#we’ll see what the finale brings

[kittyjieunie]

i caved (started working on a multi-chapter modern au oshamir fic😖)

[the-woman-upstairs]

Daniel taking more of a backseat during this session is, IMO, not only in deference to what is a highly traumatic memory for Louis, but also a calculated move on his part that speaks to the longer game he’s trying to play. He wants to take down Armand and remembering San Francisco just made it a real personal vendetta. But Armand can deflect Daniel’s blunt provocations (or at least suppress his reaction to them) pretty easily so that’s not going to work. Armand’s only weakness at this point in time is Louis. So it’s not only essential that Daniel stay on Louis’ good side, but also carefully nudge Louis to seeing the darker side to and duplicitous nature of Armand’s actions. This has already proven to work for him: at the end of episode 5, Daniel, in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, calmly led Louis to the conclusion he already reached about what (who) happened to both their memories. He’s indeed very careful all throughout the recollection of the trial to not be too flippant or interject too often. But when he does, outside of a few exceptions, he deliberately calls attention to Armand: his position in the narrative, the scope of his actions, emphasizing what he failed to do. It’s not quite enough to completely turn Louis against Armand, but seeds have been planted and I don’t believe it will take much more nudging from Daniel to send it all over the edge.

[harmonizewithechoes]

My five year old has his very first day of kindergarten tomorrow 🥺🥺🥺 I didn’t expect to be hit with such a huge wave of emotions but I’ve been a WRECK all day

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 24: I Must Apologise

prev - chapter 1

Sitting in solitude on a desk a hundred times his size wasn't really how Hosah had planned to spend his days, but, lately, it's how he ended up.

There was something up with Teddy, that was for certain. Something on his mind, something that distracted him from what he should be putting all of his focus and attention onto- which, of course, was the shifter himself. It was unbelievably frustrating having to fight to be noticed by the man who was quite literally hired to assist him. Hosah couldn't help but feel sour the rest of the day, even when Teddy had returned, it was like he wasn't even there anyway with how distant he seemed.

The height difference was one thing, when the shifter was this small, he felt significantly further away from everyone else, even if it meant he could get objectively up close and personal as he lounged in their hands or on their shoulders. In order to be close to someone, Hosah had to be able to wrap his arms around them, intertwine fingers with eachother. Being tiny was no good for any of that.

He'd never particularly yearned to be normal, not until Teddy came along. The man did his best to made Hosah feel normal, he'd give him the credit for that, but the efforts he went to only served to make the shifter feel more and more alien by the day. Sometimes he truly thought Teddy had briefly mistaken him for some sort of stray animal with how he spoke or acted towards him.

How great it would be to grab the giant by his shirt, to shake him around and yell 'what is your problem?' until it all came spilling out. Unfortunately, when like this, the most Hosah could do was pull on his sleeve, maybe undo the button around his wrist, knowing how unbelievably frustrating those were to do-up. That didn't sound like half a bad idea, actually.

It couldn't have been their little fight that was still playing on Teddy's mind, surely. If it was, Hosah would desperately need to reconsider his choice in partnership, but for now, he'd choose to believe Teddy was more mature than that. Maybe it could've been-

"Hey." The voice cut straight through Hosah's line of thought, with a finger to go along with it poking into the side of his head. "What's up with you?"

What? Hosah swatted the finger away, momentarily speechless with confusion. How could Teddy be asking that, when he'd been acting weird for days now? The shifter scoffed once, then twice for good measure, his eyes on everything but the giant's before him.

"Nothing. Why, does something seem up? I'm fine." He spoke, his words trailing off into spluttering mutters, then silence.

Teddy loved to do this thing where, if he didn't believe a word the shifter was saying, he'd just stare, unmoving, until more excuses came up and out, with Hosah's yarn ball of a story completely unraveled into a mess of thread at the bottom of a hill. It was infuriating. Silently, the shifter sometimes thought their relationship felt more like a cat and mouse game than anything, but he kept that to himself in fear of being teased for such a ridiculous and strange thought.

After a good while of uninterrupted staring, Teddy blinked, and shrugged, "You just looked like you were thinking really hard about something."

What was really hard was the ability to play difficult when the giant smiled so casually, that stupid snaggletooth making the slightest dent in his bottom lip. Oh how badly Hosah wished to just rip it out, then maybe Teddy's face wouldn't have such an effect on him. At this point, the shifter would settle on just... Holding his face. He furrowed his brow at the thought. Not being able to grow and shrink at free will was incomprehensibly frustrating.

The worst part about Teddy's staring tactic was that it always worked.

"Well," Hosah sighed, his thumb tracing over his own knuckles whilst he took a brief glance at the giant's. Being so big was incomprehensible to him. So much so, that it was enough to completely bring Hosah out of his train of thought.

Both of them waited for him to elaborate. The shifter didn't really know what to say himself, usually his mouth would just do the work for him, but, for once in his life, his lips were sealed.

It was easier for him to shrug it off, so that's what he did. "I don't know, it's nothing, really." Hosah knew what look the giant would be wearing, so he saw no reason to look up at all.

He knew exactly what he was on his mind, it was just easier to keep it there rather than letting his thoughts become words. When you do that, you give them weight, you make them real... Something like that. It was something his caretaker had said to him, over ten years ago by now. What was he called again? Mr Greene, although by now, if he stuck to his word, it should be Doctor Greene. That was it. They'd all called everyone who worked in that horrible place doctor anyway, licensed or not. Oh, dear god, he didn't want to think about it. He'd rather think about anything else in the entire world.

"... If you say so." Teddy's head was tilted, giving the shifter that look of 'I won't verbally push you further but just know I'm doing exactly that with my mind'.

Hosah really did think about telling him. About telling anyone. Maybe the phrase he'd heard was a lie all along, and maybe putting his thoughts and his memories into words would take their weight away. Maybe that way, Jules and her knowledge wouldn't have such leverage over him. There was a different phrase in mind, but it was one he felt stupid repeating even in the comfort of his internal monologue. Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone... For the sake of his dignity, Doctor Greene's quote was the better one.

Even if he'd opened his mouth to speak, Hosah wouldn't have known what to say anyway. His experiences weren't things he'd ever made an effort to put into an order in his memory, allowing them to come back in disorganised snippets when they applied, to haunt him in the depths of sleep. It was better this way, they were infrequent, unpredictable. That sort of thing would've stressed Teddy out beyond belief, but, the shifter found comfort in the fact he didn't quite know what brought them back to the forefront of his mind. That way, he wouldn't have another plethora of things he'd try to avoid, to worry about and be afraid of. The lord knew he already had plenty he was afraid of.

And speak of the devil, a head, along with its body, came turning around the corner. The shifter wondered just what exactly had Jules of all people looking so deeply disturbed, and he could only hazard a guess. He'd seen that look before, of humiliation, of something adjacent to fear but not exactly that, something he didn't know a word for. Hosah could only guess that she'd shifted.

For once in her life, Jules didn't have a look that struck terror into her employee's hearts plastered on her face. She was pale enough in the first place, but now, she looked downright ghostly. Speechless and a little disoriented, their boss just stared the two down, like a deer in headlights. If he didn't care for Jules so deeply, Hosah would've been extensively entertained. Oh, how the tables had been turned.

"Uh.." Jules started, her fingertips running along the hem of her skirt as she fidgeted to keep it in its specific place, "Hosah. I need.. I need a word."

The hand that rested beside the shrunken shifter twitched. There was no way in hell Hosah would ever let himself be carried by his boss, never in a million years, so Teddy would have to do. As he mindlessly climbed into the still hand, Jules' words hit him like a huge tidal wave, washing over him with a horrible sickly feeling. How there was no way in hell he would've been genuinely loved if Teddy knew what had happened to him. Even when she was in such a state, a glint of judgement still hurled his way, and blasted right through him like a bullet to the head. Oh how he wished it to be literal. Unfortunately, metaphorical bullets wouldn't take him out, so he'd just have to swallow down the uneasy feeling that washed over him as Jules stared.

Hosah waited for the snarky comment when he slid down from the fingers and onto the surface of her equally large desk, near identical to the one he'd just spent hours sat on, but said snarky comment never came. Not even once Teddy had left, with their boss promptly shooing him away in the same swatting fashion the shifter had used on his finger just before.

To say Jules looked rattled was an understatement. As soon as the door clicked shut, her head was in her hands, letting out a long, pained groan.

"You won't believe what just happened." She rested her head against the desk as she spoke, hiding her face with the embarrassment.

Hosah tried to wipe the look of amusement from his own, shrugging, "It happened, finally?"

They both knew exactly what was meant by 'it'. Jules tried her very best to keep the fact she was a shifter under wraps, but it was bound to come out sooner rather than later. She'd managed for a good few years, and that in itself Hosah found impressive. Then again, she had the money to keep herself completely and utterly medicated at every moment of the day. Insurance would cover a lot, but no more than absolutely necessary, and somatotrophin was one hell of a drug to even get a hold of in the first place. Shifters in big cities like this were lucky, high populations create high demand, and Hosah didn't want to imagine what his life would be like if he really did go back to his nowhere town in Colorado.

"What do you mean 'finally'?" Jules huffed. "..And, yeah, it happened. Jeanne found me. I can't fire him, so, I'm lost on what to do."

"Jeanne wouldn't tell anyone." Getting closer was a dangerous game, but Hosah didn't really care to think about that. He'd walked this tightrope countless times before, and he’d do it again.

He placed a hand atop of Jules’, although his only could just wrap around her white knuckles.

"I guess not.. Anyway. That's not what I actually wanted to talk to you about. Bad timing." She sat up in her seat, gripping the edge of the desk like her life depended on it.

An apology, surely. It was rare these things ever happened, but on the blue moon where Jules has a little clarity and gains the ability to feel empathy just temporarily, Hosah could expect some form of regret for how she'd treated him. He'd thought about their last fight way more than he'd like to admit. There was no need to open the wound that was Chris, and there was even less of a need to rub salt into it straight after with roping Teddy in. Maybe, just maybe, she'd come to realise that.

"I've been thinking a lot about... Before. That night. I just, I need to tell you.." Here it comes, oh how Hosah had looked forward to this.

Jules admitting to you that she messed up was essentially the same as winning the lottery’s jackpot. Not only would it mean she really, really must’ve messed up, but it would’ve given you the leverage to use just how bad it was over her again and again for a long while, just until she did something probably equally as bad, but with a whole lot less remorse. Hosah thought about what he’d do with a smile on his face. Taking a week off and going up to his hometown, maybe showing Teddy all the spots he used to visit, was the first thing that came to mind.

"... I thought about it, and, it's for the best that I take you off the case."

Oh. Huh. That wasn't quite what he was expecting at all. Of course, his first instinct was to argue and fight against it, he had a duty to bring justice to those people, to himself, but, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel.. Relief. A weight lifted off of his chest. Hosah let out a heavy breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. For some reason, he didn't want to shout, or cry, or even feel bad for himself, he just felt relieved. Maybe this would be it. Maybe now he could pack up and find his cabin by the lake. He didn't quit or give up, he was simply forced to move on, and that he would do.

The pair sat in silence for a while. Jules had fully expected another argument to start, but the shifter before her was uncharacteristically calm about it all. Hosah shook his head, going to knead at his temple for a moment, before he really thought about what to say.

"How many vacation days do I have exactly?"

-~-

"So, that's it then? She just.. Took you off?" Acting oblivious wasn't something Teddy felt entirely comfortable doing, but it was something he'd do either way, because he didn't have any other choice.

"Yeah, I guess so." Hosah had been far quieter than usual. It was expected, but, as the hours passed with him barely saying a few sentences in them, it was getting concerning.

They'd been home for a bit now, and the shifter had only just really mentioned what exactly Jules had spoken to him about. It wasn't like Teddy didn't already know, he just expected.. more. This was great, though, surely. Hosah wasn't mad about it, so, even if he did find out, their relationship wouldn't be completely unsalvageable after all.

"Well, that's... That's good, no?" The giant leant over the kitchen counter, his elbows at either side of the shifter, just as the way he liked it.

"I guess so." Hosah repeated. He hadn't bothered to look up at all. Huh.

Teddy brought a finger to the top of the shifter's head, and gently stroked the messy hair atop of it. He was trying pretty much everything he knew Hosah enjoyed, and none of his tactics seemed to even slightly snap him out of his slump.

He sighed, manoeuvring himself to lean against the counter on his hands, trying not to pay attention to the shadow he overcast as he did so, "Come on. Let's go do something. It'll cheer you up."

"I told you I'm alright, I just need to.. process it." Hosah could protest all he liked, but it wouldn't stop the hand from wrapping around him any time soon.

Usually, Teddy wouldn't be so straightforward, he had manners, after all, but something told him the shifter wouldn't so openly climb into his palm as he'd done so a million times before.

"Even if you're alright, I still wanna get out of here with you." Teddy dismissed the 'but'-s as he went around their apartment grabbing his things. He briefly wondered if Felix would curse him out for calling during the back end of rush hour, but decided a little berating would be worth it, for Hosah.

It seemed the second Hosah had actually told the giant what he was so desperately needed for to speak about, his demeanour changed entirely. What was he being so weird for? Just yesterday, Hosah would've had to jump up and down with waving hands to get his attention, but now, their roles had reversed entirely. Saying it wasn't comforting for Teddy to tell him he wanted to spend time going out together would've been a lie, but that same sickly, insecure feeling had overtaken the shifter's body entirely.

"There's no point when I'm stuck like this." Hosah spoke, quietly, mostly to himself.

"What? That's never stopped us before. Is.. is that the reason boss took you off the case or something?" The giant stopped dead in his tracks, lifting the hand that Hosah sat in up close near his face, which was plastered with an expression of worry. "You know it's not a problem. What's gotten into you, huh?"

Teddy's smiling didn't have that same wooing effect as it usually did, not in this situation.

"She didn't really get into why exactly." Hosah focused on the least relevant part of the previous statement, as he usually did when he wanted a subject to be dropped.

"I see." The look on his face definitely didn't give the impression of 'seeing'. "I'm in the mood to go get dessert. Do you wanna go get dessert? Churros sound really good right now."

The thought of eating right now was not at all pleasant. The right to decline food, however, was stripped from Hosah the moment his doctor started accusing him of being 'disordered', whatever that meant. Nowadays, not being in the mood just was a cause of concern for everyone around him, and it was definitely up on his list of things that annoyed him.

His truthful and honest answer was more like 'not particularly', but his distaste for being lectured was far bigger than the literal pit that formed in his stomach, so instead, he said-

"Sure. We can just share."

Teddy's smile only brought out a long, tired sigh from the shifter. Arguing over the same issue again and again would've been a whole lot worse than just having to sit and endure it, though, so going along with the day would just be what Hosah would have to do. He didn't get it. Sure, his eating habits were bad, and sure, it definitely looks like there's something wrong with it when you look on the surface, but really, he had complete control over himself and his habits. The fact no one believed him about it only made him want to get worse. By choice, of course, as this was something Hosah did all on his own fruition.

He didn't protest as Teddy set him down on his shoulder, pulling on his winter coat all the while, and wrapping the pair essentially together under his scarf. This part was always nice. The shifter thought that, maybe if he were quiet enough, Teddy would forget he was there entirely, and he'd get away with ending the night on his empty stomach, but he was far too clingy to ever realistically do that. Hell, he could barely go five minutes without reaching up and making sure he was still there, or repeatedly asking if everything was alright. At first, his constant worrying was completely grating, but as Hosah's fondness towards the giant grew, so did his appreciation for his paranoia. It was cute, really... Although Hosah didn't feel like he was in the appropriate position to be calling anyone cute when he was like this.

It was refreshing to see the familiar face when they got into the taxi. Admittedly, the two of them had been abusing the subway system far more than the taxi services around the city lately, and with that came a good few abrasive texts to Teddy's phone from their favourite driver in the country.

"Hey, hey! You thought you could abandon me, no? Mm-mm.. This is the thing, you regulars, you always come crawling back when you try get away. Not this time, not any time." A lot of what Felix said came off as quite threatening, but given the huge smile on his face, you could never be too sure.

"I know, I know, we're.. Dreadfully sorry." Teddy shook his head, raising his hands palm up to surrender.

Felix hummed in disappointment. "Where's Pupa, huh? What's his name, I forget his name.. Your little friend, you have him?"

One thing Hosah didn't miss about the taxi services were the fact he'd been given a, frankly quite offensive, nickname that he couldn't quite shake off. To the shifter, it only served to worsen his already terrible mood, but it always brought Teddy great entertainment.

"No, no he's here... Bad day, s'all." Teddy muttered the last part under his breath.

The shifter wasn't exactly hiding, he just didn't want to make himself entirely known just yet. That was all.

"Oh, oh that I understand. My wife does these things, all the time. She shrinks herself and hides off somewhere, leaves me to make the dinner, to do everything. I do it, but you know, I don't like it. I work all day long, and it's late enough when I come home, too late to be doing these things all alone." Felix ranted for a bit, his hands moving back and forth between being up in the air and tapping against the wheel.

At this rate, Hosah began to seriously doubt the global percentage of shifters was only a singular digit.

Rather than going on for any longer, the driver turned his head back around towards the front windshield, "Anyway, enough from me, where to?"

Teddy seemed to purposefully give him a street name particularly far from where he really wanted to take the shifter, as they'd been walking out from the taxi for a good ten minutes by now. If it weren't so cold, Hosah would've quite enjoyed the fresh air.

"Sorry, I didn't think the walk was this far." Teddy didn't sound sorry, but his voice took the shifter out of his daydream, almost like he'd read his mind with his sudden change in topic.

Hosah shrugged, curling up a little tighter in the layers of soft, felt fabric. "Doesn't matter."

"Hm," The giant hummed, "I suppose it doesn't. Guess this gives us more chance to talk, anyway."

That was exactly the problem. Hosah didn't want to talk, because he knew exactly what the first question would be. It'd be something completely stupid, like-

"How's your day going?"

God. The giant was getting really good at guessing what was on his mind, even when he didn't have an overly expressive face to look at and go off of.

"You've been with me all day, so, you could take a guess." Hosah was aware of how irritating and cold he was being, but honestly, he couldn't really care less.

Teddy let out a sigh of amusement, "Right you are. You know, if it's bothering you, you could just talk about it. I'm all ears."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I just figured it'd all upset you more than it has, to be honest." Teddy continued to inquire further, no matter how harsh or vague the shifter seemed to be.

"Why would I be upset, it's just less work for me, that's.. You said that's a good thing. So. I'm not upset. That'd be stupid. I'm glad." I mean, it was partially true. In some ways, Hosah really was glad, but saying it hadn't upset him, even in the slightest, was a total lie.

The giant nodded, sagely, "Yeah. You're right. Well, at least now we're celebrating, huh? Honesty, I've been thinking about dessert all day, I would've taken you to the café, you know, the one I took you to forever and ever ago, but-"

Thank god. Hosah honestly thought he'd never stop going on until his phone started ringing. Only, a part of him missed the carefree tone in Teddy's voice when it significantly dropped.

".. My mum is calling."

The shifter always found it weird how he used 'mum' and not 'mom', but his change in voice sounded serious enough that he held back from mocking him for it, just this once.

In all the months they'd known eachother, Teddy rarely spoke about his parents. He knew his dad was a chef, and his mom was the Italian one, but that was about the end of it. Hosah had no idea if he even liked either of them very much. Although, given how defeated he both looked and sounded when he began speaking the unfamiliar language on the phone, he could guess that he didn't in fact like them, even at all.

It was in times like this where Hosah wished either of his parents taught him their mother tongue. Now was probably a bad time to think it, but, damn did whatever Teddy was talking about sound hundreds of times hotter when he couldn't understand a word of it. For once, his slight accent was being put to work, and the sound was like honey to the ears. All the shifter could do was pray whatever was being spoken about wasn't completely tragic, otherwise he'd definitely be eating his words.

His curiosity only grew the longer the call went on for, until it ended. Hosah didn't want to outwardly ask in fear of coming off as nosey, but what he did want was to know exactly what they were talking about, and every detail of it.

Teddy had stopped dead in his tracks. He mumbled a little bit, but ultimately, the only thing he'd said was a mix of 'um's and 'mm's. The shifter could only watch as he bit his lip, putting his phone back in his pocket with one hand, and cradling his head with the other.

"I.. She- I think.. I need to sit down. Let's go sit down, I need, I need a minute- a couple minutes."

Hosah could only drop his sulking act immediately as the words came spilling out of the giant's mouth. It wasn't often he seems lost for words, and given how he was right now, lost would've been a complete understatement. There was a really, really good chance that the shifter would in fact be eating his words.

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[chenouttachen]

fucking devastated that non is dead, but after seven episodes straight of watching him suffer trauma after trauma after trauma, i’m just relieved i didn’t have to watch him die too

[malikson]

.

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[lesbianjackkline]

spn finale taking a leaf out of six feet under’s book (a show that ended the year spn began and who’s finale makes me cry like a baby), but making it shit

[reidrum]

hypothalamus

note: this is just me reidsplaining neuro i fear. and being horny. sorry? inspired by my real life final that i so bravely studied for without spencer's help </3

summary: in which spencer gets creative on helping you study for your exam

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, fingering, p in v sex, heavy praise kink, neuroscience jargon

wc: 2.3k

apologies in advance if it sounds too sciencey it is unfortunately the side effect of a woman in stem. bunsen burner! (divider by @firefly-graphics)

The dry erase marker crumbs stick to your hand as you angrily erase the whiteboard again, internally groaning as you restart drawing your diagram hopefully correctly this time. It’s not. After another few failed attempts you slump back in your chair and huff out in frustration, too deep in your sulk to hear the front door open.

“Hey I’m home!” Spencer calls out, bending down to remove his shoes.

“In the study.” you grumble out, a surprise he even heard you when he walks in a minute later. His gaze softens as he takes in the scene. Your notes strewn across the table, your whiteboard dark with marker smudges that match the side of your hand in which you used to erase it. The exhaustion clear as day on your face and the hint of defeat in your eyes is enough to draw him closer to you.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” he says softly.

You sniffle, not exactly crying but the stress was bringing you to the brink, “S’nothing, just trying to study and it’s not working. Feel dumb.”

He sighs and rounds the desk, sitting on the edge and reaching for your hands as he looks down at you, “What did I tell you about saying things like that?”

“To not to.” you mumble.

He laughs softly, “Well, yes. But it’s because you’re too hard on yourself. You were just explaining all of this to me yesterday.”

You whine, “I know and it feels like I forgot it already!”

“Maybe you just need to approach it differently,” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Your whiteboard isn’t helping?”

“No,” you sigh, “I keep drawing it wrong and it’s frustrating me.”

The despair in your voice makes his heart ache, and all he wishes is to be able to take it away. Spencer remains deep in thought before something clicks in his mind, you see the shift in him but you’re unable to discern what epiphany he’s reached. His eyes sparkle with mischief as his entire demeanor changes, “I think you might need a different type of visual.”

Your eyes squint in confusion before you realize what he’s getting at, and you can’t help but laugh. “You’re not serious? This is a joke, right?”

He doesn’t break eye contact, “Humor me.”

The laughter dies down on your tongue as you take in and consider the very intentional nature of his words. “How so?”

“You’re studying brain structures right?” you nod, “Okay well, what better way to study than with some active learning?” 

You couldn’t look less convinced. Spencer chuckles, reaching for your hand to switch places with him so he’s seated on the chair. You move forward hesitantly, he holds a hand out to gently pull you closer while using the other hand on your hip guides you onto his lap. You part your knees on either side of him and situate comfortably on him, arms slinking around his neck.

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You soften, “Hi. Are you sure this isn’t a ruse to get me in bed?”

“Oh come on, we’ll kill two birds with one stone. A lot of the hypothalamic functions are very important during intercourse,” he trails his fingers up and down your side, “You’ll get to study with a real life application and relieve some of your stress.”

You move your hips slightly, smiling when you feel him harden beneath you at the simple movement, “Alright, I’m game.”

He matches your grin and presses a kiss to the base of your jaw, “Need you to help me with my pants for this to work, baby.”

The soft kiss already sends you into a dizzy fit, nodding mindlessly as you scoot back to allow yourself space to work on undoing his belt and zipper. You aren’t even sure what his plan is, but if it keeps him talking to you like that you’re afraid there might be nothing you won’t do for him. Spencer’s eyes are focused on you while yours are focused at your handiwork, unable to resist slipping a hand in and palming him through his boxers.

“Ah—h baby, not yet.” he hisses at the contact, reluctantly removing your hand, “S’about you remember? We’re studying. So, tell me something about the thalamus.”

“Okay, the thalamus functions as a relay center for both sensory and m—oh—tor functions.” you moan feeling his lips attach to your neck, slowly marking a path down the slope of your nape with chaste kisses.

He looks up at you briefly, smiling smugly, “Why’d you stop? Keep going.”

You clear your throat as he continues his descent towards your shoulder, motioning for you to lift your arms so he can take off the shirt you’re wearing. His lips immediately reattach before he stops in place once more, brown eyes peering up at you knowingly amid your silence.

“R—Right, so there’s a structure called the lateral geniculate nucleus, fuck.” you curse feeling him suckle a hickey into the crease of your neck.

“Yeah?” he mumbles, “And what does it do?”

His lips descend further down, teasing the lace edges on your bra. You yelp as he nips playfully, “It um, it helps send um…visual stimuli to the brain, right?”

A wicked grin spreads on his face, “That is right, smart girl.” His fingers trace the outline of your bra to the back where he expertly unclasps it, letting it fall to the floor. “You keep getting it right, and I’ll reward you each time, yeah?”

You nod hypnotically, eager to please him and seek his rewards. A soft gasp leaves you as you feel him latch onto your breast, letting his tongue swirl around the peak of your nipple and feeling it harden under his touch. You tighten your arms around him as he latches onto the other breast, moaning softly as he makes sure to give it the same special attention.

You grind your hips down and he lets out a low groan,  arm tightening around your waist, suspending your movement. “Can’t do that, sweetheart” he strains, “You gotta earn it.”

Another whine leaves your throat, dropping your head to his neck. He really wasn’t making this easy. “Okay, so ask me something else then.”

His nose brushes up the length of your neck before his hands reach for the notes behind you, “Anterior nuclei of the thalamus.”

Before you get a chance to think about the answer, you’re distracted by his wandering hands again. Only this time, they’re going down towards where you really need him.

“Spence,” you say breathlessly, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure for a moment.

“Nuh uh,” he pauses his ministrations, “Answer first, reward second. I told you the rules, don’t make me repeat it.”

You whimper and Spencer almost folds—almost. But for the sake of your education, and definitely not the way you look perched on his lap, he treks on.

He does feel a little pity and decides to show you a bit of mercy when he motions for you to lift up slightly so he can pull your pajama shorts all the way off.

“That feel better?” he whispers, hot breath fanning your face. You nod hastily. “Okay then. Anterior nuclei of the thalamus.”

“Um…the anterior nuclei is responsible for—“ your breath hitches as his finger traces the edge of your panties. “Memory, right? Hippocampus.” you rush out.

You feel him smile and nod, “Correct,” his finger hooks onto the fabric and pulls it to the side, the cold air not even hitting you before he swipes through your folds.

Your head drops to his shoulder as you let out a shuddering sigh, peppering kisses up his neck as his fingers provide the much needed attentiveness you needed. He chuckles softly, “Just relax. You’re doing good, pretty girl.”

He helps you remove your underwear, maneuvering you so he can smoothly slide them off your legs. His fingers collect the slick and glides up to circle your clit, grinning when he hears you whine loudly. He continues to move across your pussy before retracting his finger while you let out a soft whimper. You’re about to protest when you see the intention of his removal, watching his hand slip below his boxers to gently pull himself out. He gives himself a few pumps before laying flat against his body, guiding your hips so your cunt is flush with the topside of his dick.

He holds your hips down preventing you from moving, “Hypothalamus?”

The cock drunk state is getting to you and he’s not even inside you yet, “It’s a um…it regulates…stuff.” you trail off, his lips returning to your neck.

He sucks another hickey onto your neck, licking over it and pulling back to gently blow on it. “Not good enough,” he whispers, “Try again.”

You whimper, “Okay—Okay, it sends signals for…sympathetic response—fight or flight” the end of your voice lilting up as he begins to move your hips.

“Keep going.”

The sensation of your cunt sliding up and down his length is enough to send you into delirium, and you’re honestly impressed you’re still able to speak. “It also does,” you take a deep breath for regulation, “It signals appetite and eating…and…”

He slides you forward enough so the tip of his cock is barely breaching your entrance, “One more, pretty girl.”

You rack your brain as you try to force yourself to focus, and not think about the way his tip is stretching your opening, teasing you relentlessly. The answer comes to you in a lightbulb moment, “Intercourse,” you moan, “releases hormones for sex.”

Spencer grins again, “Good girl.”

He lifts your hips a little, and the shift in angle is enough to fully slide himself inside you, the feeling causing you both to moan in tandem. The stretch of his cock inside you splits you apart beautifully, making you feel so full.

You whine his name again as you try to move, getting louder when you realize his hands are still clamped to your side, holding you square in place, “Wanna move, please.”

“Oh baby, you know I love it when you use your manners,” he touts, pressing kisses up your chest, “One more question and I’ll give you what you need, okay?”

You nod quickly, waiting impatiently for his last question.

“Tell me the two hormones made in the hypothalamus.” he whispers against your skin.

“I know one is antidiuretic hormone…” you breathe out shakily, “But, there’s one more I can’t remember.”

“I’ll give you a hint.” his hands slowly begin to guide you up and down on him, a languished moan leaving your throat. The feeling of him pushing against your cervix is so detrimentally distracting, like all you’re focused on is the pure euphoria your body is chasing. It’s clouding your judgement, your senses. It’s all consuming as the pleasure spreads throughout you.

Wait.

Oh.

Spencer seems to sense that you’ve reached an answer and thrusts up into you, “Ah—Knew you’d get there. What is it, baby?”

You let out a sharp gasp before answering, “Oxytocin.”

He doesn’t give a verbal praise but his face splits into a wide grin, finally loosening the grip on your hips and allowing you full reign to chase your peak. You brace yourself on his shoulders and increase your pace, his hands returning to your sides facilitating your movements.

“Such a smart girl you are, baby,” he coos, “Taking me so well and getting all the answers right?”

“Spence…”

“You’re just so good, angel. My beautiful, intelligent girl,” he continues to praise, feeling you clench around him, “My good girl, isn’t that right?”

Any and every neuronal connection in your brain is fried at this point, melded down to nothing but atoms at the hands of Spencer Reid, clearly reveling in your fucked out state as evidenced by your incoherent babbling. His hands grip your sides tighter and pulls you harder when you sink down, the sound echoing throughout the study.

“ ‘m close,” you mumble as you slump into his shoulder letting him fully takeover. He stills his movements for a second before standing up with his hands under your legs to sit you on the desk in front of you. Your hands detach from his shoulders and hold you up from behind as you lean back and let Spencer pull your body towards him.

He continues to fuck into you, the new position allowing him better control for calculated thrusts and a faster pace. Words don’t exist in your lexicon anymore and you hope he can understand your babbles as you attempt to communicate with him that your orgasm is about to overtake you entirely.

He knows, obviously, because it’s you. He slides a finger down to your clit to further drive you to the edge, leaning down to whisper, “Come for me, baby. You’ve earned it.”

With a high pitched whine you crash into your peak with the full force of your body, vision temporarily going white before returning in splotchy spots. Spencer comes not too far behind you, fucking the last of his come into you before stilling completely.

You both pant heavily as you try to catch your breaths, and Spencer leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. “You alright?”

“I think you fucked me dumb.”

He laughs breathlessly, “Actually, I think I fucked you smart.”

You swat his shoulder lightly and laugh, “That was so bad.”

He smoothes your hair back before gently pulling out, using your discarded shirt to clean you up a bit. His lips press a kiss to forehead, then your nose, both cheeks, before landing on your lips kissing you deeply.

You pull back suddenly, “Wait, I still have like, five more sections to review.”

Spencer’s wicked grin returns. “Well, we better get to work.” He effortlessly picks you up from the desk as you giggle and wrap your legs around him. He reaches the bedroom and delicately tosses you on the bed, looking down as he stands over you at the edge.

 “Gotta make sure you get that A, pretty girl.”

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

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ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

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liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

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ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

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danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[gf2bellamy]

caught — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: hotch gives you a call to inform you that you have a case and to bring spencer. the problem? you haven't announced your relationship to anyone yet. content warnings: reader and spencer being worried a/n: one of my fav things i have written actually i love sleepy spencer

The shrill sound of a phone ringing broke the stillness of the dimly lit bedroom. You groaned, your head sinking deeper into the pillow.

“Spence,” you mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. 

A soft hum came from beside you as Spencer stirred. His head rested on your shoulder, and his messy curls tickled your face as he shifted slightly.

“Hmm?” he murmured, barely awake. 

“Your phone is ringing,” you muttered, nudging him gently. 

He lazily lifted an arm, reaching over you to the nightstand. His fingers fumbled briefly before he grabbed the vibrating phone. He cracked open one hazel eye to glance at the screen, then let out a sleepy exhale. 

“That’s yours,” he mumbled, handing the phone over to you before dropping his head back onto your shoulder. His breath was warm against your collarbone, and you felt the weight of him settling back in, clearly ready to fall asleep again. 

You sighed, equally exhausted but resigned, and brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?” you rasped, your voice thick with sleep. 

A familiar voice responded on the other end, monotone and all business. “We’ve got a case. I need you and Reid here in 20 minutes.” 

Your head thudded back against the pillow as you closed your eyes, already dreading leaving the warm cocoon of the bed.

“We’ll be right there,” you mumbled. 

You placed the phone back on the nightstand with a sigh. “Spence,” you repeated softly, nudging him lightly. 

All you got in return was a sleepy “Mmhmm,” muffled against your shoulder. 

You glanced down at him, brushing a few unruly curls out of his face. He looked peaceful, his lips slightly parted and his breath steady.

You almost hated to disturb him. “We have a case,” you murmured, your voice still sleepy. 

Spencer let out a loud, groggy groan, burying his face deeper into your shoulder like a petulant child refusing to wake up. His arms tightened around your waist. 

“Hotch needs us,” you added , trying to sound more awake, though the fog of sleep still clung to your mind. 

“Us?” he muttered, finally cracking one eye open to peer up at you. His voice was hoarse with sleep.

“He didn’t call me,” he said, confusion lacing his tone as he reached for his phone on the nightstand. 

You seized the moment to untangle yourself from his hold, though he made an effort to keep you there, his hand brushing your arm as you slipped away.

Sitting up in bed, you watched over his shoulder as he checked his phone. 

“See?” he said, holding the phone up to show you his blank notifications screen. “No missed calls, no texts. Maybe he forgot about me,” he joked, as he glanced over at you. 

You smirked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and pushed the covers away. “Ha, maybe he did,” you teased, stretching your arms over your head with a yawn. 

Spencer sat up beside you now, the weight of sleep slowly lifting from his features. His curls were a mess, sticking up in every direction, and you had to stifle a laugh at how endearingly disheveled he looked. 

Spencer’s gaze followed you as you stood up moving toward the closet, his eyes lingering as though he was working through something in his mind.

“Hey,” he said softly, calling your name to catch your attention. 

You paused, turning slightly to look over your shoulder. “What?” you asked, your brows furrowed at the expression on his face. 

He was staring at you, mouth slightly agape as though he were on the verge of some grand realization. “What exactly did Hotch say?” 

Your confusion deepened. “What do you mean?” 

Spencer straightened up a little. “Word for word,” he insisted, his hazel eyes now wide and alert, all traces of sleep gone. 

You frowned, trying to recall the conversation from a few minutes earlier. “Uh…” You hesitated for a moment, squinting. “He said, ‘We have a case. I want you and Reid here in 20 minutes.’” 

The words replayed in your mind, and suddenly, you felt your stomach drop. Your mouth fell open as you turned fully toward Spencer, realizing what he was getting at. 

“How did he know?” you whispered, eyes widening. 

Spencer was already on his feet now, running a hand through his messy curls. “Exactly,” he mumbled, pacing a small circle next to the bed.

His fingers raked through his hair repeatedly, a sure sign he was overthinking every possible explanation. 

Your mind raced as well. “I mean… we’ve been careful, right?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Spencer glanced at you. “Careful? Yes. But this is Hotch we’re talking about. He probably knew the second we—” He stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head as though dismissing the thought. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Do you think he’s mad? Or… I don’t know, does he care? Oh god,” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands as the weight of the situation settled on you. 

Kneeling down in front of you, his hands gently rested on your knees.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and soothing.

Spencer carefully pulled your hands away from your face, his warm gaze meeting yours.

“We’re going to be okay,” he assured you, his tone carrying a confidence that you weren’t sure if he fully believed himself. 

You stared at him for a second, your expression skeptical. “It’s just Hotch,” he added, like that was supposed to make you feel better. 

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes narrowing in silent disbelief. The unspoken that’s not helping was written all over your face. 

Spencer gave a small, sheepish smile, a little self-conscious but entirely endearing.

“Okay, fair,” he admitted with a soft chuckle. “But—” His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

“I’m pretty sure he’s going to be more mad if we’re late. Which, uh… we probably already are.” 

Your head snapped toward the alarm clock on the nightstand. The numbers glowed mockingly in the dim room, and your stomach dropped. “Oh my god,” you groaned, shooting to your feet. “He’s going to kill us.” 

Spencer stood with you, his hands instinctively coming up to steady you as you stumbled slightly in your haste. “Not literally,” he offered, his tone dry but amused. “Probably.” 

“Not helping, Spence!” you shot back, your voice tinged with panic as you grabbed your bag and quickly started tossing things inside. 

“We’ll make it. Statistically, as long as we leave in the next three minutes, we’ll only be…” He paused, doing the math in his head. “Twelve minutes late, which is still within Hotch’s frustration threshold.” 

You whirled around to face him, your hair a mess from your frantic movements. “How do you even know that?” 

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “He’s lectured Morgan for being thirteen minutes late before. Never twelve.” 

“Good to know,” you muttered, zipping up your bag. “But let’s not test the theory, genius.” 

You were now hopping on one foot as you tried to pull on your pants, your mind racing just as fast as your heart.

“What if he's already waiting for us ?” you asked, panic creeping back into your voice. “What if he’s standing in the bullpen, glaring at the clock, just waiting for us to walk in so he can give us that look?” 

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh quietly as he grabbed your jacket from the back of a chair and handed it to you. “If he’s waiting for us,” he said, his tone light and teasing, “then the longer we stand here worrying about it, the worse it’s going to be.” 

You shot him a mock glare as you took the jacket, shoving your arms through the sleeves. “You’re lucky I like you,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing your bag and heading toward the door. 

Spencer grinned as he followed after you, his hand brushing against yours for a brief moment. “I know,” he replied softly.  

[jaysng]

post arguement — yang jungown

PAIRING. husband!jungwon, preg!wife!reader

GENRE. angst, fluff

WORD CNT. 695

NOTE. sorry i haven’t been posting and haven’t replied to anyone in a while, life has been tough and i hope you understand. also been messing with the themes lately. don’t know what looks good. trying.

you woke up in bed, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt both familiar and surprising. your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft blur of the room. the last thing you remembered was curling up on the couch, raw from the argument with jungwon.

the silence of that moment had been heavy, charged with words that couldn’t be unsaid. you had fallen asleep with tear-streaked cheeks and the ache of his voice replaying in your head, cutting deeper each time.

but now, here you were, back in your shared bed. your fingers brushed the comforter, trying to piece together how you’d gotten there. a slight shift behind you made your heart stutter; jungwon was close, his arm resting lightly around your waist, cautious.

his breath was warm against your back, slow but uneven, as if he’d been awake for a while.

the faint nausea that lingered in the mornings pulled at you, a reminder that this moment wasn’t just yours. the baby growing inside you made everything sharper, more fragile.

last night’s argument had felt even more painful because of it, and the guilt weighed heavily on you now.

jungwon’s arm tightened slightly, and you felt him press his forehead gently against your shoulder. the quiet stretched on, the tension humming between you like a current. he took a shaky breath, breaking the silence.

“i’m sorry,” he said, voice rough, almost breaking. it caught you off-guard; jungwon was rarely this raw, this unguarded. “i shouldn’t have let you sleep out there. i shouldn’t have said anything that made you feel like you had to.”

the sincerity, the guilt in his tone, cracked something open inside you. you didn’t turn to face him, not yet. it felt safer to speak without looking into his eyes. “i shouldn’t have said what i did either,” you whispered, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “but it hurt, jungwon.”

his hand moved from your waist to rest on your arm, tentative, as if afraid you’d pull away. “i know,” he admitted, his voice so quiet it almost disappeared. “i was so caught up in being right, in feeling frustrated… i didn’t think about you. about us.”

you felt his breath hitch, and it only deepened the ache in your chest. “and when i saw you on the couch, curled up like that… it felt like everything shattered.”

you finally turned, shifting to face him. jungwon’s eyes were red-rimmed, guilt swimming in their depths. you could see how much he’d carried through the night, how it weighed on him now. “did you stay up?” you asked, noticing the exhaustion etched across his features.

he nodded, a rueful smile touching his lips for a fleeting moment. “i couldn’t sleep. i kept thinking about how wrong it was, having you out there. and with the baby… i couldn’t let it stay that way.”

your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked them back, not wanting to let the moment spiral into more sadness. “thank you for bringing me back,” you said softly, fingers brushing against his. “i didn’t realize…”

“you shouldn’t have had to,” he said, voice steadying but still thick with emotion. “you’re my everything. both of you are.” he hesitated, eyes searching yours as if he needed to find a sign of forgiveness. “i know saying sorry isn’t enough. but i need you to know that i’m here. i’m here, and i’ll be better.”

the sincerity in his voice, the guilt that laced every word, made your heart clench. you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “i know,” you whispered, feeling the first hint of relief loosen the knot in your chest. “we’ll figure it out. together.”

jungwon’s eyes softened, and he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding all night. he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the touch warm and reassuring. “together,” he echoed, the word carrying a promise that filled the space between you with something tender, something healing.

it wasn’t perfect, and maybe it wouldn’t be for a while. but as he pulled you closer, careful and loving, you felt that for now, it was enough.

do not copy or repost — @/jaysng

[uhohdad]

(18+) WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES

˚☽˚.⋆ Loser!König x Reader - Sharing a bed ˚☾˚.⋆

loser!könig purposely booked a room with only one bed, but he’ll spin a story about how the hotel messed up, even going so far as to feign frustration and air threats of complaint until you soothe him. Don’t worry, not that big of a deal, we’ll just share a bed. It’ll be fun, a sleepover.

loser!könig can’t stop staring at you as you both unwind in your hotel room, lying on your front and half-heartedly watching a cooking show, the white noise of the air-conditioner roaring in the background. Your teasing legs are bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles, swaying absentmindedly in the air. He’s drooling over your ass, practically hanging out of your thin lounge shorts.

loser!könig can hardly contain his excitement when you both finally retire for the night, crawling under the comforters. He’s annoyed you spend so much time playing with your phone before bed, because he’s just itching to have you asleep and all to himself.

loser!könig forces himself to wait until you’re in a deep sleep, a slight snore and the occasional twitch of a dream. He’ll gently peel back the brilliant white covers, his cock already straining against his sweatpants in pure excitement. His eyes devour every new inch of skin revealed to him, lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, braless in a loose tank top. He can see your nipples through the thin fabric, it’s not hard for him to imagine what your breasts look like underneath.

loser!könig bites his lip as he pinches the front of your tank top, carefully bunching it up to expose your torso. He freezes when you shiver, one of your arms moving to rest over your stomach, starting up again when you still.

loser!könig’s aching cock is leaking at the sight of your soft, perfect breasts on display for him, the cool air bringing your nipples to attention. He has to stifle both a whine and his urge to touch you, palming the front of his pants for relief and not so much as blinking while he ravages you with hungry eyes.

loser!könig can’t restrain himself, freeing himself from his sweatpants and pumping his cock to the sight of your tits, a show that’s just for him. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip hard enough he nearly draws blood, holding back his grunts and moans with a strain.

loser!könig lasts less than a minute, forcing his choked moans to leave him as only breath. Every muscle is tight and tensed as he splatters your chest with his finish, working out every last drop, trembling and heaving overtop of you.

loser!könig snaps a picture of your cum-soaked tits before he carefully pulls your shirt flush to the arm slung over your waist, tucking you under the comforter once again.

loser!könig gets no sleep that night, staring mesmerized at the photo of his finish claiming ownership of your chest until morning.

˚☽˚.⋆ loser!könig ˚☾˚.⋆

[my-castles-crumbling]

golden - January 16 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 323

It took all of Regulus’s self-control to keep his voice down as he quietly stormed from the bedroom on the end of the hallway to the sitting room, where his husband sat waiting for him. “James Potter, you swore you would stay neutral!” he hissed, crossing his arms and frowning.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” James replied innocently, but the pink forming on his cheeks gave him away. 

“Oh? Harry just happened to find your old practice Quaffle in the attic?” Regulus asked, tapping his foot. 

“Yes,” James nodded, causing Regulus to snort. “Oi, it’s not my fault he liked it so much!”

“Yes, but it’s your fault you gave it to him! You’re the one who threw a fit when I wanted to give him that stuffed Golden Snitch last year! You said we had to let him choose on his own!” he reminded him, finally sitting, but making sure he was as far away from James as possible, just to make a point.

James took a look at the way Regulus sat, curled up on the opposite end of the couch, and sighed. “Fine. You’re right. I just…he’d make such a good Chaser, you know? Can you imagine?” he changed his voice to a deeper tone, holding his hand to his mouth like a microphone. “Aaaaand introducing the newest chaser for Gryffindor: Harry Potter!”

Regulus sighed, rolling his eyes affectionately at how enthusiastic his husband was. He allowed himself to relax a bit, stretching his legs out so his cold toes poked James in the leg exactly like he hated. “I think you mean ‘the newest Seeker for Slytherin!’”

The older man chuckled, grabbing Regulus’s feet and bringing them properly on his lap. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we, love?”

But, seven years later when they stood in the stands, cheering for Harry Potter, the newest Seeker for Gryffindor, they both cried tears of joy and pride.

[boneblushed]

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”