#what is this a house of leaves?!?! laugh track

[aheathen-conceivably]

Three rhythmic knocks rang out across the desert. Jo let out a breath as she heard footsteps sound from inside the house. She had no reason to believe that Val would act any differently than she had every other time they'd met since things had grown awkward between them. Short, impersonal pleasantries. Quick, false smiles.

The door opened and Jo tried to maintain the indifference that she had worked so hard on these last few months. It’s fine. You’re friends. That’s all. “Keys are in the car. Just don’t do anything stupid. Get her back in one piece. Same as usual.” Terse. Already impatient. Seemingly the same annoyance that had been on her face the first time they had met.

“Wait, I -“ You’re friends. Don’t you miss that? Having someone more like you to talk to. Laughing with someone who doesn’t know every detail of your past and your ire. Where’s the harm in that? You’re in control. Just keep yourself in control. “Actually I was wondering if that drink was still on the table?”

Val leaned sideways, her eyebrows shooting up in an expression Jo could actually read. Amusement. “Oh, really?”

The finely woven threads holding up Jo’s principles loosened at that one simple question. Val’s eyebrow stayed raised, her posture infuriatingly relaxed, and Jo’s neck grew warm with the reminder that she could never simply smile and get her way with Val. Instead she had to grit her teeth and swallow her conviction that she should never be the one to implore someone else. “Yes, really. If you still want to, of course.”

In response Val simply stepped backward, a satisfied look on her face as she held open the door and gestured for Jo to step inside.

Val didn’t show off her living room the way that most people would have. She barely looked back as her long strides took her toward an open door across the room. Trailing behind her, Jo tried to take in every detail. She had seen much of it from the window, of course, but she realized now that had been like looking at it as the set of a play. Now, it seemed like a place where someone actually breathed. She couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that the walls didn’t need newspaper to keep out the red dirt, or that it smelled slightly of dried chilis rather than chickens and failed hope.

Lost in the simple comfort of it all, she didn’t even realize that she had lost track of Val, or the tightly wound control she had been so sure of moments before. Instead she was looking at the only other doors in the small house. They were shut tight, their contents hidden and their windows facing away from the porch. This is it, isn’t it? The room I tried not to think about when I would leave you in the bar all those nights ago. Did you close the door just for me, just so that I couldn’t see? Because we went too far and ruined whatever friendship we had…

“Are you coming, or what?” Jo turned back to see Val staring at her from the kitchen, her face set more with calm curiosity than the annoyance that had been there mere minutes ago. 

“I - what?” Heat rose up Jo’s spine as she tried to recenter herself in her heels rather than the imaginings she had already begun to conjure. You idiot. Don’t do this. Almost imperceptibly, she shook out the agitation gripping the back of her neck and regained control of her mind. “Yes. Of course I am. Lead the way.”

Jo took off her gloves and hat as Val rummaged through a cupboard. After a minute, she pulled out a dusty bottle and a cup, stepping nearer to Jo at the table as she poured liquor into a glass. “You’ll have to forgive me if it’s a bit old. Doesn’t get much use other than when there’s folk over, and we both know that’s not often.”

Jo looked up at her, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the strong smell of whiskey that had sat unopened for years. “Why don’t you drink, anyway? I mean all night at the bar, here all alone. That bottle wouldn’t have lasted a week in my house.”

Val shrugged her shoulders and pulled back the chair across from Jo. “Seems an awful way to deal with your problems if you ask me. Even worse than running away, just numbing yourself and turning the other cheek.” As she finished speaking, Jo’s hand hovered around the glass. Val noticed it and laughed. “That sounded mighty judgmental, didn’t it? I didn’t mean it that way. Only for myself, really, and maybe for all of those louses without a dime drinking away their children’s meals.”

Still, Jo’s whiskey stayed untouched as she looked into Val’s eyes, “Can I ask you something, honest?” With a nod of her head Jo continued, “Why are you still here? You know - in this town. I mean you’ve got a car, the road goes both ways right through the center, and I’ve been to your father’s courts; you could be anywhere in the country in a week.”

Val looked at the table between them and stayed quiet for a moment. Then she answered without looking up. “Honest, maybe I’m too loyal for my own good. I like it here, true. I like knowing everyone’s names and where they came from, but it hasn’t been easy, being on my own and unwilling to marry at that…”

For a moment she looked up at Jo knowingly, as though to test her on the subject or see if she’d judge her in some way. Then she glanced down at Jo’s left hand, holding the cup delicately and notably, without a ring. Jo brought the drink to her lips and she noticed that just before Val kept talking, she smiled. 

“Well, there’s some mixed feelings about the Groves. My father in particular. They found oil on our tract back when I was a girl. Most of the tribe fought him on it, but father got the government’s blessing to drill it. We were still under trust quota, of course, so the money wasn’t really his. He had to get permission to use the fraction of profits they gave him to buy anything else. Permission to use the profits off his own land. The same land sold to him by the government after they had stolen it in the first place.”

For a moment she stopped, a crack in her facade finally showing as they looked at each other and the room went silent. There was a charged beat of shared anger, some sense of knowing the past without needing to speak it that passed between them both. Then she signed heavily and resigned herself to the rest of the story.

“But once they did he took the cash and bought land lining the railroads first, and eventually, the route. If they wanted to play the game of land ownership, well I figure he thought he was going to win. So one by one he developed them, and once the money came out of there, it was his. I know why he did it now, why he drives up and down the route without any real sense of home; but some old timers still spit at the mention of his name. Call him a sell-out or a crow. Maybe I stayed here to make up for him. Or, I don't know, maybe it’s just as simple as there's nowhere else I wanna go.”

Jo put her glass back on the table lightly, unsure of what to say.

“I suppose that’s a bit more of an answer than you wanted, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s - I’ve just always wondered. Ever since I saw the car, really. Do you know how strange it was? Seeing you standing astride it like you owned the damn sand itself? It was formidable, I’ll tell you that.”

“Quite the compliment coming from you.” She had said it with only the smallest trace of sarcasm, so Jo tipped the glass in her direction, the crooked smile on her face still there even as she brought the glass to her lips. Val reached in front of her, rolling a cigarette that was to be far from her last. Then the sun got lower, their brows less concerned, and the lingering stiffness between them melted away.

It was dark by the time Jo moved to stand. Her legs were admittedly more wobbly than she would have liked them to be, and the memory of why she had been so stressed about coming here now harder to find. But as she found herself unwilling to move away from the table, a sort of charged silence fell over them. She kept her eyes off of Val’s as though she had something to hide, and without even really knowing why, offered up an embarrassed apology for her departure.

Val simply looked up at her from her chair, her posture slouched and the brief flash of disappointment that had been on her face now cloaked in wry amusement. Everything about her countenance told Jo that the expectation to stay was coming from within herself; and suddenly, she remembered exactly why she had to leave. So she straightened her skirt and made her leaden feet head toward the door. 

As she walked through the room, Jo’s steps slowed, seemingly having forgotten something that she couldn’t quite name. Val was watching her from the doorway, her shoulder against the wood and her voice low. “Keys are still in the car, as promised.”

Her hands were neatly folded across her body, and as she said it, she had nodded behind Jo as though directing her out. Instead Jo turned further; her mind was both sharp and cloudy with anticipation, just like it is when you hold your hand over a fire and wonder just how close you can get before you get burned. “Will you save the bottle for me? For next time?”

A smile slowly spread across Val’s face, laced with something more genuine than had been there hours before. “Sure, Jo. Next time.”

In response Josephine simply nodded and turned to leave, keeping control over the next question that she really wanted to ask. And next time, would you leave the door open for me too?

Previous / Next

[1980shorrorfilm]

last goodbye

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…you leave ellie at the farmhouse.

before you read…angst. ellie gets mean :[ inspired by yellowjackets <3

the food is no longer steaming when ellie enters the quiet house, but you’re still there, sitting at the dining table— waiting.

your plate untouched, because you told yourself to just wait a few more minutes, wait for your lover to come home and join you. that was stupid. her routine of leaving and coming home when the sun was setting, or already down, wasn’t going to change simply because you wanted it to.

and what can you say to her?

she says it helps and clears her head from the things you couldn’t even imagine taunting her. you had to accept it. you had to tolerate the pushing away at the times you needed her to communicate to you. or her turning away in bed if your hand lingered on her thigh. the days spent knitting on the couch, alone, because she wasn’t there.

she never was. and yet you wait, and you wait, for something to change. but it wasn’t going to be ellie, no, her habits would remain the same. you had to do something.

you had to do something with all this love in your heart that feels unreciprocated, a harsh realization after everything you’ve been through with her. you’re sure, or you convince yourself, ellie does still care for you; she just can’t show it, not like she used to. maybe one day, you’ll receive that warm feeling again.

maybe, just not now.

“hey,” you greet her quietly, fork poking at your food, “kinda late, no?”

she pauses after kicking off her shoes and shutting the door, a cool wind slipping in before it closes. “you my parent?” she asks back in a tone that makes you feel dumb, and she quickly bites her tongue when your head is down. she sighs, “just…thought i was tracking somethin’ big…but i lost it.”

you stand up, collecting both full plates on the table, “sure you’ll find it when you’re out all day tomorrow.”

you walk to the kitchen, not catching the huff that leaves her lips or the roll of her eyes— the same pretty eyes that once only held admiration for you, and nothing else. that looked at you like you were the sun and the moon and all the twinkling stars in wyoming’s sky. now so…bland. not much behind them. 

ellie follows you, staying in the doorway while you pack away the untouched meals. “you’re not gonna eat?” she questions, arms crossed.

“lost my appetite.”

“seriously?”

you briefly look at her, unable to read her expression. you can only assume it’s one of annoyance. wanting to ignore her, you redirect your attention to the task at hand, placing the now-empty dishes in the sink and turning on the water. she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to remain patient despite the tension filling the space between you two. 

“i’m…” she begins, another deep sigh, and slowly walking over, “i’m sorry, babe.”

she’s using that soft voice that she does when you’re upset with her, and it used to work in the beginning. something little like dragging her muddy shoes through the house when she was eager to see you, to hold you, to kiss you. now, it doesn’t quite work. it’s a facade, she cannot be sorry when she will do the same fucking thing tomorrow and the day after that. 

you feel her behind you, pressing herself into your back, head on your shoulder. “just didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” she explains softly, kissing the tender skin of your neck, but it doesn’t seem to get a reaction from you. you don’t move like you’re being tickled, she doesn’t get a smile or a shy giggle, yet she kisses again.

you speak beneath your breath, “course you didn’t.”

ellie halts, then, slowly detaches herself from you. she takes a few short steps away, with a very dry and short laugh that almost makes you uncomfortable. for a moment, it’s silent, then comes a heavy gust of wind vibrating the house, and she nods, “okay.”

“okay?” you repeat, finishing up and drying your hands, reluctantly devoting your focus to her. “that’s all?”

“i don’t know what you want from me.”

now, it’s your turn to laugh, humorlessly while looking her in her green eyes, “i-i just want you to be here—that’s fucking it, ellie.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

you swear your hands shake in anger the moment her mouth shuts. and she’s serious, too. she’s so oblivious this is more than a cold plate of spaghetti. unfortunately for ellie, it’s hard to pinpoint when something—anything—had gone wrong, because her days blend together. hours and hours of feeling nothing. 

it’s the same for you, in a different sense. except you desperately crave an escape. 

and it’s not that far out of reach.

“i…i’m going home.”

“what? you—you are home.”

“i mean jackson, ellie. to my mom, my dad, people that love me, you know?” you tell her harshly, walking past her and going upstairs. she follows closely, mind racing, processing how the hell this escalated that damn bad.

“no—no, you’re not,” ellie says, like it’s true, because the reality that this isn’t some sort of joke or way to make her feel bad is unacceptable. 

you can’t leave her. you never have. you fucking left jackson twice to be with her. when she intended to avenge joel and when she decided to move away. and you did both things with no hesitation, an immediate yes, that’s only the ever answer for you when it came to ellie. was.

“what are you doing?” she asks, watching you grab a dusty backpack from beneath the bed, one that hasn’t been used since you happily moved in together. she had kicked it beneath the frame with her hungry eyes on you, laying on the mattress, one knee propped up and swaying and teasing. the first perfect night here. one of many, before they slowly faded into bleak loveless routines.

you don’t reply, because she has eyes that she can use, and turn your back, opening the closet. you skip over her clothes and to your own, tugging at your hung shirts and throwing them on the bed.

“c-can you stop— y/n,” ellie walks over, hand on your arm, a firm grip that prevents you from moving. until you tug away, looking at her like she was out of her mind. meanwhile, she’s thinking that with you. “i’m sorry—o-okay? just stop.”

her voice is begging, tears pricking at her eyes as it’s hitting her this is real. her partner doesn’t want to be around her. the love of her fucking life. her mind has already convinced her you were too good for her, for all her problems she has made your own, but that doesn’t mean she was just going to stop herself from loving you. she couldn’t. she needs you. you can’t leave.

“i’ll be better, yeah? i will. i’ll be here—with you, i want to be. a-and we can visit jackson, together— show em’ how good we are. w-we can be really good, we gotta try—i will fucking do anything, baby—” her words are rushing out, she doesn’t even know what she’s saying, if she’s making sense, but she thinks it’s getting to you.

she almost has hope for a moment.

then, she swears she sees it. that sorrowful look on your face, one that looks like future regret.

“ellie…i love you—”

“don’t—don’t fucking do that—no,” ellie puts her hands on her hips, shaking her head, not taking her eyes off of yours no matter how blurry they got.

suddenly, you hate this, and you want to vomit. the only ellie you saw when you wanted to leave, was the one that was no longer comfortable sharing emotion with you, being vulnerable like she once was. and now, she’s here, when you’ve made that decision. 

you shiver at her icy gaze and air slipping through the crack of the window, ellie wishes she could just make you freeze in place with the power of her saddened eyes. she can’t. 

and the idea that she can’t infuriates her.

she hesitates, “fucking pathetic…gets too hard for you and—you just run.”

now, you’re still, forgetting about the backpack and the shirt in your hand, the one you momentarily thought about hanging back up when you saw the first teardrop. you were going to do what she wanted and stop, to see if she meant it, if she’d do better. if you can be there for her, if she could just let you. how silly. 

“no—” your attempt to defend yourself is cut short, ellie speaking again, “b-but you ‘love’ me, right? damn liar…waste of my fucking time.”

you feel it. the actual breaking of your heart at words you think she doesn’t mean. she’s just upset. she’s just upset.

she gulps, “when you leave…don’t come back.”

you’re crying.

now you do feel pathetic, and you hate the way she’s staring at you, you push her away and rush out of the room. she’s following and it only makes you move faster, your combined heavy footsteps being the only thing louder than the settling of the house.

you reach the front door, grabbing the nearest jacket, ellie’s brown one she kept from joel. it smells just like her and it’s unfortunately extremely comforting. you put it on, and then your shoes, ellie just watching with confusion on her face. she doesn’t want this—why did she say that? what’s wrong with her? the same question that hung above her head for months. 

“y/n— wait—”

and that’s it. that is, essentially, her goodbye to you.

you’re out the door, jogging down the porch stairs, and not looking back as she stands, watching. telling herself to keep following you, because it can’t end like this, like a nightmare; losing you.

but, she doesn’t.

you made up your mind that she can’t change, she had tried. she lets you go, your only guiding being the dying sun. 

she stands by the door until you’re out of sight, then hesitantly, walks to the couch. she can’t go back upstairs, she can’t touch that bed now. she lays down, staring into nothing, everything on her mind that prevents her eyes from shutting. 

how did she get here? 

how? 

she doesn’t know when she fell asleep. she seemed to stay awake forever, must’ve been when she lazily tugged a nearby blanket on her body, the living room growing cooler.

but the windows weren’t open. why the fuck is it so cold?

ellie sits up when there’s some light peeking through the windows, the sun rising and the snow falling. it had been falling all night. she thinks of you, and something is wrong. she senses it, like a calling, two hearts synced and not beating in the same rhythm anymore.

ellie gets up, throwing on her sneakers and grabbing a thick hoodie, along with the rifle propped at the door— before exiting it. she can hardly focus when she sees the thick snow coating the ground, unsure how to fucking track you, to make sure you took the right path to jackson without getting lost or hurt.

it’s not a short trip. not on foot, and not in several inches of snow, or with this fucking wind that forced the snowflakes to hit her face. 

she decides to call your name once she’s on the usual path, not caring if anything else heard, she can handle it. what she can’t handle is not finding you.

and, she does.

another hour in, a few feet to the left, propped against one of the many trees.

sleeping—that’s what she wants to think. 

ellie says your name, quietly, and knowingly. 

she feels like the ground beneath her has just swallowed her whole. she thinks she’s screaming, but her mouth is just ajar as she’s fighting for breath.

she’s on you, holding you, trying to warm you up, but that cannot undo what has happened. she had lost you.

she had lost you a long time ago. she thought she could make up for it, she made the promise she would when she was lying down just hours prior— and you weren’t even here anymore.

now, she never can. and it’s like the sun, the moon, and all its stars, no longer exist. you had taken them with you. maybe she would be at peace, knowing there was a moment—a short moment—where you only felt a rush of warmth, and it was like being held by her again.

like she’s holding you now; she cannot let go of you. if she leaves, then it makes it real. 

so, she stays.

[lifeasadorkwithnolife]

Jealously (Azriel x Reader)

Word count: 3200

Mor and the reader have a plan in place to make Azriel jealous, but it backfires instead.

               You sighed, resting your elbows on the kitchen counter and placing your face into your hands. “Mor- please, don’t start this.”

               “I’m not starting anything, Y/N.” Mor disagreed, stirring the tear in her mug with a spoon. “I think I’m finally ending this pining game that you are putting yourself through.”

               “I don’t pine.” You mumbled, hesitating before peeking through your fingers. Mor rolled her eyes, taking a sip. “Fine, fine. Maybe I do, but can you blame me? He is the perfect male.”

               “I don’t blame you, but I also don’t know what you see in him besides his looks.” Mor teased, reaching out and pulling your hand from your face. “I’m just kidding, and you’re beautiful, Y/N. Any male would be lucky to have you.”

               You gave her a small smile, feeling the blush start from your chest and snake its way to your cheeks. She laughed, grabbing your cheek and giving it a squeeze. “But seriously, my plan is perfect. Watch this.”

               “What do you mean?” You asked, but she gave you a look and leaned back down on the counter, stirring her tea.

               “I just really think you should shoot your shot.” Mor giggled, and Azriel walked into the room, not even looking between the two of you. “Maybe you should do it at Rita’s tonight, you know we always see him there.”

               “Mor-stop!” you blushed harder, slapping her and looking down. Azriel didn’t even stop as he strolled through the room and out the other door. “See I told you, he wouldn’t care.”

               Mor gave you a devious smile, “this plan has multiple parts my dear, planting the seed of jealously is only part one.”

               “I am not wearing this!” You screeched, looking in the mirror. You were wearing one of Mors signature red dresses, but the slit went so far up the leg you couldn’t even wear proper undergarments. “Seriously-no.”   

               “Seriously, yes.” Mor sat on her bed, her own dress on and hair done. “We are going to go out, have a good time, and maybe find you a new male to flirt with.”            

               You stared at yourself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous but also… hot. You turned, looking at yourself over your shoulder as Mor smiled from behind you, leaning back and crossing her long legs. “Are you sure?”   

               “Duh, lets go!” Mor grinned, hopping off the bed and grabbing her clutch and your arm. You tried to keep up with her quick pace, but in your heels that was never going to happen. You nearly fell, but caught yourself just in time for Azriel and Cassian to walk into the hallway.

               Their gazes landed on you, Cassians eyes grew wide and both males physically stopped in their tracks.  “Boys- don’t wait up for us, the adults are going out.”

               “Y/n!” Cassian whistled, causing you to turn a deep scarlet. “Have fun out there, where are you going?”

               “None of your business, this is a girls only event.” Mor teased, grabbing you and pushing past the two large males. Azriel’s eyes locked on yours for only a second before glancing away, no expression on his face. “But if you need to know- we’re going to Ritas!”

               You two arrived at Rita’s not too long after, grabbing a drink and sitting in a booth. You watched everyone dance around you, you never really did this with Mor, you were more of a reader, not a dancer. You sipped your drink, your eyes darting around nervously. “Soooo…is this a part of your plan too?”

               Mor sipped from her drink, finishing it off and setting it down. “Come on, lets dance!”

               “I don’t dance.” You argued, regretting leaving the house. This was so silly, this was not your scene.

               “Look who just showed up.” Mor grinned at you, raising an eyebrow. You turned, watching the dark figure walk in through the door. You were surprised, Azriel was here without being forced? That was a first. You smiled, going to wave at him but then realizing that he… someone was grabbing his arm, pulling him away and towards the bar. Not just someone, a beautiful fae with long blonde hair and a huge smile.

               Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach as you watched Azriel give her a small smile back, not pushing her away but instead following her to the bar. Your smile fell and you could feel a wave of nausea flowing through you. “Mor, he’s with someone.”

               She frowned, eyes squinting at the pair at the bar. She quickly picked up her drink and put the straw to your lips. “Take a drink and lets get your mind off him. He’ll be out of here before we know it.”

               You nodded, numbly grabbing the straw and sipping the rest of your drink and setting it down on the table. You followed Mor out to the dance floor, and after a few minutes of awkward swaying, you could feel the alcohol kick in and your nerves give way.

               “See, aren’t you having fun?” Mor laughed over the loud music and crowd, grabbing your hand and giving you a twirl. You spun easily, laughing as you felt the dizziness wash over you. You grabbed the clip from your hair, shaking out the loose waves that you had done before.

               “I think I am having fun actually.” You smiled at her, twirling her back. “Let’s get another drink!”

               You two made your way over to the bar, and you gave a big smile to the bartender as he poured you another drink. He slid it across the bar, leaning over and placing his hand on yours. “You come around here often?”

               “No, I definitely do not.” You laughed, not pulling your hand away and instead brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “What about you?”       

               “I do work here, so I would say so.” He retorted, a smirk on his face. You looked down in embarrassment, but his warm finger reached under your chin, forcing you to look up into his brown eyes. “What’s your name?”

               “Isn’t that a little personal?” You teased him, pushing his hand away playfully and grabbing your drink. You took a sip, looking up at him through your lashes. As you did so, your eyes drifted to the left, where you spotted Azriel and the girl sitting next to him.

               Azriel’s hands were clenched at the bar, his drink untouched. The girl next to him was still talking, but Azriel gave no inclination he was listening, his eyes boring into yours. Dark, dazzling, angry. “It’s just your name, doll.” The bartender stepped into your view of Azriel, giving you another dazzling smile. You physically had to shake your head, trying to get the thought of Azriel out of your mind. You were here to get over him!

               “Y/N.” You smiled, “I’m going to go dance, but I’ll be back.”

               “You better be.” The male winked at you, making you smile again as you found Mor again on the dance floor.

               You danced your heart out with Mor, swinging your hair around until you were covered in a light sheen of sweat. You laughed so hard your abs hurt, but your heart still felt a pang every time you saw her sitting at the bar with Az.

               Eventually the night came to an end, and you walked up the bar, Azriel and the girl had both left, you wonder if you would see her at home. The thought made you sick to your stomach. “It was nice meeting you.” You smiled at the male; he smiled back as you sat in one of the stools. He took a rag and was cleaning the inside of a glass when you spoke again. “I…I think you’re very attractive, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think I am ready for any type of relationship, even one for the night.”

               He looked at you, nodding in understanding as he placed one glass down and picked up another. “I admire your honesty.” He answered, “I don’t know if I’m in the right place either for that type of relationship, Mor got me this job to help me move on from my past life…including my ex. I’ve been trying to do things the right way.”

               You nodded, and he sighed, looking around. “Speaking of her- where is she?”

               “I think she left.” You replied, “She was talking to someone, and I think I saw them walk out only a few minutes ago.”           

               “Figures.” He snorted, placing down the last glass and looking around. “I can’t let you go home alone, grab your coat, I’ll Walk you.”

               “I’m really fine.” You laughed, grabbing your coat and putting it on. “I can defend myself pretty alright.”

               “Oh I’m sure.” The male chucked, grabbing his coat from under the bar and shrugging it on. “I’ve heard the stories about you, I heard a rumor that you once killed someone with just one finger.”

               You laughed out loud, bending over to contain to hold your stomach. He turned off the light, chuckling to himself as you both made your way to the door. “I totally did not do that.”

               “I don’t know- It did sound like a pretty convincing rumor.” He teased, you were met with the cold blast of air outside and the earliest signs of dawn in the sky. You heard the door lock, and he turned back to look at you. “I heard one minute the guy was standing, and the next, you were standing over him, finger in the air.”

               “Oh shush!” You pushed him, laughing again. “What finger was it? I need to know.”

               “That’s the best part.” He grinned down at you. He leaned down towards you, his lips coming close to your ear. “Your pinky.”

               You pushed him away, smiling and blushing. “No way!” you pushed your hair back from your face again, a grin on your face as you looked up at the male. In the light, you could see his sharp cheekbones and pointed ears, and the boyish blonde hair that was neatly combed on his head. “Thank you, for tonight. The drinks were great, and I had a lot of fun.”

               “I can seriously walk you home.” He offered, pointing in either direction. “What way are you?”

               “Seriously- I can do it.”  

               “I can’t let you walk home alone.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “now are we going left or right?”

               “That won’t be necessary.” A gruff voice replied, you jumped, turning and watching Azriel come out the alleyway.

               The male immediately took three steps back from you, looking between you and the shadowsinger. “Got it, I’ll…I’ll see you next time, Y/N?”

               “Of course.” You smiled at him, giving the male a small wave as he quickly walked down the alley. Once he was out of eyesight, your eyes turned to glare at Azriel. “What was that for?”

               “You said no, he didn’t respect that.” Azriel said flatly, “Let’s go home.”

               “I don’t need to be walked home!” You angrily stomped, arms flying to your chest in annoyance. “And why did you have to be so mean? He was nice and just wanted to make sure I got home safe!”

               “I can make sure you get home safe, Y/N.” Azriel rolled his eyes, his shadows moving around his frame. His wings were tall and spread, blocking the view of the alley behind him. “And, let’s be honest Y/N, you would be protecting him more than him protecting you. That male was useless.”

               “Us-Useless?” You raised your eyebrows, “Okay Mr. Judgemental, thank you for your opinion that I did not ask for. He was fine, he was great actually, thank you.”

               “Oh really?” Azriel’s eyebrow rose, “You met him while he was bartending at Ritas, what do you know about him that makes him great?”

               “He makes good drinks!” You shouted, angrily balling up your fists and bringing them to your side. “And…And he was nice! And honest!”

               “Oh honest hm?” Azriel rolled his eyes again. “let’s go home Y/N.”

               “I’m not walking home with you.” You seethed, trying to walk past him but he held out his arm. “Get out of my way.”

               “He wasn’t the type of male you want, Y/N.” Azriel moved, stepping in front of you and looking down. “His family has a history of being abusive towards females, you could do better.”

               You froze, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him. “How would you know that? And how is that any of your business?”

               “I make it my business to know the males that you make company with.” Azriel’s eyes grew darker, and he moved out of your way. “Let’s go home.”

               “What type of male should I look for then?” You countered, crossing your arms again and leaning, one hip out. You could feel the cold air on the slit on your dress, but maybe it was your anger, but you didn’t care. “Tell me, what kind of male should I look for?”

               “Not someone like him!” Azriel’s hand flew in the direction that the other male had walked off, “You need someone who can protect you at the very least!”

               “Oh protect me?” You laughed, you started to walk past him, slightly pushing him. “Get a hold of yourself, I can protect myself just fine.”

               “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should have to!” Azriel countered, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to look at him. “You need someone that has your back, someone that will always take your side.”

               “or maybe I need someone nice.” You replied, trying to rip your grasp from him. “Nice and honest.”

               “You don’t want nice, you don’t care about nice.” Azriel’s eye darkened, you could feel his shadows moving around his arms.

               “Tell me what I need then.” You ripped your arm away from him. “Since you seem to know it all, just spit it out already.”

               “You need someone that will fight for you, someone that would wait for you, someone that would kill for you or do anything you wished. Someone who would fly across the the fucking courts just to be able to see you.” Azriel seemed out of breath, his eyes boring into yours with intensity.

               You stared back at him, eyes narrowing and a frown forming on your lips. You thought of the girl he was with, at the bar, and felt your heart drop back into your stomach. “So you’re saying I need someone like Cassian?”

               Azriel’s eyes went wide, and he backed up a few steps, running his hands through his hair. “Do you…do you feel for Cassian like that?”

               “Of course not!” You shouted, crossing your arms. “I just have no idea who else you could be referring to-“

               “Me!” Azriel shouted, pointing towards himself. “I am referring to me!”

               “You don’t mean that.” You whispered, your hands started to shake slightly.

               “I do mean that.” Azriel replied, his scarred hands coming back to his sides as he stared at you. “I had a hard enough time watching you with that useless male, please do not make me watch you and Cassian.”

               You stared at him, a million thoughts racing through your head at once. There was no way, Azriel..Azriel was with that girl.         “Who were you with tonight?” You placed your hand on your hip, trying to ease the shake. “You two seemed awfully close.”

               “I don’t even know who she was.” Azriel rolled his eyes, “I was outside Rita’s for nearly an hour before she grabbed my arm and told me that she was a friend of Mors and brought me inside.”

               “Why did you go to Ritas?” You countered, and he looked around, shrugging almost like he was embarrassed.

               “I…fuck Y/N.” Azriel grabbed the bridge of his nose again, “Mor had told you to shoot your shot, then you’re putting on this scrap of fabric and telling everyone you’re going to Rita’s, of course I’m going to go.”

               You stared at him, the sun was beginning to rise behind him, casting him in a glow. “You… you were jealous?”

               “Yes, I was jealous.” Azriel growled, “I wanted to rip that males hands off when he touched you.” Your heart pounded in your chest as Azriel glared at you, he still seemed angry. “When you first came out here, I thought you were going to go home with him. I think I might have actually killed him.”

“I was jealous too.” You admitted, slowly walking the few steps over to him so you could look up at him. “When I saw you with that that girl… and she was touching you, and she was so beautiful, I thought I would be sick.”

               His eyes shone with honesty and a bit of emotion that you had never seen from him before, vulnerability. “I don’t think I looked at her.” He whispered, his hand slowly moving to tuck the piece of hair that fell in front of your ear. “I just spent the whole night wishing I could dance with you like Mor was, or flirting with you as easily as that male was.”

               You grabbed his hand, feeling his calloused one under your own. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again Az.” You whispered, and he nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted another male, I compare- I compare them all to you.”

               “As do I.” He replied, leaning his head down slowly. You could feel the words he spoke on your lips, “You were the only one made for me.”

               His lips met yours, slowly and deliberately, and you didn’t pull away from the kiss until you needed to get some air. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you couldn’t help the blush that spread from your neck to your face.

               “I’ve been waiting for you to blush like that for me.” Azriel teased, using a thumb and stroking your face. “Now, let me walk you home.”

               While you and Azriel spent the day making up for lost time, Mor got out of the house and went back to Ritas. She smiled at her old friend Jason, who placed a water in front of her and smiled back.

               “That little plan of yours almost got me killed, you know.” Jason grabbed a towel, cleaning a glass as he normally did when making conversation. “Who was the girl you had come in with Azriel?”

               “Someone else who owed me a favor.” Mor smiled, sipping on her drink.

               “Well…did the plan work?” Jason asked, setting the cup down.   

               “Unfortunately, I think it worked too well.” Mor scrunched up her face in disgust. “They were at it all night long.”

[andromeda-pleiades]

Just Trust Me

WORD COUNT: 3,536

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Hi sorry it took me a little more than a month to come out with the next chapter I was writing another story and broke up with my boyfriend. ●﹏●

Also someone has the strongest accent in this chapter sorry

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You tried calling your sister first, then an old friend, but no one answered. Your calls went straight to voicemail, leaving you staring at the screen in frustration. It only reinforced what you already knew—there was no one else to turn to. With a reluctant sigh, you pull up Kyle's contact.

You: I need help. I don't know who else to turn to.

The dots appear and disappear for what feels like an eternity before his response finally comes.

Kyle: What's going on?

Your fingers tremble over the keyboard. You don't know how much to say. If you tell him everything, will he even believe you?

You: I think he's tracking everything I do. I feel trapped.

A longer pause. Your stomach churns. Maybe he's trying to find the right words. Maybe he doesn't believe you.

Kyle: Are you sure? Simon wouldn't just do that without a reason. Maybe you're overthinking.

Your breath catches. Doubt creeps in, but you shove it down. No. You know what you saw.

You: I'm sure.

Kyle doesn't immediately agree to meet. Instead, he hesitates, his messages measured and deliberate.

Kyle: Look, I get that things might feel off, but maybe you're just stressed? Simon cares about you.

Your fingers tighten around your phone. Gaslighting. Whether intentional or not, that's what it feels like.

You: Kyle, please. I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't sure.

A long pause.

Then, suddenly—

Kyle: Let's meet. We'll talk in person.

Kyle suggests meeting at a diner just outside town. The drive there is nerve-wracking, each passing car a potential threat. When you finally see his familiar face—casual, steady, a tether to the past before everything fell apart—relief washes over you.

"You look like you haven't slept for days," he murmurs as you slide into the booth across from him.

You let out a dry laugh. "Haven't had much reason to."

He signals for the waitress, ordering coffee for both of you before leaning forward, voice dropping. "Tell me everything."

You do. Carefully at first, testing the waters, but soon the words tumble out faster than you can contain them. You tell him about the tracking software you discovered, the notes detailing your daily movements, the control tightening around you like a noose.

Kyle listens, his expression shifting between concern and something unreadable. "You were right to reach out," he says when you finish. "Simon... he's always been intense, even before all this."

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know what he's capable of, but you have to understand, it's not just about control for him. Simon was made into what he is. Task Force 141 doesn't recruit soft men. It shapes you, sometimes into something you never wanted to be."

You shift in your seat. "That doesn't excuse any of this."

"No, it doesn't," Kyle agrees, his eyes meeting yours. "But it explains it. His past, everything he's been through—it broke him in ways neither of us will understand. And Price..." He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "Price was like a father to him. More than that. He was a guide. Simon respected him more than anyone. And what Price taught him? Control means safety. For himself. For the people he cares about."

You frown, stirring your coffee absently. "You make it sound like he's protecting me."

Kyle gives you a small, sad smile. "Maybe, in his mind, he is. That doesn't make it right."

A strange pity coils in your stomach, unwanted but undeniable. Simon—ruthless, obsessive Simon—was once just a man looking for structure, for someone to follow.

You shake the thought away. It doesn't change what you need to do.

"When the ten days are up, I have a place," Kyle says suddenly, lowering his voice further. "A safe house. You can come there. No strings. No Simon."

Hope flares in your chest, but something nags at you. Kyle's hands are steady, his words reassuring, but there's something about his delivery that feels... rehearsed. Too perfect.

You ignore it. You have to. He's your only chance.

"Okay," you whisper. "I'll come."

Kyle smiles, a little too quickly. "Good. You won't regret it."

You stand at the doorway, watching as Simon secures the last of his gear. His movements are methodical, efficient—just as they always are. The weight of his presence lingers in the air, suffocating even as he prepares to leave.

"I'll be back before you know it," he says, pulling on his jacket. He steps toward you, cupping your face with a gentleness that still makes something inside you ache. "I love you."

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to nod. "I love you too."

The words taste like ash now. You watch from the window as Simon's car turns the corner and disappears. But you don't move yet. 

Instead, you pull out the small leather-bound notebook you bought three days ago, flipping to a fresh page. Your handwriting is tight and cramped as you note down the time of Simon's departure and what he said about his return. *"Six days until Simon returns from alleged conference. Will prepare to leave on day four, heading to Aunt Marie's cabin in Vermont."* This last part is a lie—Aunt Marie doesn't exist, and you have no plans to go to Vermont. But if Simon or anyone else finds this journal, the false trail might buy you precious time.

You list each suspicious detail methodically: Kyle's hesitation when you first contacted him. His immediate attempt to rationalize Simon's behavior. The way he knew so much about Price without you telling him. The convenient timing of the safe house offer.

Closing the journal, you tuck it into the hidden pocket you've sewn into your jacket lining, then double-check the locks, leaving the front door bolted as you slip out the back. You take the long route through side streets, keeping to the shadows, doubling back twice just to be sure. Only when you're certain no one is following do you head toward the meeting spot where Kyle waits.

Kyle's safe house is tucked away in a remote area, but the moment you step inside, unease prickles at your skin. It's too exposed. The windows aren't reinforced, and the locks seem flimsy—if Simon wanted to, he could be here in minutes.

"Not what you expected?" Kyle asks, watching you closely.

You force a tight smile. "Just... getting used to it."

But the lie sits heavy. Every instinct screams that this isn't far enough, isn't safe enough. You need to disappear completely.

You notice dark clouds gathering on the horizon as Kyle shows you around. "Looks like a storm's coming," he comments casually, glancing out the window. "Cell reception gets spotty out here when it rains. Power too, sometimes."

The words send a chill through you. Isolated. No communication. No witnesses.

That night, when Kyle steps out to take a call, you see your chance. His laptop sits on the table, screen dark. He's always cautious with it, rarely leaving it unattended. This might be your only shot.

Hands shaking, you ease into his chair and lift the screen. Locked. Of course. But when you press a key, it flickers to life. He must've forgotten to log out.

Your pulse hammers as you scan the desktop. Most files mean nothing to you—until you see it.

Price_OpSec

A chill rushes through you. Price. That name again. You click on the file, but a password prompt stops you cold.

You're about to give up when you notice a folder labeled "Surveillance." Your fingers hover over the trackpad, hesitant, then click.

The breath leaves your lungs as images fill the screen. Photos. Dozens of them.

You. Going to work. Shopping at the grocery store. Meeting friends for coffee.

And then—your heart nearly stops—Simon and Kyle. Together. Not in old photos from their military days, but recent ones. In one, they're sitting at a café, heads bent close in conversation. The date stamp is from just two weeks ago. In another, they're standing outside your apartment building. Kyle is pointing toward your window.

Before you can think, your phone buzzes.

Simon: I love you.

A second message follows.

Simon: Don't forget to double-lock the back door. It sticks sometimes.

Ice floods your veins. That's something Kyle told you about the safe house. The house Simon shouldn't know you're at.

Your breath quickens. The room spins. Your fingers dig into the table as the walls close in. Was this all planned? Is Kyle feeding Simon information? Are you running in circles, trapped no matter what you do?

You quickly take photos of the screen with your phone, hands trembling so badly you have to try three times to get a clear shot. You close the folders, returning the laptop exactly as you found it just as the first raindrops begin to hit the windows.

You clamp a hand over your mouth, stifling a sob as your chest tightens. The air feels too thick, your lungs too small. Panic claws at your throat, sending you spiraling. You trusted Kyle. You needed to trust him. But now... now you don't know if you can trust anyone.

Your mind races, desperate for a foothold. What if Simon has been ahead of you this whole time? What if every move you've made was predicted and accounted for? Your vision blurs at the edges. The betrayal you feared most wasn't from Simon—it was from the one person who was supposed to help you escape him.

You press your forehead against the cool surface of the table, forcing yourself to count. One. Two. Three. Your fingers dig into your arms, grounding yourself. But the tremors in your chest refuse to subside. Every interaction with Kyle replays in your mind, now tainted with suspicion. Every reassuring word, every careful gesture—was it all an act?

A sob threatens to break free, but you swallow it down. Kyle wouldn't betray you. He couldn't. You remind yourself of the boy you once knew, the friend who had your back when no one else did. If he's acting strangely, it must be because of what he's seen, what he's done—they've changed him, made him cautious, secretive.

You shake your head. The evidence is right there. The photos don't lie.

You can't afford to break. Not here. Not now. Not when you might be running out of time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to breathe through it. Think. Think.

There's still a way out.

There has to be.

The storm arrives in full force, rain lashing against the windows as thunder rolls overhead. The lights flicker once, twice, then go out completely. The safe house plunges into darkness.

"Power's out," Kyle calls from another room. "Stay put. I'll find the flashlights."

You sit frozen, your mind racing. This is it—your chance. In the darkness, with the storm masking any sound, you might be able to slip away.

Pulling out your journal, you scribble one last entry by the light of your phone. *"Kyle definitely working with Simon. Found photos. Heading to Vermont tonight. No other choice."* You leave it on the table, open to that page—your final decoy.

You don't sleep.

The hours drag by, your mind cycling through every interaction, every misplaced word, every look Kyle has given you since this began. You should have been more careful. But now, standing in the dim light of the safe house, phone clutched tight in your trembling hands, you have only one option left.

You confront him.

"How did Simon know about the back door?" Your voice is steadier than you expected, but the weight of the question hangs between you like a drawn blade.

Kyle looks up from his seat at the small kitchen table, brow furrowed. "What?"

You hold up your phone, screen illuminating your face. "Simon texted me about locking it. That's something you told me, not him. So how did he know?"

Kyle leans back, exhaling slowly. "Come on, you know how he is. He gets in your head. He's probably trying to mess with you, make you doubt everything." He gestures at your phone. "You think he wouldn't guess how paranoid you'd be about the locks? He's playing you."

You shake your head. "No. This isn't a guess. This is something specific, Kyle. Something only you mentioned."

His expression hardens. "So what, you think I told him? You think I sold you out to Simon? After everything he's done? After everything I've risked to help you?"

Your stomach churns at the way he flips the accusation back onto you. Doubt creeps in, whispering that maybe you are overreacting. That maybe Simon really is just messing with you. Kyle's been your friend since childhood. If you can't trust him, then who?

"I don't know what to think anymore," you admit, voice cracking. "I just—I need the truth."

Kyle runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "The truth? The truth is Simon's got his hooks so deep in you that you're seeing shadows where there aren't any. He's always done this, hasn't he? Made you question yourself? And now you're doing his work for him." He leans forward, tone softening. "Look, I get it. You're scared. But you have to trust me."

The words scrape against your raw nerves. Trust him. Like you trusted Simon?

You sit down slowly, trying to steady your breathing. "Then tell me about Price."

Kyle freezes. It's barely perceptible, but you catch it.

"What about him?"

"Simon listens to him. I keep hearing his name, but I don't know who he is."

Kyle exhales, rubbing his hands together. "Price is... not what you think. He's just some old war dog Simon admires, someone he learned from. But he's not pulling strings here." He looks at you, eyes careful. "That's why you need to stop panicking. If Price is involved, it's just another layer to this, not the end of the world. We need to be smart."

You hesitate. Everything in you screams that this isn't right, that you should leave. But Kyle is so convincing, so steady. And deep down, there's still that part of you that doesn't want to believe he'd betray you.

"So what do we do?" The words taste like surrender.

Kyle relaxes slightly. "I have a contact. Someone outside Simon's reach. They can keep you safe, but we need to move."

Every alarm in your mind blares at once. Another move. Another safe house. Another place where Simon might already be waiting.

Kyle offers you a small, reassuring smile. "I promise, this time, it'll be safe."

You swallow your fear and nod. You want to believe him.

But as you gather your few belongings, you slip a kitchen knife into your pocket. This time, you won't be caught unprepared.

The storm intensifies throughout the night. Rain hammers against the roof, and wind howls through the trees, enclosing the safe house in a wall of water and sound. The power remains out.

Kyle's restlessness grows as the hours pass. He paces, checks his phone repeatedly despite the lack of signal, and keeps glancing out the windows into the darkness. The small space forces you to remain in close proximity, every movement amplified in your hypervigilant state.

"We should get some sleep," he says eventually. "Big day tomorrow. I'll take the couch. You can have the bedroom."

You nod but have no intention of sleeping. As soon as Kyle settles on the couch, you begin your wait, counting the minutes until his breathing deepens.

Three hours later, with the storm still raging, you make your move. The journal sits conspicuously on the kitchen table, your false plan clearly visible. Your real bag—small, containing only essentials—is hidden under your jacket.

You ease the back door open, wincing at the soft creak. The rain is instant and merciless, soaking you within seconds. But the downpour masks any sound you might make as you slip into the darkness.

The forest behind the safe house is dense and unfamiliar, branches whipping your face as you push forward. Your phone's flashlight offers minimal guidance, the beam swallowed by the thickness of the storm. You know there's a road about a mile east—if you can reach it, maybe flag down a passing car...

A flash of lightning illuminates the trees ahead, and in that split-second burst of light, your blood freezes. A figure stands twenty yards away—tall, muscular, with a distinctive mohawk now plastered to his scalp by the rain. He hasn't seen you yet, but he's scanning the woods methodically, one hand holding a flashlight, the other clutching a walkie-talkie.

You duck behind a large tree, heart hammering against your ribs. Through the sound of rainfall, you catch fragments of his voice:

"Na visual yit... Grid search in progress... She coudnae hae gaen far... "

The walkie-talkie crackles with a response too distorted to make out, but the mohawked man nods, then changes direction, moving across your path rather than toward you.

"Copy that. Circling back tae th' creek. Over. "

They're watching you. Tracking you. How many cameras are out here? How many eyes?

You wait until the beam of his flashlight disappears among the trees before moving again, this time in the opposite direction. The undergrowth tears at your clothes, mud sucking at your shoes, but fear drives you forward.

Another lightning flash reveals a steep embankment ahead. You slide down it, half-controlled, half-falling, coming to rest in a shallow ravine. Above you, the storm continues its assault, but here, partially sheltered by the high banks, you have a moment to catch your breath.

The respite is brief. A beam of light sweeps the ravine, and you press yourself against the muddy wall, praying the shadows are deep enough.

"Ah ken ye'r doon thare ," a voice calls out, eerily calm despite having to shout over the storm. "Thir's nowhere tae go. Th' road's blocked. Th' river's flooded. Juist come oot noo, 'n' no one haes tae git hurt."

You remain motionless, one hand gripping the kitchen knife in your pocket. The beam sweeps back and forth, methodically searching every inch of the ravine.

"Simon's worried aboot you," the voice continues. "He juist wants ye safe. Ye ken how dangerous it's oot 'ere." 

The light stops moving, fixed on a point just feet from where you hide.

"Last chance."

You hold your breath.

Footsteps approach, sliding down the embankment. The mohawked man lands heavily in the mud, his flashlight beam dancing wildly before steadying again. He's close now—close enough that you can see that he is Soap the man Simon brought to your home a few weeks prior, the same soap from the texts.

"There ye are," he says, spotting you at last. His lips curl into a smirk as he raises the walkie-talkie. "Target located. Southeast ravine. Movin` tae secur”.

Your fingers tighten around the knife.

He reaches for you, confident, unhurried. "Let's nae mak' this difficult."

You don't think. You move.

The knife flashes in the beam of his dropped flashlight as you lunge forward. He reacts with military precision, blocking your arm, but your momentum carries you both backward. You fall together, landing hard in the mud, his greater weight driving the air from your lungs.

His hand clamps around your wrist, squeezing until your fingers go numb. The knife slips, embedding itself in the soft ground beside you.

"Stupid move," he grunts, pinning you with one arm while reaching for the walkie-talkie with the other.

Desperation lends you strength. You twist violently, driving your knee upward. It connects, and his grip loosens for just a second—enough for you to wrench free and scramble for the knife.

Your fingers close around the handle just as he lunges for you again. You roll to the side, and in one fluid motion, slash outward blindly.

A howl of pain tears through the night. Soap staggers backward, hands pressed to his face. Blood seeps between his fingers—dark, almost black in the dim light. You've caught him across his left eye.

"Ye bitch!" he screams, lunging forward blindly. But his footing is compromised, his vision obscured by blood and rain.

You don't wait. You clamber up the ravine, soil and rocks giving way beneath your desperate grasp. Behind you, the man is still shouting into his walkie-talkie, his voice ragged with pain.

"She's armed! left th' ravine heading wast! a'm needin' backup! A’M NEEDIN’ BACKUP!"

His voice fades as you reach the top, replaced by the relentless drumming of rain and your own ragged breathing. You sprint through the forest, no longer caring about stealth, only distance. Every flash of lightning guides you forward until finally, miraculously, you see it—an access road cutting through the trees.

You have no idea where it leads, but away is all that matters now. Away from the safe house. Away from Kyle's betrayal. Away from Simon's control.

Behind you, distant voices call out, but they're growing fainter with each stumbling step you take. Soap won't be following—not with that eye. And whoever else is out there, they're too far behind.

For the first time since this began, you feel something close to hope. You're still running, but no longer in circles.

You're finally breaking free.

[gf2bellamy]

hi lovely :)!

I have a Spencer Reid x Reader req

(I’m new to requesting, and I also completely understand if you don’t want to write this)

Reader has been working at the bau for about less than a year, and hasn’t gone to hang out with anyone outside of work. Eventually one day she gets invited over to Garcia’s house for a team party, and to everyone’s surprise (especially Spencer’s) she dresses completely different outside of work, almost like a hyper manic pixie dream girl straight from the movies. Spencer complements her, and it leads to some budding romance and silly flirting :)

you can make any adjustments you’d like, I really don’t mind.

thank you!

- 🐞

dreamgirl — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing a/n: hiii 🐞 !! this request is so cute !! i loved writing this <3 also the pictures r just here for the aesthetic not necessarily representing readers outfit :) and i did a bit of research on hyper manic pixie dream girsl and i hope it's what you were thinking of ( i mostly took inspo from jessica day😭 )

The scent of vanilla frosting and freshly baked cake filled Garcia’s apartment as Spencer Reid carefully poured a bag of chips into a large glass bowl.

At the counter, Garcia was meticulously decorating a cake, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as she attempted to pipe a perfect heart in the center. “Ugh, this won’t work,” she muttered under her breath, squinting at her creation. 

Spencer glanced at her before the sound of the doorbell pulled his attention. 

“Can you get that?” Garcia asked, not looking up. “My hands are kind of full—literally, full of frosting and frustration.” 

He placed the half-empty bag of chips down and made his way to the door. As he pulled it open, his mouth fell slightly open, words momentarily escaping him. 

Standing there, holding a neatly wrapped box of cookies, was you. 

You, who always dressed in neutral tones at work. You, who usually blended in with the professional, serious atmosphere of the BAU. 

But this? This was a whole new side of you. 

You were wearing a vibrant, oversized cardigan covered in mismatched patterns—flowers, stars, maybe even a tiny dinosaur if he looked closely enough. Underneath, a pastel pink t-shirt featured a giant, cartoonish strawberry in the center. Your bag, also pink, was slung over your shoulder, covered in pins and keychains that jingled softly as you shifted on your feet. 

“Hi, Spencer!” you greeted cheerfully, eyes bright. “I’m so glad I found the right place.” You let out a small, nervous laugh. “I got lost, like, five times.” 

Spencer was still standing in the doorway, staring at you , trying to process what he was seeing. This was not what he had expected. 

Before he could formulate a response, a voice piped up behind him. 

“Boy genius, are you going to let her in, or are we just gonna leave her standing out there ?” 

Garcia appeared behind him, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel before stopping in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she took you in from head to toe. 

“Oh. My. God,” she gasped dramatically, hands flying to her chest. “This outfit is everything.” 

You laughed, cheeks warming under the attention. “I usually tone it down for work.” 

Garcia shook her head in mock disappointment. “Such a shame. We’ve been robbed of this fabulousness for months. But not tonight! Come in, my little pastel dream!” 

Spencer finally blinked, stepping aside to let you pass, still visibly processing the contrast between your work self and—this. 

You smiled at him as you walked by, completely unaware of the way he was still watching you, fascinated by this entirely new version of someone he thought he already knew. 

Garcia linked her arm through yours as she led you toward the kitchen. “Okay, we need to discuss this transformation immediately. Where do you shop? How do I get a cardigan like that? And—” she gasped dramatically “—please tell me you brought something sugary in that little box.” 

“I did,” you confirmed, holding up the cookies. 

“I knew I liked you.” 

Spencer lingered near the door for a moment before closing it behind him, a small, curious smile tugging at his lips. 

Half an hour later, nearly everyone had arrived, the team had been nothing but warm and welcoming. You’d lost count of the number of compliments you’d received—Emily had gushed over your cardigan, JJ had called you “adorable,” and even Derek had thrown in a playful “Look at you, all cute and colorful. Who would’ve thought?” 

Even Hotch—stoic, serious Hotch—had cracked the smallest hint of a smile and simply said, “It’s good to see you here.” 

Now, you found yourself drawn to one of Penelope’s many shelves, admiring the collection of trinkets she had displayed. Tiny figurines, colorful glass bottles, and an alarming number of cat-themed items covered nearly every inch. 

As you reached out to gently poke a ceramic cat with oversized eyes, a familiar presence appeared beside you. 

“It’s so cute,” you murmured, turning slightly when you realized Spencer was standing next to you. 

Spencer, who had been staring at you practically all night. Spencer, who had endured teasing remarks from both JJ and Derek about his obvious interest. 

He cleared his throat, glancing quickly at the figurine as if he hadn’t been watching you the whole time. “Yeah,” he nodded, a little too fast, trying (and failing) to act casual. 

A small smile tugged at your lips as you noticed his gaze lingering—not on the cat, but on you. More specifically, on the colorful hair clips securing small sections of your hair. 

“Do you like them?” you asked, amusement dancing in your voice. 

Spencer blinked, caught off guard. “What?” 

“My hair clips,” you clarified, tilting your head slightly. “You keep staring at them.” 

A faint pink dusted his cheeks. “Oh. Yeah—yeah, I do,” he admitted, a small, sheepish smile forming when he realized he’d been caught. 

Your smile widened. “You can borrow them if you want.” 

That made him huff out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t think I could pull them off.” 

You playfully squinted at him, pretending to assess. “I don’t know, Reid. I think you could totally rock the look.” 

His lips quirked at the teasing tone in your voice, but before he could respond, he blurted out, “I like your outfit.” 

It came out too quickly, like his brain had tried to filter it, but failed at the last second. His eyes shut briefly, as if he was mentally kicking himself for how awkwardly it had slipped out. 

Your heart skipped slightly at the unexpected compliment. “Yeah?” you prompted, tilting your head. 

He nodded, gaze flickering to yours before quickly shifting to the shelf again. “It’s... really different from how you usually dress at work. But it suits you.” 

“Thanks, Spencer.” You nudged his arm lightly, lowering your voice just enough to make him glance at you again. “I like your outfit, too.” 

His brows raised slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. “This?” He glanced down at his usual button-up and cardigan combination. 

You grinned. “Yeah. Classic Reid. Wouldn’t change a thing.” 

He exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. But you could tell, from the way his lips curled at the corners, that he liked hearing it. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then , you leaned a little closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, if you ever want to borrow the cardigan, I wouldn’t say no. I think you’d look... interesting in pastel dinosaurs.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and then he let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to my usual look, thanks.” 

“Suit yourself,” you said with a shrug, your grin widening. “But just know, the offer’s always open. You might surprise yourself.” 

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” he said quietly, his tone warm. “I like it.” 

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his voice, and you looked down at the ceramic cat again, pretending to examine it more closely. “Well, maybe I’ll have to surprise you more often.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away, but when you glanced up, he was smiling—a small, genuine smile that made your stomach do a little flip. “I’d like that,” he said simply. 

The moment lingered.

And then, as if on cue, Garcia’s voice cut through the room. 

“Reid! Stop hogging my guest and come help me with this cake!” 

Spencer blinked, startled out of the moment, and you laughed softly. “Duty calls,” you said, nudging him again. 

He hesitated, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he nodded. “Yeah. Duty.” 

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your fingers brushing against the ceramic cat one last time.

[tapwater118]

gonna take you up on that whole “i give you: ramblings - you give me: approval/a number from 1-10” thing, liy related since i know shes on the mind. this wouldve been what that liy&one fic i vagueposted about in tapcord focuses on btw, chances of me finishing that are slim so i’m just gonna talk about it here!

liy’s been shown to be very inquisitive and focused on her adventures, see how throughout bfb + tpot 1 with how she reacts to the exit backdoor. and so a new mystery afoot? contestants disappearing left and right only to return with their limbs back? hesitant to discuss the things they did? thats prime for liy’s next adventure!

i always imagine her with one of those big investigation boards tying things together with pins and string, shes tying points together late at night but things just won’t make sense! atleast not until someone decides to make a special visit…

bam! shes in one’s lair, after some sort of frantic failed escape attempt, panic sets in due to the fact that she was caught by yet another blue number, cue angst thanks to exit ptsd, but worry not! one is here. she tells liy how theyve been watching eachother for a while, in a way, and how she’d like to make a deal!

liy’s an outcast - likely feeling some sort of inability to truly connect to people after debutting into tpot, even if she had made great friends with everyone on her team (bottle and pen atleast), the exit almost certainly took its toll, as represented through pencil. theres also her killing past, something which definitely still is present in her in some way. those who know her the best? foldy and stapy? they know about it! she cant escape it anyway. not to mention the looming threat of being eliminated again, who knows what’ll happen there! it definitely is something weighing on her mind constantly after the exit

all that to say she’s very vulnerable to a deal being made in ‘her favor’. unlike all the other contestants, she also doesn’t have the same loyalty to two that everyone else does, making her the prime candidate by one as her proxy in the game. she couldn’t do this with anyone else previously, but she could play, and win tpot through liy, getting two’s powers not through force but instead by pulling the strings from the shadows. she’d probably offer liy a fraction of the powers of two - heck maybe even some of one’s power upfront!

so yeah! liy signs the deal admitidly hesitantly, but it’ll bring her what she wants, she believes. whether or not this comes true? who knows! i havent thought about things more but thats where you could throw in your own thoughts if you like i’ve exerted enough brainpower here. liyone toxic yuri is real btw

9/10 the one point docked because you forgot the sloppy make out

[tonycries]

F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now. 

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin. 

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too. 

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?” 

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones -  and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi. 

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home. 

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall. 

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight. 

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons. 

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.” 

And you loved to push his buttons even more. 

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh. 

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh- 

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you. 

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him. 

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips. 

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm. 

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick? 

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot. 

Before you can react, your back  is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you. 

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all. 

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder. 

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.” 

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this. 

Missed teasing you until you broke. 

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up. 

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment. 

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy. 

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs. 

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-” 

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did. 

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs. 

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud? 

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close. 

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below,  “-eat this pussy the best.”

 And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face. 

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices. 

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin. 

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.” 

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth. 

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?” 

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh. 

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock. 

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth. 

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper. 

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?” 

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact. 

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it. 

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over- 

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch. 

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum. 

So wet and hot - with him. All him. 

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you. 

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar. 

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.” 

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[helianthus-hellion]

modern-day house m.d. episode where the patient is transmasc and on T, and after house reads his file he goes in and is reading off prescriptions like "estradiol cream, finasteride, prescription face wash, prescription deodorant... god, it's like you don't even want to be a man!" and the patient says "just because i wanna be a man doesn't mean i have to suffer all the shitty side effects" and house goes "it's all shitty side effects! being a man sucks!" before tossing the file down on the little tray table thing and leaving.

chase and cameron exchange A Look in the room and then while they're walking down the hall cameron's like "we should talk to him about it - maybe he'd be... happier? if he transitioned?" and chase rolls his eyes and is like "just because he thinks being a man sucks doesn't mean he's trans, every guy hates being a man at least some of the time" and then cameron gives him Another, Slightly Alarmed Look

we cut to house and wilson and wilson's looking at him like he's insane, going "so you... told the patient that being a man sucks?" and house laughs and says "sure did! i wanna know which will take longer - cameron coming to me concerned about my gender, or chase realizing he should be concerned about his gender. her gender? eh, probably easier to just stick with 'his' for now." wilson accuses him of being a sociopath and house looks fake-wounded and says "you know, if i am a sociopath, you're being ableist by attributing my cruel actions to my sociopathy, and if i'm not a sociopath then it's even worse that you're accusing me of being one just because i'm mean."

cuddy approaches house later and tells him that she heard about what he told the patient, and she is required both to make him take sensitivity training and also to provide him resources on transitioning if he wants to pursue that. house asks if him being a woman would make cuddy bisexual, and she raises and eyebrow and says "that ship sailed long ago" and doesn't elaborate on whether she means she isn't into house anymore so it doesn't matter or that she already is bi. house starts cyberstalking her to try to figure out if she slept with any of the women she's friends with on facebook. the team comes in to tell him about a new symptom and he shows them a photo of cuddy from college with a hot girl at a halloween party and is like "do you think they ever fucked? i think they fucked. even if they didn't, i'm gonna imagine they did." foreman tries to get them back on track but chase leans in to get a better look at the photo and it turns out to be wilson in a costume. there's an awkward beat of silence before cameron goes "SO, back to the patient!" and house makes a sort of dismissive "huh? oh, yeah, go test him for [whatever]" while staring intently at the photo.

he confronts wilson about the photo, wilson admits it's him, house starts by going "oh, yeah, but i'm the one having a gender crisis" but accidentally says "sexuality crisis" instead and wilson is like "house do you... do you think i'm hot in that photo?" and then we cut to chase asking cameron if she thinks he could pull off an outfit like that and they discuss it a little while doing a blood draw or LP or whatever. the patient gives them both A Look and is like "you know, you can get wigs and breast forms pretty cheap these days..." and chase is like "hm? oh, yeah i guess one of those costume supply sites would probably have stuff like that huh," and the patient raises his eyebrows at cameron who just shakes her head a tiny bit.

house accuses cuddy of sleeping with his best friend in the clinic lobby and she drags him into her office to ask what the hell he's talking about and he shows her the photo. she's like "yeah, we were at a halloween party together in college, so what?" and house says that wilson makes a really hot chick and asks if that's what awakened cuddy's "bi side," and cuddy just rolls her eyes and tells him to stop projecting his sexuality crisis onto her just because he thinks his best friend is hot. house asks if wilson was at least a good lay and cuddy says "find out for yourself!" before kicking him out of her office again.

house goes back to his office and cameron is pacing outside the door, and she looks nervous when he walks up to her. she follows him into his office and she has clearly prepared A Speech about how if he doesn't like being a man he doesn't have to be, and he doesn't even have to be a woman either, there's options, and it's never too late to transition no matter what people say, and he cuts her off like "yes yes you're very supportive, you clearly aced sensitivity training" and then he has the episode's Epiphany and it turns out that the patient transitioned too early and there was some (largely made-up and not actually backed by irl medical science) complication from starting his transition as a teenager, and the patient is like "oh so you're saying i did this to myself?" and house says "well legally at least, either your parents or the governor of new jersey did it to you - depends on who approved the hormones."

wilson comes up to him at the end and is like "you know, it's okay if you think i'm hot. and it's also okay if you're a woman. if you... ever need any tips on passing as one, i'm happy to help."

the ending is left ambiguous as to house's actual gender identity and, much like the autism episode, it kinda feels like the writers' room was full of heavy debate about whether house should be trans or not. we also never actually circle back to the fact that chase is definitely trans, it never comes up again, and this move pisses off both trans people and allies who wanted it to become A Story Arc and anti-trans people who are mad it even came up in a single episode, absolutely nobody is happy about how they handled that subplot.

[obsesssedblerd]

au where suguru doesn't defect but brings home nanako and mimiko one night after a wild mission, wanting nothing more than to make sure the small girls are fed, hydrated, and cozy in a warm bed after what they have faced. he arrives and stops in his tracks when he sees satoru, who just brought home little tsumiki and megumi, and you with tiny yuuta, who has been anxiously hiding behind you ever since you brought him home. you and your boyfriends just stare at each other, all thinking the same thing.

"wow," you say first to break the tension-filled silence, then start laughing. behind you, yuuta relaxes a bit, his shoulders slumping in what you're certain is relief. it's gonna be alright now. i'll be okay.

suguru shrugs with a sheepish smile. "well then." next to him, nanako and mimiko also smile. exhausted, but soft and genuine. no more danger. we're safe here.

"okay!" satoru grins as he claps his hands together. "we'll make things work for now, but it looks like we're going to need a bigger house, yeah?" one of his hands pats tsumiki's shoulder, and the other ruffles megumi's spiky hair. both of them exhale, allowing the tension to leave their bodies. he's a bit crazy, but he won't let anything happen to us. things are finally looking up.

three became eight that night. it's busy and chaotic most days, but you, satoru, and suguru wouldn't change a single thing.

[malum-forev]

More Than Casual?

Summary: After breaking up with Bucky, you thought you'd never see him again. That is, until you're required to make an appearance at one of the future congressman's events.

Part 1: Casual

CAABNW!Bucky x Agent!ExWidow!Reader

“You ready for the event?” Joaquin asks you as he throws a punch. 

“What event?” You huff, dodging the right hook. 

“Everyone on Cap’s team gets an invite to the White House.” He covers his guard. 

“Less talking, more punching!” Isaiah yells from the other side of his training room. 

You’d heard about the event being held at the White House but you decided to turn off the TV the second those familiar blue eyes were displayed. It was too early to see the man who still made you shiver. 

“Not going.” Is all you say, throwing him a rogue kick with more force than necessary. 

“You’re missing out on the event of the year for what? Ordering in pizza?” He laughs, but you take the opportunity to kick the center of his chest, making Joaquin fly across the room. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Isaiah hollers. 

You help your partner up. “What if I have plans?”

“Plans?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Are you finally opening your heart to love?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart sinks a little. You’d successfully gone weeks without thinking of him and now, with just a couple of words, he’s back in your mind. Pulling at your heartstrings so tightly it makes your chest cave in.

It wasn’t Joaquin’s fault, he had no idea that the man who’s being honored at the event is the same person who tore your heart to shreds. 

“I just don’t feel like going,” you manage to get out. “I much prefer to fight and protect, rather than prance and drink.”

——

“What’s this I hear about you not going to the gala?” Sam casually says a few days later. 

You choke on the water you’re drinking. 

“That serious, huh?” Sam jokes. 

You shake your head. “Doesn’t sound like something that I’d be interested in.”

Your words are careful and strategic. But trying to think of the perfect excuse while your team leader looks at you so inquisitively is almost impossible. 

“I’d be nice,” he shrugs. “To go out and support Buck.”

The nickname sends a chill down your spine. 

You called him that same name for years, especially when you wanted to tease him. In front of others you’d always referred to him as Sergeant. But in close encounters, especially when you wanted him to plead for something, you’d call him just that. Buck. 

It never failed to make you think back to when he was a kid. You’d beg him to see pictures, you knew he had a couple printed out after the rediscovery of the Howling Commandos files. 

“You’re looking at the best version of me there is, doll.” He’d always say. “No need to dwell on the past.”

But you knew it was because part of him was always scared to look back. It made him remember he had a life before all of this happened. 

“I’m busy that day.” You mutter, picking up the report on the desk. 

Sam crosses his arms. “I haven’t even told you when it is.”

You stop in your tracks. 

“Is there something else that’s bothering you?” Sam asks carefully. He knows perfectly how to deal with guarded agents. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

You hum.

“So, I hope to see you there, Agent.” Sam narrows his eyes. He doesn’t need to use the words for you to know it’s an order. 

You nod your head without another word, leaving the conference room before your anxiety rises more through your body.

——

“You’re pretty amped up for someone who didn’t even want to come!” Sam yells over the loud music playing inside the limo sent for you. 

You don’t look back at him as you tip the vodka bottle, letting the clear liquid coat your throat.

On any other day, vodka wouldn’t be your liquor or choice but today, you need all the courage I can get. And in terms of fucking you up the fastest, vodka is the way to go. 

You can barely feel your heel poking your foot by the time you step out. 

Your eyes inadvertently scan every square inch of the room, not looking for anything suspicious but looking for the man who you’ve been dreading seeing. 

It’s bad enough his posters are up on every lamp post.

You make a beeline towards the free bar cart, Joaquin hot on your heels. 

“Sam sent me over to babysit you,” he leans on the edge of the cart. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say sarcastically, sipping on the martini the bartender set for you. “I’m having a blast.”

Both your eyes travel down to the napkin the bartender passes you, his ten-digit phone number neatly scribbled on the paper. 

You turn it over without looking at him.

“What happened to opening up your heart to love?” Joaquin whispers, looking back at the bartender. 

“I don’t have time for love.” You mutter, swirling the olives in your drink. 

He twists the cap on a water bottle before passing it to you. “You’ll never have time for love, if you don’t make time for love.”

“Who died and made you the team’s hopeless romantic?” You eye him. 

“Steve.” He shrugs. 

Joaquin goes on and on about love but you can’t hear him anymore. Because the second you look over to the other side of the room, there he is. 

Time stands still, and your legs threaten to give out.

Bucky’s changed so much since the day you said goodbye forever. His eyes have dulled, turning into a muted blue like the sky on a rainy day. His hair looks polished, but you know better than anyone else he hates how it feels. “I love it when you run your hands through it,” he used to murmur against your lips. “Makes me feel free.” But most importantly, his expression lacks that liveliness it used to have. The wrinkles near his eyes would deepen the second his lips would stretch into a smile. And it almost always came with a: “You have no idea how much I missed you, Doll.” 

Unsaid words stretch between you two. Your eyes say all the talking needed. 

Bucky’s eyes travel from yours, down to your left hand, where you’d always wear a vibranium bracelet that he’d gifted you. It had pieces of his old arm in it. Bucky used to say that after The Winter Soldier, he wanted nothing to do with him. Until he met you. He liked when you wore it because it reminded him that even with his past, he could still deserve someone as loving as you. 

You rub the spot where the bracelet used to lay. 

“You don’t deserve me anymore,” you whisper. 

“D’you say something?” Joaquin looks up at you.

You shake your head, ripping your eyes away from the man who caused you unspeakable hurt. But not before noticing how his expression hardened as he looked at the man standing next to you. 

You recognized it immediately. It’s Bucky’s signature: I want to rip your head off look.

And it had everything to do with the way Joaquin was rubbing your shoulder. 

“Torres, we’re friends, right?” Your eyes bounce from Bucky’s azure to your partner’s brown. 

“Yeah,” he eyes you suspiciously. 

“Could you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You get out before you can regret the words. 

Was it immature? Yes. 

Did you want Bucky to feel at least one ounce of the hurt you felt? Also yes. 

“Why?” Joaquin’s eyebrows furrow. 

“I hate these events because, as you can see,” you flip over the napkin with the bartender’s number on it. “Men always get the wrong idea. So, can you just act like you’re my boyfriend?”

“Is this some kind of test Sam put you up to?”

You pinch your lips together. “Sure.”

“Man! I’ve been waiting for an undercover mission,” he shimmies happily. 

“But you have to pretend with everyone, okay?” You look back at the future congressman who’s making his way towards the two of you. “And make it believable.”

Joaquin smooths down his lapels. “You got it.”

Not even ten seconds later, Bucky stands between you and Joaquin with a scowl on his face.

"Agents." He looks at both of you like he's done so many times. But now, his gaze holds Joaquin's for a second longer.

"Congratulations." You raise your glass to him.

"I haven't won, yet." He doesn't look away from the brunet to your side.

"By the looks of it, you're going to sweep the floor with all the other old bozos around here." Joaquin smiles, playfully shoving the super soldier's shoulder but he doesn't budge. Not one bit.

"Could I take her away from you, it'll only be a second." Bucky asks like you're Joaquin's property.

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to ask him."

"As your boyfriend," Joaquin not-so-subtly raises his eyebrows at you. "I approve of your parting."

"We're not in the regency era you doofus." You whisper as Bucky leads the way.

"I haven't been anyone's boyfriend in a long time! I don't know how to act!" He whispers back, throwing his hands up.

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asks the second you're away from everybody else.

"Trust me, I didn't want to be here." You let out a dry laugh, pulling a cigarette from your bag and lighting it up.

"I mean, what are you doing here with him?" Bucky narrows his eyes toward your partner. "What's this? A debutant ball for your new relationship?"

"Why would you care, anyways?" You take a drag, liking the way the smoke coats your mouth.

"I don't care-I-I just-" Bucky runs a hand down his face.

"Look James," You watch as his PR guy paces around the ballroom, looking for the man who is standing in front of you. "It's best if you go back inside."

"I can't." He looks down at the floor. "I can't just leave you out here smoking alone."

A genuine laugh rips through you.

"That's the promise you're keeping up?" You raise your brows, laughing harder as his expression tightens. "Out of all the promises you made me, that's the one you're going with."

"This isn't-" He tries but you interrupt him.

"Tell me what this is?" You push for him to spill what you know is on the tip of his tongue. "What? Was this summon a friendly one? Or did you want to bring me out here just so you could see if you still had it? That power you had over me."

"N-no." He stutters over his words.

"I'm happy now, James." You let out more smoke. "And it's killing you to know that."

"I just don't know how you did it!" He finally snaps. "You come here, looking amazing like always, with another man next to you. Acting like what we had was-"

"What we had was casual." You repeat the words he said. "Nothing more."

"Was it?" His blue eyes lock into yours, tumultuous like the sea.

"Yes." You lie.

"Then why do I feel like this?" He runs a hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly combed hair.

"I don't care, Barnes." You drop the end of your cigarette on the floor. Bucky lifts his foot to step on it, just like he'd done a million times before, only for you to do it first.

You turn on your heel but Bucky stops you.

"Whatever we had is in the past, and I intend on keeping it that way." You look at him over your shoulder, hating the way his gaze still makes your heart squeeze and his touch makes your skin heat.

"I should leave, Congressman." You say through gritted teeth. "Wouldn't want to give the wrong impression to all the voters around here. "

Authors Note: Hiiiihi! Thank you so much for the love on pt. 1! As always make sure to like and comment. Alsoooo I posted the first chapter of my book, it's on my page. I'd love it if you guys could give it a read. And if you'd like to support me, make sure to give me a follow on my ig and tiktok: @sophiabazar_author, I'll be posting all book related content on there! I'll be posting chapter 2 soon! If you'd like a part 3 to casual make sure to comment!

Tagged: @erinallene @the-bucky-one @unaxv @kodzukenie333 @g1g1l @hanacheryl @ironwinnerwonderland

[whytheylosttheirminds]

the boy is mine - r.c.

(blurb, 1.4k words, season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader)

summary he's got finally got his shit tight, but now everybody wants him, and that just won't do...

content fem receiving oral, 18+ minors do not interact

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun was hot and angry, casting a golden glow on Rafe as he cracked another beer and threw it back. You watched his tall frame from your beach chair, lip between your teeth as you took in the sharp panes of his stomach. You squirmed slightly while your eyes tracked the little trail of hair that led lower, lower…

But you weren’t the only one looking. 

The music bumped through someone’s speaker as a group of bikini-clad girls pulled up their chairs and umbrellas right next to your group’s coveted spot.

Your friend leaned over in her beach chair, “think someone’s got eyes for your man.” You followed her nod to the gaggle of bottle blondes with fake tans who were whispering to each other and smiling in his direction. 

“That’s cute,” you snorted.

Rafe was none the wiser to their stares, reaching his hand down to help you to your feet, pulling you toward the water behind him.

“Think you’ve got some fans,” you told him once you were bobbing in the waves, your arms around his neck as he crouched low to meet your eyeline.

He smirked, “maybe I should go sign some autographs.”

You smacked his shoulder, making him laugh despite your pouty frown. He stood from the water, lifting you with him so they could see your legs wrap around his waist. He grabbed your ass, holding you up with ease as his lips found yours.

The girls on the beach were suddenly very busy checking their phones and setting up umbrellas, disappointed looks on their faces as Rafe showed you off.

Back at his house, Rafe lead you into the outdoor shower, turning on the lukewarm water to wash the sea and sand from your body. When he caught you frowning, he tapped the side of your head gently, his signature way of asking what’s on your mind.

“I’m glad you’re so successful, I just don’t like that everybody suddenly wants what’s mine,” you explained.

He looked down at you, eyelids low as his gaze traveled over your body. His hands slid up your sides slowly, thumbs slipping under the thin string of your bikini top, sweeping over your ribs.

“So possessive,” he smirked.

“Just think everyone should know you’re off limits by now,” you whispered, stepping closer to him until you were chest to chest.

You nudged your nose against his neck, guiding him to tilt his chin up and reveal his throat to you. Your lips started out soft, tickling him with little kitten licks between each gentle kiss. When you reached his Adam’s apple, you let your teeth graze over the sensitive skin. Rafe winced, his obvious erection pressing against your belly and making you hungrier for him than ever. 

Finally, you sucked harder, right where his neck meets his broad chest. After a few moments of pressure, you pulled back and wiped the glossy spit from your lips, smiling in satisfaction at the purple-blue mark you left on him. You moved to leave another, but he interrupted you.

“Bet those girls on the beach wouldn’t tease me this much,” he grumbled.

You responded by wrapping your fingers around his throat. He chuckled smugly under your hold, deep vibration tickling your palm. It’s merely a symbolic gesture, your small hand doesn’t even fit half way around his neck. You squeezed harder, but he was still smiling. You narrowed your eyes at him, no more fucking around.

Your hand snaked up higher, around to the back of his neck. As you ran your fingers up over his buzzed hair, you let your nails scratch enough to raise goosebumps along his skin. When you reached as high as you could go, standing up on your tiptoes and still nowhere near matching his height, you pressed his head down hard, nails digging into his scalp. 

Rafe stumbled for just a second before understanding the assignment. He lowered to his knees slowly, shuffling forward until your back brushed against the wall, the water from the shower cascading over your shoulders and down your body.

“Bet those girls on the beach couldn’t make you drop to your knees without saying a single word either,” you taunted him.

He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in, pushing you back against the wall hard.

“Tell me who else, baby,” you continued, “who else can put big bad Rafe Cameron on his knees? Hmm?”

His stare was icy as he looked up at you from the ground. You returned your hand to the top of his head, redirecting his gaze to your bikini bottoms.

“Show me who you belong to, baby boy.”

You could tell he was considering fighting back, the desire for control almost tempting enough to bring him back to his feet. But then he saw the growing wet spot over your center. Licking his lips, he nodded slowly, like a king admiring his feast.

His long fingers untied your bathing suit strings one at a time, causing the thin fabric to fall away and leave you bare in front of him. You lifted one foot to his shoulder, lowering him even further.

Rafe looked up at you, eyelashes fluttering over his pretty blue eyes as he spread you with his first and middle finger, his tongue flicking between them and hitting right where you needed it to.

“Exactly like that,” you sighed, head falling back so the water from the showerhead ran through your hair like a waterfall. “You know just what to do.”

No rush, he took his time. This was his house. He could take you on any surface, in any room, at any time. And he would. But first he was gonna make you come on his tongue right out in the open air. 

He’d developed this whole neighborhood, practically running this half of the island at this point. All these new houses were filled with people who owed him money. He runs this shit, and yet here he was, on his knees for you. The thought was so fucking hot, you had to bite back your moan.

“Nah let it out, angel,” he coaxed between sharp licks to your clit. “I want you to scream ‘til the neighbors hear, yeah?”

You smiled big at that command, “you want all your new neighbors to hate you?”

“I don’t care what they think as long as their checks clear.” 

He lowered his mouth to your entrance, lapping you up, grinding his nose back and forth on your clit until he was completely buried, covered in you. You couldn’t even feel the water falling on you anymore, your skin on fire with pleasure. Rafe’s hands slid up your thighs and over your stomach, before slipping under your bikini top and palming your tits with perfect pressure.

As instructed, you let your moans and cries fly. When he let one hand fall from your chest so he could slip two fingers inside you, curling at the knuckles and tapping the tips against your g-spot, your whole body trembled.

“Mmm, that’s perfect,” you praised. “You gonna make me come all over your face?”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, licking a long stripe across your clit. “Make a mess for me, baby.”

He circled back, dragging his tongue the other way as his fingers danced along your walls. Your foot pushed hard against his shoulder, like you were trying to stomp him out, but he held himself up against you, the burning stretch in your thigh only adding to the intense pleasure.

“Oh my god! Yes, yes Rafe!”

You soaked him, one hand on his head and the other digging into the flesh of his shoulder as you came.

When you finally cooled down, body weak and wrung out with pleasure, he stood and guided you even further under the cool stream of the shower. He rubbed his hand along your inner thigh, letting the remnants of your high wash down the drain. 

“Now why the fuck would I need any other girl when you give me that, huh?”

“That’s right, baby,” you agreed with a blissed out grin. “I got so much more for you, too.”

Rafe carried you into the house, and he didn’t even have to ask for you to get on your knees. 

Before you started, he made sure all the windows were wide open so everyone in the neighborhood could hear exactly who he belonged to.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[partiallysame]

Prices lil wife buys a 'proud dependapotamus' shirt as a joke and wears it around the house (dependapotamus- an insult for a military spouse implying they're only in it for the benefits and deeply unattractive)

How you got the shirt: John came home one day and during his daily recap, which you def trained him on how to tell you about his day properly, details john details. He told you about how some of the men were teasing each other about whether or not a new wife was a ‘dependapotamus’. You, like any civilian would, asked what that was so he told you. No but that's funny. Jokingly you asked if you were on and jokingly he said ofc you were. Next day you ordered your ‘Proud Dependapotamus’ shirt (and a matching one for him that said ‘Proud husband of a Dependapotamus’). You had fully forgotten about what the shirt said, wore it as a pj shirt so much you stopped reading what was on it. Untilllllll.

Kyle: You came down the stairs wearing it, again not knowing what shirt you were wearing. He stopped dead in his tracks, like water glass halfway to his mouth, cocking his head to the side reading the shirt. And reading it again. Does that say? Ya it says that. He was so confused because no? No you were not a Dependapotamus. Then he got concerned, voice so soft, “Love did someone call you that?” Getting genuinely upset that someone might have referred to you as the insult, assuming you didn’t know what it meant. “Call me what?” His hands were on your hips pulling at the shirt a lil. “Oh this?” you pulled the shirt taught to show the words without any wrinkles, “Funny right? John’s got a matching one.” a lil excited gasp leaving you “I should get some for all of you.” Kyle was about to fight someone over what you later called your “favorite nickname.”

Johnny: You came down the stairs in your shirt and it brought a mischievous lil smirk to his face. Letting you walk past him before he reached out to grab your hand and pull you into him. His fingers traced the letters on the shirt. “This what ye are huh? Proud of it?” “Very” you nodded. “The Missus jus’ usin’ us?” His hands trailing all over your body. “If you get all the good stuff. What we get huh?” lips finding their way to your neck. I think he just needed an excuse to get you into bed. 

Simon: ok now you’ve heard Simon chuckle before, plenty of times (you called it a giggle and he is adamant he does NOT giggle). Butttt you came down the stairs in your shirt and he laughed, big loud belly laugh. The sound almost scared you. Man is clutching his stomach he laughed so hard. “S’a good shirt lovie. Gotta get me one to match ya.” (The other men may or may not have run in trying to find out what the fuck that noise was. Don’t worry boys just Ghost giggling.)

[strawberrymatchawhore]

p power

rafe cameron

“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”

summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother

warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol

you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.

“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.

“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”

“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.

“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.

“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.

“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.

“i-”

“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.

AT THE PARTY

you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.

you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.

“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.

“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.

oh shit

“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.

“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.

this is what he deserves

sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.

oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.

“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.

“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.

“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.

……..

“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.

“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.

“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.

“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.

"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.

"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.

your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.

"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.

"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.

the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.

"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.

"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.

"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.

you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.

"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.

"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.

he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.

“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.

"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.

"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.

"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.

"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.

"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.

the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.

"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.

"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.

"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.

"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.

"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.

"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."

"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.

"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.

rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.

"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.

"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"

"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.

"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.

"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.

"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.

"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.

"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.

"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.

"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.

rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?

*attached video*

"shes busy rn bro"

5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.

why is he spam texting me?

"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.

“what the fuck is this rafe?!"

[khioneee]

simon acts as santa for your kid.

he was supposed to be the stoic, no-nonsense one. yet here he was, fully committed to the role of santa claus, going above and beyond for your child during the holiday season.

simon took the elf situation very seriously. every night after your child went to bed, he’d sneak around, setting up elaborate scenes. sometimes the elf was ‘caught’ stealing cookies from the jar, with crumbs left strategically on the counter. other times, it was perched on a stack of books with a tiny note saying, ‘reading helps santa know who’s good!’

in the mornings, he’d watch with a barely contained grin as your kid ran through the house, excitedly searching for the elf. the look of pure wonder on their face was worth every second of effort.

‘make sure santa knows what you want,’ he’d say, guiding your child to stick their wishlist on the fridge. of course, simon would ‘check it’ later, leaving behind a trail of flour dusted across the floor to mimic snowy footprints.

‘santa’s magic snow,’ he whispered to your child the next morning, pointing out the tracks. ‘he must’ve had a look last night.’

your kid’s eyes went wide, practically sparkling. ‘santa was here?!’

simon nodded solemnly, his eyes twinkling. ‘he’s keeping an eye on you.’

come christmas morning, the stocking was overflowing, filled with everything from sweets to little toys. santa went overboard this year. your child laughed in delight, and simon, trying to stay ‘in character,’ muttered, ‘guess santa thinks you’ve been extra good, huh?’

late on christmas eve, simon climbed onto the roof with a set of sleigh bells in hand. with quiet stomps and the occasional jingle, he created the illusion of santa and his reindeer making their grand departure. from the safety of their bedroom window, your child peeked out, eyes wide, whispering, ‘i hear him!’

you couldn’t help but laugh softly at simon’s commitment as he carefully climbed back down, boots crunching in the snow.

simon made sure to devour the cookies left out for santa—crumbs and all—and drained the milk, leaving behind a handwritten note:

‘thank you for the treats! keep being good, and i’ll see you next year!’

your kid squealed with joy when they found the note in the morning, clutching it like a treasure.

that night, after all the presents had been opened and the excitement had finally quieted, you found simon by the fire, still in his santa suit, looking exhausted but satisfied.

‘you really went all out,’ you whispered as you leaned over to kiss him.

simon shrugged, his face softening in the glow of the holiday lights. ‘they’ll only believe in this magic for so long,’ he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair. ‘figured i’d make it count.’

you smiled against his lips, kissing him again, the warmth of his dedication making your heart swell.

‘mommy, why are you kissing santa?’

[emocheol]

seventeen when you reject their kiss (as a prank)

a/n: this is so long and took way too long i’m sorry T-T

seungcheol

seungcheol was used to arriving home from work and having you at the door to greet him with a kiss.

when you weren’t in your usual spot he walked over to the couch, seeing you watching tv and figured that you had lost track of time.

“hi baby, i missed you,” he announced his presence, leaving over you to catch your lips in a kiss.

when you turned your head to the side and he felt his lips catch your cheek instead he pulled back and gave you a funny look.

“something wrong?” he questioned quickly, you had never rejected his kisses before.

you looked up at him and shook your head, “no, i’m just trying to watch my show, cheolie,” you replied, trying to look around his frame that was blocking your view of the tv.

he narrowed his eyes at you, you didn’t sound upset but he was sure you could be a good actor. his mind started running with the possibilities of why you could be mad at him today.

it was usually silly reasons: he accidentally left the toilet seat up, he didn’t wake you up before he left the house, etc, etc.

but he hadn’t done anything today.

“okay…” he mumbled, leaning back down and attempting to kiss you again.

when you turned your head to the side again he sighed and sat down on the couch next to you, pulling you into his lap.

“you don’t like kissing me anymore?” he questioned, “what happened to the person who would whine all day if i didn’t kiss them? huh?” he prodded, reaching a hand up and smushing your cheeks together.

at this point you bursted out laughing and wrapped your hands around seunghcheol’s wrist, “it’s a prank! i’m sorry,” you exclaimed, seeing how his fear turned into fake annoyance at your confession.

he rolled his eyes and leaned in once more, finally catching your lips while you were still giggling. he planted a firm kiss against your lips and then nodded in satisfaction.

“you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he said, secretly finding joy in the fact that you found the situation so amusing.

he loved seeing you happy, even if it was at his own expense.

jeonghan

you were sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast when jeonghan finally graced you with his presence. you knew he needed his sleep so you never woke him up when you got up.

“morning, angel, how’d you sleep?” he asked, making his way to you and leaning down while puckering his lips, ready for his kiss.

you smiled at him and continued eating, “it was good, you?” you asked back, ignoring his lips and opting for the eggs that were on your plate instead.

jeonghan narrowed his eyes and threw his hands up with a sigh, “you hate me, don’t you?” he asked dramatically, “you think i have cooties and you never want to kiss me again? i bet you want to break up with me, don’t you? because i’m so repulsive?” he fires dramatic question after question, only leaving you entirely flabbergasted.

while you opened your mouth trying to think of a response he crossed his arms, looking at you and awaiting your answers to his questions.

“if you kiss me ill forget this happened and go back to normal,” he decided to add, seeing that you couldn’t come up with an answer.

“sure,” you replied easily, not knowing how else to reply to his spitfire questions. you stood up from your seat and placed your hand on his shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss on his lips.

he instinctively wrapped one arm around your waist and kept you there for a second longer, “this is why you can’t try and prank me, it always goes my way in the end,” he said with a smirk, releasing you and delving further in the kitchen to find something to eat.

his words only left you stunned, “you knew what i was doing?” you called over to him.

“of course i did, did you forget who you’re dating?” he asked back, shooting you a cocky grin while you plopped back into your seat with a sigh. it was impossible to pull one over on him.

joshua

joshua was about to leave to go meetup with his band members for dinner while you stayed at home for the night.

you walked him to the door to see him before he left.

“i’ll be back later, don’t wait up, okay?” he made to clarify, knowing that nights with his friends usually went long into the hours of the a.m. and he didn’t want you staying up late for him.

you hummed at his words and nodded your head, knowing you would probably stay up for him anyways, “have a nice night, tell the guys i say hi,” you said with a smile, becoming close with joshua’s friends as your relationship progressed.

“i will, i love you,” he made sure to add, grabbing your chin and moving in to plant a kiss on your lips.

when he felt your resistance to his kiss he pulled back and gave you a funny look, “any reason you won’t kiss me?” he asked skeptically.

“nope, i love you too,” you replied, trying to play it off innocently.

he nodded his head slowly, his fingers still on your chin. he moved back in to kiss you again and when he felt the same resistance he gave you a pointed look.

“if you have a real reason for not kissing me, tell me and we’ll talk about it. if you don’t, stop playing around and kiss me so i can leave.” he said simply, leaving no room for argument and coming up with a solution.

you noticed that he was using his serious voice and you nodded slowly, finally letting him kiss you without putting up a fight.

he let his kiss linger a little longer than usual, likely because of the game that you were playing with him. the way he kissed you made you forget what you were even doing in the first place and when he pulled away he could tell that much from your face.

he pulled back with a smirk and kissed the top of your head, “i’ll be back, don’t miss me too much,” he teased, leaving you to give him a small nod as you watched him walk out the door.

prank totally failed.

jun

“are we okay? or are you playing with me?” jun questioned, noticing how you were physically dodging all his attempts to give you a peck on the lips.

you couldn’t help but grin at the cute pout on his face, not being able to play it off like it was a normal occurrence.

you were standing on one side of the couch while jun was standing on the other, both of you looked like you were prepared to run. jun was ready to bolt towards you and you were ready to get away from him.

though both of you had a smile on your face, you weren’t dodging him for a serious reason and he could tell.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said with a little giggle, moving in the opposite direction that jun was going whenever he moved towards you.

he thankfully realized that you weren’t actually mad at him and then decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

jun jumped onto the couch and reached over to grab you, locking you in his arms while you burst out laughing, not being able to contain yourself.

“c’mon! give me a kiss, my breath smells good! i brushed! see?” he exclaimed loudly, opening his mouth wide for you to look, which only made you laugh harder.

you clutched your sides as you laughed, your sudden movement making the two of you lose any balance you previously had and you both went tumbling to the ground in each others arms.

jun’s arms were still locked around you, the two of you laying side by side on the hardwood floor. you both slowly looked at each other and smiled, a little sheepishly.

“you saw, right? my clean teeth?” jun spoke up first, still stuck on the fact that he was missing out on a kiss from you.

you couldn’t deny him now and you nodded, “yes, hun, i saw,” you replied, finally pressing a kiss on his lips to stop this whole debacle.

you could feel him smiling against your lips which only made you smile right back.

“i win!” he shouted when you pulled away, pumping his fists in the air. though, he wasn’t sure what game you were playing, a kiss from you always felt like a win to him.

soonyoung

soonyoung’s face was scrunched up, his lips drawn in a straight line and his eyebrows pulled in towards each other. it was his ‘deep in thought face’.

he was intently scrolling on his phone, furiously typing, scrolling a bit, then shaking his head. he repeated the steps multiple times, sighing at each dead end.

you sat next to him, watching tv as he completed whatever mission he had on his phone.

you had decided to avoid his kisses all day after seeing a video of someone else doing the same thing to their boyfriend online. though soonyoung didn’t seem too worried about it, at least that’s what you thought.

“do you prefer a casual relationship without emotional intimacy?” soonyoung asked out of the blue, setting his phone on his lap and looking at you.

his words caught you off guard and all you could do was look at him in shock. he took your lack of an answer as a yes and frowned. he nodded to himself and took your hands in his, his face as serious as ever.

“it’s okay if that’s how you feel, you can tell me and we can work things out, right?” he suggested, his voice sounded optimistic but his face told you all you needed to know, he looked like he was near tears.

you quickly shook your head when the shock wore off and pulled your hands from his, opting to cup his cheeks instead as you looked at him.

“where did you get that silly idea from?” you asked, running your thumbs over his cheeks, his frown still present on his face.

“wikihow…” he mumbled, picking up his phone and showing it to you.

you choked on a laugh at his reply and took his phone from his hands, looking at the open tab.

‘10 reasons why your partner won’t kiss you’

you went to his search history and finally found out what all the scrolling and tapping on his phone was about.

‘why won’t my partner kiss me’

‘what to do when my partner won’t kiss me’

‘how to tell if my partner doesn’t like me anymore’

‘how to be a better boyfriend’

you threw his phone on the couch and immediately pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around him and cradling him to your chest.

“honey, i’m sorry,” you said softly, he must’ve been sad and stressed all day because of some stupid prank that you tried to pull on him, “i was just trying to prank you, it’s stupid,” you mumbled, holding him tight.

soonyoung looked at you with wide eyes, his frown now turned into a small pout, “you don’t want to break up?” he asked softly, his puppy dog eyes in full swing.

“of course not! i’m sorry for making you worry,” you apologized, making sure you were absolutely clear about your love for him.

“okay… now give me 500 kisses to make up for it!” he decided, looking at you in complete seriousness, waiting for you to begin your task.

you couldn’t even be mad at his request and you obliged. you cradled his face with your hands once again and began to pepper his face with kisses, making sure you hit everywhere you could to show him how much you loved him.

he giggled at your actions, finally smiling for the first time in hours as you pampered him with kisses.

that was the last time you ever tried to prank soonyoung.

wonwoo

you were laying in bed on your phone, mindlessly scrolling while waiting for wonwoo to hop off his game and come to bed.

while scrolling you saw a video of someone pranking their boyfriend by not kissing him, and since wonwoo was keeping you up by not coming to bed yet you decided to play the same prank on him.

wonwoo finally got off his game around 30 minutes later and slipped into bed next to you, pulling you close to him with a shy smile, “i’m sorry, i was winning,” he whispered softly, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

it was rare that you saw him so cuddly and touchy, and your resolve was slowly fading to keep this prank up but you decided you would stay strong.

“it’s okay, let’s go to bed, hm?” you suggested, looking over at him with a little smile, gently pushing his hair out of his face.

he nodded at your words and puckered his lips, moving closer to you to get his nightly kiss before bed. when you dodged him and laid down he slowly blinked at you, a pout that you had never seen before slowly made its way onto his face.

wonwoo wasn’t the type to show his emotions so freely but you could tell what he was feeling clear as day now. he didn’t have to say anything for you to break.

“oh god i’m sorry,” you mumbled, pulling him in for a goodnight kiss, sweeter than normal since you felt so bad for ignoring his first one, “don’t hate me,” you added, hoping that your very short prank didn’t hurt him too badly.

he blinked at you and shot you a sleepy smile, “it’s okay, i know you’re bad at pranks,” he whispered, cuddling up with you and kissing your forehead before letting sleep take over his body.

you were a sucker when it came to wonwoo.

jihoon

“hello? i would like a kiss, please,” jihoon announced to you suddenly.

the two of you were lounging on the couch, enjoying each others company in silence. though, jihoon had been letting his mind run a mile a minute since you appeared to be dodging all his attempts to kiss you.

his words made you stare at him for a few seconds, processing what he said. he wasn’t one to ask for affection, he just took what you gave him. you realized this early on in your relationship and so you smothered him with love whenever you could, hoping it was enough.

when you had started this prank on him earlier in the day you thought that he wouldn’t notice, or care for that matter. he was a big ‘go with the flow’ type of guy. you didn’t even think that he would care about your lack of kisses since he never commented on your affection. clearly he cared.

“what?” was all you managed to say to his request, not able to form any other words.

“i said i would like a kiss. you haven’t kissed me today, did i do something wrong?” he asked innocently, trying to think over what he did all day, surely none of it made you upset.

you frowned at his words, you didn’t think that your lack of affection would’ve affected him that much. you felt your heartstrings tug and you couldn’t stop yourself from coming clean.

“no! i’m sorry, honey,” you pouted, scooting right up next to him and pressing a long kiss on his lips, followed by a few more pecks, “it was just some prank i saw online, it’s stupid,” you mumbled, realizing how dumb the prank was in hindsight.

jihoon nodded in satisfaction and wrapped his arm around you. initiating touch was also a rarity for him which only showed you how much this affected him.

“it’s okay, but that is a dumb prank,” he agreed thoughtfully, “i missed your kisses,” he whispered softly, so soft that you almost didn’t hear it. but you did.

and from that point you decided to show jihoon affection at any and every moment you could.

minghao

“is this one of your stupid pranks?” minghao deadpanned the second you moved out of the way when he tried to kiss you.

you frowned at his words, sad that he had caught on so fast and didn’t even pretend to be upset like the boyfriends in the videos that you had seen online.

you playfully pushed his arm with a pout, “you’re so lame, how’d you know,” you groaned, telling the truth since you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

minghao just laughed and ruffled your hair, “you would never dodge my kisses, you’re always whining for them in the first place,” he teased, though he was telling the truth, you’d be crazy to dodge his kisses.

you nodded slowly at his words, acknowledging that he was right. now that your prank backfired immediately you looked up at him and smiled, puckering your lips, ready for a kiss.

after a few seconds of not feeling his lips on yours you opened your eyes to see him standing in front of you, a smug smirk present on his lips.

“what’re you doing,” you whined, grabbing his hand and shaking it around a little bit, “give me a kiss,” you asked softly, trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes.

he just raised his eyebrows and shook his head, a grin still present on his face, “i don’t think so,” he said in a sing song voice, “you were going to try and keep your kisses from me, why can’t i do the same?” he asked thoughtfully.

you frowned at his words, “you’re mean…” you mumbled, though you didn’t really mean it, you loved his personality.

“you love me though,” his whispered, opting to kiss the top of your head since he was withholding his kisses from you.

it was enough to satisfy you for the time being plus minghao knew that it was only a matter of time before he caved.

mingyu

mingyu had been following you around your home all night, ever since you didn’t give him a kiss before you left for work.

now that you were back home after your shift he just had to be by you. he didn’t say anything, but his facial expressions said it all for him. he looked so sad, it honestly hurt your heart a bit.

whenever you got up, so did he. he would follow you to the kitchen, your shared bedroom, outside, even to the bathroom where he waited outside the door until you came out again.

after a few hours of this dynamic you finally decided to ask him the burning question.

“gyu, what’s wrong?” you asked, grabbing one of his hands and holding it gently. sure, you knew what was ‘wrong’ but you wanted to hear it from him.

mingyu let out an exasperated sigh and pulled you over to him, squishing you against his side, “finally!” he exclaimed, “everything is wrong!” he whined, rubbing his cheek against your head just like a puppy would.

you stifled a laugh at his actions, not wanting to invalidate his feelings since they were clearly making him so distressed. you had a feeling that this was how he was going to act, he needed affection and when you broke your routine of affection for him he didn’t know what to do.

“okay…” you started, “explain it to me, hm?” you suggested, finding you comfy spot even though he had a death grip on you. you managed to get one arm out to stroke his hair which made him visibly relax.

“you didn’t kiss me goodbye,” he pouted, “and you didn’t say anything about it!” he pointed out, knowing that you usually would’ve texted him an apology if you left without your usual goodbye kiss. he held up a finger each time he listed a reason.

you opened your mouth to respond, barely getting a word out before mingyu cut you off with another loud and exaggerated sigh.

“and you didn’t give me a kiss when you got home!” he raised a third finger for your third offense, “and you haven’t kissed me at all! it’s been hours since you got home!” he held up a fourth finger, waving them in your face with wide eyes so you understood the severity of the situation.

the more he talked the wider your smile got, you tried to hide your giggling but since you were so close to each other he noticed it and reprimanded you for it.

“and! hey! this isn’t a laughing matter… it’s serious…” he whined, bringing both arms around you again and shaking you gently back and forth, “don’t laugh at me…” he groaned, a big pout evident on his face while you tried to compose yourself.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you said softly, smushing his cheeks together in your hands, you noticed how his eyes got a little softer when you used his pet name. it was clear that you weren’t upset with anything, so now he was just a little confused.

mingyu’s pout still held presence on his face when he asked his next question, “then why didn’t i get my kisses,” he mumbled, his words coming out less coherent since your hands still held his cheeks together.

“oh! it was just a prank i saw online, wanted to try it on you,” you explained easily, though in hindsight it definitely wasn’t the brightest idea since you knew how touch starved your boyfriend could get.

he narrowed his eyes at your words, “worst prank ever,” he confirmed, feeling slightly better now that he knew you weren’t withholding his affection for a legitimate reason.

“don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you,” you said cheerfully, leaning in and pressing a few kisses to his lips, pulling back with a smile, “better?” you asked, judging from the smile he was hiding you could tell that he had gotten over it easily.

but he shook his head, “i think i need one hundred more kisses to make up for this,” he said thoughtfully, closing his eyes and puckering his lips, genuinely waiting for his next hundred kisses.

you obliged and his smile grew with every next kiss you gave him.

seokmin

“if i sing you a song will you give me a kiss?” seokmin asked as if you were playing 21 questions.

you shook your head in response.

“what about if i write you a song?” he revised.

still another no from you.

“if i give you 20 bucks?”

you gave him a raised brow but still said nothing.

“a hundred? a thousand? a million dollars for a kiss?” he shouted out as if he was an auctioneer.

you set down your phone and walked over to where seokmin was standing, “i love the enthusiasm and persistence but the answer is still no, my love,” you whispered, giving him a pat on the back for his efforts.

see, with seokmin, you couldn’t just not kiss him without telling him. you knew him well enough to know that he would’ve spiraled hard over it. so, you showed him a few videos of other partners doing the prank on their boyfriends. he found it amusing and decided to turn it into a competition instead.

if he could get you to kiss him then he’d win. if you could stand the day without kissing him then you’d win.

the prize was bragging rights and you were determined to win. but so was seokmin.

it was nearing the end of the day and seokmin was getting desperate, now shooting off every suggestion and bribe to get you to kiss him. but to his disappointment, nothing worked.

now, the two of you were cuddled under the covers, you were smug since you had won your bet and seokmin was sulking since he was positive that he was going to win.

“goodnight, honey, i’ll kiss you in the morning,” you whispered teasingly, rubbing it in that you had won your little competition.

he just scoffed at your words with a roll of his eyes, “yeah, yeah, goodnight,” he mumbled in defeat, letting you fall into dreamland while he stayed awake next to you, playing on his phone and waiting to get tired.

after an hour you were woken up by seokmin’s quiet laughter, you peeled your eyes open and saw that his face was illuminated by his phone screen. you couldn’t see the clock on your nightstand but you assumed that it was late.

he noticed your shifting around and frowned, “sorry, love, did i wake you?” he asked gently, putting his phone down on his chest and rubbing your back slowly, hoping that would soothe you back into your sleep.

“it’s okay, go to sleep, seokmin, it’s late,” you mumbled sleepily, moving your head up and giving him a sweet goodnight kiss before falling back asleep quickly.

when he felt his lips against yours his face lit up, about to say something before he noticed that you had fallen asleep once again.

he looked at the clock on your nightstand.

11:58pm

you’d kissed him before the day was over.

seokmin had won your bet and you better believe you’d be hearing all about it the next morning.

(he even took a picture of the time for proof)

seungkwan

“honey… how come you won’t kiss me?” seungkwan asked, noticing how you had turned your head twice on him in the day, making him kiss your cheek instead of your lips.

you looked at him innocently and shrugged, “i don’t know what you’re talking about, kwannie,” you said, trying your best to sound convincing.

he nodded at you slowly and then went back in for a kiss, catching your cheek once again. he pulled back and pointed at you, “that! that’s what i’m talking about! i’m trying to get lips but all im getting is cheek!” he explained, as if you didn’t know what you were doing.

you shook your head, “hmm, i don’t get it,” you said, eyebrows furrowing together to try and play dumb. you knew that he would catch on to the fact that you were just messing with him. but it was fun for the time being.

he caught on quickly and nodded his head at you, his eyes narrowing, “ahh, i see,” he said suspiciously, “two can play at this game…” he concluded, walking out of the room backwards, keeping his eyes on you as he walked.

the rest of the day was spent not kissing each other. you each dodged the others attempts until you were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, stuck in an intense staring contest.

how was this related to your kissing prank on seungkwan? neither of you could explain. but this is where you ended up.

after another 10 minutes of menacingly staring at each other you were the one that broke.

“seungkwan, can we give this up now? i miss your kisses…” you said truthfully, pouty lips and gentle voice on display to try and convince him. you were not thinking that your silly prank was going to be a day long event and now you just missed your boyfriend.

luckily for you, seungkwan broke at the exact same time and nodded quickly. the two of you closed the gap between you on the couch and finally let your lips touch.

this led to a good 15 minutes of gentle kisses and giggles on the couch.

when you pulled away you were both grinning at each other, forgotten was the entire day and all you could think of was how happy you were in that moment.

“let’s never do that again,” you decided, not wanting to put yourself through that agony again.

“agreed.” seungkwan replied, diving back in and making up for lost time, or rather, lost kisses.

vernon

“do you think my breath smells bad or something?” vernon asked while the two of you were laying in bed together ready to shut off the lights and go to sleep.

the entire day you had been playing this ‘prank’ on him of not kissing him. though, the prank somehow backfired since he didn’t seem to notice at all, at least not to you.

after your refusal of his kiss early in the morning he hadn’t attempted to kiss you again.

you gave him a funny look and shook your head, “no? you just brushed your teeth, didn’t you?” you asked, confused by his very random question right before bed.

he nodded slowly at your answer and turned his head back up so he was looking at the ceiling. he seemed to be deep in thought before he turned his head back to you again.

“so, i’m all for boundaries and stuff and i respect yours, really i do,” he started, making sure you understood that he respects your choices, “but i’m just confused on why you didn’t want to kiss me at all today,” he explained, wanting to get straight to the point and not tip toe around the big issue that was swirling around in his head.

his words shocked you and you turned to face him, the surprise clearly showing on your face. you thought that he hadn’t noticed your lack of physical affection since you two weren’t big on all that.

“but you didn’t kiss me today either,” you pointed out to him, your response failed as he shook his head at you.

“no, i tried to this morning but you dodged me,” he pointed out in turn, “so i just assumed you didn’t want to kiss, didn’t want to make you explain in case it was a sore spot so i just respected it,” he continued, laying out his thought process to you, “my curiosity just got the better of me now, i’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about it,” he added respectfully.

you frowned at your boyfriends words, he was so respectful, almost too respectful. it was one of the many things you loved about vernon along with his maturity and his way with words.

vernon’s words tugged on your heart and you rolled over to his side of the bed, pulling him into a hug with your arms around his neck.

“you’re the sweetest guy ever,” you said softly, while you were having a sentimental moment vernon was utterly confused at your actions, however. but he accepted it and slowly brought his arms up around your waist, slowly rubbing your back as he didn’t know what to do or what you were feeling.

“okay… so what was going on today?” he asked, secretly relishing in the amount of affection he was receiving.

you pulled your head up and looked at him, “it was just this stupid prank i saw online, i thought you’d react differently…” you mumbled, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you admitted it.

he raised an eyebrow at you, “a prank? dodging my kisses as a prank?” he questioned, not seeing the appeal in it.

you buried your face in his neck and nodded, “yeah, i thought you would be more persistent or something, but you’re just too respectful,” you said jokingly. he huffed out a laugh at your words and nodded, holding you closer to him.

“sorry, babe,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on your head, “you want me to change?” he asked, half as a joke but also being half serious.

you shook your head quickly, “never, you’re perfect,” you said immediately, never wanting him to doubt himself.

to seal the deal you decided to press your lips against his, finally giving him the kiss that you had deprived him of all day.

chan

you were relaxing on the couch in your living room when you heard the front door open, signaling that chan was home from work.

you checked the time on your phone, realizing that chan was home almost an hour later than he normally was.

his late appearance intrigued you, so you got up from the couch and decided to walk to the entryway of your apartment, greeting chan there.

when you walked up to him he was taking off his shoes, but that wasn’t the thing that interested you. what did interest you was the huge bouquet of your favorite flowers that were in one hand and the designer bag that he was carrying in the other.

“woah! what’d you buy?” you asked curiously, reaching for the designer bag that was in his hand, he let you take the bag in your hands and walk to the kitchen to unravel it. you took the flowers into your other hand and set them on the table next to you after giving them a smell.

chan just gave you a smile and followed, “got it for you, honey,” he said gently, he seemed a little weary but you didn’t take much notice of it. though, you were extremely confused as to why he would’ve gotten you such an expensive item out of the blue.

you looked at him strangely, “why?” you questioned, it wasn’t your birthday or your anniversary any time soon, and you couldn’t understand why else such an expensive present would make its way into your lap.

chan gave you a sad smile and reached across the table, holding your hand, “i know this doesn’t make up for whatever i did, but i just wanted to tell you i’m sorry,” he said softly, “and i’d love to fix whatever i did if you just tell me what it is,” he said truthfully, getting ready to change anything you told him.

you cocked your head to the side and looked at chan with narrowed eyes, trying to figure him out, “what’d you do?” you asked, not quite understanding what he was talking about.

“c’mon, babe, you can tell me, i promise i’ll fix it,” he said again, wanting to make sure that it was a safe space for you to tell him your feelings.

you shook your head at his words, “no, chan, i really don’t know what you’re talking about, truly,” you made sure to emphasize, not leaving any room for him to think that you were hiding something.

“but… but you wouldn’t let me kiss you this morning,” he explained, “so you’re mad about something, right?” he deduced. and instead of asking you about it earlier he decided to spend thousands of dollars on a designer item and a bouquet of flowers to try and make it better.

when you let his words sink in you let out a loud laugh, pulling your hand back from him and grabbing your sides while you laughed. chan was far from amused and narrowed his eyes at you seemingly making fun of a serious situation.

“oh, god, i’m sorry channie,” you said in between laughs, when you finally caught your breath you composed yourself and explained, “that was a prank, babe, look,” you pulled out your phone and showed chan a few of the videos that you had seen online.

this only appalled him and he quickly snatched the bag from the table, “i’m returning this…” he mumbled, shaking his head at your actions.

“no! i’ll take it!” you exclaimed after him, standing up and getting next to him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and feigning innocence.

“i’m taking these flowers too, they’re mine now,” he said childishly, sticking his tongue out at you and snatching the flowers from the table as well.

you laughed at his actions, “we live in the same house! the flowers are going to be here anyways,” you explained, making him think of a rebuttal.

“well,” he started, pausing for a moment, “they’re going to go on my nightstand then!”

and after some convincing words chan ended up letting you keep the designer bag he had purchased. though your favorite flowers found their home on his nightstand.

[blackenedsnow]

helloooooo, your writing is amazingggggg and i was hoping it would be okay if i requested a shadowww x reader. Where Maybe sonic ask shadow to bring medicine to you (to try and introduce you to shadow as your sick with something or have a major injury, etc). Shadow prehaps is annoyed but agrees anyways, then however when he meets you sees maria in you. Then veryday to be sure you get better shows up in the morning to help take care of you, and slowly the two become friends then prehaps at the end share a kiss and become lovers? Idk it sounded cute in my head lol.

familiar

WARNING: Illness

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Sick! Reader

NOTE: This is such a cute request and I'm pretty proud of this! Sending you all the love, and I hope this brightens your day a little! Take care of yourself <333

SUMMARY: Shadow reluctantly delivers medicine to you at Sonic’s insistence, but upon meeting you, he’s struck by a haunting familiarity.

It was late afternoon when Shadow approached the house tucked away at the edge of the city, a small bag of medicine clutched in his gloved hand. The only reason he was here, he reminded himself, was because Sonic had all but begged him to.

“Come on, Shadow,” Sonic had said earlier, exasperated but hopeful. “They’re too sick to go anywhere, and I’m tied up with something. Just drop it off and say hi. You might even like them!”

Shadow had scoffed at that. “Highly unlikely.”

Yet here he was, standing at your door. He knocked, sharp and deliberate, and waited.

A muffled voice from inside called, “Coming!”

The door creaked open, revealing you. Despite the exhaustion evident in your eyes and the pallor of your complexion, you greeted him with a weak but genuine smile.

“Oh, you must be… Shadow?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded curtly, holding out the medicine. “Sonic sent me. He thought you might need this.”

You accepted the bag with a quiet “thank you,” looking up at him with an expression so open, so trusting, that it stopped him in his tracks. For a fleeting moment, he was no longer standing at your doorstep but aboard the ARK, looking into the kind eyes of someone he thought he’d lost forever.

Maria.

The resemblance wasn’t physical, but there was something about your demeanor—gentle, unassuming, and kind despite the pain you were clearly in—that tugged at a memory buried deep in his chest.

“You okay?” you asked, noticing his prolonged silence.

He blinked, snapping himself out of the moment. “Fine. Just… don’t forget to take the medicine.”

You chuckled lightly, the sound hoarse but pleasant. “I won’t. Thanks again, Shadow.”

He nodded again, turning on his heel and disappearing into the fading daylight.

To Shadow’s own surprise, he returned the next morning.

It had been a restless night. Thoughts of Maria swirled in his mind, but they mingled with the image of your weary yet kind face. He told himself he was simply being thorough, ensuring you were following the instructions for the medication.

When you opened the door again, wrapped in a blanket and looking just as surprised as you were grateful, Shadow felt the smallest pang of relief.

“You’re back,” you said, stepping aside to let him in.

“You didn’t seem capable of taking care of yourself yesterday,” he replied bluntly, though there was no malice in his tone.

You laughed softly. “Fair enough.”

It became a routine. Every morning, Shadow arrived with something—soup, tea, a fresh supply of tissues—and checked on you. At first, his visits were brief and businesslike. He would make sure you had what you needed and leave with little more than a nod. But as the days passed, the conversations grew longer.

You learned to expect his dry wit and sharp observations, and he found himself oddly drawn to your quiet resilience. Despite how miserable you felt, you always thanked him sincerely, your gratitude genuine and unassuming.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you said one morning as he set a cup of tea on your bedside table.

“I know,” he replied simply, sitting in the chair he’d claimed as his own.

“Then why?”

He hesitated, his crimson eyes flicking to the floor. “You…” he paused, looking back at you with a sigh. “I don’t know.”

You didn’t press him, sensing the weight of his words, but your soft “Okay, thank you.” carried more meaning than either of you acknowledged.

By the time you were well enough to venture outside again, the bond between you and Shadow was undeniable.

“You don’t have to come by anymore,” you said one evening as he walked you back to your door after a short outing. “But… I’d miss you if you didn’t.”

He paused, his gaze meeting yours. There was something unspoken in his eyes, something vulnerable.

“I’d miss you too,” he admitted, the words slow but sincere.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His eyes widened, and for the first time since you’d met him, Shadow looked genuinely flustered.

“Thank you, Shadow,” you whispered. “For everything.”

His lips quirked into the smallest of smiles, a rare and precious sight. “I... You’re welcome.”

And from that moment on, his visits were no longer about ensuring your recovery—they were about seeing you.