I can wait.” 

He sighs very deeply. You’re sure he’s gonna nod off, but he forces himself to stand. “Thank you for coming over. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“What, the sad bachelor thing?” You giggle to yourself as he stands up. “Where are you going? I’m just kidding.” 

“I’m getting your snacks.” 

You turn on the couch to watch him. He unveils a bunch of your favourite things from the cabinet. You can see Jack’s fruit snacks, his yogurt covered raisins, and it gives you a chest ache thinking about Aaron all alone this weekend. “You know I do love you, right?” you ask carefully. 

He comes back, looking super tired but not so sad. “I know. I’m the luckiest man alive if I have you and your brother, you know that?” 

“Okay.” 

Aaron laughs, dropping your candies in your lap with a thunk. He got the big bag. “Okay. Tuck into those, and I’ll go see about your bother coming over tomorrow. Did you have pajamas in the laundry?”

“Uh…” 

“I’ll look.” 

You did not wanna get up. “Thanks!” you say, cracking open your bag of candy with a smile, missing the fond look he throws your way from behind. 

[0xstarzx0]

NDA: Sleeping with Rafe was easy until you caught feelings. Unfortunately, you were married with kids, but let’s be honest, that was never going to stop the great Rafe Cameron.

+18

People would never understand.

William was a good man—wealthy, kind, affectionate. He had given you beautiful children, cherished you, loved you in every way a husband was supposed to.

So why did you cheat on him?

William was gentle, patient, and attentive, but you weren’t in love with him. The only reason you stayed was for your children, to give them the stability of a present, devoted father.

The first time you and Rafe slept together, it was a mistake. A drunken night that spiraled into something reckless, something forbidden.

It just happened.

You weren’t happy—not romantically, not sexually, not truly—and Rafe was the only man who made you feel like more than just a wife, more than just a mother. With him, you felt alive.

Yet, you had sworn to yourself that it wouldn’t happen again.

And now, here you were, standing in his dimly lit living room at 9 PM. Just the two of you.

“Rafe, I don’t want this anymore.”

He turned to face you, eyebrows knitting together as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“Did I miss something?” he asked, his voice calm, indifferent, like this conversation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

You stepped in front of him, refusing to be intimidated by his height, by his presence.

“I love my husband. I love my kids. I have everything I could ever want,” you argued, trying to convince him—trying to convince yourself.

Rafe took a slow sip of his drink, eyes locked on you, unreadable. Then, he simply nodded.

“Alright.”

That was it. No fight, no plea. Just alright.

Your heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t what you expected. You had prepared for an argument, for persuasion, for the inevitable temptation. But not this.

“Okay,” you whispered, grabbing your things.

And then, just as you turned, he caught your wrist. Before you could react, his lips brushed against yours—just for a second. A mere ghost of a kiss.

You froze.

He pulled away, waiting. Watching.

And then, before you could think, before you could stop yourself—you crashed into him.

Rafe manages to stabilize you in a few seconds, his lips moving desperately against yours, damn it, is this what they call "love"?

He buries his head in your neck and you moan, his hands gripping your ass tightly, his breathing heavy against your neck.

"You're going to leave your husband and come spend the rest of your days with me." He carries you to his sofa and pushes you against it, you pull him in by tugging on the collar of his shirt.

"And you know why you'll do it?" He tears your tights, eliciting a loud moan from you. "Because you're completely crazy about me."

"Go to hell Rafe!" You moan, he laughs and pulls your panties to the side without warning, he thrusts deep inside you. You feel your body shake with pleasure. He curses under his breath as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, deepening the angle. "Say it," he growls, his hands digging into your thighs. "Say you'll leave him." You whimper, your nails clawing at his back. "N-no,"

He pushes harder, your pussy feeling so good around him—it's better than it was with William. "Fuck, you're so tight," he grunts, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. You gasp, your head tossing side to side on the sofa.

He leans down, his teeth grazing your neck. "You're so fuck up f’me, whether you admit it or not," he hisses. "Your body knows it, even if your heart doesn't." His fingers find your clit, circling it firmly. "Come on, baby. Give in."

Tears stream down your face from overwhelming pleasure as Rafe chuckles. He laughs because he knows that William has never had you like this—completely at his mercy, your body surrendering utterly. 

"That's it, sweetheart," Rafe purrs, feeling your pussy clench tightly around him.

"God!.." he groans, his pace quickening. "You make me lose control." He swallows hard, then asks darkly, "Are you on the pill?" You freeze beneath him. " Answer me," he growls, "Before I put a baby in you."

you bite your lip hard and scratch his back.

"Say it," he demands, his hands gripping your hips possessively. "Say you don't care if I knock you up right now." He pulls out slightly, teasing his tip at your entrance. "Say it, and I'll do it."

"I don't care if you put a baby in me Rafe Cameron. I just want you to do it." You look Rafe straight in the eyes, there's no ounce of doubt or hesitation, only love, love that has been repressed for far too long.

His eyes darken dangerously at your words, raw emotion flashing across his face. "Fuck," he mutters, then drives into you hard and deep, each thrust deliberate. "You realize what you're saying? That you want..." He breaks off, his voice becoming thick. "My baby."

"Say it again," he demands roughly, his body shaking above you. "That you'll carry my baby, that you'll be the mother of my children." He pants, his face contorted with emotion.

You remove your legs from his shoulders and cradle his face in your soft hands. "I'll be the mother of your children." You smile, your eyes starting to fill with tears. "I'll be the mother of your children." Rafe laughs, a hint of sincerity, and kisses you deeply.

For the first time in his life, Rafe felt like he had found the right one—and he had no intention of ruining it.

[allfearstofallto]

"Aren't you Going to Finish That Thought?"

Wanderer x Fem! Reader

Pure fluff, hurt and comfort

AN: Super super self indulgent fic. Just something I needed as a D1 yapper

“And when you dig the hole, it has to be very shallow, because the roots continue to grow down faster than-” you stop yourself, a hint of embarrassment on your face. You're talking too much. Again. Blabbing on and on about something or other that no one cares about, filling the silence with your annoying voice.

You always talked to Wanderer. You'd seek him out wherever he went just to sit and chat with him. Although, chatting meant he'd actually respond, he never said much back. Instead he'd have his nose in his book or his eyes focused on what was happening out the window, typically it was the sunset. You felt your heart sink at the realization. He was ignoring you. Telling you that you were bothering him with actions rather than words.

“You talk so much,”

“Don't you ever shut up?”

“Not everything needs to be said,”

You mentally cringed at the words that suddenly filled your brain. All things that'd been said to you, all things that people you considered friends or loved ones thought about you. They could say it as a quip or with a playful smile on their faces, but you know that every joke has a bit of truth behind it. They meant it, even subconsciously. And maybe he felt the same way.

You silenced yourself. That familiar lump was forming in your throat, the one that meant you'd possibly cry if prodded the wrong way.

“Aren't you going to finish that thought?” Wanderer had finally looked up from his book. Pretty blue eyes now focused on you with a questioning gaze. His words startled you, seeing as he only spoke so often. You assumed he was being sarcastic again, but he wasn't wearing that smirk that he always did when saying something snarky. He truly meant it.

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to give him a weak smile that wasn't very convincing at downplaying your sudden lack of confidence, “I just- thought I was talking too much,” words spoken with a bit of sorrow behind them. Stammered out forcefully while you still resisted the urge to cry.

“Who said that?” His question had a bit of a bite behind it. A touch of anger in it. For a moment, you feared that he was angry at you, but his eyes had a certain softness to them when he looked upon your face.

“I don't know. Everyone?”

He clicked his tongue, “Am I everyone?”

“I don't-”

Wanderer cut you off before you could finish a self deprecating thought, “I was listening. I'm always listening. Don't you think I would've told you if you were bothering me?”

“I thought you were just being nice?”

“When have I ever been nice?” he asked, but there was a softness to his voice that you realized only you had ever got the pleasure of hearing. Whenever you eavesdropped in him speaking to anyone else, he sounded annoyed, furious even that they'd dare approach him. But never with you.

His question makes your heart beat quicken and your eyes foggy with tears. You shrugged, shook your head, but didn't say anything else. You couldn't. Unless he wanted to console you as you sobbed.

“Now finish what you were saying. About the flowers, right?” Wanderer tried to mask that softness in his voice by sounding butter again, but you could hear through it.

With a laugh, you started up again, watching as his eyes fell onto his book. If you looked closely, really really closely, you could see a little smile playing at his lips.

[hazymoonlinh]

Special ring

A draft I have saved for a whole month bruh

Pure fluff

(Phainon x reader)

In conclusion, he bites you.

The two of you were sitting under a tree on a quiet evening, the battlefield far behind for now. Phainon leaned back against the trunk, the sun painting golden hues on his face as he looked at you. There was a calmness to the air, a stillness that begged for conversation to fill it.

Out of nowhere, he asked, “What’s your take on marriage? And love?”

You blinked, a little startled by the question. “That’s…random,” you said, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

Phainon chuckled lightly. “Is it? I’m just curious.”

You rested your chin on your knees, the breeze tugging at your hair. “Hm…I don’t know,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “I don’t think I really trust it.”

That response caught his attention. His brows furrowed, his playful demeanor replaced with genuine curiosity. “You don’t trust it? Why’s that?”

You stared at the ground, your fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. “Well…because I grew up in an environment where marriage wasn’t about love. It was a transaction. A way to trade power, secure alliances, or gain something. Most of the marriages I saw didn’t have love in them at all.”

Phainon’s expression softened, though there was a flicker of surprise in his blue eyes. He stayed silent, letting you continue.

“It’s like…love wasn’t part of the equation at all.”

You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the open air. “So…I guess I just don’t think I’ll ever have love. And I don’t think anyone would ever love me.”

Phainon’s eyes went wide at that. He sat up straighter, his full attention on you now. “Huh? Why would you think that? You could always try, you know that, right?”

You looked away, embarrassed by his sincerity. “I…haizz…I seriously don’t know. Maybe I’m scared.”

“You think you’re unlovable?” he continued, his voice softening. “Well, you’re wrong. If anything, you’re one of the most lovable people I’ve ever met. You’re kind, brave, and—hell, you’ve put yourself on the line for people who don’t even deserve it. You’ve got a heart bigger than most, even if you’re scared to show it.”

Your breath hitched, his words cutting through the doubts you’d carried for so long.

“And as for marriage or love?” he added, his signature grin finally returning. “Well, if you don’t trust it, I’ll just have to convince you otherwise, won’t I?”

You stared at him, stunned by his confidence and warmth. He smirked at your reaction, leaning back against the tree again. “So, what do you say? Give love a chance, duckling?”

For the first time in a long time, you felt a small flicker of hope. You nodded, the tiniest smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

“Good,” Phainon said with a wink. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Phainon’s grin turned mischievous as he took your hands in his, holding them as though they were the most delicate things in the world. You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his mood, and before you could question it, he brought your hand to his lips.

The soft press of his kiss on your knuckles sent a jolt through you, your breath catching. But then—without warning—he popped your ring finger into his mouth.

Your eyes widened as his teeth grazed against your skin, the sensation both strange and electrifying. He bit down just enough to leave a faint mark, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. His playful smirk grew as he pulled your hand back.

“This’ll do it for now,” he murmured, his voice a low hum.

You gawked at him, completely frozen, but he wasn’t done. In one swift motion, he tugged you closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Before I find the perfect ring for you.”

Your brain short-circuited. Words failed you as a deep flush spread across your cheeks. “W-w-what? A ring? What are you talking about? You can’t just—what—Phainon!”

He leaned back, his expression utterly smug as he watched you stumble over your words. “Hmm? Something wrong, duckling? You’re looking a little…red.”

“Red? I’m not—no, you—you can’t just say things like that!” You clutched your hand to your chest, staring at the faint mark he’d left as if it were glowing. “A ring? Are you serious? Are you joking? What does this even mean?!”

Phainon chuckled, reaching out to gently tug at a strand of your hair. “Oh, I’m very serious. But don’t worry—I’ll give you time to process. I wouldn’t want you fainting on me.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but that only seemed to amuse him further.

“Take your time, love,” he added with a wink. “We’ve got forever.” And he gives you a peck on your cheek.

[cressidagrey]

Schrodinger's... Girlfriend? - Chapter 9: Of Bombshells and Big Disclosures

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Original Character

Summary:

Oscar Piastri’s love life is the talk of the F1 world—mainly because no one’s ever seen his girlfriend. Does she exist? Or is she just a figment of his imagination? Detective Lando Norris to the rescue!

Warnings: 

I don't think there are any?

“How did you even manage this?” Oscar asked her, as he lead her back to the McLaren Garage. “I thought you were going to write another final next week.”

“So did I,” Vanessa said with a snort. “Until the professor figured out that he got the date wrong on the syllabus…I wrote it on Friday already.”

It had been quite annoying, because orginally...Monday had been supposed to be the date...And that had messed up her study planning... but oh well.

 If she was only going to get a 94 instead of a 99, she was going to survive it. 

“So I thought…hey…I can make it to the race…2 hours later I had a flight booked," she told Oscar with a grin. Like there had been anything that would have stopped her from finally getting to see her boyfriend race from somewhere else other than the comfort of her couch.

Oscar squeezed her hand tightly.  “Thank you for coming,” he told her and she squeezed his hand right back.

“So, show me where the magic happens,” she teased him.

The next ten minutes was an absolute whirlwind of introductions around the McLaren garage, between engineers, strategists and mechanics, before Oscar pulled her into his driver’s room.

She had seen a lot of these throughout the last months, though she had always been on the other end of a facetime call.

Oscar closed the door behind them and grinned as Nessie looked around the room, eyes darting around the place, taking in his suit and helmet on the desk, before her gaze landed back on him and there was a sparkle in her eyes. She stepped closer to him and his arm wrapped around her back, tugging her closer against his chest.

“You have no idea how good it feels to have you here in person,” he murmured, his hands sliding down her sides, pulling her even closer against him.

She hummed softly as her head leaned against his shoulder, her face nuzzling against his neck. “Maybe I have a little bit of an idea,” she murmured against the skin, her lips brushing against his neck. “But it’s definitely much better than watching you through a screen.”

His hands slid beneath her top and onto her bare skin, fingertips drawing lazy circled onto the small of her back. “Much better,” he agreed with a low groan, one hand going up to grab the back of her head and tilt her face upwards for a proper kiss.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling into the soft curls at the nape of his neck when she stepped as close to him as she could get. She sighed softly against his lips when they parted for a breath before she kissed him again, lips opening eagerly to deepen the kiss.

God, she had missed him.

Her hands slid down his chest, her fingers tracing his muscles through the thin fabric of his polo shirt. There was no doubt in his mind that he had missed her just as badly as she had missed him.

She pulled back, slightly breathless. “So how long until the race?” she asked him.

“Another 2 hours or so,” Oscar answered, chasing her lips for another kiss. “Lando is probably busy taking a nap right about now, otherwise he would have already come out screaming about you being real after all.”

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "He still thinks I am some sort of elaborate joke?” Vanessa asked curiously.

Oscar just sighed. “Who knows what is going on in that head of his,” he said with a long suffering sigh. “But I do know that he will absolutely flip out, when he sees you in person.”

“Can’t wait to see his face," she told him, her mouth already curving up into a smile just picturing the scenario that was about to unfold as soon as Lando found out about the fact that she was actually there in person. 

And Nessie got to see that earlier than they both thought.

A few minutes later, she sat cross legged in the corner of the sofa, while Oscar was shifting through stuff on his desk… And in walked Lando Norris, without even bothering to knock...or glance in her direction. His mind was clearly focused on whatever racing question he had for Oscar. “Osc, I’ve been thinking-”

Vanessa couldn’t help it. She leaned back against the sofa, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Lando,” she said, her voice cool and calm, “you don’t seriously still believe I’m not real, right?”

Lando froze in place, mid-sentence, eyes wide as he whipped around, scanning the room in disbelief. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His gaze landed on Vanessa, and it was as if the world stopped.

The high-pitched noise that came out of his mouth was enough to make Oscar nearly drop the stack of paper in hands in shock. Vanessa couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, because that had been exactly the reaction she had hoped for.

“AHHHHHH!” Lando screamed, stumbling backward in shock. “WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Surprise," Vanessa said with a grin, her voice filled with amusement, clearly enjoying the absolute shock on Lando's face.

In one swift movement, Lando collided with a chair, falling backward into it with such force that it tipped over. He scrambled to his feet, half-hysterical, his voice rising in panic. “OH MY GOD, SHE’S REAL! SHE’S REAL!”

Watching Lando flail about like that was enough to send Vanessa into hysterical giggles, and she was pretty sure that the sound of her giggling was only adding to Lando’s already panicked state.

Oscar, on the other hand, had slumped against his desk, his entire body shaking with laughter at the sight of Lando, absolutely losing it over Vanessa’s existence.

“Lando, I told you she exists,” Oscar finally said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Lando practically scrambled towards him, grabbing onto his arm and shaking it as if his life depending on it. “She’s right THERE,” he shrieked, pointing at Vanessa frantically. “SHE IS!”

Vanessa couldn’t help another fit of giggles. “I am, indeed,” she said in a calm voice, still leaning back in the sofa, clearly enjoying herself.

Lando gaped at her, his eyes wide with astonishment, before whipping his head around to fix Oscar with a look that was a mix between shock and disbelief. “Why the hell is she here?”

Oscar couldn’t help but burst out laughing again. “What do you think? To see me.”

Lando spluttered, still clinging onto Oscar’s arm, his mouth working soundlessly. “But she’s— she’s—” he sputtered out, unable to finish a single sentence as his gaze wandered from Oscar to Vanessa and back, his mind clearly at war with what he was seeing.

“A living, breathing human being,” Vanessa filled in, her voice dripping with amusement. “Not a white whale...not a mannequin...not imaginary either."

Lando let out a strangled cry, his grip on Oscar’s arm tightening, as if he was afraid she was going to vanish into thin air any second now. "You’ve been dating her...this whole time...and she is just…here?” he managed to sputter out.

Oscar snorted, clearly enjoying Lando’s reaction a bit too much. “See? I told you I wasn’t messing with you. You really should’ve believed in the ‘white whale,’ mate.”

Lando, now starting to laugh at himself as the tension eased, shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve never been more embarrassed in my entire life. I screamed when I saw you. I thought I was going to pass out.”

Vanessa chuckled, crossing her arms as she shook her head. “You’re not the first person to be a little shocked by me.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Lando replied, finally getting to his feet, his face flushed from the whole ordeal. “I’m just... still processing it.”

Oscar clapped him on the shoulder, his grin widening. “No worries, mate. Just be glad you didn’t faint or something. That would’ve been a bit more embarrassing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando muttered, rolling his eyes but still laughing. “I’ll never hear the end of this, will I?”

“You’re going to hear it forever,” Oscar said with a grin.

“Oh, absolutely,” Vanessa joined in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “This is prime material for future jokes and jabs."

Lando groaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. “You two are going to be the death of me, you know that, right?”

"Oh, come on, Lando," Oscar said, his tone almost mockingly cheerful. "We're just keeping you on your toes. It's all in good fun, mate."

"It's very nice to meet you though," Vanessa said brightly. "I have heard a lot about you, Lando."

Lando's expression turned from one of mock despair to a genuine smile at her words. "Yeah, likewise," he replied, his voice still tinged with a hint of sheepishness. "Sorry about, you know, the whole..." he trailed off, waving.

"Making the whole internet think I didn't exist or that I was Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster?" she asked drily. "Don't worry, I found it quite amusing."

Lando winced with an embarrassed grin, his cheeks flushing once more. "Yeah, that," he admitted sheepishly. "It was all a bit ridiculous."

She shrugged, a bemused smile playing at the edges of her lips. “I’ll admit, it was rather funny seeing everyone online debating my existence."

[uracutieraka]

Bakugo Katsuki who finally gets a date with his support course crush!

find part one here!

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Bakugo Katsuki started acting completely different after he met you. His once perfect (to his standards at least) reputation was now ruined. The reason? Midoriya's cute support course friend.

Ever since you waltzed over to him with your sweet smile, and oh so pretty eyes, he finds himself nearly bewitched by you. It was driving him absolutely insane!

What was even more insane though, was watching this all unfold from and outside perspective.

Denki found himself nearly throwing up anytime you were even brought up in front of his friend, not because he thought you were gross, in fact it was the opposite. He found how down bad Bakugo was for you down right disturbing.

The normally mean and arrogant man seemed to do a 180° personality change when you came around, or even got mentioned in passing.

Denki especially hated it when you had now found yourself a regular member of their little lunch table. It just meant 40 minutes of watching Bakugo mindlessly nod his head with a glazed over look in his eyes, every. time. you. spoke.

"Gross." Denki says aloud as he bites into his sandwich. Eyes squinting as he watches the two of you like a hawk.

Sero looks over at his electric friend with a knowing smirk.

"You are so jealous Kaminari."

"Am not!"

The ruckus on the other side of the booth has you and Bakugo breaking away from your vicious flirting to study the source of the commotion.

His friends are sitting across from you arguing back and forth as Kirishima continues eating as if all was normal.

"Is everything okay?"

The boys now look over at the sound of the worried voice to see you. You have a concerned look on your face as you dart your eyes back and forth between them.

Denki looks over at his friend to see what his reaction will be to the boys interrupting you and him. To his dismay, bakugo has that stupid dopey smile on his face as he watched your every move.

Ok so maybe Denki was slightly jealous, but like, who wouldn't be? You were pretty and obviously attentive, smart but not arrogant, and worst of all, you liked Bakugo of all people.

Maybe he wouldn't be so upset at the situation if you liked Kirishima or literally anyone but the brooding Blond. It's not that he didn't want his friend to be happy, it's just that he didn't want him to get a girlfriend before he could.

So yeah maybe he was a bit jealous, but it wasn't that crazy.

Sero is quick to tell you everything is fine and to go back to what you were doing and you're quick to flash him a smile and nod of acknowledgment before turning back to the boy you were originally sat over here for.

You watch from the corners of your eyes as his friends go back to arguing but this time they're whisper yelling at each-other. You yet again lean slightly past Bakugo to see the red head sat behind him.

Kirishima only takes his eyes up from his tray of food when he hears his name being said. He looks up with a mouth full of food at the sound of your voice in his ears.

He takes a moment to hurriedly chew his food and swallow before responding.

"So, I was thinking, what if we just added some horns to your head gear instead of you always having to style your hair?"

Bakugo watched you interact with his classmates and feels himself pout a bit at the lack of attention.

You quickly glance at him through your peripheral vision and can see his bottom lip poking out as his eyebrows are furrowed together.

You decide to leans ever so slightly closer to the side of him so your knees are no longer the only parts of you touching.

He flushes and you feel him take a deep breath once your hip and leg is completely flush with his.

You now use your hand on his upper arm to support yourself as you look at Kirishima.

You and Kirishima share a few ideas back and forth with each other about the schematics of his hero costume.

You only end it when you see Bakugo roll his eyes.

You're quick to check your watch and stand up to excuse yourself.

Bakugo feels himself grow disappointed at the idea, a sad frown crossing his face to prove it.

You shoot him that intoxicating smile and ask him if he'd like to walk you to class.

"It's just awfully far and the walk is so boring by myself."

Bakugo yet again giggles at the invite and cleans up his lunch. He take the tray from your hands and you silently laugh at the way he puffs out his chest when you thank him and call him a gentleman.

Once he properly disposes of the trays you grab his wrist and quickly make your exit from the crowded area. He allows himself to be dragged off by you with a wide smile and soft eyes, chuckle bubbling out of him at your eagerness to leave.

If you told Bakugo a month ago that he'd be acting like one of those corny shojou manga guys he probably would've tried to fight you, but here he is now. Eyes never leaving the back of you as you lead him through the vast halls of UA.

After a few minutes of walking you slow down and drop his wrist, coming instead to stand at his side. He's kind of sad at the loss of contact with you but its quickly dissipated when you lean into him and nudge him slightly with your shoulder.

He looks down at you with a smile on his face and you give him the same expression as you two continue dow the halls towards your classroom.

Before the two of you turn down the hallways to your class, you stop him and lean your back on the wall.

He gives you a suspicious look and you tuck you hair behind your ear before talking.

"I don't want my teacher to see us yet.," a dry laugh comes from you before you decide it's best if you maybe actually looked at him while taking. He swears he can feel his heart stop (ifykyk) when you look back at him with a blush on your face and big doe eyes.

"I just wanted to say that I think you're super cute and wanted to know if you were maybe free tonight?"

He can feel his chest tighten at your words and he inhales at the sudden pit of anxiety in his abdomen.

He was free tonight, as he was most nights anyways.

"Yeah, are you?" He cringes internally at the dumb question, obviously you were. You wouldn't be asking him if you were busy. He feels a sense of relief when your siren like giggle swims around in head, ringing in his ears.

"Actually, I'm pretty busy tonight. I'm hanging out with this guy later then have some work to do on his friends costumes." You're tone is flat and he takes you seriously.

You watch as heartbreak over takes his face.

You playfully scoff and swat his chest.

"I'm talking about you Katsuki!" Another heavenly laugh graces his ears and he almost cries tears of joy from the sound alone.

"Oh." He says, heat creeping up his neck and ears as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

"Pick me up at my dorm at 7:30?"

Normally, if you were anyone else, he would shut them down with s 'no' and the fact he goes to bed at 8 p.m. sharp every night. Though he quickly hears a desperate 'yes' tumble out his mouth before he can say anything else.

"Perfect!" You say, standing on your tippy toes to lean up and give him a soft peck on his cheek, something you had been doing since the day you met him. Though today you wore lipstick, something you normally skipped due to the inconvenience of it.

The dark red color stains his skin and you giggle before turning and walking off to class. The bell chimes and you turn around to holler at him.

"You have 10 minutes before you're supposed to be on the training course by the way Kacchan!" a mischievous smile tugs its way on your face as you wink and blow him a kiss before disappearing into your classroom.

He watches you with a fascinated look before he fully registers your words.

'Shit.' He thinks before bolting off to his class.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

"You're late Bakugo." Aizawa dead pans as he walks up to the rest of his class on the platform.

He rolls his eyes and goes to respond before he's cut off again.

"Hey, what's on your face?" Midoriya asks, pointing to his cheek.

A few other students crowd him to get a look at the mysterious red mark.

"Is that a lipstick stain! What were you and that support course girl doing?!" Mineta pipes up.

Bakugo goes to hit him but is stopped when Mina goes to wipe it off.

He shoots himself up into the air and away from all of them.

They all watch in shock at his quick reflexes.

"Don't touch me idiot!"

Mina rolls her eyes and finally Denki chimes in.

"Bakugo, dude, get a grip it's just makeup."

Him and Denki ended up fighting so bad that he has to call you with the other boy to explain that he'll be there at 8 to pick you up instead, due to the fact him and Denki had to help Aizawa grade papers and clean the dorm showers as punishment for the disruption in class.

You giggle when he finally does come around to get you later that night. He has his hands shoved into his pockets and a nervous look on his face that seems to subside when you come out the front door and yet again leave a small kiss to the side of his face. He swears that you must have secret powers because of the way he gets so flustered anytime you even just breathe in his direction.

He hadn't heard the end of it in weeks, his friends constantly making fun of him for his rapid change in behavior. He didn't care though, which he even found weird himself, though he would never admit that to anyone.

He admires your cleaned up appearance, though he found it cute when you had your hair thrown up messily and grease stains on your face from whatever project you were currently working on in class.

"So, Katsuki," The sound of his actual name causes his ears to perk up and another woozy smile to sit on his face. "There's something that I want to show you."

You reach out and place your hand gently on his shoulder and run it down his arm, fingers lazily intertwining with his. You study how he reacts to your touch. You would be lying if you said you didn't throughly enjoy watching the notoriously angry man fold underneath the slightest bit of attention from you.

Though, you also can't help how it seems like your brain just turns off when you talk to him, a ditzy side of you that you didn't even know existed seeps out of you. It's like you can't help yourself. The desire to see that lovesick grin cover his face is all consuming.

You watch as he eventually gives you a few slow nods, showing you his approval to seeing whatever it is you want to show him. His eyes never leave where your hand is connected with his.

He thinks that this is probably the most amount of affection he's ever shown or accepted for anything.

You two walk in silence as you lead him to the school building, only when you scan a card to get in does he stand firm in his place with a weary look on his face. You turn back with a small frown at his solid stance.

"What's wrong?"

"Why are we at the school?"

You let go of him and turn around with and eyeball and a sigh, he knows it's just you poking fun at him due to the way the corners of your lips twitch up a bit as you speak.

"I don't know if you know this but support course students have 24 hour access to the school."

He in fact did not know this. You watch as his face contorts in confusion so you explain why as you rescan your ID card and open the door for him.

"Well for starters, our teacher is always here. He practically lives in the work room." He watches as a small snort leaves your body at the idea of your teacher living at school. "And it's also hard to stop us from working on our projects outside of class. The principle decided it was best to give us full access after a students dorm almost caught on fire when he plugged in his power saw." You continue to mindlessly ramble about how dumb he was for even attempting to do something like that in a small dorm, and how it's frustrating to have to walk all the way here in the middle of the night just to tinker around with small gadgets you could work on in bed.

He doesn't really hear anything you're saying though as his eyes are focused on the way your lips move and eyes seem to glimmer in the florescent lighting of the school halls.

He now fully takes in the way your hair is neatly styled and laid over your shoulders, and the way you have makeup on. He feels a since of pride at the idea of you getting all dolled up just for him to see. Though he quickly feels his knees buckle when you suddenly stop and push yourself up to him and wrap your arms around his neck before giving him a quick hug.

When you pull away you turn your head in an attempt to shy away from his gaze before you start talking to him.

He watches as you mess with the hem of your awfully short summer dress.

His face flushes at the way he can't tear his eyes off where the hem of the dress sways around your thighs.

You finally stop your gentle swaying and take a deep breath.

It's only when the flowy material stops moving completely that he looks back at you, he has to take in a harsh breath at how you look.

Sure you had looked at him head on before, and sometimes you had even bit your lips and blinked up at him! But this? This was something else. You had a wavering smile on your face as your cheeks were now full blown red. For once you were the overly flustered one.

"So uhm, Katsuki, I've been working on this for a couple weeks, and uhm, I'm really nervous to show you," You give him and awkward close eyed smile as you wipe your hands on the sides of your dress, because of this you miss the way he physically swoons at how adorable you look right now. "and it's not like its super amazing or anything! So don't make fun of me, okay?"

"No promises." A cheeky grin now hung on his face, it's the most confident you've seen him act around you, but like always it's cut short by you laughing and rejoining your hands to keep pulling him to your classroom.

You open the door and cringe at how squeaky it is. You turn back and put your finger up to your lip, signaling for him to be quiet.

"Mr. Majima?" Your voice chirps and echos through the metal work shop.

Bakugo wonders who you're calling out for.

He looks around the space, eyeing all the different things in wonder. He's shocked he's never been down here before. He looks back when he hears a loud crashing noise and sees someone pop around the corner.

"Oh! Y/n! Hi! I see you brought your, what'dya call him? Oh that's right! Your friend boy." A teasing tone is laced in the young teachers tone as you loudly groan and flick a lose nail up at the metal gear on his head.

"Bakugo Katsuki!," The teacher he now knows is Power Loader makes his way over to the blond. He watches as the man walks around him and inspects him a bit. Mumbling under his breath. He now turns back to you. "Interesting."

Bakugo feels like a bug getting crushed under someones foot at the choice of words.

"Whatever, Higari. Why don't you go tell my dad about how you nearly blew me up this morning with your stupid new invention." An eye roll and scoff has the older man backing off. Mumbling under his breath about how you were a spoiled brat.

Bakugo watches as he quickly leaves from the way you two had just entered.

"So you know him personally?" His voice holds a slight tremble at the new idea of how completely alone you two were.

You dryly chuckle and begin digging around, what he assumes, is your work station.

"Yeah, him and my dad have been friends since like forever ago. He's actually the one who convinced me to come here to UA. My top pick was a sister school in America."

Bakugo takes in the new information and stores it in his brain under a big fat file with your name on it.

"Wow," he shoves his hands back deep in his pockets. "America? That's far." He wants to slam his face into the wall for being so awkward.

You let out a frustrated huff before turning back to him with a laugh.

"Yeah it is!," you pout your lip out and tap your chin for a moment, lost in thought. "That means I wouldn't have met you! I guess staying has some perks." You send him a small smile before your more focused and frustrated scowl causes your brows to furrow close together, turning back to searching for whatever you had been looking for to begin with.

His eyes scan over the papers lazily tacked and stuck to your wall.

Sketches of Kirishima's costume are laid at the top of all papers. He steps forward to get a better look as you continue throwing drawers open and rummaging through them.

He slides the papers over and now realizes you had sketches of most of his friends costumes, with notes about what you could take away and add. He smiles softly before his eyes catch on a paper tucked underneath all your other ones. He sneakily glances at you through the corners of his eyes to make sure you're still preoccupied. His hand quickly shoves the paper to the side and double checks you didn't hear.

When he's 100% positive you're still busy he allows himself to fully look down. He feels his eyes get wide as he's greeted with the image.

Heat rushes up in his face as his eyes scan over it. Your name is scrawled all over it, but that's not what has him all giddy inside. His last name is written so prettily next to it. He thought his last name was so simple and boring but seeing it like this. In your handwriting? He's convinced it's the most beautiful name ever written, ever.

You stand up quickly and he jumps away from the desk, like he had gotten caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

Your eyes quickly fall onto where he was just standing looking down at, and widen. Heat shooting all over your body in embarrassment.

You jump over and shove papers around to cover it up.

You're apologizing to him frantically, but he doesn't care. He's looking at you like you just hung the stars up in the sky. The idea of you sitting there and doodling that over and over again yet again bring a cocky since of pride over him.

He takes the moment of clarity to show his true self a bit.

"So? Y/n Bakugo, huh?" He sees you deflate in on yourself and he suddenly feels bad for teasing you. He stutters in his head before deciding to say something else.

"It, uhm, it's a good fit." He was definitely going to make Kirishima punch him in the face later.

He watches as you now tilt your head and give him a confused stare.

"Our names...together..."

Oh my god why is he so nervous?

He watches as you bring your hands up to cover your mouth as you stifle a laugh. After a moment of fighting it you finally let it out. He watching with curious eyes until you stop and look at him, now putting your hands on your hips and standing up straighter.

"This is so awkward." The remnants of a chuckle slowly die down after you're done talking.

He feels slightly relieved at the fact you think so too, and that you also were nervous.

Bakugo hadn't spoked much since you met him, which always perplexed you for a few reasons.

He was known for being a loud and obnoxious student.

He was extremely talkative over text.

And lastly, he just overall seemed like the type to like hearing himself talk.

You hummed and motion for him to follow you. As you're walking you begin talking again.

"Ok, so like I said, you can't make fun of me for this, it's not my best work but I can always tinker with it later."

He's so busy looking around that he doesn't see you stop, causing himself to bump into you slightly.

He lets a sorry out under his breath as he goes to stand you up straight.

You tell him its okay before telling him to close his eyes.

"Why?" You can tell he's unsure about this but he reluctantly does it anyways when you tell him he'll see in a moment.

You walk around and place your hands on his shoulders guiding him forward a few feet. He feels cold when you let go of him.

He listens as you rummage around for a moment, he pokes his eye open but you're quick to run over and put your hands over them.

"Hey! No peaking!" You slightly uncover his eyes by sliding your fingers open. He has them screwed shut now.

You pull away from him and continue setting up.

"Okay!" You chirp out after a moment. He opens his eyes hesitantly.

He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on a pile of fabric neatly folded on a table.

"Well, aren't you gonna look at it?" You use your arms to motion between him and the present.

He walk towards it, slowly and unsure. You sigh and step forward, extending your hand out to him. He takes it with no hesitation. You guide him to stand over what he now notices as the base for his costume.

He gives you wide eyes.

"Is this..." His voice trails off as he brings his fingers to run over the soft material.

"Yep! A completely new type of fabric that's never been invented before!"

He was looking between you and the clothes in awe and shock. Did you really go out of your way to do this for him?

You clear your throat and begin to tell him about the process.

"So basically it's completely flame resistant while simultaneously feeling like 100% cotton. It also traps the sweat on your skin in the arm area, since that's how your quirk functions."

He had mentioned a brief complaint about the material of his costume to you in passing while you two were texting after his training one day.

He hated the feel of the current flame proof material that the support company had provided for him. It was stiff and itchy. But he couldn't wear his regular cotton shirts due to the fact they burned right up when he used his quirk.

"Oh and also.." You reach behind you and pull out a box, it's wrapped in cute pink wrapping paper with unicorns on it. He chuckles at the girly design as he grabs It out of your extended hands.

"Sorry, it was the only kind I had on hand." You shrug slightly and he laughs quietly and nods 'no'

"It's cute, very you."

You blush at the idea of him perceiving you enough to think something was 'very you'.

He stares at it for a moment.

"Open it." You whisper and he briefly flickers his eyes up at you. You have a soft smile on your face but your eyes are bright and excited.

He's gentle opening it. Using a quick finger to slide under the tape and carefully pull the paper off. You think it's cute the way he's so delicate and coordinated. He slides the top of the box off and can feel a familiar lump in the back of his throat, he's quick to swallow it down and look back up at you.

"Did you seriously make this? By hand? With your own brain?" You laugh at his boyish excitement.

You teasingly tap your temple and spout off a witty remark.

"All me baby. 100% the real thing too."

He looks back down in the box. They don't look like anything exciting or crazy but they were in fact the opposite.

To anyone else they would look like regular earplugs, but to you and him they were the invention that could potentially save his hearing in the long run.

"They tune out loud explosions, and any smaller ones. There's a small bracelet like band in the long sleeve I made you that can detect the size and estimated impact of an explosion by the temperature of heat that radiates on your body therefore calculating important information that then gets sent to the earphones to effectively muffle the sounds of the blasts."

You're so beautiful when you talk smart.

His eyes widen as he realizes he said that out loud and not in his head. For the nth time tonight alone he feels his face flush in embarrassment.

You stop your rambling as you turn to look at him.

"What?" Your voice is sweet and a teasing smile plays at your mouth.

He decides that if there was anytime to stand his ground it was now, but as he goes to talk the words seem to suddenly be stolen straight out of his mouth. You had taken his moment of weakness to close the distance between the two of you. Your hands wrapping around both of his biceps, giving them a slight squeeze as you push your face up into his.

"You think i'm beautiful?" Your voice is in a low whisper as you look at him with hooded eyes.

He stutters over his words at the proximity.

"Y-yeah," he take a deep breath. "of course I do."

You let out a quiet titter and lean in. Pressing a quick and chaste kiss to his mouth.

You pull back quickly though, because the doors reopen.

You both look across the large room to see a few of your classmates with your teacher.

"Aha! So you are with Bakugo Katsuki!" An accusatory finger points at you as your friend yells across the room at you.

Bakugo looks at you and you give him a nervous shrug.

"I told her that I wasn't seeing you tonight," you drop your voice low and lean over with a hand covering your mouth. "She doesn't like you because of what you said at the sports festival that one time."

He internally kicks himself for being such a douchebag back then.

"Whatever!," You shout back, making your way towards the man that was hidden behind your three friends. "Higari! You seriously went and snitched on me?" He watches as you stomp towards your dads friend with an annoyed look.

The man is quick to shuffle even closer behind the small wall of your friends, a sign of fear.

Bakugo chuckles as he looks back down to the box in his hands, then over to the clothes on the table. He now realized he had a new life goal, one that was far more important than becoming the number one hero. Bakugo Katsuki was going to marry you one day.

[nymphaea-blue]

How would Rafayel be as your lover?

Info : 700+ word count, inspired by Radiant Halo - tender moments, fluff, slight mentions of possessive Rafayel, reader wears makeup.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would not hesitate to spend money on you, he has more than enough. He would take you on expensive dates, buy you designer clothes (or design some for you himself) and buy you gifts on a weekly basis because he can, and he is more than happy to spoil you a little.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would often help you with your makeup and clothing. He knows how to do makeup, so all you need to do is ask and he will do it with no hesitation. It's an intimate moment, one would think, with how Rafayel always looks at you when he does your makeup and helps you get ready. It's a small, domestic action but he truly cares about your comfort and he wants you to shine as brightly as possible.

“Try not to blink, cutie. We don’t want you to look like you have a blackeye the entire evening, right?” Rafayel teased you as he did your eye makeup. You were used to doing your makeup on your own, but this is a feeling you were slowly growing accustomed to as well. “Okay. Open up your eyes for me, I need to see if your eyeliner is symmetrical.” And you did as he asked, but your face immediately flushed as you noticed how close to your face he was and you couldn’t help but admire him. His face carried his signature smile that you adored and his eyes stared at you with so much love as they looked around your face, so focused on the task but also focused on you as a whole. You didn’t know you were staring until he spoke again. “It looks pretty symmetrical to me, come on, let’s go… Whatcha staring at, hm?” 

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would paint you many, many times. Most of the pieces are in his home, those are the ones that are more detailed or show your precious moments spent together, he loves to look at them and cherish how you look. A few rare paintings of you would be in galleries for others to watch, especially during his big exhibitions. Those ones are just mere representations of you, still painted with love but a mist of secrets as well, you aren't shown in full detail but everyone knows it's you. None of the pieces showcasing you ever get sold, no matter how much they want to pay for it. He wouldn't be able to deal with it if someone could just stare at you all day, you are just his after all.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would protect you. He hired you as his bodyguard but with time, he finds himself doing that job more often. No matter how small it is, if you get uncomfortable or are in danger he will be by your side - no questions asked. He would fight for you, if he had to. Those hands aren’t just for art after all, they are perfect for holding you after a rough moment as well, and they can deliver punches too if someone dares to even try to get their hands on you without your permission.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would have a whole room cleared for you in his home, just in case you would like to move in. Of course, if you are comfortable you are more than welcome to sleep in his room, the bed is big enough anyways and if not - then after a while of being dramatic he can sleep on the couch… or in the bathtub, for some reason.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel as your lover would be such a gentleman. He always opens the doors for you, no matter if you are entering a restaurant or just sitting down in the passenger seat of his luxurious car. He will gently take off your coat and hang it on the back of your chair, alongside your purse which he will happily carry later if your shoulder starts hurting. Whenever he wants to ask you for a dance, he will offer you a hand first with a polite “May I?”. Whenever you are out during a more serious occasion, he has everything you might need in his car or nearby - a change of shoes, bandaids, your makeup essentials, as well as a matching coat or something to cover you up if you get cold. He might not always act seriously and his demeanor can be playful, but when it comes to love, he does it right and it’s clear with the way he acts around you as if you are the most precious thing in the world, because to him - you are.